I recently stumbled—o.k., not stumbled—read might be more appropriate as the New Yorker Fiction has become a weekly addiction of mine. So in very few words, I wish, I read Egan’s explosive short story Safari. And am still wowed by the effects.
Essentially, it’s a story of a family—a father and his latest girlfriend, with her PH.D in view, his two children—among a group of tourists in Kenya on an expedition of wildlife. It seemed to be an out of life experience for them; Of course because they were whites, and Africa was just vacation and sun enough to tan their skins.
For the father, perhaps it was more than that. Owing to the fact that he is notorious with ladies, he enjoys the ambience and pleasure of a warm flesh next to him, which he could reach out to at any odd hour when sexual intuition gets the better of him. But alarmingly, his latest girlfriend, as subtly as a crush could be written into a story without heralding character bias, is sexually attracted to another.
This story, in the most subtle form, comments on the complexity of the relations and relationship. And surprisingly, gives a tidy ending—something not readily obtainable in the short story form. The unhindered plunge into the future gives the story its denouement, and makes it function as a short story. I enjoyed this story and would recommend it to any reader.
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