Review by Booklist Review
Davis' many major accolades now include the PEN /Malamud Award for short stories, a form she practices in a distinctly and delectably epigrammatic manner. Davis is a maestro of concision, yet her very short stories are alive with extraordinary nuances of feelings and thoughts. Some are very funny; others are provocative or deeply moving. Some of her pithier tales run in series, such as "Claim to Fame" and "Marriage Moment of Annoyance." Her narrators are bookish, as Davis is. They also travel a lot by train and are fascinated by neighbors, whether in the country or the city or at nearby tables in a restaurant. Friendships are scrutinized; odd occurrences and tragedies are recounted. Language itself can be the hook, overheard conversations a source. Davis considers age with dismay and compassion, portraying old men with particular gentleness and unexpected beauty. She writes of animals and plants, irritating personalities, and how the ordinary can turn surreal. Postings on a community website offering and seeking objects and services are hilarious and revealing. Some stories are poems. Davis' tales are concentrated, insightful, intriguing, and resonant.
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Translator and essayist Davis (Essays One and Two) returns to fiction with this lovely collection, which will be available only in libraries and independent bookstores. It combines super-short pieces--some could be jokes, or poems, even haiku; some have titles nearly as long as the stories themselves--with longer stories, and invites readers to revel in the magic of the mundane. The narrator of the devastating yet hilarious "A Mother's Devotion" considers the conceit implied in the title: "I'd sacrifice my right arm to see him well and happy. Well, maybe not my right arm, but certainly my left." A series titled "Claim to Fame" identifies the narrator's connections to various historical figures ("Karl Marx and my father both had daughters. Both daughters grew up to become translators. Both translated Gustave Flaubert's Madame Bovary," reads the entirety of one). In the wonderful "Winter Letter," a woman writes to her grown children about a trip she and her husband took to Texas, where she encounters old friends, books, and wildlife. Throughout, Davis revels in the glory of well-wrought details. These spot-on depictions of life's low-key moments are best savored in small bursts. (Oct.)
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Review by Kirkus Book Review
Davis, whose prodigious output includes translations, essays, and stories, is back with an overflowing treasure chest of jewel-like stories. Davis' stories, some no longer than a sentence, others arranged on the page like poems, eschew the conventions of fiction and instead focus on small, significant moments. "I saw something white moving through the air by the side of the house," the narrator in "A Matter of Perspective" observes. "I thought it was a large white butterfly fluttering by-- / a rare white butterfly! / But it was only a special delivery letter, / Coming past the window in the postman's hand." This attention to perspective, to the significance of details as well as the possibility of misperception and miscommunication, animates Davis' work. In some cases, it's linguistic, as in "Caramel Drizzle," a playful piece about the difference between adding "caramel syrup" or "caramel drizzle" to a coffee drink, or "Letter to the Father," in which a poet whose father is dead wonders, "Do I have a father, or did I have a father?" How much can depend on our perceptions? these stories relentlessly ask. In "Incident on the Train," a woman asks a young couple to watch her belongings only to begin to worry that they aren't responsible because "the guy's eyes are bloodshot, and the girl has a lot of tattoos." As in many of Davis' stories, the narrator's second-guessing leads not to clarity but only more confusion and chaos. Though these stories pose serious questions, their tone is always playful, tender, and irreverent. A series of pieces titled "Claim to Fame" poke gentle fun at the practice of claiming fame by association: "In Detroit, standing in a line, I met a woman who turned out to be the daughter of Samuel Beckett's publisher Barney Rossett." And in "Pardon the Intrusion," Davis creates a community board of things that people are giving away or seeking. Some of the requests are ordinary ("Would anyone like this toddler bed?") and others slightly wacky ("Pardon the intrusion, but I and the Professor have a surfeit of borage. Any suggestions?"), but together they tell a story about how our idiosyncrasies bring us together. A collection that you'll want to keep on your bedside table by one of America's most original short story writers. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.