Mary South’s debut collection of short stories, You Will Never Be Forgotten, was billed by the publisher as being about people who ‘attempt to use technology to escape their uncontrollable feelings of grief or rage or despair, only to reveal their most flawed and human selves’. The first thing to say is that isn’t an accurate description of this collection at all. Only two or three of the stories really focus on technology, and of those, only ‘Keith Prime’ really explores its speculative implications by depicting a facility that nurtures sets of human beings so they can be used as organ donors. ‘Camp Jabberwocky for Recovering Internet Trolls’ is yet another reflection on the distorted lives that people live through the internet, a poor reflection of sharper, more satirical short stories on this topic such as Nafissa Thompson-Spires’s ‘Suicide, Watch’ in her Heads of the Colored People. Meanwhile, ‘You Will Never Be Forgotten’, where a woman who works as a content moderator for a search engine tracks her rapist down in real life, is one of the better stories in the collection, but still feels a little flat and familiar.
At its worst, You Will Never Be Forgotten serves up imaginative and bizarre situations, like the woman who breastfeeds a series of adult men staying at her hostel, but then spells out exactly what we ought to take from this story: ‘Not one of you has bothered to find out the reason I’m here’, the woman complains to the men, ‘Do you think you’re the only ones who need love? I’m done. Consider yourselves weaned.’ (Earlier on, to underline the point, the group read the ending of Peter Pan, where it’s explained that Wendy’s female descendants will become Peter’s mother in their turn, while he remains an eternal child.) At its best, however, this collection shows some promise, even if South isn’t really that interested in tech: my favourite story was ‘Not Setsuko’, which draws from the imagery of J-horror to tell the story of a mother who is forcing her daughter to relive every important moment in the life of her older sister, who died at the age of nine. This creepy tale has some interesting things to say about childhood, parenthood and ‘making memories’, and it’s here that South is at her most original.
I received a free copy of this collection from the publisher for review. It’s out in the UK on August 6th.
Lydia Millet has had a pretty distinguished career in the States – she’s been a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize and the Los Angeles Book Prize, among other things – but I don’t get the sense that she’s especially well-known here in the UK. Her latest novel, A Children’s Bible, is painfully timely; it starts with a group of teenagers and their parents spending the summer in a remote lake house, and descends into a story of environmental catastrophe. I loved the sharpness of the generational divisions in the first half of this novel, as Eve, our teenage narrator, and her friends, look on in disgust as their parents indulge in sex, drugs and drink. The children are so desperate to disassociate themselves from the older generation that they refuse to tell each other which mother and father they’re related to, and play a game of trying to work out these family connections. There’s something of Meg Rosoff’s arresting How I Live Now (which I first read when I actually was a teenager!) in the way Millet writes about the self-sufficiency of this adolescent community, especially when the teenagers flee their parents to shelter in a barn some distance away. However, the apocalyptic climate change reflections, including their implications for future generations, have become very familiar in fiction, and here I didn’t think A Children’s Bible brought much to the table; I also found the biblical allusions too obvious. I wish Millet had spent more time on her delightful inversion of the usual power hierarchies between adults and children, and less time telling us that the adults are only culpable because of their failure to do anything about climate change. Nevertheless, this novel is worth reading, if only for its courage in putting age, rather than other social identities, front and centre.
I received a free copy of this novel from W.W. Norton for review.