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Bobcat and Other Stories
Rebecca Lee, one of our most gifted and original short story writers, guides readers into a range of landscapes, both foreign and domestic, crafting stories as rich as novels. A student plagiarizes a paper and holds fast to her alibi until she finds herself complicit in the resurrection of one professor's shadowy past. A dinner party becomes the occasion for the dissolution of more than one marriage. A woman is hired to find a wife for the one true soulmate she's ever found. In all, Rebecca Lee traverses the terrain of infidelity, obligation, sacrifice, jealousy, and yet finally, optimism. Showing people at their most vulnerable, Lee creates characters so wonderfully flawed, so driven by their desire, so compelled to make sense of their human condition, that it's impossible not to feel for them when their fragile belief in romantic love, domestic bliss, or academic seclusion fails to provide them with the sort of force field they'd expected.
209 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2010
About the author
Rebecca Lee
3 books93 followersLibrarian's note: Mutiple authors with same name, this author is entered with 4 spaces.
Rebecca Lee is the author of the critically acclaimed novel The City Is a Rising Tide and the short story collection Bobcat and Other Stories. She has been published in The Atlantic and Zoetrope, and in 2001 she received a National Magazine Award for her short fiction. Originally from Saskatchewan, Lee is a graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop and is now a professor of creative writing at the University of North Carolina at Wilmington.
Rebecca Lee is the author of the critically acclaimed novel The City Is a Rising Tide and the short story collection Bobcat and Other Stories. She has been published in The Atlantic and Zoetrope, and in 2001 she received a National Magazine Award for her short fiction. Originally from Saskatchewan, Lee is a graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop and is now a professor of creative writing at the University of North Carolina at Wilmington.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 687 reviews
August 18, 2018
oh, canada! you have created another great author in your great-author factory!
i loved this collection so much, i read it twice. actually, i had to read it twice because the netgalley nook-version was full of flaws, so i felt i had to read it on the computer to make sure i hadn't missed anything, and i hate reading on the computer, so that alone should give you a sense of my affection for this.
there are only seven stories, so they are kind of on the long side, but that works out well here, as she is given the space to really develop her ideas and characters.
there is something classic-feeling to this collection. she isn't one of those whizz-bang authors who relies on stylistic flourishes to get the reader's attention. she is more like a rainbow, just hanging out in the corner of the sky. "what, who, me?? yeah, i know i am lovely, whatever."
there is one writerly tic that she has, and i am using that word without any of its negative connotations, but in a couple of stories she will just quietly run ahead of the words on the page and give a little preview of what is to come for the characters. but quietly, usually in a sentence or two, buried in a paragraph of present tense. and it is simple and subtle and very nicely done.
there isn't a theme to this collection, although many stories involve dinner parties, infidelity, cultural clashes, academia, impossible relationships, language and the secrets it can hide. the stories complement each other, without feeling redundant.
it is difficult to play favorites, but i think i like the first and the last story the best. the first story just because it has so many killer lines in it:
People were soon going to be out in the streets and on the subway, making their way to our apartment. They wouldn’t want to picture their hostess like this — emotional, insecure, lashing out at her husband. You want the hostess to be serene, the apartment a set of glowing rooms awaiting you, quiet music pouring out of its walls, the food making its way through various complex stages in the kitchen — the slow broiling fig sauce, the buns in the warming oven, the pudding forming its subtle skin in the chill of the refrigerator.
and later:
Every dinner party by the end is a bit of a defeat. After the halfway mark, when everybody is still in high-spirits, some even intoxicated, and the dessert still hasn’t arrived, there is a moment when it seems like we are the most interesting dinner party in Manhattan tonight, we love each other, and we should do this all the time, why don’t we do this all the time? Everybody is calculating when they can invite everybody to their house for the next dinner party. But then there is the subtle shift downward. Somebody is a little too drunk. The bird, which was a bronze talismanic centerpiece, golden and thriving, is revealed as a collection of crazy bones. A single line from the archeologist Ernest Becker often tore through my mind at the end of long meals, that every man stands over a pile of mangled bones and declares life good.
but the story itself is fantastic as it tiptoes through the landmines of marriage and relationships and great unsaid truths, while side-telling stories about what the human body and spirit can endure and whether it is better to respect traditions or to evolve with the rest of the world, and all of these pieces somehow come together in a final and quietly devastating conclusion.
greg will not like that a character mentions having been served fox meat at a dinner party, and dana will flinch at the amputee*, but the rest of you should be okay with it.
the last story is also spectacular, and involves a series of dinner parties that align with larger world events of recent years such as the starr report and hurricane katrina and bounces the characters forward in time to show the progression of several different types of relationships. again, very quiet, very sparkling, and very very enjoyable.
i know i singled those two stories out as "favorites" but i think that was just because it is tidy to first-and-last it, and my brain thought it was true. but then i remember slatland with its wonderful willful blindness and passive suspicion and the banks of the vistula with its ... well, that one is too complicated to get into in only a couple of sentences, and it's something that needs to be read for oneself, and DO YOU NOT SEE HOW EXCELLENT THAT COVER IS?? so go read it. get outta here.
* she will also not like the second story. sorry, dana, this one isn't for you. but you don't like short stories anyway, so it matters not one bit.
come to my blog!
i loved this collection so much, i read it twice. actually, i had to read it twice because the netgalley nook-version was full of flaws, so i felt i had to read it on the computer to make sure i hadn't missed anything, and i hate reading on the computer, so that alone should give you a sense of my affection for this.
there are only seven stories, so they are kind of on the long side, but that works out well here, as she is given the space to really develop her ideas and characters.
there is something classic-feeling to this collection. she isn't one of those whizz-bang authors who relies on stylistic flourishes to get the reader's attention. she is more like a rainbow, just hanging out in the corner of the sky. "what, who, me?? yeah, i know i am lovely, whatever."
there is one writerly tic that she has, and i am using that word without any of its negative connotations, but in a couple of stories she will just quietly run ahead of the words on the page and give a little preview of what is to come for the characters. but quietly, usually in a sentence or two, buried in a paragraph of present tense. and it is simple and subtle and very nicely done.
there isn't a theme to this collection, although many stories involve dinner parties, infidelity, cultural clashes, academia, impossible relationships, language and the secrets it can hide. the stories complement each other, without feeling redundant.
