110 Stories: New York Writes After September 11

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Summary: truth by indirection
Review: i was moved by this book. the works it contains range from poignant (i particularly loved carol gilligan's piece) to experimental to trashy (ok, i hated ames' piece), a perfect swipe of New York City talent/sensibility caught at a life changing moment. as a painter, i have a commitment to truth by indirection and that is the glory of mr. baer's concept. i treasure both the gravity and the diversity of these writers'reflections on loss and life, on their light hearted tangents and fantastic inventions; words, in de lillo's phrase, to fill the howling void. i have never much liked the short story form but this collection accumulates emotionally with surprising depth and insight. we won't know the real meaning of 110 Stories until time has passed and perspective is gained but at the moment, i applaud it as a paean to the art of writing and to the city of new york.

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Summary: Towering Tribute to the Power of Literature
Review: The attack on the World Trade Center was a global event; its long-time effects will be felt across the world. Yet the reaction in New York City has remained deeply personal, and the losses there concern the details of the everyday for the millions of individuals that make New York into such a vibrant, exciting place. Other books have chronicled the rescue efforts, or recreate the ominous day last September via professional and amateur photographs and reporters' notes. With 110 Stories, editor Baer has tapped into New York as that most unusual of places: a city filled with uniquely talented writers: playwrights, authors, poets, screenwriters, wordsmiths, novelists. The power of storytelling is here marshaled to confront and work through overwhelming trauma, and the city's writers (including some big names like Paul Auster, Peter Carey, John Guare, Richard Howard, Darren Aronofsky) have pulled together to create a book-length memorial. I personally loved April Reynolds's mesmerizing, swaying piece on another American disaster (the Mississippi flood in the 1910s), and Lydia Davis's moving and subtle piece on how to refer to her dad when he was (or is?) dying. These writers use fiction to probe issues such as life and death, and to find out whether we should think about these issues now, in this new age, in a different way. At the same time, the book is life-affirming without ever becoming bullying or heavy-handed. It celebrates the immense diversity of America- ranging from a former Mujahedeen reflecting on his losses post-9/11 to a retired US Marine now writing adventure novels, who before 9/11 had a novel all mapped out with the World Trade Center blown up by a nuclear bomb. By including pieces worth reading even apart from the terrible event to which they sometimes obliquely refer, the book as a whole testifies to what has come under attack over the last year. If you like great and intelligent writing, and if you can deal with what's unexpected and provocative, you should pick up this book. If you want to know what literature can do in the face of unspeakable grief, this book is also for you.

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Summary: A Diverse and Eloquent "Chorus"
Review: The use of the word "stories" in the title refers to a variety and abundance of writing by different New York authors of literary fiction, poetry, and dramatic prose. They share their reactions to and perspectives on the tragic events of September 11. All of the selections have been brilliantly edited by Ulrich Baer. In his eloquent Introduction, he quotes Don DeLillo's suggestion that the task at hand was "to give memory, tenderness and meaning to all that howling space" caused by the towers' collapse. These are indeed what Baer characterizes as "110 passages through silence to the first stirrings of a story, to the instant when event becomes tale, when loss gives rise to words." He adds that New York "lives and feeds on its stories, creates tall tales, half-lies and mythologies about itself on which its future depends." The 110 "gripping stories" offer what he terms an "accidental juxtaposition" of adjacent but otherwise unrelated human lives.

I presume to suggest that the book be read as an extended narrative, experienced as one would during a series of brief but lively conversations with strangers along a street in Manhattan. (Yes, yes, I know. Getting even one stranger in that bustling borough to converse is never easy. For present purposes, pretend otherwise.) Some works are more personal than others. Some are more directly responsive to the specific events than are others. Collectively, however, they serve as the literary equivalent of a CAT scan applied to the heart, mind, and soul of a battered but uniquely resilient and and articulate urban culture.