A NEW RACE OF MEN FROM HEAVEN

A poignant collection of stories about people in search of connection.

The Indian and Indian American characters in Sen’s short fiction, chosen by Danielle Evans for the 2021 Mary McCarthy Prize in Short Fiction, are adrift. In “The Immigrant,” it’s not clear who is lost: a little boy who goes missing from a restaurant or Dhruv, a consultant who sits nearby, writing a letter to his parents, confessing his love for a woman about whom they probably wouldn’t approve since she’s Muslim and he’s Hindu, while also second-guessing his worth because of “the immutable fact of his Indianness.” In “A New Race of Men From Heaven,” Sasha hangs on to her virginity well into her 20s and can’t figure out why. In “Uma,” a recently widowed woman leaves her family in India and goes to America to care for her brother’s children only to find that her days lack shape and she is less welcome than she expected. In these stirring, understated stories, the intersections of ethnicity, religion, and gender raise the stakes for the characters—so that when the reasons for their disconnection are finally revealed, it’s often a double whammy. That’s the case in “North, South, East, West,” a piece that slowly teases out the wrenching circumstances of an Indian mother’s distance from her family. “Within this little space she ought to know her children better,” the mother thinks, surveying her small American apartment. “They ought to know her.” And yet by the time we learn what happened back in India, it’s impossible to blame her for withdrawing even as we root for her to emerge. Almost every story here is a study in restraint, Sen’s considerable talent evident in her ability to wring meaning from the smallest details.

Quiet, emotionally gripping stories.