After three series focusing on a central author, Short Stop is taking a bit of a turn for the next run. Sometime last year, I found a copy of “The Vintage Book of Amnesia” that was compiled and edited by Jonathan Lethem. The theme is simple. He looks at authors throughout time and explores how they approach the subject of memory. Whereas previous series focused on exploring a writer finding their voice, I thought that it would be interesting to try and find something more thematic across the centuries. It’s a lengthy ordeal and one that will probably have more highs and lows than ever before. The hope though is finding a few diamonds in the rough that are worth committing to memory.
When I first picked this book up, I flipped to the table of contents page and found myself intrigued by a few names. It would be facetious to not admit that Shirley Jackson was one of the biggest reasons I tipped over from curiosity into an actual purchase. While I can’t claim to be the most educated on her work, I do agree that “The Lottery” is one of the finest short stories of the 20th century. There’s a density to even the choice of language that catches the reader off guard before dropping an ending that initially seems abrupt but holds deeper meaning the more that you revisit it. I’m happy to say that other adaptations, notably Josephine Decker’s Shirley (2020), have also made me intrigued to read more of her work, though “Nightmare” is the first since “The Lottery” that I’ve actually picked up.
I’ll start by saying that the early go of this series has been rough. While I think each writer has something worth saying, I don’t know that Lethem has compiled it in a way that fully accesses that purpose. They mostly have existed in the most cliché answer to what you’d expect a story about amnesia to look like. There’s a lot of internalities and blurred lines. It’s not a terrible way to write stories, but I fear that having so many share a similar type of disorientation will grow tedious after a few dozen reads.
Because of this, I think that Jackson’s work is such a revelation. There is a pulse to “Nightmare” that has felt absent in the other slow burn works that amount to very little other than the writer throwing up their hands and admitting they didn’t have an ending. In all honesty, I’m not sure if I fully understand what Jackson is trying to say, but there’s a lot going on that draws the reader in right away. Even if she’s describing a woman walking down the street, there is something that feels unnerving about it. She creates this sense of paranoia that something awful is going to happen. Maybe some great truth will emerge and suddenly everything gets turned on its head.
I don’t personally believe that “Nightmare” has an ending that sears into your brain quite like “The Lottery.” If anything, the final page feels like a complete rejection of this story as a thriller. Instead, it recontextualizes it as a comedy that, while not riotous, captures a different kind of madcap frenzy that comes with living in the city. Every character goes about their lives without any significant change. Even at the promise of something greater happening, Jackson leaves the reader with the suggestion that nobody is noticing the big changes around them. There’s a parade going down the street. A sound truck is yelling messages and signs are posted everywhere. Even as the protagonist becomes worried about being “caught,” Jackson is convinced that she never will because nobody is looking.
As a reader, the ending seems initially like a disappointment. Jackson did such a great job of causing my mind to hypothesize that I felt myself wanting to read faster at one point and lingering on the mundane exchanges the next. Something would emerge that made sense of the title “Nightmare.” Well, it is. It’s just not a nightmare for the woman in question. If anything, this is a P.R. nightmare for whatever company is promoting the contest. Even if it’s not directly addressed, the reader imagines executives getting annoyed that they wasted so much money on this metropolis. It’s time to go off to Chicago and see if they’re more willing to buy into their schemes.
That may be why we start with secretary Ms. Toni Morgan being told to deliver a package to Mr. Ray Shax. If judged off the first two pages, Ms. Morgan could be described as the ideal employee. She shows up on time and keeps things in order for her superiors. It’s such a mundane setting that it’s difficult to believe anything exciting would happen. However, when she gets a package for Mr. Shax from her boss Mr. Lang, she is sent on a mission that finds her running into very odd situations almost immediately. Her mission on paper sounds simple: deliver the mail. However, she needs to do it while dealing with an obstacle: Find Miss X.
It's a message that’s found everywhere. She first encounters it in a newspaper. When asking for opinions on it, her initial response is “some contest thing.” The disinterest right away should clue the reader into the larger public opinion, but it works so well as exposition that it’s easy to ignore. Soon she sees billboards everywhere saying “FIND MISS X.” The detail that catches her off guard most is the sound truck that seems to be following her as she walks in and out of shops. The only clue being shared is that this mysterious woman is walking alone with a package and looks exactly like her.
She goes through the typical round of emotions. There is initial doubt, believing that it could be mere coincidence. However, as the messages repeat themselves, she buys into their propaganda. A funny side detail is that the prizes seem to change depending on the page. Along with a substantial financial incentive, the winner can have seemingly a whole village of material wealth. It’s a comedic detail that becomes so overblown that by the end, there’s a parade that has a float carrying a refrigerator. By that point, the irony is that the woman that Ms. Morgan is talking to about whether she thinks Ms. Morgan is Miss X seems more annoyed by the obstacles and doesn’t care about the contest. The punchline is that she’s going to Macy’s where she’ll probably end up buying the prize when she could’ve gotten it for free.
