Orange World: and Other Stories — Existing Between Comfort & Danger
A look at Karen Russel’s Orange World: and Other Stories and its celebration of the small distance enjoyed by the fortunate and lucky away from the near-misses and states of chaos that orbit us all.
I remember listening to a review of Karen Russell’s Swamplandia! on NPR in 2011 as I drove to a coffee shop to work on MFA application writing, and during that review the way Jane Ciabattari talked about both the novel and Russell was nothing short of inspirational. Ciabattari said “Russell is a rare talent” who writes with “vivid wordplay and imaginative energy.”
Image care of Karen Russel’s Website
Pulling into a rare parking space along the street near the shop’s entrance, I told myself that I would read it and the collection of short stories that came before, St. Lucy’s Home for Girls Raised by Wolves, published in 2006.
Spoiler: I have yet to read both Swamplandia! and St. Lucy’s, but it’s probably for the best. Has anyone ever told you that you absolutely need to see a certain movie, and when you do see it, it never lives up to the hype? There was so much ado about Russell during the novel’s release, and she was such a common name during my MFA years that I think I would have glossed over the great writing and interesting, though not dramatic, stories in order to look for something to loathe.
I’m certain that would have been me with Swamplandia! in 2011. That, and the MFA really teaches you to look for criticism instead of finding the good and expanding it (at least my program did), and that writing to entertain people is either pandering and something a sell-out does, or it’s all that matters and giving the audience what they want is the sign of a true artist and this “literary” writing is elitist bullshit.
Nothing, it seemed, could fall between those two extremes.
Orange World was published in 2019 by Knopf, an imprint of Penguin Random House, and I’m coming to it now nearly six years after its publication and nine years after I graduated the MFA. Because time and distance are beautiful things, I was able to begin the collection with less expectations from the early Russell hype and no burdens from the MFA to appear smart at parties by tearing down a good (and extremely successful) author. No expectations, only an open mind. Moisturized. In my lane. Focused.
Reviewing is Reading is Re-Reading – but in This Economy?
As you may expect, reviews for the collection abound and in the usual haunts: The New York Times (of which half these stories were published in – odd move, but pop-off, NYT), NPR again, The Guardian, Vox, and of course in the Kirkus Review who’s quoted on the book’s back cover: “A momentous feat of storytelling in an already illustrious career.”
At Kirkus, they stan Karen Russell like not even Karen Russell stans Karen Russell.
I won’t rehash the entirety of those reviews, nor will I fully review the entire collection, but, man, did these authors even read the whole collection?
A common team of stories are called out amongst the herd: “Orange World”, “The Prospectors”, “The Bad Graft”, and “Bog Girl: A Romance”. Outside these, a few others from the middle see conversation, which is a shame. It feels like they read the first three then jumped to the title story, which is the final story, to hit the highlights. Or, as is more likely the truth, they had read these stories when they were published individually beginning with “Madame Bovary’s Greyhound” in Zoetrope back in 2013, and felt that they probably recalled most of what mattered.
Also, with success like Russell’s, there’s no dearth of reviews and outlines on each of these individually published stories that can help jog a reviewer’s memory, and save time. Half of these stories did win awards, after all, so the need to reread them in order to review the book is very low, though it might have helped if anyone of these reviews wanted to measure how these stories, placed back to back, informed each other. Still, many of the stories are overlooked in these reviews.
Which is unfortunate because I found the middle stories – particularly “The Tornado Auction”, “Black Corfu”, and “Madame Bovary’s Greyhound” (which brought me to tears on my couch) – to be the very best in the book.
And I wasn’t alone in thinking that. “Madame Bovary’s Greyhound” was in Best American Short Stories 2014 (BASS) and Pushcart 2015; “The Tornado Auction” was in Pushcart 2017; and “Black Corfu” was in BASS 2019. The only other story to be reprinted (as far as I could find) was “The Prospectors” in BASS 2016.
Maybe those reviews thought enough had been said about Russell’s blue-ribbon contributions? Or perhaps they were doing their day job, and churning out content at the content farms? We all gotta eat, so who knows the reasons why.
Two Cents Used To Be Worth More
My critique of the collection, as a whole, is small and personal: in its most serious moments, the stories in this collection look away to either progress the immediate action towards an end or they just say nothing and end, cutting away to another scene or the next story in the collection.
