“Demolition”
by Fiona McFarlane
from the May 25, 2020 issue of The New Yorker
Fiona McFarlane is the author of The Night Guest, which came out back in 2013. However, I know her only because of the stories she has already published in The New Yorker: “Art Appreciation” (thoughts here) and “Buttony” (thoughts here). I went back to see what I thought of them, but I didn’t write anything! I’m not sure, then, if I actually read them, though I think I remember “Art Appreciation.” Regardless, those stories were well received by commenters.
Here we have “Demolition,” which, according to the interview with Deborah Treisman, is centered on the demolition of a home in which a serial killer lived, and is from the perspective of the neighbor across the street. Sounds like there might be a bit of Rear Window here since the neighbor is wheel-chair bound. I’m definitely interested!
Please feel free to leave your thoughts below. I look forward to reading and discussing this one with you!
I thought this an effective exploration of memory–we may forget things for awhile, tamp them down, but then they return, yet can always be put aside again. The main character here is not tormented by memories yet there is an impact from the experiences of the house next door. I was reminded, as with Tessa Hadley and recently the story by Sarah Shun-lien Bynum, of Alice Munro. The template is an older woman going back to experiences that have marked her and which she is reminded of by something occuring in the narrative’s present. I doubt Munro invented this but she seems to have mastered this mode. That said, this was a compelling story with emotionally involving characters and situation.
Help! I see the Rear Window reference, but so what? And what does the girls’ youthful romance have to do with anything? How does the letter relate to the monster and his depredations? Does she believe that she could have stopped him? And why does she hate the neighbor, Jarrett? What’s going on here?
I just read the story and have all the same questions as William posed. While I was somewhat intrigued by the story I also don’t see the relevance to those questions. What are the implications? Like William also I don’t have the answers. I was expecting some revelation, and while it is not a necessity for any story that poses questions to answer them, in this case it feels inadequate.
I agree with William and with those who agree with William. The story seemed to me a pastiche of hot topic tropes (disability, serial crime, lesbianism), but it had no wattage either of narrative skill or of plot. It reminded me, in its homely rambling, of stories from the Ladies Home Journal with some naughty bits inserted “for today’s enlightened readers.”
Thanks MW. Always glad to have your thoughts. Your mention of the LHJ took me back to my childhood. My mother used to read it all the time. Do they still publish?
I liked the hidden layers, the real story of the Lainey house, coming out little by little, while everyone was focused on the serial killer. I couldn’t recall her earlier stories but this was a nice discovery, prompting me to learn more about the author.
For me it was a brilliantly written story in which we find that perhaps our retired principal, wheelchair bound hero of the story could have been somewhat culpable for the serial killers actions. There is a suggestion that her cruel killing of the stink bugs and the insensitive way she dealt with his love may have inspired Paul. She ridiculed his candle in the window suggestion and then ghosted him. He had been a very gentle boy. There is also suggestions that she wouldn’t save Jarrett from a burning fire. Perhaps she in turn was broken by the ending of her forbidden love affair, and she in turn repeated the cycle with Paul Bigar. It is also a possibility that we have an unreliable narrator and that we are not being told everything about how Paul fell in love with her. Sorry if this isn’t very coherent.