it is difficult to play favorites, but i think i like the first and the last story the best. the first story just because it has so many killer lines in it:
People were soon going to be out in the streets and on the subway, making their way to our apartment. They wouldn’t want to picture their hostess like this — emotional, insecure, lashing out at her husband. You want the hostess to be serene, the apartment a set of glowing rooms awaiting you, quiet music pouring out of its walls, the food making its way through various complex stages in the kitchen — the slow broiling fig sauce, the buns in the warming oven, the pudding forming its subtle skin in the chill of the refrigerator.
and later:
Every dinner party by the end is a bit of a defeat. After the halfway mark, when everybody is still in high-spirits, some even intoxicated, and the dessert still hasn’t arrived, there is a moment when it seems like we are the most interesting dinner party in Manhattan tonight, we love each other, and we should do this all the time, why don’t we do this all the time? Everybody is calculating when they can invite everybody to their house for the next dinner party. But then there is the subtle shift downward. Somebody is a little too drunk. The bird, which was a bronze talismanic centerpiece, golden and thriving, is revealed as a collection of crazy bones. A single line from the archeologist Ernest Becker often tore through my mind at the end of long meals, that every man stands over a pile of mangled bones and declares life good.
but the story itself is fantastic as it tiptoes through the landmines of marriage and relationships and great unsaid truths, while side-telling stories about what the human body and spirit can endure and whether it is better to respect traditions or to evolve with the rest of the world, and all of these pieces somehow come together in a final and quietly devastating conclusion.
greg will not like that a character mentions having been served fox meat at a dinner party, and dana will flinch at the amputee*, but the rest of you should be okay with it.
the last story is also spectacular, and involves a series of dinner parties that align with larger world events of recent years such as the starr report and hurricane katrina and bounces the characters forward in time to show the progression of several different types of relationships. again, very quiet, very sparkling, and very very enjoyable.
i know i singled those two stories out as "favorites" but i think that was just because it is tidy to first-and-last it, and my brain thought it was true. but then i remember slatland with its wonderful willful blindness and passive suspicion and the banks of the vistula with its ... well, that one is too complicated to get into in only a couple of sentences, and it's something that needs to be read for oneself, and DO YOU NOT SEE HOW EXCELLENT THAT COVER IS?? so go read it. get outta here.
* she will also not like the second story. sorry, dana, this one isn't for you. but you don't like short stories anyway, so it matters not one bit.
come to my blog!
April 23, 2014
I liked this book so much it pissed me off. Rebecca Lee is a fantastic writer, her talent seeping through these pages like grease through a bag of Chinese takeout. Her stories are perfectly paced, perfectly structured. Every story pulls you into it quickly, effortlessly, strongly. Descriptors are succinct yet commanding, characters pop with dimension, internal dialogue is authentically human—she nails it all. Long story short, this book is a grand slam.
Except it still pissed me off. This is the thing about short stories, especially ones as well-written as this. You get to the end and you’re all, “Fuck NO!! I can’t believe it ends here!” Grossly unsatisfying. You want more, you need more. There’s so much potential in these stories, in these characters, and all you get are teases—perfectly constructed teases, but still teases nonetheless.
Rebecca Lee why you gotta be such a tease?
Except it still pissed me off. This is the thing about short stories, especially ones as well-written as this. You get to the end and you’re all, “Fuck NO!! I can’t believe it ends here!” Grossly unsatisfying. You want more, you need more. There’s so much potential in these stories, in these characters, and all you get are teases—perfectly constructed teases, but still teases nonetheless.
Rebecca Lee why you gotta be such a tease?
September 9, 2016
4 and 1/2 stars
These are beautifully written stories with striking metaphors and lovely epiphanies that caused me to page back and reread passages. The elegance of the writing brought to mind Silk by Grace Dane Mazur. Lee's narrators look out windows to see beyond what is being framed, and that is what the author does for the reader. In the final story, "Settlers," with the first mention of Hurricane Katrina, I (as a New Orleanian) felt wary, but my trepidation was calmed by the ending, which reflects back emotionally to the beginning of the story and also to the first story, "Bobcat."
Repetitions occur across a couple of stories -- characters with facial tics and narrators who dream a whole relationship with the person they are looking at in a matter of seconds -- but to be completely fair, each repetition is somewhat different from the other and all are wonderfully done. Every story is from a first-person POV, and only one narrator is male. I couldn't help wondering what Lee, as good as a writer as she is, might do with third-person as well.
(There are some typos -- for example, "stream" when what is meant is "steam" -- that I hope the press will correct for any future editions.)
These are beautifully written stories with striking metaphors and lovely epiphanies that caused me to page back and reread passages. The elegance of the writing brought to mind Silk by Grace Dane Mazur. Lee's narrators look out windows to see beyond what is being framed, and that is what the author does for the reader. In the final story, "Settlers," with the first mention of Hurricane Katrina, I (as a New Orleanian) felt wary, but my trepidation was calmed by the ending, which reflects back emotionally to the beginning of the story and also to the first story, "Bobcat."
Repetitions occur across a couple of stories -- characters with facial tics and narrators who dream a whole relationship with the person they are looking at in a matter of seconds -- but to be completely fair, each repetition is somewhat different from the other and all are wonderfully done. Every story is from a first-person POV, and only one narrator is male. I couldn't help wondering what Lee, as good as a writer as she is, might do with third-person as well.
(There are some typos -- for example, "stream" when what is meant is "steam" -- that I hope the press will correct for any future editions.)
August 15, 2013
Excellent collection of short stories told from the first person point of view, many taking place on mid-west college campuses. Relationships are key. My person favorites are the title story and the final, "Settlers", both of which are somewhat domestic but by no means ordinary, Lee has a way with language.
A couple of the stories, while clever and interesting, also bothered me on some level I find difficult to define. These were "Slatland"and "Fialta". The word which continues to run through my mind is brittle---is that my reaction to the style, the characters or both? I'm not sure and I can't define it more than that right now. Perhaps at some point I'll give this another reading to check my reaction again.
3.5 to 4
A couple of the stories, while clever and interesting, also bothered me on some level I find difficult to define. These were "Slatland"and "Fialta". The word which continues to run through my mind is brittle---is that my reaction to the style, the characters or both? I'm not sure and I can't define it more than that right now. Perhaps at some point I'll give this another reading to check my reaction again.
