An essay by Sahib Al-shemeri

For Prof. Sarah Gilbert’s course entitled Introduction to College English

                The short story, an art form often misunderstood for being appropriate only for the pages of magazines, needs blockbuster successes to cement its place as a respectable literary form. That is why the Journey Prize should champion the stories that best embody the virtues of a good short story. The best stories hint at the subtle changes in a character’s understanding of their world. They resist classical endings and instead build a larger universe into the short story which the reader can find if he desires a greater complexity. This allows for reflection on the poetry of the author’s writing. “Crisis on Earth-X” by Alex Pugsley should win the Journey Prize because it is a candid portrayal of discovering loneliness in the midst of a family crisis. Set in nineteen-seventies Halifax, a family crisis puts Aubrey’s views of his Uncle Lorne into perspective. The short story is narrated entirely from Aubrey’s point of view, guiding the reader through a short period of his childhood, pointing to the small but subtle changes in his character.

                Since the story is narrated entirely from Aubrey’s point of view, it allows readers to examine how his admiration for his uncle evolves over time. Earlier on in the story, Uncle Lorne is described in a more positive light; “Uncle Lorne was a singular, decidedly non-feminine addition to our house. He arrives with hobbies fully formed, with habits and rules and secret disciplines.” (Pugsley 142)  Uncle Lorne is everything that matters to a ten-year-old boy. He builds models and collects comics, and what else could have been more important to Aubrey at such a young age? Growing up in a strange and confusing childhood with an emotionally detached mother, displeased burnt-out father, a hostile older sister, and draft-dodging, carefree hippies as neighbours, it is easy to see why the strange intelligence of Uncle Lorne would be appealing to a young boy with hopes of Olympic glory. However, his intelligence becomes less and less apparent as Uncle Lorne is later revealed to be more fragile than any true masculine figure ought to be. Lorne is described by his sister as having a “mind [that] certainly works weird (…) he’s not exactly always here, you know” (156). From Bonnie’s point of view, a girl who did not hold back judgment, “he was already beyond the point of no return” (156). The ultimate truth of the matter is laid to rest when Aubrey reveals his final thoughts on his uncle.  “It was only when this birthday film was transferred to video twenty years later that I saw with adult eyes, when he withdrew into the shadows, just how shy, how recessive, how Asperger’s-y, how nervous eighteen-year old Uncle Lorne really was” (172). It is this observation made by Aubrey that ends up being the final summation of Uncle Lorne’s true character.

                The importance of Uncle Lorne cannot be overlooked in his relation to Aubrey’s character development. While Aubrey’s immediate family certainly affects him, characters such as his oldest sister Bonnie become more of an antagonistic character in contrast to his friend and mentor Uncle Lorne. Aubrey, in many ways, is in competition with his eldest sister throughout the story. Whether fighting over television time or running to the corner story for a can of Fresca, Aubrey seeks to meet the stature of his older sister, although he never gains her respect. This is made clear in the scene where Bonnie fails to see the importance of Lorne’s comic collection, although Aubrey attempts to explain it to her. “I feel sorry for you (…) You’re just like him – weird. You’re going to be be just like him – weird and alone with no friends and pathetic, loser” (174).

                There is nothing as discouraging, emasculating and soul-crushing for a young teenage boy as his oldest sister discounting his entire character and seeing no hopes in his future prospects. This moment of pain gives more importance to the advice left by Uncle Lorne, “run your own race Grub. Run your own race” (147). It is not until late that evening, after his sister’s comments, that Uncle Lorne’s message finally hits home: “for some minutes my mind had been empty of self-awareness and turning the corner on Summer Street I eased into a single-pointed, euphoric state where I was, finally and simply and transcendently, running my own race” (175). This is the moment where Aubrey’s character develops the most. He discovers his solitude for the first time and understands that even though he will not be winning anyone else’s race, the game is still worth playing for is own benefit. Perhaps the fundamental loneliness he will endure most of his life should not be thought of as sad, but rather as achieving his own personal peace, his own moments of Zen.

                While the reader can never know for certain what will become of Aubrey, which is part of the beauty of reading short stories. There is no true ending, because they are just snippets of a bigger timeline. With that in mind, it may be interesting to examine elements of foreshadowing in an effort to find some overarching narratives that can guide the reader’s imagination on what could have continued after the ink stops. That is what can be enjoyable about short stories; they can grow bigger in the mind of the reader.  The first example of foreshadowing, unsurprisingly, has much to do with Aubrey’s solitude, demonstrated by the scene of him as a 10-year old boy, alone in his bed at night, listening to his parents argue, wanting nothing more than to ignore “the doings of the adult world – a parallel universe (…) best to disregard” (165).

                Aubrey’s tendency to seek personal escape from the torment of possible confrontation with others foreshadows the final scene in the short story where he lies on a bare mattress in an empty house, knowing that he has never been more alone. Aubrey does parallel his Uncle Lorne in this regard, as they are both undoubtedly loners. Lorne sadly spends his youth moving from family crisis to family crisis, and this fact is not lost on Aubrey: “it falls apart with Nanny and Dompa and he gets fobbed off on us. It falls apart with Mom and Dad and what’s he going to do? Live with Aunt Kate? The poor bastard” (173). When Lorne eventually riding out of town on a motorcycle, It is apparent that running away seems to be a constant coping mechanism found in both Aubrey and his uncle. Perhaps these examples of foreshadowing can give us a clue into their futures. They are both damaged from the crises they have endured.

                 “Crisis on Earth-X” deserves to win the Journey Prize. It strikes the balance of being short and unresolved while still allowing for the character growth, symbolism and conflict that a good story needs. It’s also accessible. Pugsley writes truthfully on the issue of loneliness in a very honest and refreshing way that does not view it as unhealthy but instead views it with compassion.  On a personal note, I related to this story because I could see a little of myself in Aubrey. This was made even more surprising to me because at the same time I found him to be quite sad and pathetic, someone that I wouldn’t want to be. It takes a good writer to make us root for the character we pity the most.

 

 Work Cited

 Pugsley, Alex. “Crisis on Earth X.” The Journey Prize Stories 24. Ed. Michael Christie, Kathryn Kuitenbrouwer, Kathleen Winter. Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 2012. 142-177. Print.