Published in The Economist 23rd April 2018
Lionel Shriver’s first collection of short stories explore the nature of generosity, the cost of money and the meaning of worth.
LIONEL SHRIVER’s literary currency is hard, topical fiction. Her 12 novels range—controversially—from school shootings and the Northern Irish Troubles to immigration, demography, terrorism, the American healthcare system, obesity and, most recently, finance. (She is also a former contributor to The Economist.) Thematically resonating with her novel “The Mandibles” (2016), “Property” is the author’s first short story collection. Ten stories flanked by two novellas posit that possessions may in turn possess their owners, while exploring definitions of generosity, the emotional cost of money and the subjectivity of worth.
Drawing on Ms Shriver’s personal interests, including her long-time love for tennis and her 12 years of experience as a journalist in Belfast, “Property” opens and closes with novellas. Each, in their way, negotiate threesomes of sorts. In “The Standing Chandelier”, a tennis-playing friendship in college-town Virginia disintegrates after one of the players becomes engaged and receives a unique wedding gift. In “The Subletter”, an American columnist and her unwanted flatmate, “conflict junkies” both, squabble over Northern Ireland—the third part of the threesome, a contested territory to which neither may lay claim. The shorter stories, set largely in America and Britain, range from the bordered confines of a London garden to the cloying luxury of an overseas paradisiacal resort, from the confiscation of a tube of ChapStick at an American airport to a haunted semi-detached house in London.
Ms Shriver has stated that her writing, like that of her literary heroine Edith Wharton, aims to bridge “the literary and the popular”. Appearing halfway through the collection, “Kilifi Creek”, which won a BBC National Short Story Award in 2014, achieves those aims amply, presenting a springily taut, swooping story of a young girl’s near-death experience on a gap-year in Kenya. “Vermin”, meanwhile, expertly explores the lines between hosting and being invaded, between ownership and being ousted. When a New York, newly-in-love couple manage to buy their rental property, the racoons that came with it swiftly turn from being endearing to being an “infestation”, as the couple experience the diminishing, rather than empowering, effects of responsibility. Gradually, the property is sanitised, and with that its unique freewheeling charm, like the raffish heart of their marriage, is stripped away. Here, the questions raised by E.M. Forster’s “My Wood”—used as Ms Shriver’s prologue—are acutely pertinent. ‘If you own things, what’s their effect on you? What’s the effect of me on my wood?’
Complex and clever, “Kilifi Creek” and “Vermin” testify to the author’s powers. Other inclusions in “Property” are puzzling; “The Self-Seeding Sycamore”, “The Royal Male” and “Negative Equity”, despite their sometimes eclectic lexicon, are neatly droll, erring-on-twee stories depriving the reader of breadth of vista or, indeed, Ms Shriver’s reassuring bite. In “Paradise to Perdition”, the heavy-handed presence of the narrator errs on pastiche, disrupting a story set in a resort in the Indian Ocean. In a story collection there is little room for error, and their presence mars this exploration of an otherwise fascinating, endlessly contemporary subject.
Apr 27th 2018