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The Pelican Child: Stories
LONGLISTED FOR THE NATIONAL BOOK AWARD • LONGLISTED FOR THE PEN/JEAN STEIN BOOK AWARD • NAMED A NOTABLE BOOK OF THE YEAR BY THE WASHINGTON POST • A razor-sharp new collection of stories of visionary childhood misfits and struggling adult dreamers from this legendary writer of “perfectly indescribable fiction . . . To read Williams is to look into the abyss” (The Atlantic).
“Night was best, for, as everyone knows, but does not tell, the sobbing of the earth is most audible at night.” “Men are but unconscious machines and they perform their cruelties so effortlessly.” “Caring was a power she’d once possessed but had given up freely.” The sentences of Joy Williams are like no other—the coiled wit, the sense of a confused and ruined landscape, even the slight chortle of hope that lurks between the words—for the scrupulous effort of telling, in these eleven stories, has a ravishing beauty that belies their substance. We meet lost souls like the twin-sister heiresses of a dirty industrial fortune in “After the Haiku Period,” who must commit a violent act in recompense for their family's deeds; in “Nettle,” a newly grown man who still revolves in a dreamscape of his childhood boarding-school innocence; the ghost of George Gurdieff, on an obsessive visit to the Arizona birthplace of the shining Susan Sontag; the “pelican child” who lives with the bony, ill-tempered Baba Yaga in a little hut on chicken legs.
All of these characters insist on exploring, often at their peril, an indifferent and caustic they struggle against our degradation of the climate, of each other, and of honest human experience (“I try to relate only to what is immediately verifiable,” says one narrator ruefully), possibly in vain. But each brief, haunted triumph of understanding is celebrated by Williams, a writer for our time and all time.
“Night was best, for, as everyone knows, but does not tell, the sobbing of the earth is most audible at night.” “Men are but unconscious machines and they perform their cruelties so effortlessly.” “Caring was a power she’d once possessed but had given up freely.” The sentences of Joy Williams are like no other—the coiled wit, the sense of a confused and ruined landscape, even the slight chortle of hope that lurks between the words—for the scrupulous effort of telling, in these eleven stories, has a ravishing beauty that belies their substance. We meet lost souls like the twin-sister heiresses of a dirty industrial fortune in “After the Haiku Period,” who must commit a violent act in recompense for their family's deeds; in “Nettle,” a newly grown man who still revolves in a dreamscape of his childhood boarding-school innocence; the ghost of George Gurdieff, on an obsessive visit to the Arizona birthplace of the shining Susan Sontag; the “pelican child” who lives with the bony, ill-tempered Baba Yaga in a little hut on chicken legs.
All of these characters insist on exploring, often at their peril, an indifferent and caustic they struggle against our degradation of the climate, of each other, and of honest human experience (“I try to relate only to what is immediately verifiable,” says one narrator ruefully), possibly in vain. But each brief, haunted triumph of understanding is celebrated by Williams, a writer for our time and all time.
140 pages, Kindle Edition
First published November 18, 2025
114 people are currently reading
7162 people want to read
About the author
Joy Williams
80 books905 followersWilliams is the author of four novels. Her first, State of Grace (1973), was nominated for a National Book Award for Fiction. Her most recent novel, The Quick and the Dead (2000), was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction. Her first collection of short stories was Taking Care, published in 1982. A second collection, Escapes, followed in 1990. A 2001 essay collection, Ill Nature: Rants and Reflections on Humanity and Other Animals, was a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award for Criticism. Honored Guest, a collection of short stories, was published in 2004. A 30th anniversary reprint of The Changeling was issued in 2008 with an introduction by the American novelist Rick Moody.
Her stories and essays are frequently anthologized, and she has received many awards and honors, including the Harold and Mildred Strauss Living Award from the American Academy of Arts and Letters and the Rea Award for the Short Story.
Her stories and essays are frequently anthologized, and she has received many awards and honors, including the Harold and Mildred Strauss Living Award from the American Academy of Arts and Letters and the Rea Award for the Short Story.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 118 reviews
January 26, 2026
[unfurls red carpet of hyperbole]
America's Greatest Living Writer?
Perhaps, perhaps. Definitely in the running.
Not since Leonora Carrington have stories of old people and dogs been so riveting, so poignant, so cleverly and tenderly absurd. For decades, Joy Williams has kept her fingers clamped to the pulse of America, and it is clear that now, as she encircles its wasted, shriveled wrist once again, she feels the weak, erratic heart rate of a dying culture, one that has been slowly, inexorably impaling itself on the iron rod of capitalism for so many years. Capitalism—a system built by rich normies for the exclusive benefit of rich normies to the detriment of all other life forms.
America's Greatest Living Writer?
Perhaps, perhaps. Definitely in the running.
Not since Leonora Carrington have stories of old people and dogs been so riveting, so poignant, so cleverly and tenderly absurd. For decades, Joy Williams has kept her fingers clamped to the pulse of America, and it is clear that now, as she encircles its wasted, shriveled wrist once again, she feels the weak, erratic heart rate of a dying culture, one that has been slowly, inexorably impaling itself on the iron rod of capitalism for so many years. Capitalism—a system built by rich normies for the exclusive benefit of rich normies to the detriment of all other life forms.