In “The Prospectors”, Clara and Aubbie finally have a moment, before dawn when they can escape the ghosts, where they could dig in a bit more on their friendship’s unbalanced dynamic (it’s told in first person, past tense, leaving plenty of room to reflect and interject). Instead, the story hurries into an Indiana Jones-esque escape scene, the two women holding the ghosts at bay until they find an opportunity to sprint for a dramatic escape down a ski lift.
“Bog Girl” gets so very close but, in the end, Cillian, finally turning to give his mother the attention she had missed and feared would be gone forever in this Bildungsroman built for two, is left as unexplained as the Bog Girl in a story not short on exposition, summary, and peering into the minds of its two characters. Cillian has this unspeaking bog girl who he loves and has folded into his life, stepping into the world of maturity, while his mother feels the sting of her baby boy becoming a… less baby of a boy. But in the end, when the bog girl wakes and wants to be an equal part of the romance, the mother tells Cillian to “Take her home…Let her down gently, son!” while he literally grapples with the breakup. In the final sentence, the story ends too soon (or maybe not soon enough) and the resolution just isn’t satisfying. In fact, it’s a little confusing.
And in “Black Corfu”, which is the only story with true danger and life-or-death consequences (yes, yes – “Tornado Auction” has tornadoes, but it’s again told in first person, past tense, so we know the narrator lived through the story to tell it), but all of the beautifully dark intrigue and danger amounts to little more than the punchline of a joke. If the last paragraph and sentence were omitted, there would have been a tighter, more searing end in place. Instead, it lands like a Key & Peele skit (like this zombie skit and this other one). Still, the story is 99.9% amazing and the one with the most at stake - literally life and (un)death - which almost all the rest are lacking.
The Whole World, At A Glance
What the bulk of reviews online don’t dare to say is about how the stories come together to make a book, in the metaphorical sense. They skip over how these stories vibe, and what they contribute to each other when read back to back, in the order they’re placed. There’s certainly plenty to say in that regard - definitely too much to explore here right now - especially since every single one of these stories were published somewhere else before this collection – there aren’t any unpublished works to consider or critique. Classic case of “oops, all bangers.”
Orange World, taken in its entirety, sets itself, as the Times alluded to, between wild and tame; between safety and danger. Or, as the title story explains the distinction, these stories are “where most of us live,” between “Green World, a fantasy realm of soft corners” and the bleak, infant decapitation dangers of Red World (p.236-7). These stories aren’t safe-safe, but they aren’t exactly “women in ICE detention centers, separated from their children, [and] Women in Beijing, afraid to breathe the toxic air” stories, either. That’s why many of these stories have less than life and death at stake; it’s not where the majority of us (Americans? White people? Middle Class People?) live.
These stories are privileged, in a way, and aware of that. Thankful for it, even, while fully acknowledging that there are greater evils out there and people wrestling with them the best they can. In fact, these stories, taken in totality, seem to assert that while, yes, things in the Orange World could be worse, the life lived there is still as difficult for its inhabitants as anything has ever been. For the people of Orange World, this moment, captured in story, is the hardest thing they’ve ever dealt with. It’s not, as my wife says, the Tragedy Olympics. It’s not a competition.
The magical (and sometimes sci-fi) elements only elevate these difficult but often mundane situations well into an interesting space, dressing the everyday in something strange and decadent while subverting what might otherwise be a quotidian story by slanting it into the a world where an ephemeral topic takes shape. In this way, something usually meant only to be felt by a story is concretized - made real in the story world - and able to be directly affected through character action, which makes for a satisfying read.
These stories, then, fall into a space that was impossible for the MFA program I would graduate from in 2016 — stepping blinking into the sun like some cave creature — to comprehend. These stories find a happy medium between entertaining and literary; they distract from your (probably) Orange World life just enough by gesturing at the Red World, gnashing at the fringes of our real world (little pockets of sexism and global warming and racism in each story, to name a few), while leaving enough crunchy nuggets of well-crafted wordplay for someone looking for deeper craft to chew over.
The devil in “Orange World” isn’t the capital “D” Devil (as at least one review actually claimed, name dropping our boy, Satan), but one of many minor creatures that prey on the fears of new mothers (*cough cough* fear-mongering social media trad-wife and anti-vax/raw milk content *cough cough*) who is dealt with in a way more like a raccoon removed through pest control than by faith in the Exorcist.
