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