Random House
Review by Walter Cummins
Variations of similar human tensions unite the twelve stories in this collection. In each, at least one character stands out as mastering one or more measure of significance—wealth, talent, success, fame. The people stand out when compared with the American population in general. They live in upscale communities, enjoy affluent lifestyles, thrive in prestigious careers, attend competitive prep schools and top level colleges. Anyone driving through their neighborhoods or attending their social events would be envious. Yet some in those upscale communities are not satisfied with their own lives. In the stories often the most seemingly privileged, apparently at the top in the eyes of others, are most unfulfilled.
I’m reminded of a game people played in the fifties and sixties—one-upmanship. What’s involved is a demonstration of superiority over others in one’s circle. For example, a person who had a ticket for the U.S. Open tennis semifinal could be one-upped by a rival who saw the final at Wimbledon. Often the issue of contention is subtle, not the standard middle class rivalry of car make or lawn acreage, but a matter of significance the middle class wouldn’t even understand, such as a meal on the terrace of the Alpina Gstaad.
A few quit the competition. For example, Lee Fiora, the narrator of “Lost but Not Forgotten,” the long story that concludes the collection, after experiencing several five-year reunions at Ault, the prep school she attended, begins to see her former classmates in a new light: “I’m not sure they were actually more boring than the average adult, but it surprised me more, because of how much I’d once cared what they thought of me. They, too, it turned out, led with discussions about their kids’ sports teams, their trips to Telluride and Paris, and the mild winter.” In effect, Lee, unlike many of her contemporaries, no longer cares about competing in bouts of prep one-upmanship.
One of the ongoing issues for the stories involves characters burned out with such a life game but seeking an alternative for measuring what they have achieved or should seek in their lives. Some find an answer, some just realize what they don’t want, which is what they already have.
Frequently, the seeking central character is one who once felt inferior—one-upped—by their more affluent and more accomplished fellows. Lee, as an Ault student, felt self-conscious because she was there on a scholarship and lacked the sophisticated life preparation of the others—the country club, the travels, the clothing, the elegant restaurants. Since graduation from Ault and a transition to a more prestigious social rank, she is confused about her identity: “As a boarding school student, I always felt that I was implicitly apologizing for not being sufficiently rich and preppy and privileged. In all the years since I graduated, I’ve been reckoning with just how rich, preppy, and privileged I am.”
Like central characters of other stories in the collection, including those who have grown up in affluence, Lee feels herself to be an imposter, playing a role of substance and importance even when she does have a prestigious career and social status.
In some cases, if members of an entire group are special, like attendees at a Ault reunion, at least one is even more special. For Lee’s thirtieth reunion, the high point is the rumored appearance of Bryce Finley, a pop music superstar, who never actually graduated from Ault, finishing elsewhere, but reclaimed by the school because of his fame. Lee, when a sophomore living in what had been Finley’s undergraduate room, met him when he returned for what would have been his tenth reunion, already a superstar.
He came into the darkened room unaware that Lee was already sleeping. After they climb out to the narrow roof, Finley reveals that he had been “spring-cleaned,” dismissed, after his junior year as not being the “right fit” for Ault. His father had wanted to sue the school, but Finley hadn’t cared to fight back. Yet, tears in his eyes, he is still troubled by not being wanted by Ault. “Well, look at me now,” he tells Lee. “But the problem is that fame is a mirage, too. You just feel lonely in a different way.”
At her thirtieth, Finley not showing, Lee reconnects with a man, Jeff, from her class, who had had a crush on her. They eventually marry and Jeff quits his financial manager career to move in with Lee in her Michigan home. Ault students don’t live in obscure Michigan, no matter how much money they have.
When considered in its plot summary, “Lost but Not Forgotten” may sound like a genre romance. But Sittenfeld adds to the gravitas of her stories through the originality of her specific situations, the depth of her characters, the wit of their interchanges, and her social insights.
The collection’s title story, “Show Don’t Tell,” is set in a very different environment, but still one focused on personal achievement, this time an MFA creative writing program in which just four students are chosen for the major second-year grants. Ruth, the insecure narrator, wins one, along with Bhadveer and two others. Only Ruth and Bhadveer go on to publish successful novels, hers best sellers but labeled women’s fiction, his considered literary and potential Pulitzer Prize material. When they meet for a drink, Ruth can tell he considers himself one-up but admitting another member of their class, Grant, who turned to screenwriting and has won two Oscars is even more successful. Other stories are built on characters already near the top who want to fulfill a greater need or achieve a higher worth. But in the game of one-upmanship it’s hard not to accept being in second or third or forth place.
