“Just a Little Fever”
by Sheila Heti
from the April 18, 2022 issue of The New Yorker
This week’s story is Sheila Heti’s “Just a Little Fever.” I know that I’ve read a story by Heti before, but it was a long time ago and, though I have a copy of her latest, Pure Colour, I have not been keeping up with the rest of her work.
Consequently, this opening surprised me, and I don’t know what she’s up to at all!
She was shampooing her hair with cherries. It was entirely her idea to do it—she hadn’t read about it anywhere. She had taken the little cellophane sack of cherries out of her bag and put the cherries in a wooden bowl and pounded them down with a flat, broad spoon, drawing out the pits with her fingers, then she had slipped into the shower and put the whole mess on her head and shampooed it in with a little bit of moisture. This was her way of treating herself, since only the moon seemed to be on her side, shining down silver on her coat that night. After she rinsed out her hair, it was pink and smelled like cherries. She went to bed with it wet like that, and when she woke up it looked like her head had bled in the night. She put the pillowcase in the sink with a bit of soap and left for her day in the world, the sun shining down on her, creating a golden armor that coated her body entirely.
Please join in the conversation and let us know how you felt about this story!
This bank teller really goes the extra mile to deliver customer service! Where is this bank and how do I set up an account? Oh la la! Seriously, I found this story heartbreaking. At the beginning, Angela is following her own instincts, listening to her own muse, but gradually as the story progresses she is talked out of her feelings and perceptions by the comments and behavior of others, first Thomas’ son, then the co-workers at the bank and then Tom’s other two girlfriends. Or perhaps, more accurately, Angela is influenced by her perceptions of others’ comments and behavior. By the end of the story, she has completely adopted the conventional perspective of their relationship as impractical and doomed ultimately and a view of Thomas that is a caricature. The ‘head’ has won over the ‘heart.’ The woman who washes her hair with cherries on impulse and allows herself to be called by another woman’s name (trying on a new persona) by the end has recovered from her fever and become just another young bank teller. How often have I also allowed my instinctual self to lose out to the societal view of a situation or relationship? I guess I see myself in Angela a bit. I also think there is something significant about names in this story. Angela is asked to take on and likes taking on the new name Pearl. She insists on calling Thomas by the name “Tom”. Lastly, I think the fact that this relationship takes place around a bank is significant….is it perhaps a commentary on the transactional nature of relationships? Just found this site. I’m glad to have a place in which to talk about New Yorker stories, so many of which enthrall me. Yet, before now, I had no one to talk to about them.
Hi, Arthur 2Sheds. Welcome. I love this site for the exact reasons you are glad you found it. I have always read the short fiction in the New Yorker and wondered what other people thought about it.
As for this story, I liked it but I’m wondering about the interpretation you have of her surrendering to conformity. Your analysis makes total sense and you have good evidence but maybe I was too caught up IN her conventionality that I didn’t quite have a strong feeling either way about her ending the relationship.
Welcome, Arthur. Thanks for your comnents, it saves me from writing at length. I think you have got it perfectly. Angela takes a spontaneous fling with an older, self-contained man and finds temporary happiness. But then her courage fails and she throws it away as she falls into a conventional attitude, partly as a result of her fellow tellers’ influence.
Most important in my view — when you get your self-acceptance from being with another person you are at risk. It must come from yourself.
My first impression of this story was that it was solipsistic, closed-in in its narrow worldview. But by the end, I realized it is about fundamental human behavior so the style is appropriate. I looked up Heti and found a good interview in the Guardian. From the interview I found that this is her subject matter.
William, you nailed why I had some problems with the story in describing a ‘closed-in…narrow worldview.”
Welcome, Mr. 2 Sheds (and I will refrain from asking you about your name, ha ha.) I also love having this forum.
I really enjoyed the idea of having a voice reassuring me that everything I do is okay. Unfortunately, that voice often betrays us and closes its account. The real world requires comparisons and attempts at improvement; it’s just the way we are made. Once we find our place in the human race, we rather enjoy the competition, despite the occasional disappointment. That’s what I took from it. And it’s always interesting to read others’ perspectives!
The story was short but perfectly formed. Looking back over the years where I have been reading stories from The New Yorker, I identify common characteristics – a deceptively homely, personal and conversational style, so that you actually feel you know the protagonist, (or even, in the best stories, you ARE the protagonist). This story has it all – and the allegory as well, the levels of metaphor that others above have pointed out. Loved it – nothing to criticise at all!
“Quirky and clever” is what it’s going for but I’m not sure it quite gets there. The sentence-level writing is simple and straightforward, bordering on simplistic and overly basic. There’s some tonal inconsistency. At times it reads more like magical realism or overly simplistic allegory. It certainly strains credulity if read as realism. It feels rather dashed off, an exercise in voice and unreliable narrator-ism and incorporating fantastical elements into a modern-day setting. But as a sort of “bedtime story for adults” it’s got some vim at least.