Best American Short Stories 2016

"If the novel is our culture’s favored literary form, upon which we heap all our desiccated literary laurels, if the novel is, say, our Jaime Lannister, then the short story is our very own Tyrion: the disdained little brother, the perennial underdog. But what an underdog," writes guest editor Junot Diaz in his introduction of The Best American Short Stories 2016,using pop culture metaphors. He goes on, "That’s the thing—just as they’re beginning they’re ending. As with stories, so with us. To me this form captures better than any other what it is to be human—the brevity of our moments, the cruel irrevocability when those times places and people we hold the most dear slip through our fingers."

I'm not sure I agree, as to me a satisfying novel is one of the great pleasures of life, but I get his point: a good short story may be harder to write. You know the old Mark Twain quote: "I would have written a shorter letter but I didn't have time."

Diaz, who is a Dominican by birth, has made sure that all cultures are heard from in this collection: Arabic, in "Apollo," by Chimimanda Ngozi Adichie, in which a young boy's callous like ruins a servant, and "The Suitcase," a charming story by Meron Hadero, in which a young woman is returning to America and has to fill her suitcase with all sorts of things her relatives are sending back. "Ravalushun," by Mohammed Naseehu Ali, concerns war-torn Ghana.

Aiian viewpoints are represented with "Garments," by Tahmina Anam, about Bengali women working in a clothing factory. They are amused by the Spanx they are making, and call them "Thanks." Lisa Ko's "Pat + Sam" concerns a romance between two Chinese-Americans, and "On This Side," by Yuko Sakata, is set in Japan and has a lowly vending machine attendant taking in a stray woman. Louise Erdrich, our most prominent Native American writers, has an entry with "The Flower," which is actually a part of her recent novel, LaRose.

As for our rich Latino literature, there is "The Letician Age," about a young Hispanic girl from the Bronx who decides she wants to be a geologist, but gets a little too close to a volcano. The African-American experience is expressed in John Edgar Wideman's "Williamsburg Bridge," which sees a black writer poised on the title bridge, ready to jump, remembering listen to Sonny Rollins when he played on the bridge. "If a person intent on suicide is also seeking rapture, why not choose the Williamsburg Bridge."

There are also stories by white people. Karen Russell has a strong entry with "The Prospectors" about two young women who climb a mountain in Oregon and find a ski resort full of ghosts (Russell has decamped from Florida, where she set most of her work, and is now in Oregon, so I guess we can expect more about the people from that state). We also get the unfortunately common story of a child's illness with "Gifted," by Sharon Solwitz. It's well-written, but these kind of tales can be so manipulative--no one can be unaffected about a story about a child with cancer--that it kind of takes one out of the story.

A few of my favorites are "Cold Little Bird," by Ben Marcus, a chilling story about a boy who suddenly cuts off his parents, not wanting to be touched, unable to love. I liked Smith Henderson's "Treasure State," two men driving around the country, fleeing their father. I think my favorite story is "Secret Stream," by Hector Tobar. A bicyclist comes across a kind of mysterious woman who is a "river geek," and is tracking a stream that runs through Los Angeles, a stream that has been there since before there were people there. The young man develops a kind of fascination with her, and follows her on her excursions. He is also interested in exploring, and after reading it you may be interested in finding a stream and following it to its source.

All in all, Diaz made some excellent, diverse choices. There are only a few duds not worth mentioning, and they were different enough to keep my interested.