New Beattie stories are a 'Maine' event
Some things never change, but that can be a good thing — as in the subtlety and wit of Ann Beattie’s fiction. The title of her first new story collection in a decade, The State We’re In, refers to a physical place — the state of Maine, where most of these 15 stories are set — but also to the state of mind of her characters: stuck, noncommittal, unfulfilled, troubled.
Beattie is known as a master minimalist, yet she’s also a master of the mundane. Her characters lead uneventful lives. They don’t seem terribly shocked when things go wrong, whether by way of illness or relationships. A cancer scare, as in the opening story, is revealed in a casually tossed in line, wedged between a woman’s request for takeout pizza and mention of her reliance on Amazon Prime.
That story, “What Magical Realism Would Be,” introduces 17-year-old Jocelyn, who appears in three stories, including the final piece, “The Repurposed Barn.” Jocelyn is spending the summer with her Aunt Bettina and Uncle Raleigh, hating summer school, dreading the future, and navigating her friendships. In the first story, she learns that a boy she likes, T.G., is in the emergency room getting his stomach pumped; only in the last story is it revealed that they had sex, and that he attempted suicide soon afterward -- “though the two things were unrelated,” she says.
These stories are loosely connected, with shifting perpsectives; characters in one story show up for cameos in others (as does a vast collection of Elvis memorabilia). Dogs figure prominently, too. In “Yancey,” named for the 77-year-old narrator’s pet (around whom her life revolves), the woman reveals that she and Yancey “sometimes split a microwaved chicken burrito for dinner. I wash it down with a glass of white wine, Yancey with a small bowl of milk.”
As happens so often in Beattie’s stories, this one seems to set up one narrative only to set off on another. “Don’t worry,” the woman says, “I do have a topic of conversation other than the dog.” She is a poet who’s been questioned by the IRS about the validity of her home office. When an IRS investigator shows up at her house to view the space for himself, their conversation turns personal — she tells him about her daughter coming out, and learns that the man’s daughter is an aspiring playwright at Sarah Lawrence, and that his wife has a drinking problem. “No day failed to contain the unexpected,” she reflects.
Somehow the afternoon ends with the narrator reciting her favorite James Wright poem, “Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota,” with its famous last line: “I have wasted my life.”
Beattie’s sharp, funny dialogue is evident throughout. In the third story featuring Jocelyn, “Endless Rain in a Paper Cup” (the title comes from the Beatles’ “Across the Universe”), she irritates her strict Aunt Bettina with her rude attitude and lingo. After Jocelyn says “OMG” in response to learning that her mother has Lyme disease, Bettina reminds her: “Please use the English language and don’t act like you’re texting me.”
Although a few of these stories seem slight, The State We’re In is a strong collection, offering Beattie’s sly insights into marriage, family, home, friendship, and much more.
The State We're In: Maine Stories
By Ann Beattie
Scribner, 206 pp.
3.5 stars out of four