Jackson does a great job of roping out tension throughout the story and keeping the greater truth uncertain. The reader isn’t entirely sure if Ms. Morgan is Miss X. It’s only through persuasive marketing that doubt settles in and suddenly the universe seems to align with this belief. The crowds are moving in time with Ms. Morgan. There’s people on the street yelling “FIND MISS X” and Ms. Morgan is convinced it’ll be her demise. There’s a paranoia in the text that works beautifully. Among everything else, why is the sound truck following a path similar to hers? At the same time, why does Miss X’s wardrobe change at the same time she stops in a clothing store and changes her jacket? What kind of Big Brother madness is this?
Another detail for the eerie column is when Ms. Morgan finds herself able to stop the sound truck long enough to question the driver. At a stoplight, she knocks on the window and gets her answer, sort of. The driver claims that he has a route he follows based on a map he’s given by his superiors. It’s unclear what that path is. He is simply assigned to drive and fulfill the needs of the people in back, whom he can’t hear due to his windows being rolled up. The people in back, whom the reader never meets, follow their own messaging.
On the surface, this would seem like frustrating ambiguity, but Jackson knows how to have everything play into each other. Everyone else is ignoring the marketing around them. The only ones with significance are Ms. Morgan and this driver. Without them, the whole operation ceases to matter. Even if the driver doesn’t know what’s going on, they’re helping to deliver the message like Ms. Morgan with the package. Mr. Lang is no different from the people in the back of the sound truck who work in isolation but have the greatest social impact. If anything, they’re playing chess, and the cityscape is a chessboard waiting to take out Ms. Morgan the pawn.
The reason “Nightmare” works is because the plot may connect in practical ways, but it also can feel coincidental. There are points where Ms. Morgan could be accused of having a mental disorder and is imagining everything. After all, this is “The Vintage Book of Amnesia.” Something must tie the narrative to a larger theme of memory loss. While I don’t consider this an intention that Jackson necessarily used, it’s easy to understand how Lethem perceives this as an example. The world looks recognizable to the reader, but there’s something ambiguous enough that it becomes scary. There is alienation and fear of being targeted for reasons that aren’t abundantly clear. There’s no surety that Miss X is the same person. For all the reader knows, Miss X will magically appear. Then again, that seems too ridiculous. The mind can’t help but wander through the “what if’s” that Jackson has at play, even if none of them actually exist.
A detail that I only caught when revisiting the first few pages was the suggestion that Ms. Morgan was Miss X in a very obvious way. The package she is delivering is for Mr. Ray Shax. Mr. Ray sounds like mystery. Shax sounds like X. Ms. Morgan’s job is not to miss Shax. While that may be a stretch, I still think that Jackson’s choice to name this mysterious endpoint with an “X” feels intentional. The other detail which is more comical is that “X” is usually the mark for treasure on a map. In the 20th century, it makes sense to make the game a little more difficult than simply walking to a dirt lot and start digging. Jackson’s irony is that nobody cares enough to even try, thus they are literally missing the “X” even as it stands right in front of them.
The way that Jackson uses misdirection throughout “Nightmare” is brilliant. Despite being a straightforward idea, her ability to take the reader into various corners of the city reveals the loftiness of this idea. Everywhere that Ms. Morgan goes, nobody seems to care about Miss X. This is all just marketing run amok. I could imagine living in a city where everyone is bombarded with advertising that one can become immune to it. Because everyone is fighting for space, efforts to be noticed must be pushed to an extreme. This attempt at Miss X is so admirably exaggerated that it makes the readers wonder what it would take to have a marketing campaign that actually works. Here is someone giving away money and prizes in such obvious manners, and yet nobody wants it. In that way, the final page turns the journey into something hilarious.
The story ends with the predictable conclusion. Ms. Morgan hands over the package to the correct person. However, the finale also feels like a play on the overall plotline. A man comes out and asks “Are you Miss X?” Some readers could assume that this is a random person finally winning that prize when it’s Mr. Shax getting what he asked for. As far as the reader knows, Mr. Shax is part of the marketing industry and is disappointed by the outcome. At this point, his reaction symbolizes how Mr. Lang likely feels.
So, what was it all for? Why would Jackson choose to tell a story like “Nightmare”? Besides the fact that it works as a genre reversal, I think it serves as a narrative not dissimilar from “The Lottery.” Even if it’s less taut, it captures a study of how numb American societies are to modern day marketing. Even as it becomes more extreme and pushes the interpersonal boundaries, the efforts to sell a product are ridiculous. The few who become aware of the messaging may become so intoxicated by them that it consumes their mind, creating a sense that it’s everywhere. At the end of the day, it doesn’t do anything meaningful. People move on, finding their own interests overwhelming them. They’ll buy what they want and there’s nothing that marketing can do. Meanwhile, it’s a nightmare for businesses because there is a need to sell, sell, sell and make your brand as popular as possible. Like a balloon, that can only expand so long before it pops. Jackson was onto something here, and I think it will only continue to open itself up as I spend more days thinking about it.
Coming Up Next: Lawrence Shainberg’s “Memories of Amnesia”
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