"Contrary" by Laury A. Egan

 

In Contrary Laury A. Egan trains her unforgiving eye on some of the 21st Century’s worst features. She takes up toxic childrearing practices; the dicey work of maintaining relationships in the Queer spectrum; the haughty, insular views of the wealthy class; and, among others, the isolation and confusion of older citizens beginning to lose their mental acuity. Through it all she yolks her comprehensive understanding of people’s emotional journeys, and treats her characters and her readers with a therapist’s support and generosity. It’s a collection full of lovely, memorable pieces.

As in all good fiction, characters’ lives change: they move from one phase of their lives to the next, for better or for worse. There’s the teenager born to privilege who, after walking to a welcoming home in a very different neighborhood for his Thanksgiving dinner, returns home to grudgingly fulfill his holiday duties. He remains in his room long enough to rein in his disgust toward his father and his old-money pals so he can perform dutifully.

We also meet a widow late in her life who is not very comfortable attending a Christmas dinner under the threat of Covid. When she finds no one else is in a mask, she surreptitiously removes hers, but is horrified when everyone else at the party, who are all her age or thereabouts, interrupts their own conversation to take video hello’s from family in other states. Her isolation is complete when she decides to get her coat and leave early, to the angry glances and whispered recriminations of her fellow guests.

And, quite memorably, a young psychotherapist marches along a beach, fuming about a cowardly breakup being perpetrated by her mooching lover. Because of a note written in the sand, of all things, she meets an enigmatic character holed up on the beach who calls himself “Captain Roy.” This old gent draws her out about why she’s so angry, and says some miraculously on-point things, plumbing her emotional depths so quickly and  with such exactitude that she is quite gobsmacked. The kinetic therapy he treats her with, and who he used to be before retirement, are simply wondrous, exciting, ineffable.

Egan concludes her collection with a two-act play, “Duet.” This is a new form for her, but she handles it with aplomb. The subject matter and theme are right in her wheelhouse: generous, caring therapists who extend a hand to a troubled client. The drama is very professionally drawn—set and staging are modern and creative—and moves forward with clever devices. For me some of the monologues run a little long, but the climax avoids any tidy wrap-up, but packs a wallop nonetheless.

This is a very rewarding collection. Modern themes hold center stage, and draw the author’s vituperation, which is always pointed and appropriate. Take this collection up, and be reminded of the emotional punch good shorter fiction can provide.