3.5 to 4
July 9, 2013
This collection was a stunning discovery included in a recent Powell's Indiespensable installment and I am so happy I decided to give it a try, not being particularly attracted to this genre.
I read most of these incredibly elegant and heartbreaking short stories on a plane and only looked outside my window once to take a picture of the most extraordinary cloud formations I had ever seen from the air.
When reading George Saunders' "Tenth of December", I have to admit that I often felt as if I was flying high above the stories, watching them from above, slightly removed from their world. I read from a distance.
With Rebecca Lee, every single story pulled me in from the first lines like the best novels do and I inhabited their world fully, completely engrossed in the characters and the situations. Her intelligence is sizzling and her powers of observation endless.
I absolutely loved this book.
October 27, 2021
Rebecca Lee's collection of seven short stories is gorgeously written, and emotionally insightful with touches of humor. Relationships between spouses, lovers, friends, students, and teachers are explored using first-person narrators. The endings to each story are a little open-ended, answering some questions, but always leaving something for the reader to reflect upon.
March 20, 2013
The six stories in Bobcat are well written with careful, elegant prose that was, at times, so perfect it surprised me. The dialogue is snappy, authentic, and witty, and the story lines and structure are complex enough to be interesting on a distant, intellectual level. I read a few of these twice, and though I never felt an immediate emotional response or a lingering sense of poignancy, I did very much admire the author's attention to detail. You can tell a lot of work went into crafting these stories.
I wish, however, that she had varied her narrative style and tone from story to story. Five of the six stories in Bobcat are told in the first person POV by female narrators, and the sixth story, (and incidentally, the last one) is told in the first person POV by a male narrator. The voice is so similar from story to story, it read like the same character, which I interpreted (probably incorrectly) as a character-version of the author. I've read other story collections told largely in the first person, and I've had the same complaint, so maybe it's a matter of personal preference. I think it wouldn't be an issue if these were read as they're meant to be read: singularly with time for reflection rather than back-to-back as I seem to do.
I wish, however, that she had varied her narrative style and tone from story to story. Five of the six stories in Bobcat are told in the first person POV by female narrators, and the sixth story, (and incidentally, the last one) is told in the first person POV by a male narrator. The voice is so similar from story to story, it read like the same character, which I interpreted (probably incorrectly) as a character-version of the author. I've read other story collections told largely in the first person, and I've had the same complaint, so maybe it's a matter of personal preference. I think it wouldn't be an issue if these were read as they're meant to be read: singularly with time for reflection rather than back-to-back as I seem to do.
December 27, 2023
i was on occasion impressed with some of rebecca lee's prose, as well as by a few of her sentiments, but overall was left underwhelmed and frustrated. these stories seem too constrained, as if any unmitigated emotion or flourish had long been burnished away by one workshop too many.
you can feel it as you sketch plans, the drag in the hand, the worry, the tower of babel anxiety as the building grows too high. there ought not to be too much hubris in a plan. but this is not a simple directive either, since a plan also needs to be soaring and eccentric and confident. but still humble. a perfect architect might be like a perfect person, the soul so correctly aligned that it can ascend with humility. humble and dashing, those two things, always and forever.
September 29, 2017
There are books that we read and, while we are reading them, we catch ourselves wondering if it is worth continuing, but we push on through because we occasionally catch a glimpse of something that pulls you along and teases you with a bit of hope. That was my experience with Bobcat and Other Stories, a short collection of short stories by Rebecca Lee. Years ago, when it was released, it was hailed by many as a bright and shining example of the talent Canada produces. It has largely been set aside since then, though it would be extreme to say it has been forgotten - every now and then you see the collection pop up in a new edition or on some list of the best short story collections of the past decade, or something of that sort. What caught me was the comparison it received, from at least one reviewer, to the works of Munro (one of my favourite living writers) and Chekhov (one of my favourite dead writers).
So I picked it up the other day and started reading the first story, Bobcat. And I read through it quite quickly. Surprisingly quickly. It was decent enough. Nothing particularly brave, but it had a few screws that turned in a nice direction, even if they didn’t end up getting deep enough into the wood to actually construct a story. So I leapt into the next story. I found myself with a similar feeling. And then the next. And then the next. I should have been suspect when, in one day, I read through five of the collection’s six stories, more than 160 pages, and put the book down to go to sleep with more desire to finish the book than to really examine whether or not the stories were any good.
And maybe two of them were good, the first and the last, with the 4 in between being slightly worse, but not in and of themselves bad. In each story, told from a first person perspective in a voice that sounded similar, with other characters that felt similar, with scenarios that felt a bit too similar, with a few metaphors (or were they symbols?) that were repeated a few times, in each story there was a promise of something that could have been good or maybe even very good, and then, in each story, before the ending arrived, and just as the ending was arriving, everything seemed to fizzle out. No great insight or importance was shared. Nothing was really acquired. I didn’t learn much, and nothing felt revelatory - which is to say that nothing was necessary. Why did I read this?
After finishing the fifth story the other night and before picking up and finishing the sixth story today I read through the short biographical blurb about Rebecca Lee at the back and discovered that she is a graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. I don’t know if that is a good thing or a bad thing, but for some reason I think it is a thing that shouldn’t necessarily be included in your writing bio. I also think that it is a fact of her life that is obvious in her writing; writing that, at times, gets to be too damned writerly about small details that one suspects only writers who spend their days composing sentences in their mind while walking the dog notice, all the while trying to come up with the most original way to describe something that is almost entirely ordinary. And I would say that a surprising amount of space, a lot of words, are devoted to those ordinary things that she wants use to believe are filled with importance. Maybe they are. Sometimes in the hands of an exceptional writer they are. Here I wasn’t convinced. And, going back to the Iowa Writers’ Workshop - which has a particular history of teaching mediocre writers good writing tips which they don’t then turn into good writing - most of the time the stories felt like assignments, something that filled a particular goal for a particular teacher and which didn’t in fact enhance art.
