'The O. Henry Prize Stories 2024

The O. Henry Prize is one the oldest literary award around, since 1919, with a break in 2020. It honors good short stories published in English in the journals and magazines in US and Canada. The award list for 2025 has just been announced in April. 

I like the annual compilation because it tells me the story trends, writing directions and inclinations of what authors want to do, slightly more than what readers want to read, because thankfully, we are still pretty diverse in our reading preferences.

I always read these stories a year later. I enjoyed the 2024 compilation. There are 20 stories/authors selected that are published in this edition of 'The Best Short Stories 2024: The O. Henry Prize Winners' (September 2024), edited by Amor Towles.

There's a story translated from Portuguese 'My Good Friend' by Juliana Leite (translated by Zoë Perry), and another translated from Italian 'The Soccer Balls of Mr. Kurz' by Michele Mari (translated by Brian Robert Moore). The compilation is a good read that I didn't intend to finish in one sitting. I split them over a few days, also because the book came in during a week when I was super busy. So I could only read it over coffee or over lunch when I get some precious alone-time. Here are two extracts from two stories I enjoyed. 

'The Honor of Your Presence' by Dave Eggers, published in One Story

Narrator Helen is an invitation card designer, and she has an out-of-work relative, Uncle Peter Mahoney who lives in her garage in Tres Pinos. One day, Uncle Peter egged her on to sneak into one of the galas that she had done the invites. It was a costumed gala at the museum in Monterey. So Peter dressed up as a leopard seal and Helen was a whale shark.

Then they conjured an extra invite and crashed another party at the fairground in Gilroy — the Gilroy Garlic Festival. Uncle Peter brought along his friend Gus too. She got to know bartender Terri at this party, and there were romantic sparks between them. Terri said she was going to work at another party. So Helen and Uncle Peter and her colleagues they began crashing another costumed party at Palace of Fine Arts. 

 "Don't you realize how stupid this is?" Helen roared. She pointed at her colleagues, one by one, like a scolding nun. "Sona comes to these events. She's probably somewhere with a headset and a clipboard. With every additional moron—and you're all just towering morons—you're exponentially increasing the chances we'll all get caught."

"Helen," Gwen said. "You really think she'd recognize any of us in period costumes, and half of us in masks?"

At the end of it, Helen left her colleagues because she didn't want to be fired from her job, and ran into Terri. And she was glad she crashed this party. Heheheh. Well, I suppose you have to chance it in life this once or twice, just to see where it takes you.

'The Room-Service Waiter' by Tom Crewe, published in Granta

Young Charles Bisset was working as a room-service waiter at hotel Le Meurice. There is a painting done of Charles by a hotel guest named Soutine in 1927. Charles was then 24 years old. Monsieur Soutine was now deceased, and ironically was highly esteemed as an artist now, and this particular painting is on its third owner, titled 'The Room-Service Waiter'. 

Decades later, a curator at the Louvre Monsieur DuPont came seek out Charles to invite him to an exhibition of Soutine's paintings at the gallery, paintings done of waiters, pastry cooks, valets, bellboys across many hotels. 

Attending the opening of the exhibition brought back memories of Charles's youth, including how he had met his ex-wife Josephine, who was a chambermaid at Le Meurice. Josephine and Charles were married for ten years, then they split. There was no reason given for their split.

I don't want to think about how art affects people, and having one's portrait done by an unknown and then later-on famous artist would affect one's life. I focused on the other parts of the story. I looked at the nostalgia in this story, and then some. Memories of one's youth, one's past, and now, as an older person, thirty years later, looking back at all those early years. 

He finished his sandwich and found some paper. He wrote a letter to Josephine, telling her about M. DuPont and the picture. He would be honored if she were to go with him one day to see it, as they had always wanted to. People said he was hardly changed! He was sure she would think that he was. I hope you will say yes to this invitation, he concluded: I would so much like to see you again. Forgive me, Charles. 

He sealed the letter in an envelope and left it on the table. Then he walked into his bedroom and stood swaying in front of the mirror. He smoothed his hair and tightened his tie and put his hands on his hips. "Bravo," he said quietly to the empty room. "Bravo."