Literature │The Short-Story and ‘I’
Runaway by Alice Munro

(published in “Avrupa” newspaper)

“I don’t really understand a novel…I don’t understand where the excitement is supposed to come in a novel, and I do in a story…I kind of want a moment that’s explosive, and I want everything gathered into that.” These were Munro’s thoughts on the short-story form in 1986; the problem is that not many people share her highly regarded opinion on this form. It seems that, the short- story form is something that does not receive as much respect as the novel, and is regarded as lacking in importance, or even worst, to be considered as being a part of low art culture. Runaway was written in 2004, and the Vintage edition, published in 2006 was accompanied by an introduction, by one Jonathan Franzen. Franzen takes it upon himself to save the reputation of the short-story, along with Munro’s, and pours out all of his emotions on the tragic reception of this poor form that needs to be given a voice, he even titles the introduction; “What Makes You Sure You’re Not the Evil One Yourself?” I may sound harsh, but Franzen’s polemic, which sounds more like an outpour of desperate pleas, come across in such a way, due to his martyrdom to this form.

Franzen begins by discussing how Munro has been an underappreciated writer and sets out in getting his thoughts across by making eight points. One of the eight points look at the way in which her work has been cast off as ‘merely entertainment’, and how it has been accused of not being serious. He even pushes his point by insinuating that ‘we’ the reader are so shallow that we can not take her serious as a writer due to her cheerful disposition, and that she is not the clichéd, dark broody type. Franzen expresses his bitterness and anger for reviewers who he believes to be incapable of reviewing shorter fiction, as they regard it to be “too-hard”. Through much anger and steam which seams to be flying out of his ears, he offers up a quote from Charles McGrath, the former editor of “The New York Times Book Review” who refers to short-story writers as “…people who learn golf by never venturing onto a golf course but instead practicing at a driving range.” Yes this does show the ineptness of minds that can not grasp the short-story form, making them to simply dismiss it, and “yes”, I agree that Franzen has every right stand up for this form, but there is no need to pontificate so avidly to us as though we were dumb and dismissive. In a way, I believe that Munro’s Runaway could have held it’s own without Franzen’s declaration of love, and it would have been a favour to the book had the introduction not felt like an attack on the reader.
Runaway is a compilation of eight stories, which have been carefully titled with one word such as “Chance”, “Silence”, “Trespasses” and “Passion”, and each one provides us a glimpse into the narrator’s lives. Each story makes one feel as though they were walking along the street and have secretly walked up the narrator’s path and peered in through their window, allowing the viewer to sit back and watch in peace, before moving onto the next. The first story “Runaway”, deals with issues surrounding a marriage and what happens when people stop communicating and the way in which one’s fears are capable of causing a temporary blindness. The clever aspect about the short-story is that it is able to deal with a vast amount of genres and situations, almost without missing anything out. The stories, “Chance”, “Soon”, and “Silence” follow segments of Juliet’s life. Although she is extremely bright, she is unable to reach out and make any meaningful human contact, leading to a failed marriage and an estranged daughter. Her story, like many out there, is not one made up of happy endings, as Munro refuses to provide any form of ending, and why should she, as I mentioned before, she is merely allowing us to enter the lives of a few for a few short moments.

Munro covers themes that deal with marriage, loss, illness, childhood, parenthood, suicide, infidelity, and the list goes on. There are moments when one can not help but feel that there is a greater need for a more in-depth development of her characters. Munro has managed to provide fantastic details of thought and feeling, but what is left behind is a strange sinking feeling that there is something missing, as sometimes it feels as though we are being hurried along. Munro’s true accomplishment lays within her ability to tell a story that is, now hold on I’m about to use the dirty word, according to some, “entertaining”, which is what it’s meant to do, it’s meant to take a hold of our attention, for a short period and keep a firm clasp of it. The wonderful thing about the short- story form is that a whole story can be read before falling asleep, or on a long journey to work, what’s really so bad about that? We are not devaluing or discrediting a book by saying that it is perfect for taking your mind off something for a short time. It’s the content of the story that is of importance, therefore the main problem with the short-story is not so much the inept down-grading that goes on by critics, but those that feel that they need to protect it, what I say to them is, if the work is genuinely good, like that of Munro’s, then they really don’t need your help.

© Zehra Mustafa