In “The Tornado Auction”, Robert’s lived a long, wonderful life and, sure, there were mistakes along the way, including the accidental harm an escaped tornado he was rearing did to one of his daughters. When the story kicks up, he’s nearly seventy-four, a widower, and has a second chance at doing what he loves since he’s already lost everything else he’s loved — his wife is dead, and his daughters have all moved away and are happy they did. While they love their father, despite having the same stubborn attitude about saying so out loud, they don’t show up, only reinforcing Robert’s sense he’s doing the right thing, even when it all goes upside-down.
Djali, the greyhound in “Madame Bovary’s Greyhound”, flees Emma’s depression to seek something better for herself and nearly dies because of it. Fortunately, she finds an owner that loves her dearly who nurtures her back from the brink of death, while Emma Bovary, well, her story ends less pleasantly.
(Also, the greyhound named Djali is in the original Bovary work, and is probably named for Esmeralda’s pet goat, Djali, in the original The Hunchback of Notre-Dame book, a pet used as proof to convict Esmeralda as a witch that she is eventually hung for – also not a great ending. Welcome to French lit in the mid 1800s, I guess.)
In short, these stories hold space, so to speak, and acknowledge how small a distance separates the uncomfortable and challenging situations of an Orange World from the catastrophes of the Red World, and at their core they celebrate that distance – they celebrate the everyday heartaches, small love and loss, and privileges of fortune while still acknowledging the suffering and more common sacrifices and displacements of those in the Red World who are the shadowy reflections of these stories’ inhabitants.
Robert is tossed from his truck chasing an escaped tornado, living that moment his daughter had so many years ago. Rae, in “Orange World”, has already lost so many pregnancies before she agreed to her devil for the safe birth of her son, that she feels as if she’s already escaped her worst case scenario, and feeding this devil isn’t much sacrifice. Djali, having fled, nearly died, and found successful partnership, is nearly torn in two emotional halves when she meets Emma once more before deciding not to return to that relationship.
These characters and stories don’t revel in the misfortune of others but, instead, allow a small moment of thankful celebration for themselves, those who are able to enjoy the momentary warmth and comfort, a distance away from true danger, in the Orange World.
Cocktail World
Djali,
A Greyhound
Djali, A Greyhound, is a cross between a Spritz (a traditionally lower-proof cocktail built with apéritifs and sparkling wine/water) and, well, a Greyhound (which is 1pt Vodka or Gin to 3pts Grapefruit Juice – I prefer ruby, but you do you).
I imagined it to be something that Madame Bovary would drink with a lover in one of her more manic states, something she would want to be seen drinking. Djali, the greyhound in the story “Madame Bovary’s Greyhound” and the original book, is an Italian Greyhound, and I let that guide my choice for ingredients.
I leaned into Italy through Italicus (whose Christian name is Italicus Rosolio di Bergamotto), an Italian liqueur that includes Bergamot oranges, chamomile, citrons, and other herbs, all sourced from Italy. I also used prosecco to provide the bubbles. Prosecco comes from a northern province in Italy, and is a controlled designation of origin in the same way Champagne must come from the Champagne region of France – there are no “Proseccos” from other countries (here, you can quote the meme – outside of Italy, it’s just sparkling Mama Mia).
The cocktail also includes Aperol (from Northern Italy) as a sweetener and flavor enhancer, ruby red grapefruit juice (Star Ruby is a variety that grows in Italy), olives for a little salt to uplift the drink (and which pair well with the bitter components inherent in Italicus, Aperol, and Grapefruit), and a little Cognac to add body and flavor — and to nod at Emma Bovary herself, who is French.
Djali, A Greyhound
Non-Alcoholic Substitutes are in parenthesis!
1oz Italicus (Pamos, a CBD spirit, or Seedlip Grove – increase to 1.5oz)
0.5oz Aperol (Ghia or Giffard Aperitif Syrup)
0.5oz Cognac (Omit for NA)
1oz Ruby Grapefruit Juice
¼ tsp Olive Brine
3oz Prosecco, to top (Fre Sparkling)
Garnish: Olives & Grapefruit Half
Add the Italicus, Aperol, Cognac, Brine, and Grapefruit Juice to a shaker with ice and short-shake forcefully for 3-5 seconds, then strain into a coupe.
