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.
With all apologies to Mr. Lethem, I think that this anthology is borderline terrible. As this column has shown, I have struggled to appreciate the greater meaning of the work he’s compiled. It’s true that there’s a handful that I found to be revelatory and gave me access to new authors to enjoy. However, I am officially 11 entries into this project and have found myself continually coming back to the same talking points. This is something that I would expect with specific authors publishing bodies of work, but not for an expansive list of authors that cover multiple genres and cultural backgrounds. What should’ve been a glimpse into different views of the world has fallen back into hacky premises that are all saying the same thing.
What is the greater theme of amnesia? It’s stories of wandering the world in uncertainty without a real understanding of your surroundings. While the previous entry by Jorge Borges is a hallmark for what this anthology could ultimately be, I find myself landing on Cornell Woolrich’s “The Black Curtain” and feeling a sense of defeat. Maybe these stories could work on their own, but for somebody who has dedicated a column to exploring the themes, I can’t handle this level of redundancy. So many of these stories are merely excerpts of a larger novel. I’m sure those books are phenomenal and I love the tease, but it’s underwhelming without that immediate access.
It’s in large part because as a reader I’m left with a cliffhanger that makes me want to read what happens next. I’m assuming the next chapter is even better than what I’ve just read. The meandering and introspection doesn’t offer enough to give a sense of character. All it does is throw us into yet another “Where am I?” narrative that lacks substance. The writers tend to have an excellent grasp of language and knows how to tease out details, but putting this in a collection of stories like that feels redundant. I’m not left feeling any greater knowledge about memory loss shining through.
As mentioned, there’s some really good stories in here, but “The Black Curtain” will be my last for this series not because Woolrich’s work is that bad, but more because I found it difficult to want to craft an essay that hit the same points. You can only write what I’m about to write so many times before it feels like you’re wasting the reader’s time. As Shirley Jackson proved with “Nightmare,” you can use a dozen pages to tell a full story and actually make the reader want to go back and look for clues. Woolrich’s excerpt maybe has clues, but without access to the greater threads, what am I supposed to do with any of this?
Again, I don’t blame the writers. I believe they had the best intentions when writing those pages. I just think that with over 70% of this series featuring a need to read some greater text, it’s not worth my time to keep being duped. “The Black Curtain” is part of a novel that is 300 pages long and has its own storied legacy. Cary Grant starred in a radio play version and it’s been adapted into various forms of media. I have to believe this novel in question is fantastic because enough people have latched onto something about it.
I want to latch onto that, but this is not a column about reading every book that Lethem is cribbing from. This is about looking at short stories as an art form, and the compilation fails to provoke me in the right ways. Some maybe do a better job of capturing their essence, but I’m still left with an inability to appreciate the arc because this is only a fragment of an indecipherable curve. I’m not here to even interpret the cliffnotes version of that story. What I want is a complete text, or at least one that is substantial and comprehensive.
To give Woolrich the respect he deserves, I will conclude this essay by exploring “The Black Curtain.” The opaque nature of the text is familiar to many other stories in here and helps to establish the world of protagonist Frank Townsend. He has forgotten his memory and is left trying to make sense of the world around him. It’s unclear at first what exactly he is looking for, but he keeps returning to certain corners of this cityscape to find clues.
From my interpretation as a reader, Townsend struck me as a man whose memory lapse was tied to a recent change in status. The writing suggests that he has garnered some wealth and now is able to live indoors. The way that Woolrich describes the indoor quarters makes me suggest that the area is new to him. Even the concept of money seems to be so scrutinized that he seems aware of what the value of a dollar is. Even then, Woolrich makes the exchange so quick and aimless that it creates the sense of being a minor inconvenience. Townsend is going to need to make more money to please this landlord and maintain his new level of comfort.
It’s not clear exactly how he’s making money, but as he goes into the world he has clues to a world that he used to live in. I think it’s here that I assume Townsend started as a homeless man. The way that he describes looking into buildings and finding them inaccessible as he passes by these strange beings only suggests an isolation that the wealthy likely treat the homeless with. Even then, the cyclical nature of trying to get money becomes overbearing. He almost exists solely to funnel money into the hands of this landlord. There’s no relief or even happiness.
All the while, I don’t know that the reader understands who Townsend is. There’s allusions that maybe says something about him, but the emotional crux isn’t there. I think it’s just because there’s no greater self to latch onto and thus lacks a reason to follow his story. Lethem is too indebted to readers already having read the larger text to care about any action that happens by the final pages.
But because this ends with something shocking but ultimately ambiguous, the reader is left underwhelmed. This is a gimmick that can only be used so many times in one anthology, and by now it’s a tired premise. I could imagine in “The Black Curtain” that this is the pull to keep reading. There’s some subtext from other chapters that allow the reader’s mind to keep churning. However, as an excerpt, I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to care about.
Even the theme of amnesia feels lost at this point. Just because a character walks through their landscape confused doesn’t mean it works as this larger commentary. The exploration of atmosphere has been done repeatedly and better in previous stories. Right now, I’m just reading about a man searching for money and doing his best to describe the world in abstract detail. I don’t know what it was about this particular story that pushed me over the edge, but when I got to the final page and felt that lack of fulfillment yet again, I felt the need to jump ship.
So yes, I apologize for ending The Amnesia Series of Short Stop early. My goal was to read every story because I’m sure there’s going to be some fantastic ones in here. I still want to get through Vladimir Nabokov towards the back half. However, as a writing exercise, this journey has become too tedious and I just can’t deal with finding nuance in variations of the same theme. Lethem isn’t really capturing something profound within fiction. He’s merely giving the readers the same entertainment over and over.
Forgive me if I’m the one who didn’t understand the intention of the anthology. My hope was to see a diverse line-up of stories about memory loss. Yes, I’ve gotten at least three or four of them, but they exist alongside variations of the same tired amnesia stories about characters that won’t matter to me the minute I hit “publish” on this. For as much as I want to be dutiful and see this through, I just can’t motivate myself. What I’ve written for this one I’ll have likely written for three of the past five. I can’t take it anymore.
I apologize if this comes across more as a screed than commentary, but sometimes a project is not worth pursuing. Unlike the other series, motivation to get through this has been at an all time low even if the stories are objectively short and easy to read. I have enjoyed the attempted journey, but the rest just feels suffocating at this point. I’m sorry to those who wanted me to see this through, but I just can’t. I’m probably going back to author-centric series just because I have found those to be more satisfying and capable of producing some interesting commentary.
As to what that is, I’m not entirely sure yet. I’m asking everyone to be patient as I scrounge around and find a new author to focus on for the second half of 2024. I plan to have something going by the start of July. I swear I’ll sound enthused this time around.
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