Bliss Montage, Ling Ma’s short story collection, is… cohesive. let’s start with that. there are common themes, ones that are felt throughout even if they aren’t deliberately stated: inescapable pasts; unachievable futures; not truly being able to return home; wanting things not good for you; wanting to be loved and protected and provided for, even by the wrong people. these themes are striking and very moving, but through the course of the collection they begin feeling a bit trite.  

there are some stories in this collection that have excellent premises and excellent development—only to ultimately fall flat on their faces with an attempt at poignancy on the final pages. Yeti Lovemaking, Office Hours, and Tomorrow come to mind. it’s odd—Ma has a gift when it comes to weaving meaning into her stories, and some of Bliss Montage makes this very clear, but it’s alarming how dichotomized this collection felt to me; while all the stories fit together, i feel that their quality dips and peaks drastically from one to another. 

this collection feels very personal. while reading, i sensed that Ma’s very being had been poured onto the page. at times, though, i wished she’d had some restraint. each narrator was the same—each narrator was, essentially, Ma—but variety is key to a collection like this, and i noticed very little of it. 

Bliss Montage is not a bad short story collection. but it is also not a good one. after Severance, i had high hopes for Ma—it’s sad that i didn’t like Bliss Montage as much as i’d thought i would. 

favorite stories: G, Los Angeles