That isn’t to say that the writing here is a complete failure. There are sentences and descriptions of ordinary things that are quite lovely, that are quite impressive, special, and in the struggle of making true art, of becoming a writer whose descriptions, like those of Steinbeck or Golding or Lessing or Achebe or Woolf, are truly revelatory, you need to write a lot of bad ones. You need to find your groove, as it were. Hell, I’m trying to find my groove, as it were. But here, all too often the descriptions are just a fancy effort to sound like a good writer rather than actually be a good writer. Does that make sense? Do you understand what I’m saying? I don’t know, if I were Rebecca Lee, or if I were her editor, I would have called upon these six stories as her first ones to publish in a collection.
The problem, of course, is because of Munro, that great matriarch of Canadian literature, the one that lords over our landscape. I hold all short stories up to her standard, which isn’t ultimately fair, but is the only standard the literature should be held up to - that of pure, clean, wonderful excellence. If I hadn’t taken the time, while cycling home from the cafe where I finished the collection this afternoon, to unload it from my backpack and load it into one of the free front yard libraries that dot my neighbourhood, it would be interesting to sit back with the best of these - perhaps Bobcat, perhaps Fialta - and with the best of Munro - damned near anything from any of her collections, but for a more fair comparison let’s choose Walker Brothers Cowboy or The Office or Boys and Girls from Dance of the Happy Shades, her first story collection - and write a nice essay about what makes Munro so good and Lee so, seemingly, mediocre.
But mediocre is a mean word. And neither is it the most honest one. Because Rebecca Lee very well could write something lovely - you can see it in her that she has it - but she has to get out of her way for it to come out.
So I picked it up the other day and started reading the first story, Bobcat. And I read through it quite quickly. Surprisingly quickly. It was decent enough. Nothing particularly brave, but it had a few screws that turned in a nice direction, even if they didn’t end up getting deep enough into the wood to actually construct a story. So I leapt into the next story. I found myself with a similar feeling. And then the next. And then the next. I should have been suspect when, in one day, I read through five of the collection’s six stories, more than 160 pages, and put the book down to go to sleep with more desire to finish the book than to really examine whether or not the stories were any good.
And maybe two of them were good, the first and the last, with the 4 in between being slightly worse, but not in and of themselves bad. In each story, told from a first person perspective in a voice that sounded similar, with other characters that felt similar, with scenarios that felt a bit too similar, with a few metaphors (or were they symbols?) that were repeated a few times, in each story there was a promise of something that could have been good or maybe even very good, and then, in each story, before the ending arrived, and just as the ending was arriving, everything seemed to fizzle out. No great insight or importance was shared. Nothing was really acquired. I didn’t learn much, and nothing felt revelatory - which is to say that nothing was necessary. Why did I read this?
After finishing the fifth story the other night and before picking up and finishing the sixth story today I read through the short biographical blurb about Rebecca Lee at the back and discovered that she is a graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. I don’t know if that is a good thing or a bad thing, but for some reason I think it is a thing that shouldn’t necessarily be included in your writing bio. I also think that it is a fact of her life that is obvious in her writing; writing that, at times, gets to be too damned writerly about small details that one suspects only writers who spend their days composing sentences in their mind while walking the dog notice, all the while trying to come up with the most original way to describe something that is almost entirely ordinary. And I would say that a surprising amount of space, a lot of words, are devoted to those ordinary things that she wants use to believe are filled with importance. Maybe they are. Sometimes in the hands of an exceptional writer they are. Here I wasn’t convinced. And, going back to the Iowa Writers’ Workshop - which has a particular history of teaching mediocre writers good writing tips which they don’t then turn into good writing - most of the time the stories felt like assignments, something that filled a particular goal for a particular teacher and which didn’t in fact enhance art.
That isn’t to say that the writing here is a complete failure. There are sentences and descriptions of ordinary things that are quite lovely, that are quite impressive, special, and in the struggle of making true art, of becoming a writer whose descriptions, like those of Steinbeck or Golding or Lessing or Achebe or Woolf, are truly revelatory, you need to write a lot of bad ones. You need to find your groove, as it were. Hell, I’m trying to find my groove, as it were. But here, all too often the descriptions are just a fancy effort to sound like a good writer rather than actually be a good writer. Does that make sense? Do you understand what I’m saying? I don’t know, if I were Rebecca Lee, or if I were her editor, I would have called upon these six stories as her first ones to publish in a collection.
The problem, of course, is because of Munro, that great matriarch of Canadian literature, the one that lords over our landscape. I hold all short stories up to her standard, which isn’t ultimately fair, but is the only standard the literature should be held up to - that of pure, clean, wonderful excellence. If I hadn’t taken the time, while cycling home from the cafe where I finished the collection this afternoon, to unload it from my backpack and load it into one of the free front yard libraries that dot my neighbourhood, it would be interesting to sit back with the best of these - perhaps Bobcat, perhaps Fialta - and with the best of Munro - damned near anything from any of her collections, but for a more fair comparison let’s choose Walker Brothers Cowboy or The Office or Boys and Girls from Dance of the Happy Shades, her first story collection - and write a nice essay about what makes Munro so good and Lee so, seemingly, mediocre.
But mediocre is a mean word. And neither is it the most honest one. Because Rebecca Lee very well could write something lovely - you can see it in her that she has it - but she has to get out of her way for it to come out.
September 16, 2012
I desperately wanted to like this book, but felt bogged down the further I went with the unevenness and the flimsiness of the stories. The characters were never compelling - indeed, less than an hour after finishing the book I'd have difficulty in differentiating the characters from each other. The first story, Bobcat, was probably the strongest although the "unexpected conclusion" really wasn't that unexpected.
Johanna Skibsrud, the Giller-winning author, gave the book this cover copy "Alternately poignant, searingly intelligent and laugh-out-loud funny" and I left wondering if we read the same book. Rarely did I care much as to the outcome of the characters, heart-strings were not pulled and at no point was there anything approaching humor. It is perhaps the most misleading cover quote I've seen lately.
Johanna Skibsrud, the Giller-winning author, gave the book this cover copy "Alternately poignant, searingly intelligent and laugh-out-loud funny" and I left wondering if we read the same book. Rarely did I care much as to the outcome of the characters, heart-strings were not pulled and at no point was there anything approaching humor. It is perhaps the most misleading cover quote I've seen lately.
January 19, 2023
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
5 incredible stars
Stunning. Exquisite. Endearing. Engaging.
I’m sad this doesn’t have more rave reviews or hype around it, although in a way this makes it more special as I feel I’ve stumbled across a hidden gem.
