THE MISSING KIDNEY

Fourteen stories about the things we do for love, set in New York of the 1970s and ’80s.

Though her debut novel-in-stories, Queen for a Day (2018), was well reviewed, Rosaler’s work will probably be new to most readers. Yet fans of Lorrie Moore, Lucia Berlin, Marian Thurm, and Grace Paley will quickly notice that those authors have a sister in this whimsical and wise chronicle of relationships between the sexes. In "Hospitality," a young woman who is about to become entangled with a much older and somewhat tedious man explains her situation: “My life, like a bagel, had no center.” Another character, in "Happiness," is a dancer in the East Village, “whose face often wore a faraway smile that seemed to say she was sharing a private joke with God.” In the title story, our hapless heroine can’t seem to nail her job search: “Once, I was so flustered, I forgot to put paper in the typewriter, and I typed my thirty-five words a minute onto a bewildered, endlessly revolving black cylinder.” The typewriter, the pink pad hanging next to the fridge for messages, and the lack of cellphones mark these stories with period ambience, but the situations they illuminate are timeless. In a favorite, “Wheatberries,” the narrator comes home to find her husband has broken and thrown away a storage jar. “Reaching into the garbage, I retrieved the remnants of the jar and dumped what was left of the wheatberries onto the table, prepared to get to work salvaging as many pieces of grain as possible, because, in my own little way, I have always been a defender of the defenseless, a champion of lost causes, determined to set every wrong right.” When the husband comes in and tells her she’s insane, she says, “Sometimes I think you don’t love me anymore.” Oh no, he counters, “I love you. I love you. Just because I hate you doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Let’s just forget it.” That’s marriage for you, right? Chef’s kiss, as they say nowadays.

The best short story writer you’ve never heard of.