Thoughts On ... Lee Smith's Mrs. Darcy and the Blue-Eyed Stranger

Some books, you don't feel under your skin until you read them slowly. Lee Smith's short stories wait on you, until you have reached the right shuffle, speaking in tones of the White American South, but mostly in the tone that rises "above it all," like a well-kept bouffant. There are hardly any villains in the dramas that unfold, but regret gives sting to gentle stories like "Folk Art" and "Between the Lines."  I particularly enjoyed how the entire story in "Folk Art" turned upon one sentence, blurring the narrator's perception of the uncertain present, and the past that could have been. Truly wonderful.

Pedestrian occurrences like a holiday house tour lends itself to the surreal in "House Tour." Having recently attended a holiday house tour, I commend the author for seizing upon the potential for hilarity and surreal experiences during such a tour. There is nothing like walking among another person's things and admiring her everyday goods like it's a normal thing to do.

Some stories, like "Tongues of Fire" and the titular "Mrs. Darcy and the Blue-Eyed Stranger," reveal an uncertain connection between physical pain and spiritual revelation, one that seems less glamorous and self-congratulatory than martyrdom, in part because the narrators appear to be innocent of the consequences of that pain. Like a good improv, the stories go where I did not expect them to go, and everything turned out in the end. I feel as if I know the characters that flash in and out of the short stories, just as I know that it is not up to the reader or the narrator to "save" any of these characters from their own clearly-defined flaws.

From a technical standpoint, Lee's style reflects a great understanding of places by the feelings that they evoke. Sometimes a place, such as the beach, can be conjured best through images of physical movement and stillness, rather than a mere description of the beach.

As one might guess from the title, this collection of stories pays subtle homage to Austen's satire. The prose does not sparkle, but it has its own shine and gentility. No one is spared. Despite emphasis on purity at the center of each cameo, race and class remain at the edges. While some of the characters, particularly the men (who can be dark and handsome) are of indefinite coloring, the women take fairness for granted, and so does the Reader, up to a point. The terms "Negro", "little Chinese girls," etc. appear like the outer bounds of the picket fence. The narrators are different or special in some way that makes for a challenge. Some overcome, some accept, and some are left to make up their minds about the expectations others have set for them.

All in all, the book reflects a kind and big-hearted view of human foibles, without too many cumbersome words thrown in.