5— Wednesday, January 9, 2019
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

It takes only a page or two of
reading to realize that the cover
of “Milkman” is deceptive. The
binding of the 2018 winner of
the Man Booker Prize depicts
an innocuous, fluorescent-pink
sunset — one of those once a year,
stop-and-snap-a-photo sunsets
that makes “Milkman” stands
out among its fellow books.
The
sedative
lightness
of the cover seems to admit
innocuousness. But “Milkman”
is not innocuous. Nor is it gentle,
or quiet, or apologetic — nothing
that the cover may suggest about
a subdued, romantic narrative.
To say I wasn’t excited to read
the Booker winner would be a
lie — based on the superficiality
of covers and excerpts, I have
rooted for “Milkman” since its

nomination on the long-list —
but the way I fell in love with
reading “Milkman” was not in the
pleasant, blushing manner I had

expected. It was a cycle of shock,
recoil and return.
Anna
Burns’s
third
novel
narrates the story of an 18-year-
old girl (referred to as “Middle

Sister,” as none of the characters
in “Milkman” are prescribed
actual names) over the course of
two months. Her unnamed town
is saturated with violence —
violence from the ubiquitously
demonized
enemy
countries
“over the water,” violence from
the renouncers of the state that
control Middle Sister’s town and
violence from the state police
as they intervene in a village
of
scattered
revolutionaries.
Surprisingly, though, this war-
zone setting is but an offhand
normality in the book. Instead,
it is Milkman, a paramilitary
that begins making unwarranted
advances on middle sister, that
takes the place of chief antagonist
in the book.
At first glance, Burns lays out an
insidious landscape that seems to
hyperbolize the dark experience
of growing up as a woman in
the late 20th century. Maybe,

THE WB

BOOK REVIEW

The last “Revisiting” piece
I wrote covered “Mad Men,” a
show that many deem to have
ushered in the “Golden Age” of
television, along with classics
such as “The Sopranos,” “Six
Feet Under” and “Deadwood.”
In a similar vein, Joss Whedon’s
“Buffy
the
Vampire
Slayer”
has occupied a space where its
mixture of cult status and critical
acclaim has elevated it into the
pantheon of legendary TV.
And yet, I spent the first 18
years of my life never watching
it — not due to my ignorance of
its existence, but rather because
I thought it had a “silly name.”
Over its nearly 150-episode span,
“Buffy”
somehow
traversed
nearly every sociological and
philosophical
quandary
you
could think of. Its basic premise
is that the protagonist Buffy
(Sarah Michelle Gellar, “The
Crazy Ones”) is a special teenager
endowed
with
superhuman
strength and other attributes to
help defeat the demonic presence
in her hometown of Sunnydale,
California. Her group of friends,
known as the “Scooby Gang,”
help her throughout the process.
It still took me embarrassingly
long to stop dismissing the
fantastical,
supernatural
elements of the show, even
though it is these very elements
that make the show so intriguing.
Academics, in particular, seem to
have an affinity towards the show,
creating (perhaps facetiously)
a new academic field called
Buffy-ology to analyze the social
dynamics it portrays. To them,
the demons and monsters can
be compared to anything from
terrorists to sexual predators. It
is possible, due to its influence,
that popular culture is becoming
a more respectable subject of
study.
I still maintain that the show
took entirely too long (nearly two
seasons) to find its groove. But

when it did, it really did. It features
some of the best portrayals of
young adult life I have seen on
TV, both acknowledging but not
belittling the drama and emotions
that pervade it. It handles high
school life especially well, leading
to a slight dropoff in quality after
many main characters eventually
graduate.
The
“Buffyverse”
has
remained so popular through
the years that it has permeated
nearly every form of media. For
starters, the series “Angel,” a
spinoff centering on the vampire
of
the
same
name
(David

Boreanaz,
“Bones”),
received
similar
amounts
of
acclaim.
There have been (frankly not very
good) novels, six video games
and recently, an in-development
sequel.
“Buffy” may not have the
prestige drama veneer of “Mad
Men” or “The Sopranos” or the
gritty realism of “The Wire,” but
that does not mean it is necessarily
any less complex. “Buffy” is
fantastical and surreal, but it
uses those elements to make as
valuable a social commentary as
the former, all while dismantling
TV tropes and norms that were
all too prevalent in the era.
“Innocence”
(Season
2,
Episode 14)
This is the episode that firmly

