“Perhaps grief was the recognition of having run out of illusions.” This is a beautifully written story unfolding in such a mysterious, poetic way. Elegant, layered, powerful. Absolutely loved it.
I love Yiyun Li. I’ve read an entire book of her short stories. That’s why I was so bummed that this one didn’t do it for me. I initially gave it a 5 (which I almost never do) but I’m so glad that you found it and resurrected it! I have definitely been thinking about it for several days now, so I switched my 5 to a 6. Maybe I’ll up it to 7 in a few more days if I’m still thinking about it.
SPOILERS BELOW
I’m fascinated by suicide. I’ve known many who have done it, including some who were very close to me. In this story, I felt like so much was missing - the most important details - and I understand that that was the point, the unique way of telling this specific story, but it left me feeling like I needed more information. Also, I guess I just didn’t buy this idea that it was possible to get deeper into feelings about the (sudden, unexpected!) suicide of the son by listing all the other unrelated deaths. So many other details (beautifully written!) just didn’t get me closer to the interior of the main character. I think I was also just waiting for a bigger bang that never came. I don’t know.
Thanks for your comments Bill. Unfortunately, I think we all have experienced the loss of someone we know by suicide. And it’s becoming even more common, especially among teens. I didn’t think this story was about suicide. I felt this story was more about how a parent grieves the loss of a child, especially in such a shocking way. Jiayu questions, “What is grief?” Declares that death brought a “new routine.”
“How had something this colossal found and trapped them, Jiayu thought, when they were so ordinary, so unambitious, so inconspicuous?”
I felt I was in Jiayu’s head/heart as she was navigating such an unknown and devastating journey. She started the spreadsheet because she did not want her son to be “generically dead”, as she had perhaps allowed her relatives to become. It allowed her to focus on the fact that she was not the first parent to loose a child. From my own experience with death, it reopens me to other losses as if a scab has been torn off. So Jiayu was also, through this process of the spreadsheet, allowed to finally grieve the loss of her grandfather. It all resonated with me. How grief can make you a stranger to yourself. I’m always shocked how someone can think they know when one “should get on with their lives” after the death of someone close to them. There is no time table for grieving, no right or wrong way to navigate it. I thought Jiayu’s process really perfect for her. This was not about me, what I wanted from her, or even how I would have reacted in the same situation. I have experienced devastating losses and each one had a different path for me to travel. This was such a different perspective for me and I found it compelling. And that’s what I LOVE about reading and Readup!
Oh my god! Pegeen, I just read that Yiyun Li actually lost a teenage son to suicide! Of course I couldn’t not think back to this story. So devastating! I don’t know how to carry on with my day!!
Hi Bill, This is all so interesting. When I first read this story, I never read it as fiction. I assumed it was real because the way the author wrote about her grief was incredibly unique - her own voice that seemed to be coming from a lived experience. And then I read the current story on Readup from The NY Times. That piece has me challenged - to really understand the word contentment. I will certainly read The NY Times one again. What I know is that I love this woman’s writing - it’s so from the heart. When I feel as you say you feel, what works best for me is to just sit with it and see what comes up. Has this triggered something else within you that needs to be seen and heard? And I mean beyond the obvious. Thanks so much for reaching out, as both stories have touched me deeply. And in this shared space of internal deepness, I feel that indeed we are all connected. I just love when a cliche becomes a truism - when we move beyond the words and feel the vibrational truth of them.
Nuts, right?! This has to be one of the most interesting/strange/unique Readup experiences I’ve ever had and it completely changes the way I think about fiction versus non-fiction (because of your comment!) and also the role of the author to the reader. There is no doubt that both of us have had wild rides here, and it has to do with the fact that our context was so radically different. And, each in our own way, wrong, basically. (Right?)
In “The Death of the Author” by French critic Roland Barthes, he argues against using the intentions and biographical info of an author when interpreting a text. I have an impossible time with that. For me, all writing is connected to the creator.
This was my experience: I remember exactly where I was (on a dock, on a still lake) when I first read this story. I had always loved Yiyun Li, but I was disappointed by this particular story. I remember feeling that it felt fake. And I remember thinking, “C’mon Yiyun. Stick to what you know. Don’t write about suicide if you don’t know anything about it.” You can reread that, basically, in my comment above.
Then, last night, after dinner, I was stoked to discover that Yiyun Li had published some travel writing and I thought, “How fun! I’ll give her another shot.” I felt profoundly sick to my stomach when I got to the third paragraph and discovered, HOLY SHIT (!) her son actually DID commit suicide! IN REAL LIFE. I couldn’t even keep reading I was so freaked out. I had to stop. And mostly I was so hurt/lost/confused about how WRONG I was about the other story. And feeling basically just like an ass. Totally crazy. I still feel, frankly, like I can’t quite trust myself as a reader ever again. Because how could I be so wrong?!
Perhaps, as an experiment, Readup could one day build something like “blind mode” where the names of the authors are entirely hidden. We’d have to evaluate each text, PURELY based on the text. That would be extremely disorienting to me, but perhaps quite telling. I’m so programmed to draw on outside information about the author.
Regardless, as your very different experience demonstrates, it’s not always clear what’s a true story and what’s fiction. So many layers to this madness and sadness.
