Writer's light snack

I'm still full after reading The Infernal Desire Machines of Doctor Hoffman. So my question is: do I fancy the light snack of a short story? With this in mind, I sauntered over to Bookcase One and touched a copy of The Bloody Chamber, Angela Carter's collection of enriched fairy tales, and pondered.

Is a short story any less substantial than the meal of a novel? I had to admit to myself that no, on the whole they're more dense, more concentrated and, word-for-word, richer than novels. Certainly not snack like.

There's much talk of the short story being a different animal. Yet there's as much range and scope for imaginative play as for the novel. A couple of years back I had the pleasure of rereading a short story by Doris Lessing called Through the Tunnel. I first tasted this exquisite gem when I was at secondary school and I was taught English by a passionate hippy-like girl teacher. She didn't stay with us for very long. I like to think she went onto bigger and better things. Yet her enthusiasm touched me. The story was nestled within a compendium of stories collected for children. Unashamedly there were whole chapters lifted out of novels. Sorely tempted though I was to half-inch the volume I stumbled across above the fireplace (we were summer holidaying in a caravan in Pembrokeshire and the book sat amongst luminaries such as The Geology of South Wales), when we left I didn't take it; A, reasoning that pilfering is bad (it is), and more importantly, that someone else would be denied the enjoyment I'd gained if I lowered myself to possess the old printing.

The story concerns a boy on holiday with his mother and he notices a bunch of other boys swimming under the sea for long periods of time. He discovers that they are swimming through an undersea tunnel. His sense of self-worth starts to become wrapped up with doing the same. Forgive me - I'm already starting to become anxious as I hold my breath. This anxiety must have manifested itself within me for I wrote a short story myself some years later called Canal D'Amour (in Pinch Points). Later on, I read The Good Terrorist and was dazzled by Doris Lessing's ability to take the grist of human experience and turn it into literary nourishment. Later, when I came across the collection containing Through The Tunnel, I made the connection to her.

I hope you enjoyed my little digression.

I think it's fair to say that a short story has to conjure the whole world of a novel. Obviously there's less resource to do it (though note, more than a poem). It would be very difficult to compress the features of Save The Cat into a short story, and maybe this is as well. I also think that in a short story one has to choose attributes that suggest a wider field. The reader should feel satisfied, yet at the same time ask him or herself questions about what else might happen next or might have happened before, or other questions about the characters or setting or trajectory. Needless to say, a good writer will have the backstory in her pocket should the reader ever call the writer out - or at least give the impression they could do so if confronted.

So, considering the nature of the snacks my children love to munch with their gaudy wrappers and processed ingredients; a short story has much more nutritional value on an intellectual level than its food equivalent, say a bag of crisps or a chocolate bar. But, the short story does have enhanced flavour and can be very moreish.

Another quick detour.

I read Lionel Shriver's collection of short stories, Property, and was mesmerised. I couldn't wait to get back to it and devour another one. I read Chuck Palahniuk's Make Something Up and laughed so much I was embarrassed. The writing was so seamless and puerile, I was in awe at the juxtaposition of such talent and his gaudy hinterland of wasted opportunities. Literature should make us better people; at least strive to.

So, to summarise. In real life one can eat nothing but snacks every day - biscuits, crisps, popcorn, candy bars. junk food and the like and get away with it for a while, but then one will feel pretty awful and get ill and lead a diminished existence. On the other hand, a diet solely of short stories would not be detrimental to one's literary wellbeing (should such a thing be manifestible - there's a word), indeed one could be full and nourished and satisfied well into old age and possibly beyond.

I conclude: 'Short stories Are Not Snacks!' Let's have this printed on T-shirts.