This book was an Instagram recommendation from Coco Mellors (author of the equally spectacular Cleopatra and Frankenstein) and I can definitely see a link between both sets of incredible writing. READ THEM BOTH IMMEDIATELY!
I will re-read this a million times, and find something new and exciting each time.
5 incredible stars
Stunning. Exquisite. Endearing. Engaging.
I’m sad this doesn’t have more rave reviews or hype around it, although in a way this makes it more special as I feel I’ve stumbled across a hidden gem.
This book was an Instagram recommendation from Coco Mellors (author of the equally spectacular Cleopatra and Frankenstein) and I can definitely see a link between both sets of incredible writing. READ THEM BOTH IMMEDIATELY!
I will re-read this a million times, and find something new and exciting each time.
December 5, 2014
Seven stories of desire versus contentment and the things that keep people together or drive them apart. The title story is a knockout; this one alone is worth the price of admission. However, the last story echoes the first, and the five tales in between are strangely repetitive, most with Midwestern North American narrators and 1980s university settings. Moreover, all seven are in the first person; I would have appreciated more variety of perspective.
First things first, though: the excellent “Bobcat.” The narrator is a pregnant city lawyer preparing for a dinner party. She and her husband are serving the sort of dishes you might find in a 1970s cookbook: terrine, roast and trifle. The old-fashioned fare contrasts perfectly with the unorthodox relationships around the table: two of the women are about to lose their husbands to mistresses. The story gets its title from another party guest who was mauled by a bobcat on a mountain pass in Nepal. The bobcat is a symbol of everything lying in wait for us; some of these shocks may be blessings in disguise, but to start with they will be painful.
See my full review at The Bookbag.
First things first, though: the excellent “Bobcat.” The narrator is a pregnant city lawyer preparing for a dinner party. She and her husband are serving the sort of dishes you might find in a 1970s cookbook: terrine, roast and trifle. The old-fashioned fare contrasts perfectly with the unorthodox relationships around the table: two of the women are about to lose their husbands to mistresses. The story gets its title from another party guest who was mauled by a bobcat on a mountain pass in Nepal. The bobcat is a symbol of everything lying in wait for us; some of these shocks may be blessings in disguise, but to start with they will be painful.
See my full review at The Bookbag.
July 27, 2022
Lee makes learning fun. I was googling utopian communities and architecture and archeology terms and didn't feel put upon, or that she was simply showing off her vast range of knowledge; it added so much to these stories, each one brilliant and completely its own world.
And her sentences, Good Lord:
He looked at me. I nodded. I was one of those students who nod a lot. I AM THIS STUDENT.
We both sat silent. Luckily, I had experience lying in my adolescence and knew it was possible to win even though both parties were aware of the lie. The exercise was not a search for truth but rather a test of exterior reserve.
Meanwhile, Susan looked carefully into each of our faces. She was actually waiting for us to answer, to give reasons why people fall in love and get married. Nobody knows, I wanted to say. Nobody really knows. But that doesn’t mean you’re allowed to not do it.
And her sentences, Good Lord:
He looked at me. I nodded. I was one of those students who nod a lot. I AM THIS STUDENT.
We both sat silent. Luckily, I had experience lying in my adolescence and knew it was possible to win even though both parties were aware of the lie. The exercise was not a search for truth but rather a test of exterior reserve.
Meanwhile, Susan looked carefully into each of our faces. She was actually waiting for us to answer, to give reasons why people fall in love and get married. Nobody knows, I wanted to say. Nobody really knows. But that doesn’t mean you’re allowed to not do it.
July 6, 2012
Lee is clearly talented. The stories (with the exception of the title story) are all interesting, but if this were a record, I'd say that all the songs are overproduced. Lee seems to agonize over her sentences, and sometimes this makes them poetic wonders, but more often they read as precious. The audience for this book is very small - humanities majors and literary hounds will love it, but I didn't find it very accessible.
September 9, 2020
These stories were all articulate, beautifully developed, and well-written. Most dealt with rites of passage (physically and emotionally) and the impermanence of life. And I absolutely understand the praise this collection received. Wait for it....BUT....
The darn characters in every story were ridiculously self-important, egocentric, pseudo-intellectual bullshit artists who made (mostly) bad choices and then whined about those choices for sixty pages. Sorry, that’s harsh, but it really detracted from the gorgeous language and obvious talent of the author. The final story, “Settlers,” the shortest of the collection was my favorite. The protagonist was (refreshingly) self-aware and honest, making her difficulties much more relatable. Overall, read these for the language then ditch the characters.
The darn characters in every story were ridiculously self-important, egocentric, pseudo-intellectual bullshit artists who made (mostly) bad choices and then whined about those choices for sixty pages. Sorry, that’s harsh, but it really detracted from the gorgeous language and obvious talent of the author. The final story, “Settlers,” the shortest of the collection was my favorite. The protagonist was (refreshingly) self-aware and honest, making her difficulties much more relatable. Overall, read these for the language then ditch the characters.
August 1, 2014
WOW. This book got great reviews when it came out, and now I understand why. These are delicious, dreamy, deeply rewarding short stories. The writing is GORGEOUS and slightly magical, veering every so slightly into the surreal once or twice. I read it on the airplane in one sitting, and it was the perfect book for that--so delightful and absorbing and satisfying.
So what's a cocktail that is magical and surprising but also deeply satisfying and rewarding? I'm going to prescribe a Whiskey Smash. It's more of a template than a specific recipe, but here's how it goes:
1.5 oz bourbon or rye
A few sprigs of spearmint (leaves only, no stems)
A handful of blackberries, peaches, or cherries
.5 oz agave nectar or simple syrup
1/2 lemon
optional: club soda
Reserve a few mint leaves and fruit for garnish. Put the first four ingredients in a cocktail shaker and muddle to release the fruit juice. Squeeze some lemon juice into the shaker. Mix well, and pour the whole mess into a glass. (some people strain out the smashed fruit and herbs, but then it's not really a smash, is it? Up to you.) Fill the glass with crushed ice. Garnish with more fruit and mint. Top it off with club soda if you like.
NOTE: Don't like whiskey? Try it with rum, and maybe use blueberries, strawberries, raspberries, pineapple. Don't like rum? Try it with tequila and watermelon. Don't like tequila? Try any of the above with gin or vodka. You get the idea.