convinced me the show was on a
path towards greatness. It starts
as a touching portrayal of young
love
and
sexual
awakening,
but the turn it takes as a result
was my first true jaw-on-the-
floor moment in the series.
While Buffy’s loss of innocence
is heartbreaking, it aids in her
development, allowing her to
end the episode a stronger,
more mature character. Perhaps
the most resonant aspect of
the episode is the fact that
the emotions Buffy feels are a
universal experience at that age,
even if we do not have to go out
and kill demons.
“The Body” (Season 5, Episode
16)
“The Body” lies in the same
tier of episodes as “Ozymandias”
and “College.” In a show whose
strengths lied in its subtle use
of music and sound effects, this
episode contained neither. Sure,
it is a painful watch, containing
barely any (if at all) catharsis.
Like Buffy, we are dragged on
a
rollercoaster
of
confusion,
sadness
and
horror,
lacking
any
discernible
explanation
or justification for what just
happened. It’s actually one of
the
less
fantastical
episodes
of the series, which makes the
events that transpire even more
shocking and brutal. It tackles
human mortality in a way that we
can all relate to.
“Hush” (Season 4, Episode 10)
It takes a tremendous amount
of skill to make a compelling
episode of television with little to
no dialogue. Like the more recent
episode of “Bojack Horseman”
(“Fish Out of Water”), “Hush”
features little speaking roles due
to a group of ghouls stealing the
voices of Sunnydale’s residents.
These ghouls, known as “The
Gentlemen,” are some of the
show’s creepiest beings, even
scaring the cast during the
episode’s production. Overall,
the episode is an intriguing
examination of the power of
language in its ability to express
clearly yet also to obscure.

SAYAN GHOSH
Daily Arts Writer

REVISITING SERIES

We
are
all
constantly
running out of time. In reading
that sentence you just ran out
of at least one second. If that
gives you as much stress as
it does me, this list is for you.
Reading to me is like food and
air — I can’t go a day without it.
But, recently, getting through
entire novels seems to be
taking up far too much of my
time. Yet, I still crave the act
of reading. The creative thrill
of piecing together strings of
words into images that only
your mind pays witness to can
be addicting. This is why I’ve
started to maximize the most of
my time and brain capacity by
reading short fiction. Through
reading short fiction, I feel as

though I’ve fulfilled my thirst
for creative reading in the
least amount of time possible.
The short stories I’ve read are
quick, important and detailed,
and can be found online for
free. And, conveniently, are in
the following list.
1. “At the Birthplace of
Sound” by Akil Kumussary
The author of this short
story, Akil Kumussary, is a
recent
Charles
Pick
South
Asian Fellow in fiction. Her
novel “Half Gods” has gone
on to achieve critical acclaim,
being selected as the Editor’s
Choice for the New York Times
Book Review. She was also
my creative writing professor
last semester. I accidentally
stumbled upon her short story

while doing research for this
notebook.
After
thinking
“That’s
my
professor!”
I
began to read the story. Upon
finishing it, I thought, “Oh my
God … that’s my professor.”
If you’ve never read anything
written in the second person,
I’d suggest starting at this
story. The use of second person
allows the story to come alive
in a way third or first person
wouldn’t allow. Kumussary’s
prose alone is enough to keep
the reader interested. Every
sentence is not only needed but
wanted. She depicts the “not-
so-quite” and “almost enough”
limbo all people go through
in a way that isn’t pitying, but
celebratory of the excitement
in the “in-between” moments
of life.
2. “A Trip” by Claudia Ulloa
Donoso (Translated by Lily
Meyer)
Akil assigned this story as
required reading in her class.
In this piece of flash fiction
not reaching over 1,000 words,
the main character goes on a
vacation in the stomach of her
cat. The story is unexpected,
hilarious
and
would
pair
perfectly well with a cup of
morning coffee.
3. “Marzipan” by Aimee
Bender
I
discovered
Aimee
Bender
last
semester,
and
she has easily become one
of my favorite authors. Her
collection
of
short
stories
titled “Girl in the Flammable
Skirt” should be on everyone’s
to-read list. “Marzipan” was
one of the stories in this book
that particularly stood out to
me. All of the stories in this
collection are told through the
perspective of a woman. They
all possess a certain type of
fantastical flare. “Marzipan”
focuses on how it feels to lose
a parent. The story starts off
with a woman being concerned
over the fact that her husband’s
stomach has taken on the shape
of a donut — with a gaping hole
in the middle, coincidentally
happening after the passing of
her father-in-law. The woman
then becomes concerned with
her own stomach, as she is
impregnated at age 50. The
story takes a gruesome turn
for the best, but you’ll have to
read it to find out more. It is a
whacky and creative metaphor
for loss and grief. Bender trusts
the minds of her readers are
as wild and interesting as her
own.
3. “The Coast of Leitrim” by
Kevin Barry

After
reading
this
short
story in The New Yorker this
October, I understood love a
little better than I had before.

