“Are You Experienced?”
by David Means
from the October 21, 2019 issue of The New Yorker
I like David Means’s work, and I’m glad to see he is back in The New Yorker. And folks who enjoyed his 2016 novel, Hystopia, will be pleased to know that in “Are You Experienced?” Means is going back to that alternate world nearly fifty years ago. This story begins with Billy and Meg dropping acid.
They dropped late in the morning and then sat for an hour silently waiting for the kick in Billy’s boarding-house room, the grove of aspen trees on the edge of the field outside quivering in the summer breeze. The house was situated along the old road to the beach, not much more than ten miles from Lake Michigan. Inside, she sat looking at the poster Billy had tacked to the wall: a cartoon figure with a big leg extended, presenting an oversized shoe and, below the heel, the words “Keep On Truckin’.” She was waiting for it to move, which it did, eventually, dancing in a way that seemed remorseful, trying to lure her in, until it turned into an aberration that somehow mirrored Billy himself, thinning out into a slim boy, with a never-ending array of plans, brilliant with his own energies, performing a little gyrating dance—the heavy shoes falling away, becoming dainty little feet (because Billy did have small feet), the hand waving at her to come on in, to join the fun, the way you’d expect an older man to lure a girl in—and she was a kid that summer, just sixteen, and Billy was at least nineteen and, unbeknownst to either of them at the time, about to head off to war.
There seems to have been several New Yorker stories recently where an author builds on a world he or she worked on in a novel or prior collection of stories. These stories are not really sequels, and they stand alone, though of course they benefit if you are familiar with the world and characters already.
What do you think of these kinds of stories? I’m quite curious. I myself enjoy it, usually, when an author returns — even again and again — to a world or character in independent works.
Anyway, even though there is so much turmoil out there, I hope you’re week is starting well and that you’ll let us all know what you think of this David Means story.
Trevor,
I haven’t read the David Means story but I totally agree with you that the New Yorker has recently reinvented and reinvigorated itself with the respective worlds of Rion Amilcar Scott “Shape-ups at Delilah’s” and Joyce Carol Oates in “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God”. Such good writing gives context to what is happening in our lives through the lives of others even if in a somewhat different universe. Sometimes you get what you hoped for if you give it a chance.
It would be great if someone would explain what the writer is trying to communicate in this story. It seems like dull, drab, slacker college age kids channeling and sort of dissecting the spirit of Jimi Hendricks, Jim Morrison and other more minor psychedelic trope-like idealogical footprints near Lansing, Michigan. Only thing I can think of is that it is examining the dull but sort of slightly perceptible acute horror of being broke and unmotivated and in a partial sociologic funk over being bored with life and dropping acid as a temporary time pass. What did I miss? How is a story like this so great that it warrants being published in the New Yorker?
I think she takes the money and runs!
I listened to this today on the podcast on the walk to and from the supermarket – so my attention was a bit distracted at times, and I lost the thread towards the end. It seemed to me the era in which it was set – early 70s? – shifted to the future? Or maybe Jeff above is right, the boy simply went off into a monologue as his uncle did, and his girlfriend Meg stole the cash off him. All seemed a bit nasty to me.
Wow! Negativity, dudes! I think Means is a great stylist and this was impressive just from the long, flowing sentences and the masterful shifts from interior to exterior, past to present. I don’t know if these are characters I’d want to follow at length but, and I’ve said this before, when a story is this short it doesn’t have to necessarily be something you’d want to spend time with. I think he perfectly captures a state of druggie being, of rambling thoughts, fungible time and the whole hippe thing and it has a great virtuosic last paragraph.
I just read this short story via the 2022 book that collected Means’s stories….and I believe the objective of the short piece was to show Meg’s maturation process by her observing Billy’s bizarre behaviour….hence the title, “Are You Experienced?”