So what's a cocktail that is magical and surprising but also deeply satisfying and rewarding? I'm going to prescribe a Whiskey Smash. It's more of a template than a specific recipe, but here's how it goes:
1.5 oz bourbon or rye
A few sprigs of spearmint (leaves only, no stems)
A handful of blackberries, peaches, or cherries
.5 oz agave nectar or simple syrup
1/2 lemon
optional: club soda
Reserve a few mint leaves and fruit for garnish. Put the first four ingredients in a cocktail shaker and muddle to release the fruit juice. Squeeze some lemon juice into the shaker. Mix well, and pour the whole mess into a glass. (some people strain out the smashed fruit and herbs, but then it's not really a smash, is it? Up to you.) Fill the glass with crushed ice. Garnish with more fruit and mint. Top it off with club soda if you like.
NOTE: Don't like whiskey? Try it with rum, and maybe use blueberries, strawberries, raspberries, pineapple. Don't like rum? Try it with tequila and watermelon. Don't like tequila? Try any of the above with gin or vodka. You get the idea.
January 6, 2014
These are things Rebecca Lee likes, or I strongly suspect she does:
1. Dinner parties
2. Smart people and smart people conversations
3. The academic lifestyle
4. Cheating spouses
5. Language
6. Eastern European men
7. Free trips to Hong Kong
Lee is an elegant writer who can make these potentially dull subjects compelling. She even makes the most outrageous storyline, hello there all expense paid summer trip to Hong Kong including the oddest odd job ever, not seem that ridiculous or just plain stupid.
Lee has a magical touch about her writing, most of these stories could have devolved into screeching angry woman tirades, but they don't. Each story has a calmness about it and she wisely writes each narrator sharing stories from their past but with the perspective that only time can offer.
1. Dinner parties
2. Smart people and smart people conversations
3. The academic lifestyle
4. Cheating spouses
5. Language
6. Eastern European men
7. Free trips to Hong Kong
Lee is an elegant writer who can make these potentially dull subjects compelling. She even makes the most outrageous storyline, hello there all expense paid summer trip to Hong Kong including the oddest odd job ever, not seem that ridiculous or just plain stupid.
Lee has a magical touch about her writing, most of these stories could have devolved into screeching angry woman tirades, but they don't. Each story has a calmness about it and she wisely writes each narrator sharing stories from their past but with the perspective that only time can offer.
July 2, 2013
Teaching and Learning
These are richly textured stories that almost all touch on college learning and/or teaching. Lee is a skilled writer and by the end of each story she plops you down in a place far distant from where you think you’ll find yourself. Her stories are emotional with a slowly building intensity that can catch you off guard with the lack of overt angst. She looks at things with a skewed vision that none the less feels true. Her sweet spot is the subtle nature of the relationship between the teacher and the taught and the interplay of the two. I found myself contemplating whether the battle ground was learning, or power, or love or Truth some combination of all three. These stories mostly take place in the characters’ heads with a spare amount happening through action and dialog. Though no huge tragedies happen Lee gives the everyday a twist that wrings out day to day sadness and puts it in our faces. Around about now you’re thinking, why would I read such stories, and the answer is because of their beauty.
This review is based on an advance readers copy supplied by the publisher.
(Disclaimer given per FTC requirement.)
These are richly textured stories that almost all touch on college learning and/or teaching. Lee is a skilled writer and by the end of each story she plops you down in a place far distant from where you think you’ll find yourself. Her stories are emotional with a slowly building intensity that can catch you off guard with the lack of overt angst. She looks at things with a skewed vision that none the less feels true. Her sweet spot is the subtle nature of the relationship between the teacher and the taught and the interplay of the two. I found myself contemplating whether the battle ground was learning, or power, or love or Truth some combination of all three. These stories mostly take place in the characters’ heads with a spare amount happening through action and dialog. Though no huge tragedies happen Lee gives the everyday a twist that wrings out day to day sadness and puts it in our faces. Around about now you’re thinking, why would I read such stories, and the answer is because of their beauty.
This review is based on an advance readers copy supplied by the publisher.
(Disclaimer given per FTC requirement.)
December 17, 2015
I love how Rebecca Lee writes dinner parties.
November 6, 2022
I enjoyed reading this with our walking book club. Rebecca Lee is an excellent writer with a beautiful flow to her words. The stories were easy to get into and I was quickly invested in the characters and their development. Many of the stories are open ended so it made for great discussions on our walks. 😊
October 7, 2013
Excellent collection, a privilege and pleasure to read. Review later, I hope..
Rebecca Lee has become another Canadian writer to edge into the top tier of my list of greats (along with Alice Munro) with this one book. It reminded me in many ways of Edith Pearlman’s beautiful collection ‘Binocular Vision’ - which I read earlier this year - in its scope and complexity. A lot of the stories have academic/campus settings (like Pearlman’s) but there is also an international side to it (one story set in Hong Kong, others involve Romanian exiles, possible Nazi supporters from Poland etc) and a concern with the big themes, what is the right way to live, the permanence (or otherwise) of love. The characters are engaging, usually bright students or professors, or dinner party guests: architects, journalists, diplomats. There is much about political correctness and its problems on campus, sexual desire and the good life. She’s great on characters’ motives and contradictions, great on description and setting. Hard to give a flavour, but this might help:
It started as the usual dinner – me staring at my plate, my parents staring at me as if I were about to break in two. But halfway through the meal I started feeling lightheaded. Nothing frightening happened, but I did manage to lift slightly out of myself. I looked down at our tiny family. I saw my father from above, the deep map of his face. I understood in an instant that of course he was having an affair, and that he was torn between my mother and this other, distant woman. I saw my beautiful mother from above, and I could see how she must hate this other woman. Yet sympathise as well, because this other woman was very ill.
Lee is far too subtle and complex to engage in partisan politics, but I’m not. One story reminded me of an unedifying chapter in what was a whole series of unedifying chapters in the book of Margaret Thatcher’s UK premiership. The protagonist goes to Hong Kong in the 80s and works briefly for someone in charge of the Vietnamese refugees: the boat people bob up and down in the harbour, others are kept in terrible ‘camps’ waiting for asylum. Britain governs Hong Kong, and Thatcher wants to repatriate all the refugees back to the iniquitous Vietcong regime. Although she is persuaded (read: forced against her will) that the UK should take 10,000, she forcibly repatriates many more. During the story the ambassador is certain that this won’t happen, but has to arrange it, and goes to the airport to bow to each refugee who leaves, offering his sympathy.
