Short stories have been good to me. At Influx Press we’ve published collections that have won prizes and sold lots of copies. It’s also the form in which I started my own writing career, before I chose the path of least resistance through my valuable academic study of pub carpets. I have always read short stories, but I’ve never once thought about my favourites, or those most influential to me until this personal anthology. I have no real concept of what this list says about me as a reader or a person, something my therapist would be very disappointed to hear, but a lack of insight isn’t necessarily a terrible thing in this case. These are purely stories that have made me feel something; a belly laugh, or a cringing stomach twist, a blubbering weep, or even a burst of pride.
So consider this an Anthology of Feels. And in no particular order, of course.
Right, so this one I edited and published in An Unreliable Guide to London, which is why I have feelings for it. Mostly pride, I think, and admiration. Schilz’s meander through Hanwell and Ealing is an exceptional piece of writing that takes in the history of an unwritten part of London, her own personal childhood, some totally made up nonsense and much more in between. It is lyrical, funny, stuffed with character and energy. I have never visited Hanwell, nor do I plan to any time soon, but it is so fully rendered in ‘Beating the Bounds’ that I almost feel like I don’t need to.
From An Unreliable Guide to London, Influx Press 2016
I was introduced to Percival Everett by Courttia Newland (more on him later). Since then I have tried to read as many Everett books as possible (there are over 25), but he is not very widely published in the UK, so books have proved hard to get hold of. Everett is an absolute master of storytelling and subversion. He loves to play with form and narrative and expectations and ‘The Appropriation of Cultures’ is him as his mischievous, provocative best. A black musician, Daniel is playing slide guitar in a bar one evening with his band, when some white frat boys ask him, “Play Dixie, play Dixie!” Dixie being, of course, a famous blackface minstrel song. Daniel thinks about refusing, but chooses to take on the song and repurpose it for himself, “deciding the lyrics were his”, and totally transforms the atmosphere of the room. No longer than a page, the power in the story and its minimal delivery is quite phenomenal.
From Damned if I Do, Graywolf 2004
This was my first and still my favourite Ballard story. I think I read this when I was around seventeen years old and I’d only really read books like Of Mice and Men and The Remains of the Day at school. I wasn’t a big reader until I got to my late teens – too busy kicking footballs, throwing cricket balls and playing with my own balls to care about literature. Essentially, I had no idea that you could write like this – with a total lack of characters or plot, no dialogue and certainly no particular literary merit to speak of. What I love about this story is that the concept (time travel meant you could make TV news set in the past by travelling there and filming it) rules the entire six pages. It’s bold and Ballard is clearly just sketching out an idea without needing such bourgeois complications like characterisation. Little did I know that absolutely everything he wrote is like this and it does get tiresome if you binge on it. But this story, it’s still my first love, and it always will be.
1972, from The Complete Short Stories Volume 2, Harper Perennial 2006
Irenosen Okojie’s 2016 collection Speak Gigantular will be rated a 21st century modern classic in years to come, I’m certain of it. The imagination, wit, energy and bravura in that book is unparalleled and I’ve loved reading and re-reading it over the last couple of years. The literary punch in stories like ‘Gunk’, the pathos in ‘Why is Pepe Canary Yellow?’ and the oddness of ‘Jody’ make her book an unequivocal joy. My favourite story in the book is ‘Walk with Sleep’, a strange tale of limbo in the London Underground. It is told with real elegance and poise. The central conceit is haunting – that those who commit suicide on the Underground meet each other as ghosts, trying to find their way back to the world, and many times I’m waiting for a train at a Tube station I think about it and imagine Okojie’s characters playing in the tunnels.
From Speak Gigantular, Jacaranda Books 2016
Now, I don’t know about you, but I remember the hype and furore around this story when it was released. Reports of people fainting in the audience when Palahniuk read it out loud, suggestions to ban the sick filth of it by newspapers, reading it out to your mates to make them squirm and get dizzy. Not until ‘Cat Person’ was published do I remember a short story being so hyped – and this was way before social media existed. The story itself: a boy is finding different, increasingly more extreme methods of masturbating, until one day he is wanking in his swimming pool and is attracted to the pull of the pool drain, leading to what a doctor would call, trans-anal intestinal evisceration. It’s a rough read, graphic and bloody and gross, but it’s brilliantly represented on the page. ‘Guts’ was a total masterclass in extreme literature being allowed in to hallowed spaces like the South Bank (where I saw Palahnuick read it). It was published in Playboy and if I remember correctly, also in a UK newspaper. I think this would prove to be Palahniuk’s last great work, following great novels such as Fight Club, Lullaby and Survivor.
First published in Playboy, 2004, collected in Haunted, Vintage 2005
This story comes from the brilliant Blaft Anthology of Tamil Pulp Fiction I picked up in India earlier this year. Tamil Nadu has a long history of publishing pulp novels and short stories that are traditionally sold at train stations and newsagents across the state (I suppose in a slightly similar fashion to the old Penny Dreadfuls). Tamil writing, much like its cinema, has a unique style and approach and is a fascinating, vital part of south Indian culture. This story from Subha (aka two school friends Suresh and Balakrishnan who, since 1983, have co-authored around 550 short novels, 50 longer novels serialised in magazines and more than 400 short stories – phew!), is a classic – featuring their long running characters Narendran and Vaijayanthi of Eagle Eye Detective Agency. It explores corruption and religion in state politics and power, via slapstick and crime noir. I love the setting and the set up, and it reminds me of the many trips I have taken to south India in the last fifteen years. I’m not going to pretend you should read all Subha’s work, as that would take you a lifetime, but if you’re going to read one story, this is it.
Collected in the Blaft Anthology of Tamil Pulp Fiction, Blaft, 2008