BitterSweetLife

A Flash Review: Dark Waves, Bright Eyes & Heroism


Early this summer, I stumbled across a book of short stories by Mark Helprin, The Pacific. I read one. Then I read the entire volume. As someone who aspires to write short stories, I have deliberately exposed myself to a lot of them—something you should not do without a good reason.

Since a lot of short stories written after the early 1900s make you want to wander through rainy streets, weeping, until you find a quiet alley and drink hemlock, it would be an understatement to say that Helprin’s stories were a welcome change.

In fact, I suspect that the lack of despair in Helprin’s work probably annoys critics to no end, and has prevented his stuff from getting published (so far as I know) in any of the Best Short Stories of ___ [insert year] collections.

Hey, their loss. When I opened The Pacific, I was about ready to crumple the pages into bite-sized wads and eat them if I read one more story about a well-meaning protagonist who discovers, in an interesting way, that life is really a nihilistic hell. Fortunately, Helprin eschews this route like a technical climber skirting swampland. He chooses Everest over the Everglades.

Helprin’s writing is keenly bright and ambitious with meaning. Seems that he can’t help himself; his stories swing for the fences every time. He lacks the vacuous moral framework that sends many authors careening (gently, tenderly, vividly, carefully, with structure and pace) through a story to prove that life is meaningless. Helprin is the antithesis to, in Barbara Kingsolver’s words, “stylishly ironic stories about nothing much.”

I’m not saying that Helprin’s stories always have happy endings. But they are filled with purposeful action, sharp with clear intent. The Pacific features women that are really beautiful, battles that are actually worth fighting, and melodies that can break your heart. Helprin’s prose shines because his genius has a moral compass, and it comes as a relief to read stories that do not end in existential anticlimax.

Ultimately, Helprin’s stories in The Pacific ring true because they are true to life’s skeleton and not merely its peripheral sensations. I don’t know much about this guy’s background, but more of his books are on their way to my shelf.

Listed on the Master Book List.