"Like a sick heart"
Our first fiction preview from Issue Fifteen
“I can’t remember how I first became aware of my mother’s other husbands,” muses the narrator of Mariah Kreutter’s short story. In “My Mother’s Husbands,” a daughter grapples with the shadows cast by her mother’s former partners — and her own mommy issues. How much is inherited, Kreutter asks, and how much of our parents’ influence can we ultimately cast off? Read the full story online now to find out.
MARIAH KREUTTER
I was eating a garden tomato over the sink when Mom told me Dad was dying. He had been dying for a long time, but I received this as news. I think she needed it to be news. The tomato, huge and watery, enlarged like a sick heart, fell apart in my hands.
OK, as a reincarnated pulp writer and all-round smart aleck, I find the current trend of "terminal-adult autofiction" tiresome in the extreme. However well-crafted, ( as this piece is ) it's indicative of a cultural mindset that no longer knows how look beyond the inevitability of mortal limitations and just shut up and enjoy the passing mirage for the color play. Ironically, even as stuffy as the New Yorker traditionally is, they occasionally feature witty fiction and bravely fly the humor flag (very badly, mostly but still...)
when everyone else has just given up and bought tickets for the long March to the grave...No wonder people aren't reading like they used to......