Laura Van den Berg’s newest book, The Isle of Youth, is a collection of seven short stories that threads the lives of ordinary people into a thought-provoking analysis of women who are struggling through the wake of damage left by men in their lives.
Each story is different, but they are stitched together in a way that streamlines all of them into one compelling read.
The Isle of Youth boasts heroines that are aching with marital issues, family problems, self-loathing, and fear; but despite this commonality, the various settings and distinct plots keep the material fresh and vibrant.
One gets swept away in the scenery as Van den Berg pens the world around each character. In “I Looked for You, I Called Your Name”, the reader becomes entranced by Van den Berg’s description of Iguazu Falls:
“Water poured over two massive cliffs and pooled in a huge expanse speckled with mossy rocks, as though a lush island had been overtaken by flood.”
She takes readers from the tundra of Antarctica to the balmy afternoons in Hollywood, Florida with ease and uses the scenery to amplify the agony of her characters.
Van den Berg’s diction shows how simplicity can bear raw, brunt emotion. She describes how, “A million different languages buzzed around me like radio static,” (Acrobat) and “Sylvia stood on the sidewalk, beneath a street lamp. The light fell on her in a perfect yellow dome,” (The Isle of Youth). In stories where the psychological impact weighs heavily, simplicity is key.
The characters ooze with ethos that pairs well with their respective personality flaws. Van den Berg successfully pushes each character to their limits as each heroine struggles through both mental and physical conflicts.
The collection’s namesake, “The Isle of Youth”, is the hallmark of the collection. The reader watches Sylvia Collins’ identical twin attempt to fill a painful depth in her life by literally becoming her sister:
“We went over everything in the envelope, spreading lists of names and work schedules and addresses across the kitchen counter. She had even gotten a fake lip ring for me.”
It’s an incredible storyline. As the narrator, Sylvia Collin’s twin, who remains unnamed through the story, arrives in Miami with the expectation that she would be coming to her sister’s rescue. The tables turn as she realises the depth of her own damaged relationship with her husband and sister. The unnamed twin/narrator uses the mask Sylvia’s identity affords her, to step outside the confines of who she thought she was and recognize that a mask fails to heal the inner schism it covers.
It might be argued that Van den Berg’s collection comes across as a feminist rant against men, but this claim is completely mistaken. People, regardless of gender, are damaged and the cause of pain is widespread. Placing seven heroines in seven different scenarios with male antagonists was necessary for the collection to pack punch and display a sense of uniformity.
Van den Berg recognizes the circularity of damage and identifies that those who consider themselves broken beyond repair place blame on someone from their past. She keenly observes that each character traces their initial damaged state back to a single person. She conjures a cyclical nature of pain and damage as each character must wade through memories and face men from their past and present in order to begin the healing process.
Van den Berg’s unique approach has created an overwhelming success by conjuring a collection that is simple yet riveting and deeply provoking.
–Collier McLeod
Short Story Ireland 