The time for protest was past, apparently, and now he could only apologise to each of them, even the smallest children. Some of the people shouted at him, a few spit, and a couple lunged for him. I saw one..bow back.. I remembered that Albert had said to me once that a person must bow even if he doesn’t want to. He must bow at everything, and the more he doesn’t want to bow, the more he must. He recalled a phrase that went, “the forehead should be rough with bowing.”
Thatcher visits the province but refuses to visit the camps. The refugees attempt to reply to her indifference:
Along the silver roofs was spelled out in white stones. “Thatcher has no heart.”
Rebecca Lee has become another Canadian writer to edge into the top tier of my list of greats (along with Alice Munro) with this one book. It reminded me in many ways of Edith Pearlman’s beautiful collection ‘Binocular Vision’ - which I read earlier this year - in its scope and complexity. A lot of the stories have academic/campus settings (like Pearlman’s) but there is also an international side to it (one story set in Hong Kong, others involve Romanian exiles, possible Nazi supporters from Poland etc) and a concern with the big themes, what is the right way to live, the permanence (or otherwise) of love. The characters are engaging, usually bright students or professors, or dinner party guests: architects, journalists, diplomats. There is much about political correctness and its problems on campus, sexual desire and the good life. She’s great on characters’ motives and contradictions, great on description and setting. Hard to give a flavour, but this might help:
It started as the usual dinner – me staring at my plate, my parents staring at me as if I were about to break in two. But halfway through the meal I started feeling lightheaded. Nothing frightening happened, but I did manage to lift slightly out of myself. I looked down at our tiny family. I saw my father from above, the deep map of his face. I understood in an instant that of course he was having an affair, and that he was torn between my mother and this other, distant woman. I saw my beautiful mother from above, and I could see how she must hate this other woman. Yet sympathise as well, because this other woman was very ill.
Lee is far too subtle and complex to engage in partisan politics, but I’m not. One story reminded me of an unedifying chapter in what was a whole series of unedifying chapters in the book of Margaret Thatcher’s UK premiership. The protagonist goes to Hong Kong in the 80s and works briefly for someone in charge of the Vietnamese refugees: the boat people bob up and down in the harbour, others are kept in terrible ‘camps’ waiting for asylum. Britain governs Hong Kong, and Thatcher wants to repatriate all the refugees back to the iniquitous Vietcong regime. Although she is persuaded (read: forced against her will) that the UK should take 10,000, she forcibly repatriates many more. During the story the ambassador is certain that this won’t happen, but has to arrange it, and goes to the airport to bow to each refugee who leaves, offering his sympathy.
The time for protest was past, apparently, and now he could only apologise to each of them, even the smallest children. Some of the people shouted at him, a few spit, and a couple lunged for him. I saw one..bow back.. I remembered that Albert had said to me once that a person must bow even if he doesn’t want to. He must bow at everything, and the more he doesn’t want to bow, the more he must. He recalled a phrase that went, “the forehead should be rough with bowing.”
Thatcher visits the province but refuses to visit the camps. The refugees attempt to reply to her indifference:
Along the silver roofs was spelled out in white stones. “Thatcher has no heart.”
November 18, 2018
Seven very novelistic short stories (long, set in worlds that I believe carry on after the story). It's all v cerebral and metropolitan but with a God slant. Despite the familiar territory, there are just so many good lines and original metaphors and similes. Rebecca Lee's really got it all.
Apparently, Lee spent six years on the title story even though it's set in a single evening. It was worth it. 'Slatland', about a young woman's encounter with the most disturbing therapist yet in fiction, is probably my favourite, though it's the outlier in the collection, because it's truly weird. I first read it in Ben Marcus's (impeccable) Granta short story anthology.
Bobcat and the rest are largely set among the literary upper middle-classes and mostly - apart from 'Fialta' (narrated by a male character in his twenties and the least successful in this collection, imo) - narrated in first person by a woman in her mid-to-late thirties. Despite the satiric potential of this milieu, Lee doesn't skewer her characters. There's a lot of humour in the brilliant dialogue, but the emotional predicaments feel real. Her writing is also so damn beautiful without losing precision. So pleased to have found a new favourite writer - I feel like I'll be re-reading this again very soon.
Apparently, Lee spent six years on the title story even though it's set in a single evening. It was worth it. 'Slatland', about a young woman's encounter with the most disturbing therapist yet in fiction, is probably my favourite, though it's the outlier in the collection, because it's truly weird. I first read it in Ben Marcus's (impeccable) Granta short story anthology.
Bobcat and the rest are largely set among the literary upper middle-classes and mostly - apart from 'Fialta' (narrated by a male character in his twenties and the least successful in this collection, imo) - narrated in first person by a woman in her mid-to-late thirties. Despite the satiric potential of this milieu, Lee doesn't skewer her characters. There's a lot of humour in the brilliant dialogue, but the emotional predicaments feel real. Her writing is also so damn beautiful without losing precision. So pleased to have found a new favourite writer - I feel like I'll be re-reading this again very soon.
November 18, 2014
Every one of these stories, save for the title story, was incredibly engrossing, beautiful, and thought-provoking. So if you pick up this collection and don't really click with the first one, keep reading. Trust me, it's well worth it.
Rebecca Lee does an excellent job of captivating your attention and creating characters that seem so real in such a short amount of time. Many of these stories deal with normal people in relatively normal circumstances, but they all seem to have some higher understanding or knowledge that leads them to interesting discoveries or thoughts. I'm not sure I'm explaining this well, but essentially Lee writes stories that are more than just a glimpse into a moment of time, but that also have something powerful to say about the human experience.
She avoids melodrama. None of the stories feel contrived, though they all have the potential to be a bit ridiculous. Somehow she lets you into the characters mind for just a bit to really experience the story fully. I am definitely interested in reading more of her work.
