The Penguin Book of the Short Story Vols 1 & 2 edited by Philip Hensher

Book review by Mike Sansbury, The Grover Bookshop, Ilkley

In his introduction to these handsomely bound collections the novelist Philip Hensher asks us what exactly makes a short story; does the name imply a certain length? Is breadth of subject matter important? He points out that some works thought of as novels are actually shorter than many so-called short stories, and while the events in a short story tend to happen in a limited space of time, there are exceptions which deal with a span of several years. He also deals with the problem of which authors to include and which to omit – there has been much debate about this since these books came out, but in my view the editor has selected a marvellous range of writers and topics, giving space to many whose work is unfamiliar to most readers.

The stories chosen cover a period of about three hundred years, beginning with Daniel Defoe and coming right up to date with Zadie Smith, with the First World War providing a convenient break between volumes. Across the two books we see many of what would be thought of as “the usual suspects,” from Dickens, Thackeray, Arnold Bennett and Kipling in the earlier volume to Wodehouse, Somerset Maugham and Ali Smith in the second, but among the tales which caught my eye were several from unexpected, or lesser known sources. I have selected two from each volume which particularly intrigued me.

Six Weeks at Heppenheim is not what we would usually expect from Elizabeth Gaskell; the main character is a well-to-do young man, holidaying on the Continent, who succumbs to a terrible fever and becomes heavily involved in the lives and affairs of the innkeeper and servants who attend to him in his illness. The story runs for some thirty pages and is thoroughly engrossing as its gentle tale unfolds. In contrast, John Buchan’s The King of Ypres concerns an impulsive Scottish soldier left behind in the Belgian city as the German army approaches. He takes it upon himself to restore order among the panicking populace, only to face a stern inquisition when his comrades return. Buchan sprinkles the story with Scots dialect and gives a sharply-observed account of the chaos and the ebb and flow of fortunes in that awful conflict while retaining a sense of humour.

My two choices from Volume Two relate more mundane events which take place closer to home. Douglas Dunn is better known as a poet, but his contribution here is a story entitled Bobby’s Room, in which a young boy comes to learn much about himself and his relationship with his parents while languishing in a boarding house. His stay only lasts a matter of weeks, but by the end of it he is a very different person. Perhaps my favourite story, though, is by a much-neglected Yorkshire writer, Marjorie “Malachi” Whitaker, who spent an important period of her life living at Addingham Moorside. Written in 1934, Courage relates the events of one morning, as a young woman, Isabel Allat, starts a new job in a Bradford office. That’s really all there is to it, but the many complex thoughts and emotions which go through her head, the pressures to stay or to advance, come across with crystal clarity. In the space of a few pages, Isabel overcomes fear, nostalgia and confusion before asserting her new-found confidence almost in spite of herself. It is a tiny masterpiece.