Random Review
Up at a Villa
Disclaimer: The author's intent is to select a literary magazine at random from a neighborhood bookstore and take from it a short story, also randomly. He will then sit in one of those comfortable chairs, read the story and make notes. With that done he will return the magazine to the shelf and take his leave. He will have already paid for something at the café, so no one should think the less of him.
Proudly promoting itself as a finalist for the National Magazine Award on the cover, Zoetrope is often considered as one of the literary magazines on the rise. Added to which, they are now the very first magazine chosen for my column, selected randomly mind you. These recognitions aside, Zoetrope has found a way to stretch the limits of conventional literary publications with seemingly each issue, in favor of the experimental. This current issue would be another example of this, as the interior artwork ranges from the sexual to the grotesque, while many times both at once. The literary works, too, have been planned with this theme in mind, Helen Simpson's "Up at a Villa" among them.
The story is written on the middle ground between a piece of flash fiction and a short story. It is primarily centered around a single moment shared between seven characters. Of the seven, three are members of a family who are enjoying a seemingly pleasant afternoon in a pool. The other four are a group of friends, stranded naked after skinny dipping in that same pool, where none of them in fact belonged. It's only after they wake up from a nap close by that they realize their clothes are hidden poolside, next to a family they've never met before.
As the story progresses, it becomes clear that the anonymous, exotic location is meant as a false backdrop for the deteriorating relationship of the married couple. All that seems to be holding the two together is their small baby, which isn't enough to bring anything resembling love to their marriage. The husband Harvey continually tries to avoid addressing the issue of their relationship, while his wife, left anonymous, brings it up continually throughout the story.
While they argue, the four friends stay out of sight, watching and waiting for an opportunity to gather their belongings. Since they can do nothing else, the four begin to immerse themselves in the couples' relationship. Basically they sit back and judge. Tina finds herself disgusted with the 'gross stomach' of the wife while Charlotte sees neither to be any fatter than the other. The two guys of the group, Nick and Joe, essentially have no important role in the story and just take it easy as they enjoy a peak at the topless wife.
Several of Simpson's narrative details in this story go far in enhancing its sensual nature. Phrases like 'wrenched from a wine-dark slumber' and 'leaping low bushes of lavender and thyme' add vividness to the setting and situation. Simpson stays consistent with these details throughout, and only a few times makes questionable choices. In one instance she describes the wife as acting 'like a loser,' which took me out of the narration. There was such a clear attempt on Simpson's part throughout to create an atmosphere of exoticism that I couldn't understand this coarse word choice.
But what struck me most about this story was how well the structure worked with the theme of voyeurism. The story exists primarily in that single day at the pool. Instead of creating a world of back story, Simpson decides to focus almost singularly on this encounter. It's very much as if we were viewing the four as they were viewing the couple, a sort of dual voyeurism. To me this was the story's main charm.
As a result, this made me question the inclusion of a single memory from Charlotte's youth, when she oversaw a couple's erotic exploits through their window. While in one sense this may seem to match the theme of the story, it more importantly takes us out of that day which Simpson has otherwise stayed true with throughout and conflicts with the momentary essence of voyeurism. This flashback also gets us more involved with Charlotte as a character, which doesn't benefit us in the long run, as the story ends with her being nearly as much of a mystery as her friends.
While this does detract from the overall effect of the story, the majority of Simpson's choices worked well within its structure. Her decision of keeping the wife unnamed conveys the purpose of her character quite clearly, as she is meant as a representation for the many women who have been in her marital situation. While naming her husband does dull this effect somewhat, it doesn't hinder her universality from coming across. This is illuminated further, and even more effectively, when the group begins to get involved with the wife, as all four begin to see traits of their own mothers in her character. So much so, that by the story's end, we can see the twist of irony Simpson was building to from the start.
Brian Ellis
Brian Ellis cannot currently impress you with a list of accomplishments. He is a writer of fiction who has been sending his works out to magazines and inappreciative agents. He is also a reviewer who intends not to take out any bitterness on the works at hand, to the best of his ability. Brian takes solace in the fact that even if he could impress you, he wouldn't want to.
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