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How We Are Hungry- Dave Eggers: A Review

How We Are Hungry- Dave Eggers: A Review

Tuesday September 3, 2019

I had not ever come across Dave Eggers until his collection of short stories, How We Are Hungry, popped up in my goodreads feed. The erratic tones he adopts in his protagonists and varying use of structure and person excite me, especially as I feel I have not exposed my self to enough literature of this kind. Recently, I have completed an Extended Project Qualification in which I explored the constructs of the Romantic Sublime and whether it has managed to transcend genre and, of course, time, and so I used Eggers' collection within this inquiry. Whilst this question has remained at the forefront of my focus for Eggers’ work, I felt it would be a rewarding exercise to give a more personal review on this collection as there were some notable pieces that I enjoyed and would have read for pleasure regardless of my project.

Throughout the stories, however long or short they may be, Eggers’ distinct style shone through and it was this aspect that gave me satisfaction. I always find it rewarding to pinpoint an author's "trademark"; Hardy’s preoccupation with the expectations of women in society and Keats’ ability to amalgamate both joy and melancholy simultaneously in his Odes may be characteristics that personalise their work. Eggers, on the other hand, employs a voice in his characters that almost manages to break the boundaries of the fictional narrative and appear as his own. It is the consistency of rhetorical questions that unsettle readers and this stream of paranoia particularly struck me. I always felt I was asking “why?” or simply “I do not know” ; I was forced to pause and reflect on the story and how I was unconsciously applying it to my own life. One of my favourite stories, ‘The Only Meaning Of the Oil-Wet Water’, emanated this exact feeling so magnificently from start to finish, and I could not help but resonate with the story’s protagonist, Pilar. A defining quote from the story:

“But then why God at all? The oil-wet Water was not God. It was not the least bit spiritual. It was oil-wet water, and it felt perfect when Pilar put her hand into it, and it kissed her palm again and again, would never stop kissing her palm and why wasn’t that enough?” (Page 52)

Eggers’ modesty caused me to initially look at quotes like these objectively, but then, after a while, I began to realise the implicit complexities of the questions he was raising about our society. Why is something never enough? Are we becoming increasingly disconnected from the Divine? Can we ever be truly satisfied?

With any review, there must come criticisms and I must admit that, at times, some stories did completely baffle me. Some of the stories' gimmicky narration often caused me to feel alienated. Whether this was a deliberate intention, I will never know. If anyone could offer some insight into ‘Quiet’ it would be greatly appreciated...

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