You meet the main character
alone
in
his
dead
uncle’s
cottage. An infatuation (or is it
love?) with a barista takes away
his loneliness for a bit. Was
that all this barista did for him,
though? Check out this short
story to uncover more about
this character and his lonely
and realistic journey through
love.
4.
“Puppy”
by
George
Saunders
Who would I be if I didn’t
include a George Saunders
story in my list of recommended
short
fiction?
Saunders
is
acutely aware of the terrible
things humans do, and he’s also
aware of the humor that can
be found in it. The short story
“Puppy” was actually the first
piece of fiction I read by him.
The wit and pacing in this story
immediately had me inclined
to read more. Featured in his
book of short stories “The
Tenth of December,” “Puppy”
is a sad and strangely hilarious
recounting of the adoption
of a puppy. This seems like
a
wholesome
activity
but,
naturally, humans find a way to
mess it up.
Diving into any of these
stories will open your eyes to a
world you haven’t experienced
before.
The
authors
are
brilliant.
The
stories
are
emotionally resonant. The time
it takes to read them is short.
Take a break from your day
and enter the world of someone
else’s for a bit. I promise you,
it’ll be worth it.

Short stories for the days
you might be short on time

COMMUNITY CULTURE NOTEBOOK

Over two decades later,
and ‘Buffy’ still slaying

It is possible,
due to its
influence, that
popular culture
is becoming a
more respectable
subject of study

Diving into any of
these stories will
open your eyes to
a perception of the
world you haven’t
experienced
before

Through reading
short fiction, I
feel as though
I’ve fulfilled my
thirst for creative
writing in the
least amount of
time possible

Burns seems to suggest, the
descent of society would look
like this for all genders. But on
second thought, the landscape
Middle Sister walks — and how
her
hyperaware,
rightfully-
paranoid thoughts congeal in
it — becomes painfully real.
Middle
Sister’s
encounters
with Milkman while walking,
her fears of being drugged, the
pernicious comments coming
from third brother-in-law, all
resonate uncomfortably with
the realties meeting women
today.
This daring, critical kick
at that experience of being
a
woman
pays
off.
The
apotheosis of the book’s dark
and applicable portrayals is
perhaps Tablets Girl, a “girl
who was actually a woman,”
that is one of the local outcasts
in Middle Sister’s town due
to her propensity to poison
people. This usually takes place,
most suitably and without
retribution, in bars. People flee
from Tablets Girl, people watch
their drinks when Tablets Girl
is around. It’s not just Burns’s
clear allusion to date-rape
that that is to be appreciated
here, but her spiked humor and
exaggeration also.
This
is
not
to
reduce
“Milkman” down to a forced,
constricted focus on gender-
politics
though.
Burns’s
writing alone is remarkable
(something I refuse to say
passively).
“Milkman”
is

brimming with endlessly long
paragraphs,
lose-your-train-of-
thought stretched sentences and
digressing thoughts from Middle
Sister that render the book
incredibly complex. At first, I
was perturbed by this formal and
royal-esque writing, especially
upon
an
encounter
with
a
paragraph spanning four, almost
five, pages. But as I continued, I
found myself — in an unlikely way
— reading Middle Sister’s voice
in an uninterrupted pattern even
more critical and translucent
than I expected possible. This is
assisted by Burns’s near-perfect
draw of synonyms through the
book, making her writing appear
dependably careful and personal.
I
was
enamored
by
the
characters in “Milkman” and
the abrasive humor that was
tacked onto them. It isn’t often
that I get a full cast of characters
(narrator,
antagonist,
family)
that are so real, so exciting to
encounter.
Most
memorable
are the “wee sisters,” Middle

JOHN DECKER
Daily Arts Writer

Sister’s three younger sisters
who, despite their young ages,
are infatuated with topics such
as French revolutionaries, going
through “Kafka phases” and
eavesdropping every moment
they get. Characters like the
wee sisters offer unexpected
gratification
along
Burns’s
dark timeline of events. The
real
humor
displayed
make
“Milkman”
all
the
more
authentic and pleasurable.
I love “Milkman” because it
is a fruitful attempt to offer me
hints of a human experience I
will never be able to understand,
let alone be familiar with.
Perhaps the most evocative
and vivid account in the vein of
social-rebellion and unwanted-
gaze I have ever encountered,
“Milkman” is a narrative that
has been told repeatedly, even
frequently in the 21st century.
Burns’s
unequivocal
writing
turns this narrative into a
fearsome chant, one well worth
shouting along to.

ALIX CURNOW
Daily Arts Writer

“Milkman”

Anna Burns

Graywolf Press

Dec. 4, 2018

‘Milkman’ investigates the
modern day with ingenuity