Werewolves in Their Youth: Stories,
by Michael Chabon
Michael Chabon’s, Werewolves in Their Youth isn’t a horror or sci-fi, though Chabon is a fan. The collection, published in 1999, features characters who move about in the placid light of
If there is a single notion that runs between these stories, it’s not the dead’s pursuit of the living. This is literary fiction after all, and in each stylized glimpse, Chabon points to the darkness hidden not within the souls of beasts and monsters, but in relationships. Matrimony, divorce, reconciliation, fatherhood, the raising of children, and the fraught episodes in a marriage bed, are the scary scenes at the heart of this collection.
Though it’s tough to choose, my favorite might be “House Hunting.” It’s the story of Daniel Diamond and Christy Kite, a young and seemingly ideal couple who, of course, possess a dark secret: despite being in their early twenties, blessed with health, wealth (via Christy’s parents) and the kind of comfort only a certain conformity can provide—they’re not getting along—that is to say, they’re not getting it on, as the saying goes, despite concerted efforts, and exhaustive counseling. Working with a therapist, the couple hopes to generate a “
Although sex was something they both regarded as perilous, marriage had, by contrast, seemed safe—a safe house in a world of danger; the ultimate haven of two solitary, fearful souls. When you were single, this was what everyone who was already married was always telling you. Daniel himself had said it to his unmarried friends. It was, however, a lie.
As the story opens, their real estate agent, Mr. Hogue, a family friend, is about to show them a house, though one that seems out of their league. The house-hunting expedition of the story exposes the couple’s marital lie, and yet its darkness turns out to have, well, a silver lining. That’s how it goes with this collection: the landscape is familiar—all the better to employ the creepiness of so many dark undersides. And yet, despite the darkness that is unveiled, the characters eventually come to find hope. What’s more, each story mines the characters with thoroughness and style that conducts the reader into a dark and unknown landscape—and by story’s end, we’re an expert on its terrain. That, thanks to Chabon’s careful observances and the signature stamina of his sentences—the result of the stylist’s hand and a willingness to root beneath the beautiful surface of his prose.
Of course, Chabon is well known for this, having won the Pulitzer Prize in 2001 for his novel, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay. And it’s a great novel. But for me, the short story is where the author’s talents grow sharp, a factor of the compression the form demands. When you can describe things as well as Chabon can, it’s great to have the room to stretch out, but Werewolves in Their Youth is about as perfect as a collection can get: a glittering assembly of dark gems, each of which contains its own small flame of brightness.