Favorite stories: "The Banks of the Vistula" and "Min"
Rebecca Lee does an excellent job of captivating your attention and creating characters that seem so real in such a short amount of time. Many of these stories deal with normal people in relatively normal circumstances, but they all seem to have some higher understanding or knowledge that leads them to interesting discoveries or thoughts. I'm not sure I'm explaining this well, but essentially Lee writes stories that are more than just a glimpse into a moment of time, but that also have something powerful to say about the human experience.
She avoids melodrama. None of the stories feel contrived, though they all have the potential to be a bit ridiculous. Somehow she lets you into the characters mind for just a bit to really experience the story fully. I am definitely interested in reading more of her work.
Favorite stories: "The Banks of the Vistula" and "Min"
October 17, 2012
Bobcat and Other Stories is a book right up my alley, as an ardent fan of short fiction, and Rebecca Lee’s stories lived up to every fantastic review I’d heard. She has a talent of making insubstantial moments universally understandable, and I often felt like the experiences of the characters were my own life experiences. I could relate to them all and I rooted for them all. A complex love triangle at an architecture school made me cringe for everyone involved, and a young woman’s summer job of finding a wife for her best friend had me hoping against all odds that she would choose herself as his wife. Lee’s characters are open and vulnerable, flawed and fragile, and I loved them all the more for their blunders and fears. Bobcat and Other Stories is an engrossing read that I highly recommend you pick up!
- Rachel Geertsema, Online Marketing Coordinator
- Rachel Geertsema, Online Marketing Coordinator
February 7, 2016
Yet another overly polished product of the MFA workshop culture that totally dominates short stories. Nearly every story has a dinner party at its center where we meet writers and artists and college professors who talk about yoga and their therapists and ex patriate lovers. Who is she writing for? Who can relate to these characters? The author seems totally incapable of speaking to or understanding anyone who has a slightly different background or perspective than her own. As if to demonstrate this the only story with a man as a narrator (though an aspiring architect at an intensive retreat so we have those bases covered) is a total non-starter. Unless you've got buckets of money and privilege you're not going to find anything comprehensible here.
August 9, 2013
Meg Storey (Editor, Tin House Books): I will be forever grateful to the friend who recommended Rebecca Lee’s debut story collection, Bobcat, to me. Within the first few pages, I knew it was going to be a book I wouldn’t want to end, and so I limited myself to one story a day to stretch out the experience as long as possible. I won’t attempt to summarize the collection, but I will say that each story is equal in the beauty of its prose and the strength of its emotional wallop, each story devastating in its own original and haunting way. I know this is a collection I will return to again and again and I hope to read more of Lee’s work very, very soon.
December 31, 2016
This collection of short stories touched on the theme of love not quite realized, relationships which have failed to thrive. The story line and characters were fully realized in the limited space of these stories. Although I would describe each as solid, none managed to grab and shake me. I never wanted to put down the book after completing one just to ponder what was said.
February 2, 2020
4.5 stars. The prose was absolutely mesmerizing. I've got a serious case of writer's envy here.
September 3, 2024
Absolutely loved every story in here. All extremely different but somehow leave you with a very similar feeling at the end.
June 12, 2013
Bobcat and Other Stories by Rebecca Lee is a collection of seven short stories. The stories included are: Bobcat; Banks of the Vistula; Slatland; Min; World Party; Fialta; Settlers.
"Bobcat," the opening story, features a dinner party that foreshadows some unexpected results and entertains doubts about the veracity of more than one guest's story.
In "Banks of the Vistula" a student plagiarist is known but not quite revealed.
"Slatland" has a character who encounters the same therapist twice in her life under very different circumstances.
A young woman helps find a suitable spouse for her male best friend in "Min".
In "World Party" a committee composed of peers must rule on the behavior of another professor.
During a summer retreat at "Fialta" student architects learn more about life than academics.
The closing story, "Settlers," features close friends over several dinner parties, culminating in one unforgettable one.
All of these stories feature characters who are well educated. Many are involved in academia as students or professors. Lee's stories are all told from a first-person perspective as they delve into juxtaposed contrasting themes involving faithfulness, friendship, security, apathy, honesty, and relationships. The writing is richly descriptive and captures many nuances and layers of thought and meaning in each of the stories. Often it felt like what was at the edge of being said or revealed was looming over the seemingly everyday conversations between the characters.
In several cases, as I reached the end of a story I was filled with a sense of melancholy. The endings struck me as raw, unfinished, in a way because there was no definite conclusion, or, perhaps, overriding answer to some of the concerns of the characters or actions in the stories. It made each story sort of an exquisite little glimpse into only part of a life, never the whole. This created a sort of a "little Match Girl" syndrome for me; I was seeing these glimpses of brilliance that ended too soon and I wanted more. The quandary is, naturally, that giving me more would not necessarily equate a better story.
very highly recommended
Disclosure: My Kindle edition was courtesy of Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill via Netgalley for review purposes.
"Bobcat," the opening story, features a dinner party that foreshadows some unexpected results and entertains doubts about the veracity of more than one guest's story.
In "Banks of the Vistula" a student plagiarist is known but not quite revealed.
"Slatland" has a character who encounters the same therapist twice in her life under very different circumstances.
A young woman helps find a suitable spouse for her male best friend in "Min".
In "World Party" a committee composed of peers must rule on the behavior of another professor.
During a summer retreat at "Fialta" student architects learn more about life than academics.
The closing story, "Settlers," features close friends over several dinner parties, culminating in one unforgettable one.
All of these stories feature characters who are well educated. Many are involved in academia as students or professors. Lee's stories are all told from a first-person perspective as they delve into juxtaposed contrasting themes involving faithfulness, friendship, security, apathy, honesty, and relationships. The writing is richly descriptive and captures many nuances and layers of thought and meaning in each of the stories. Often it felt like what was at the edge of being said or revealed was looming over the seemingly everyday conversations between the characters.
In several cases, as I reached the end of a story I was filled with a sense of melancholy. The endings struck me as raw, unfinished, in a way because there was no definite conclusion, or, perhaps, overriding answer to some of the concerns of the characters or actions in the stories. It made each story sort of an exquisite little glimpse into only part of a life, never the whole. This created a sort of a "little Match Girl" syndrome for me; I was seeing these glimpses of brilliance that ended too soon and I wanted more. The quandary is, naturally, that giving me more would not necessarily equate a better story.
very highly recommended
Disclosure: My Kindle edition was courtesy of Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill via Netgalley for review purposes.
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