The Bridegroom by Ha Jin

~
The Bridegroom, a collection of short stories by Ha Jin (Pantheon, 2000).

. . . Tong Guhan was a simple man, not very interested in power.  But recently he realized that if he were the vice director, he could have moved into a new apartment long ago and said to his son, "Prepare for the wedding!" and he could also have written to his daughter, "Forget veterinary medicine and come back home.  I'll get you a residence card and find you a good job here."  Obviously the solutions to both problems depended on whether his promotion would materialize in time.  These days he became anxious.  Every morning, when watering the violets, cannas, roses, and cyclamen in his tiny backyard, he'd pray in silence that today he'd be officially notified of the promotion. . . . 
--From "Alive," pp. 17-42, originally published in AGNI, Number 45 (1997). 

 

A letter was lying on Nimei's desk.  She was puzzled because the envelope did not give a return address.  The postmark showed the letter came from Harbin, but she knew nobody in that city. 

--From "Flame," pp. 126-141, originally published in The Missouri Review, Issue 20.3 (Fall 1997).  

A poem by R.S. Thomas from The Writer's Chronicle and three poems by Keetje Kuipers from her book The Keys to the Jail

~

To all light things

I compared her; to

a snowflake, a feather. . . .
 --From "Comparisons," a poem by R.S. Thomas, from Collected Later Poems 1988-2000 (Bloodaxe Books, 2004), reprinted in The Writer's Chronicle (October/November 2013), p. 56.  

 

It was the season of dead moles,

black silken pelts like evening purses

abandoned along the forest path. . . . 

--From "Our Last Vacation," a poem by Keetje Kuipers, published by Connotation Press, Volume 5, Issue 8 (April 2014) and reprinted in her collection The Keys to the Jail (BOA Editions, 2014), p. 15.    

 

 

What if I came here with some idea

of this place, of who I could be when I'm

 

in it: Learned the names for every clouded

body of water. . . .  

--From "Dog Gun Lake," a poem by Keetje Kuipers, published by Lo-Ball and reprinted in her collection The Keys to the Jail (BOA Editions, 2014), p. 59.  

 

 

It was a beautiful night for the rodeo. 

Rain all day and then a sheen of evening

sun.  I went to the grocery store, bought

someone else's bread, some else's

milk. . . .    

--From "A Beautiful Night for the Rodeo," a poem by Keetje Kuipers, published by American Poetry Review (May/June 2013) and reprinted in Poetry Daily and in her collection The Keys to the Jail (BOA Editions, 2014), p. 81.   

Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk

~
Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk: A Modest Bestiary, a collection of sixteen short animal-themed stories by David Sedaris, illustrated by Ian Falconer (Little, Brown and Company, 2010). 

This book is not for everyone, and although I suppose the same could be said for all of his collections, this one seems even more in need of a little warning label.  It's illustrated (by an author/illustrator of books for children); it's a collection of, essentially, fables; and the protagonists are animals.  Some of the stories have violent twists or other unsavory elements, though, and there is often accompanying artwork.  With that caveat, these were my favorites:

The squirrel and the chipmunk had been dating for two weeks when they ran out of things to talk about. 
--From "The Squirrel and the Chipmunk," pp. 14-21, which was originally broadcast in a slightly different form on Public Radio International's This American Life with host Ira Glass (February 10, 2006). 

 

Plenty of animals had pets, but few were more devoted than the mouse, who owned a baby corn snake—"A rescue snake," she'd be quick to inform you.  This made it sound like he'd been snatched from the jaws of a raccoon, but what she'd really rescued him from was a life without her love.  And what sort of a life would that have been?

--From "The Mouse and the Snake," pp. 40-49.  

. . . "They are too your children," [my wife had] said, referring to her last litter, a party of four that looked no more like me than that ---- of a raccoon.  I knew they were fathered by the English bull terrier across the street, but what are you going to do?  Everyone's entitled to one mistake, aren't they?  
--From "The Faithful Setter," pp. 60-73. 

Waiting by Ha Jin

~
Every summer Lin Kong returned to Goose Village to divorce his wife, Shuyu.  Together they had appeared at the courthouse in Wujia Town many times, but she had always changed her mind at the last moment when the judge asked if she would accept a divorce.  Year after year, they went to Wujia Town and came back with the same marriage license issued to them by the county's registry office twenty years before.  
        This summer Lin Kong returned with a new letter of recommendation for the divorce, which had been provided for him by the army hospital in Muji City, where he served as a doctor.  Once more he planned to take his wife to the courthouse and end their marriage.  Before he left for home, he had promised Manna Wu, his girlfriend at the hospital, that this time he would try his best to make Shuyu stick to her word after she agreed to a divorce.  
        As an officer, he had a twelve-day leave each year. . . but by now a whole week had passed and he had not yet mentioned a word to his wife about the divorce.  Whenever the subject came to his tongue, he postponed it for another day. . . .   

--From Waiting, a novel by Ha Jin (Vintage, 1999).  The book was a National Book Award winner, a nominee for the Pulitzer Prize, and the winner of the 2000 PEN/Faulkner Award. 

"Your Sick" by Kelly Magee and Carol Guess

~
. . .
          When I got to the hotel I tried to page you. I repeated your name over and over. No one at the hotel had ever heard of you. I paced the lobby, trying to decide what to do.
           I decided to eat dinner in the hotel restaurant. The waiter sat me near the kitchen, which bothered me until I realized I could see everyone in the room: suits and soldiers, families and prostitutes. At first I didn’t notice you in a chair by the window. Lipstick, and you’d dyed your hair. You were talking to a very beautiful woman. The wine was the wine you’d sent to my room.
           I finished my dinner. As I left the restaurant I dropped my check on your table and smiled at your date. You wore a nametag, but it wasn’t your name. You looked up at me and your eyes glazed with panic.
           Later that night you knocked on my door. Just to be sure it was you I called out your old name and your new name, both.
           It’s me, you said. I wasn’t sure which me you meant, which name to use, but it didn’t matter. You ran your fingers through my hair. You pressed me up against the sink and things happened which weren’t supposed to happen, now that we weren’t together. . . .
  
--From "Your Sick," a short story by Kelly Magee and Carol Guess, Anomalous, Issue 11, pp. 28-33.

The Spring 2014 issue of the Apple Valley Review

~
The Spring 2014 issue of the journal features prose poetry by W.J. Preston and Kelly Scarff; poetry by Robert Lavett Smith, Louisa Howerow, Gail Peck, Abby Rosenthal, Roger Pfingston, and P. Ivan Young; an essay by Vivian Wagner; short fiction by Dave Patterson, Beth Konkoski, and Jennifer Stern; and oil and paper collage by cover artist Ann Marshall. 

The Fall 2013 issue, which was published in October of 2013 and is now available in the archive, features short fiction by Robert Radin and Inderjeet Mani; an essay by Sue Fagalde Lick; poetry by Judith Waller Carroll, Danusha V. Goska, José Angel Araguz, Nandini Dhar, Richard Spilman, Sandra Kohler, and Eric Nelson; and pastel on archival board by cover artist Mary Aslin.

The Apple Valley Review is a semiannual online literary journal. The current issue, previous issues, subscription information, and complete submission guidelines are available at www.applevalleyreview.com.