A Story Writer With Few Peers

Since early June - when I scaled back on the volume of blog posts I publish - one of my challenges has been deciding which worthy books I've recently read will go unmentioned here. But from the moment I finished the title story of "Tenth Of December"  (2013) by George Saunders weeks ago, there was no doubt. I've never read a book of short stories by the same author anything like this. Many compare Saunders to Chekhov. Except for their economy with words, the comparison doesn't ring true for me. Saunders's twisted imagination makes him sui generis.

Because the ten stories in this singular volume can be read in any order, I suggest starting with "Escape From Spiderland". If you're not immobilized by that gruesome tale of science run amok, then move next to "Puppy"; if you're a parent, prepare yourself for that one. But parent or not, you'll need a break, so rewind now to the opening story called "A Victory Lap". It's not warm and fuzzy but the three voices telling this story are brilliant and you need to brace yourself for "The Semplica Girl Diaries". I'm reasonably certain I'll never forget this penetrating story of class. It reads like perverse science fiction. Pretend Philip K Dick and Edgar Allen Poe collaborated to turn one of JG Ballard's weird stories into a parable about keeping up with the Joneses. It is an indescribable masterpiece.

After those first four, go back to "Sticks" and read everything in between. Just be sure to save the title story for last. The first time I get around to re-building my Mt. Rushmore of short stories, "Tenth Of December" will be replacing one of my original four. George Saunders doesn't do happy or cuddly but he has few contemporary peers in real, redemptive, and relevant. He is an unmitigated treasure.