A Hall of Small Decembers

I’m currently reading a book called “Hall of Small Mammals” by Thomas Pierce. It’s a collection of short stories, similar to "Tenth of December", By George Saunders. While working my way through each story, I can’t help but compare the two books since their structure is so similar. Both books hover between the ordinary and the fantastic, occasionally attempting to normalize ridiculous concepts.

"The Semplica-Girl Diaries" (Tenth of December) examines a world in which having human beings dangling in your yard in totally normal. "Shirley Temple Three" (Hall of Small Mammals) exists in a world where de-extinction is not only achievable, but televised each week. That similarity puzzled me; I’m not a huge fan of "Tenth of December", but I love "Hall of Small Mammals." How could two books, so close in structure and content, evoke such different responses?

The closest explanation I could find was in the overall structure of each story. "Tenth of December," at least in my experience, preferred to create a vortex of sensations. It wasn’t always clear what was physically going on, and often spent some time having the characters contemplate the meaning of the story in one way or another. "The Semplica-Girl Diaries" started as a simple diary, but devolved into the main character’s contemplation of class, humanity, and freedom.

"Hall of Small Mammals" is different. Each story focuses almost exclusively on the physical world, only occasionally dipping into a more contemplative format. The barrage of sensory input remains the same from book to book, but Hall of Small Mammals doesn’t give you the same view into each character’s thoughts. It was more explicit in its narrative, less so in its analysis of the events.

While I initially thought that was a mark against Hall of Small Mammals, I realized that lack of overt reflection was one of my favorite parts. It gave me a lot more room to breathe and move around. I could create a clear picture in my head, and derive what meaning I could from that image. Tenth of December threw me headfirst into a tornado, it expected too much and gave me too little.