I enjoyed this collection of short stories by Hannah Lee Kidder. It includes 11 short stories, six of which are flash fiction. The flash fiction was excellent. Kidder rarely uses exposition, and all of her stories in this collection unfold gradually with little to no expositional setup, leading the reader along through intrigue. Whether her stories end in a twist or not, there is almost always an excellent “drop” at the end—an “Oh, crap” realization either of plot (as in The Swamp Witch or Margrove) or in theme (as in Warm, which might be my favorite). All of her stories start right where they should, in the middle of a scene which she sets well. As for the endings, the flash fictions don’t necessarily have one—and often deliberately so (which makes sense, given the nature of flash fiction, which I am new to and which seem to me almost as “scenes” or even parts of scenes). Several of stories end so as to enlighten the whole story, or to shift the reader’s perspective. For instance, the last line of Ink shows what everything preceding it really entailed, and the end of Mother shows the illusion that misled both the reader and protagonist throughout the story. Or in Bruising and Warm, the end begs new questions: When does violence end and healing begin, and how does violence impact our view of the world (disillusioning us, or warping our understanding); or how might an act of self-defense impact our view of ourselves?
Contained deserves credit as a good flash fiction of our childish fear of monsters. I’m 28 and my imagination still sometimes gets the better of me in this regard. That’s why I sleep with a Desert Eagle within arm’s reach (all the rounds having been dipped in holy water, of course).
Out of the longer short stories, I only liked two of the five—Starlit Shadows and Passing Ghosts. I enjoyed both of these due to their themes of acceptance and clandestine platonic love amid abuse, or at least some level of cruelty, from one parent, while the other parent remains passive. What exposition there is comes along naturally and piecemeal, or else through a flashback narrative scene. Since even this flashback scene (in Starlit Shadows) is later in the story, the reader doesn’t miss out on the joy of figuring things out himself as the stories unfold; and the narrative style of the scene doesn’t feel so much like exposition.
I am still trying to figure out what I think of the endings of Starlit Shadows and Passing Ghosts. As for the latter, I am pretty sure I do like the ending. The importance of an affirming person in someone’s life, and the impact they can have on one another, is portrayed well in this somewhat bizarre ghost story. Kidder shows two people, though a world apart, each affirming the other as worthwhile, and how that changes their experience of the world from one of loneliness to a place where one can be seen, received, and then do the same for another outside the original relationship.
In Starlit Shadows, the pacing and the writing itself is good, and it includes some lines that evoke the tone of the scene: “I watch the skeleton trees swallow her up,” and (regarding an abusive character who has a limp), “His foot drags the floor toward me. . . .” I enjoyed the chilling expositional twist when the story jumps forward six years, lulling the reader into a sense of a transition and maybe even hope, only to immediately learn of a disaster that happened shortly after the previous scene six years ago. We expect disaster around the corner before us, but not behind us. I thought that was clever. It would be like if a Harry Potter book began, “Harry had spent that Summer grieving Hermione’s death after she choked on a chocolate frog coming home on the Hogwarts Express.” (Though less clunky than that sentence. But just think of the choking hazards of chocolate frogs.)
As for the ending, I’m not sure I see the buildup to the protagonist’s decision. We have Annabelle and Kathryn sneaking out at night, and then the flashback to a similar night, then the final scene with her difficult and fatal decision. Perhaps the idea is that Kathryn reminds her on that starlit night of all she loved and lost since that night so long ago—that now she is losing Kathryn, also. I could believe that. But psychological trauma can be so deep-rooted, and since in the last scene we have the line, “The sides of my vision darken, and I can’t move,” I thought perhaps there ought to have been more to get her out of her “freeze” response. However, the sense of vindictiveness in her last line, and the subsequent realization of what has become of her mother, could well be enough. Regardless, it was still a well-written story which I definitely enjoyed. Similar to my potential qualm with Starlit Shadows, the reason I disliked The Swamp Witch, Margrove, and White Rabbit was mostly thematic. There didn’t seem to be a whole lot of depth to them, especially not to Swamp Witch. Margrove was a little predictable, and White Rabbit was not my type of story. Even so, I enjoyed Kidder’s writing, and I would recommend this collection (especially the shorter ones within) to anyone who wants to read some dark and overall well-written short stories. My personal favorites were Contained, Warm, Bruising, Home, Starlit Shadows, and Passing Ghosts.
The Curious Critic 