Top with prosecco and garnish with a grapefruit slice and picked olives.
Joy Regression
“You hear those young clouds rumbling, you get the child-joy, the child-fever. I’ll turn seventy-four this March, and it doesn’t matter: that joy regresses you.”
— “Tornado Auction”
Orange World: and Other Stories
p.115
This cocktail is an embracing of the celebratory nature winding through each story in this collection. In some, the current is stronger, like in “Orange World”, and in others, like “Black Corfu”, it is a thin and subterranean trickle; in “Tornado Auction” it’s the thrill of stepping out of the safety of Green World and into Orange World, right up against the thin line near Red.
Still, the joy of being removed from Red World’s trials and suffering – however short that distance may be – should be celebrated then and whenever you can count yourself free from the harsh, red glow of a world hungry for the happiness you have, however hard-won and short-lived it may be in the antique glow of the Orange World.
As most joyful drinks are wont to do, this cocktail has its roots deeply sunk into the tiki aesthetic. A blend of three rums, Crème de Cacao, Apricot Liqueur, a potion of citrus (including orange), and a syrup made from nearly burnt sugar, this cocktail is a potent celebration fit for a ski lodge, in a gondola, or as a toast for a tornado well-reared and ready to join the storm.
Joy Regression
Non-Alcoholic Substitutes are in parenthesis!
1oz Spiced Rum* (replace all rums with 3oz of strong-brewed Chai tea)
1oz Aged Rum, such as Planteray 5yr
0.5oz Overproof Rum, such as Planteray OFTD or Smith & Cross
0.5oz Light Crème de Cacao (0.25oz Fee Brothers Aztec Chocolate Bitters)
0.25oz Apricot Liqueur (1oz Apricot Juice)
0.5oz Lime Juice
1oz Lemon Juice
1oz Orange Juice
1oz Caramelized Sugar Syrup**
3 dashes Angostura Bitters (substitute Fee Brothers Aromatic Bitters)
Garnish: Mint Sprigs and Candied Orange Wheel***
Add all ingredients to a shaker with ice and shake for 15-20 seconds.
Fill a snifter with pebble ice almost to the top.
Pour the cocktail into the glass, add a straw and the mint sprigs directly beside it.
Pack tightly with more pebble ice, and garnish with the candied orange wheel.
*Spiced Rum:
You can use your favorite or make your own!
In a sealable jar combine: 12oz Aged Rum, 1oz Golden Raisins, half a Vanilla Bean (scraped), 3 whole cloves, one 3” cinnamon stick (broken), 3 crushed cardamom pods, and 1tsp allspice berries. Allow to infuse for 48 hours, shaking every 8 hours or so, then strain.
**Caramelized Sugar Syrup:
Add 1/2c white sugar into a pan and heat over medium/medium-high heat, stirring periodically until the sugar begins to melt and darken. Once it reaches a rich, liquid amber color, remove from heat and pour onto a latex baking sheet (or sheet of aluminum foil) and allow to cool until hardened.
Place hardened pool of sugar into a Ziplock bag, shatter into pieces using the back of a heavy spoon.
Return burnt sugar pieces and dust to a pot with 1/4c water and heat over medium-high heat, stirring until incorporated.
***Candied Orange Wheels:
Slice 1 navel orange into thin rounds (about 1/4” thick - refrigerate over night and slice with a mandoline for best results).
Combine 200g (1c) of white sugar with 400g (2c) water in a medium-depth pan. Heat on Medium to incorporate - don’t boil!
Add orange slices and increase heat until the syrup just begins to bubble then reduce heat to a simmer, Medium or Medium/Medium-Low.
Simmer for 20-40 minutes, flipping orange wheels every 10 minutes or so to cover and cook consistently. Syrup will darken as sugar cooks and water evaporates; you can continue to simmer oranges until syrup has well thickened and fully caramelized (and can be used for the sugar syrup above).
Place orange wheels on a wire rack over parchment or foil to drip and cool. Allow to cool for a few hours, or over night. Oranges may be tacky to the touch and you can lightly coat with castor sugar or powdered sugar to add more appeal and cover texture, though you will lose some of the definition of the fruit.
Store in an airtight container with parchment separating wheels until needed. Wheels are fully edible, rind and all!