\nby Joseph O’Neill<\/span>
\nfrom the November 11, 2019 issue of\u00a0The New Yorker<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n
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Unfortunately, I haven’t really liked O’Neill’s work since, and that includes a number of his stories that have appeared in\u00a0The New Yorker<\/em> in the ensuing decade.<\/p>\n “The Flier” might be different. Here’s how it begins:<\/p>\n The whole business led my wife to suggest a conference with our dear friends Pam and Becky, who were discreet and worldly and kind. She wrote them:<\/span><\/p>\n Hey wonderful people! Can we drag you over for dinner Wednesday? Short notice — but there’s something we’d like to talk over with you.<\/span><\/p>\n I prepared the meal — cucumber soup, grilled chicken breast, and a lentil-and-scallion salad. Cooking had been Viki’s thing, not mine, but I’d been stuck at home for months and the kitchen had become a place of recreation. Also, my relationship with my body had changed.<\/span><\/p>\n Pam and Becky arrived on the dot, at seven. My illness had made me very small and very light, and they embraced me gently.<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n I’m immediately intrigued. What is the “whole business”? What might require a conference with friends who were “discreet and worldly and kind.” What is going on with the narrator’s body. I’ve read enough to know the answers to those questinos, but I don’t know the answer to this question: Will the story pay off?<\/p>\n As you can see from when I post this, it’s another busy week that has distracted me from doing even minimal work here on the blog. I’m truly hopeful this is all going to change and I can get back in rhythm. I need it!<\/p>\n But, in the meantime, take it away! What do you think of “The Flier”?<\/p>\n [\/fusion_text][fusion_builder_row_inner][fusion_builder_column_inner type=”1_2″ layout=”1_2″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”0″ border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding_top=”” padding_right=”” padding_bottom=”” padding_left=”” margin_top=”” margin_bottom=”” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”small-visibility,medium-visibility,large-visibility” center_content=”no” last=”no” min_height=”” hover_type=”none” link=”” border_position=”all”][fusion_text columns=”” column_min_width=”” column_spacing=”” rule_style=”default” rule_size=”” rule_color=”” hide_on_mobile=”small-visibility,medium-visibility,large-visibility” class=”” id=””]<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/11\/November-11-2019.jpg?resize=385%2C530\")
[fusion_dropcap boxed=”no” boxed_radius=”” class=”” id=”” color=”#003366″]T[\/fusion_dropcap]his week we get a new story by Joseph O’Neill. I’ve said it here a number of times over the years, but it’s worth saying again for those who don’t know or don’t remember. I read Joseph O’Neill’s\u00a0Netherland <\/em>in July 2008, the first month of this blog. Hearing his name always takes me back, particularly because I was reading it at the hospital when my second son was born, my son who happens to be named Holland (I promise it wasn’t in homage to O’Neill’s book, but I like how it all lined up). I thought the book was tremendous. I haven’t read it since, but I still think back on it fondly.<\/p>\n