“Perhaps grief was the recognition of having run out of illusions.” This is a beautifully written story unfolding in such a mysterious, poetic way. Elegant, layered, powerful. Absolutely loved it.
I love Yiyun Li. I’ve read an entire book of her short stories. That’s why I was so bummed that this one didn’t do it for me. I initially gave it a 5 (which I almost never do) but I’m so glad that you found it and resurrected it! I have definitely been thinking about it for several days now, so I switched my 5 to a 6. Maybe I’ll up it to 7 in a few more days if I’m still thinking about it.
SPOILERS BELOW
I’m fascinated by suicide. I’ve known many who have done it, including some who were very close to me. In this story, I felt like so much was missing - the most important details - and I understand that that was the point, the unique way of telling this specific story, but it left me feeling like I needed more information. Also, I guess I just didn’t buy this idea that it was possible to get deeper into feelings about the (sudden, unexpected!) suicide of the son by listing all the other unrelated deaths. So many other details (beautifully written!) just didn’t get me closer to the interior of the main character. I think I was also just waiting for a bigger bang that never came. I don’t know.
Regardless, I’m glad you loved it!
Thanks for your comments Bill. Unfortunately, I think we all have experienced the loss of someone we know by suicide. And it’s becoming even more common, especially among teens. I didn’t think this story was about suicide. I felt this story was more about how a parent grieves the loss of a child, especially in such a shocking way. Jiayu questions, “What is grief?” Declares that death brought a “new routine.” “How had something this colossal found and trapped them, Jiayu thought, when they were so ordinary, so unambitious, so inconspicuous?” I felt I was in Jiayu’s head/heart as she was navigating such an unknown and devastating journey. She started the spreadsheet because she did not want her son to be “generically dead”, as she had perhaps allowed her relatives to become. It allowed her to focus on the fact that she was not the first parent to loose a child. From my own experience with death, it reopens me to other losses as if a scab has been torn off. So Jiayu was also, through this process of the spreadsheet, allowed to finally grieve the loss of her grandfather. It all resonated with me. How grief can make you a stranger to yourself. I’m always shocked how someone can think they know when one “should get on with their lives” after the death of someone close to them. There is no time table for grieving, no right or wrong way to navigate it. I thought Jiayu’s process really perfect for her. This was not about me, what I wanted from her, or even how I would have reacted in the same situation. I have experienced devastating losses and each one had a different path for me to travel. This was such a different perspective for me and I found it compelling. And that’s what I LOVE about reading and Readup!
Oh my god! Pegeen, I just read that Yiyun Li actually lost a teenage son to suicide! Of course I couldn’t not think back to this story. So devastating! I don’t know how to carry on with my day!!
https://readup.com/read/-the-new-york-times-company/a-mother-journeys-through-grief-across-finlands-many-islands
Hi Bill, This is all so interesting. When I first read this story, I never read it as fiction. I assumed it was real because the way the author wrote about her grief was incredibly unique - her own voice that seemed to be coming from a lived experience. And then I read the current story on Readup from The NY Times. That piece has me challenged - to really understand the word contentment. I will certainly read The NY Times one again. What I know is that I love this woman’s writing - it’s so from the heart. When I feel as you say you feel, what works best for me is to just sit with it and see what comes up. Has this triggered something else within you that needs to be seen and heard? And I mean beyond the obvious. Thanks so much for reaching out, as both stories have touched me deeply. And in this shared space of internal deepness, I feel that indeed we are all connected. I just love when a cliche becomes a truism - when we move beyond the words and feel the vibrational truth of them.
Nuts, right?! This has to be one of the most interesting/strange/unique Readup experiences I’ve ever had and it completely changes the way I think about fiction versus non-fiction (because of your comment!) and also the role of the author to the reader. There is no doubt that both of us have had wild rides here, and it has to do with the fact that our context was so radically different. And, each in our own way, wrong, basically. (Right?)
In “The Death of the Author” by French critic Roland Barthes, he argues against using the intentions and biographical info of an author when interpreting a text. I have an impossible time with that. For me, all writing is connected to the creator.
This was my experience: I remember exactly where I was (on a dock, on a still lake) when I first read this story. I had always loved Yiyun Li, but I was disappointed by this particular story. I remember feeling that it felt fake. And I remember thinking, “C’mon Yiyun. Stick to what you know. Don’t write about suicide if you don’t know anything about it.” You can reread that, basically, in my comment above.
Then, last night, after dinner, I was stoked to discover that Yiyun Li had published some travel writing and I thought, “How fun! I’ll give her another shot.” I felt profoundly sick to my stomach when I got to the third paragraph and discovered, HOLY SHIT (!) her son actually DID commit suicide! IN REAL LIFE. I couldn’t even keep reading I was so freaked out. I had to stop. And mostly I was so hurt/lost/confused about how WRONG I was about the other story. And feeling basically just like an ass. Totally crazy. I still feel, frankly, like I can’t quite trust myself as a reader ever again. Because how could I be so wrong?!
Perhaps, as an experiment, Readup could one day build something like “blind mode” where the names of the authors are entirely hidden. We’d have to evaluate each text, PURELY based on the text. That would be extremely disorienting to me, but perhaps quite telling. I’m so programmed to draw on outside information about the author.
Regardless, as your very different experience demonstrates, it’s not always clear what’s a true story and what’s fiction. So many layers to this madness and sadness.