“Once Removed”
by Alexander MacLeod
from the February 7, 2022 issue of The New Yorker
Oh, it’s so nice to see Alexander MacLeod show up in The New Yorker. I really enjoyed his debut story collection, Light Lifting, which is now — I hesitate to check — oh my, twelve years old. Alexander is the son of acclaimed short story writer Alistair MacLeod, so I know part of my delight in seeing him here is because it reminds me of how much, aside from his own stories, I’ve enjoyed his father’s stories. Looking into this, MacLeod has a new collection coming from FSG in April! I am excited to get a taste in “Once Removed.”
I like what I’m seeing in the first few paragraphs:
She did not want to visit the old lady.
Amy studied the stroller, then the bags, then her boyfriend and the baby. She checked her phone: 11:26 a.m. It was time to go. Ninety degrees, ninety-per-cent humidity, and, according to Google, more than an hour each way. Each stage had its own icon, like the Olympic events, and all the separate minutes were broken up, then totalled at the end. walk 10 min, train 36 min, bus 15 min, walk 9 min.
Please let me know what you think when you’re done! I look forward to your comments!
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New to the writer and wanting to read more Canadian lit, I tried to be as open-minded and patient as possible, though the kvetching back-and-forth dialogue and the feeling that I was entering a story in the “domestic issues” genre had the word “pedestrian” flashing in my noodle. First time parents with infant, a visit to a relative on a hot day, yadda yadda. The unpacking of the exposition and he’s from this part of the country and she’s from that part and all that seemed generic and bland.
Quirky old relative with weird name? OK. Intriguing. And her unnamed situation in the past (lesbianism or some other thing that was once taboo and no longer is) is a welcome bite of ambiguity. But the protagonist and her bf don’t feel entirely distinctive. And I know some of the readers here are less adverb averse than I am, but “They rang the bell at precisely one, and Greet’s voice immediately came crackling through the metal vent of the speaker system” seems to be a point in my favor regarding the tiresome little buggers.
I will say that Greet’s pragmatic and old school love of children and respect for them as people overshadowing the young and mostly superficial parents’ (Matt and Amy are well-named, I will say, and same for Greet and Reggie) safety-obsessed BS was fun to read. And when the author takes the time to create an inner world for Amy, it works rather well (the whole heist/caper thing, for example, or the joy of having a person who shares your loves and your enemies, or the kaleidoscope).
The regular barrages of choppy super-short paragraphs are unwelcome, though. When the author allows his prose to develop into chunkier sets of sentences, he accrues some momentum. By the end of the story and Amy’s flash forward, he’s imbued her character with something approaching three-dimensionality. Greet is a representation of a generation more than a character but she’s the most engaging presence here. The very ending is rather on the nose/gilded lily. The piece works better if it ends with “Just a ball of light, drawing them in.” Those last two paragraphs are rather extraneous.
Again, I don’t know the author and a quick search reveals predictable details – legacy kid from artsy/writerly family, Notre Dame & McGill, generically handsome former athlete – but based on this one piece I am on the fence. He seems to have some game (very good title, for example), but I also had my fair share of issues with this story. And though the author interview of course has no impact on my opinion of this story, he came across as a bit formulaic and longwinded.