He could have been good-looking, but some quality distorted his features, so he didn't look quite normal, actually. But who wanted to look the way people looked? Or behave the way they behaved? The further you could get from the generically human presentation and its habit of being the better.Long live the Pelican Child!
February 11, 2026
I'm a huge fan of Joy Williams' earlier books (Honored Guest, yes!), but am embarrassed to admit that her more recent work have not done it for me. But "Stuff" is a hilarious piece about a man visiting his mother in a care home to break the news that he is dying. (Yes, it *is* hilarious.) He reminisces:
The stories here (written over quite a few years) are more vicious and funny than Williams' recent work. Can't argue with this from "Nettle":
Was Harrow like this? Or Concerning the Future of Souls? I don't remember.
Somehow I'm able to chuckle through the unhappy characters and dead-end towns. "My First Car":
Before that, they were bemoaning the death of the Great Barrier Reef.
The stories are not just funny, of course. Williams as always quietly empathizes with her characters and their unfortunate situations. But when you're stuck in a lot of shit, you have to find ways to laugh and soldier on.
He had been permitted to kiss his infant sister in her coffin. He had placed one of his soldiers beside her, couched in a pucker of silk. He had said that it was his favorite one, but it was not. It had never been his favorite one.
The stories here (written over quite a few years) are more vicious and funny than Williams' recent work. Can't argue with this from "Nettle":
He could have been good-looking, but some quality distorted his features, so he didn't look quite normal, actually. But who wanted to look the way people looked? Or behave the way they behaved?
Was Harrow like this? Or Concerning the Future of Souls? I don't remember.
Somehow I'm able to chuckle through the unhappy characters and dead-end towns. "My First Car":
I considered the possibility that they were going to leave me here, that this would be my life now, in this listing, stilling trailer, my journey interrupted. Easy as that, the exchange. It would be years before I could bewitch another to take my place. By then I would have forgotten that it was even possible.
Before that, they were bemoaning the death of the Great Barrier Reef.
The stories are not just funny, of course. Williams as always quietly empathizes with her characters and their unfortunate situations. But when you're stuck in a lot of shit, you have to find ways to laugh and soldier on.
November 26, 2025
Weird, wonderful stories. Entirely what you’d expect from Joy Williams.
October 30, 2025
It feels like not liking Joy Williams is punishable by death in the literary community. Well, so be it, I guess, because not a single story in this collection has stuck with me.
The last story is straight-up Baba Yaga fantasy and I would have enjoyed it more if it wasn't so jarring jumping from a slosh of ordinary stories into this one.
Maybe I just "don't get it", and that's fine with me.
Thank you Knopf for the early review copy.
The last story is straight-up Baba Yaga fantasy and I would have enjoyed it more if it wasn't so jarring jumping from a slosh of ordinary stories into this one.
Maybe I just "don't get it", and that's fine with me.
Thank you Knopf for the early review copy.
June 3, 2025
Joy cannot write anything bad.
October 28, 2025
4.5/5
Joy Williams is one of the most distinctive writers I’ve ever read, and The Pelican Child is only further confirmation of her singular talent. This is my fourth book by Williams, and I found myself completely absorbed by the strangeness and beauty of these stories. Death is everywhere in this collection; every story reeks of it. And Williams’s style is uncompromising, ruthless, and beautifully surreal. Her sentences are meticulously crafted, emerging from the texture of their surroundings like a sudden epiphany. I love her ability to tap into the more esoteric and sacred side of life, and just as readily venture back into the dirt and grit of reality. I kept highlighting passages, moved as I was by the rhythm and cadence of her language, the musicality of her phrasing.
Williams writes from a place of unshakable moral clarity. She is merciless in her vision of humanity’s future, very clearly expressing her disgust at humanity’s cruelty and greed. The tone often feels heavy and pessimistic, with stories populated by characters who seem to read signs of doom that no one else can see. But they often have a bit of humor beneath the despair, a sense that, despite everything, life remains ridiculous enough to laugh at. Many deal with the loss of innocence, especially through the recurring image of dead or dying children (I was a little taken aback by how many dead children there are in this collection)—symbols, perhaps, of what’s irretrievably lost in all of us.
If some stories feel a bit overworked or on the nose, I didn’t mind. The collection as a whole feels remarkably cohesive. Everything is connected by a shared vision of death, grief, and the rituals surrounding both. Williams’s worldview is bleak and terrifying, but it is expressed with clarity and honesty, and is undeniably stellar. This is one of the most unique and haunting collections I’ve read in a long time.
Joy Williams is one of the most distinctive writers I’ve ever read, and The Pelican Child is only further confirmation of her singular talent. This is my fourth book by Williams, and I found myself completely absorbed by the strangeness and beauty of these stories. Death is everywhere in this collection; every story reeks of it. And Williams’s style is uncompromising, ruthless, and beautifully surreal. Her sentences are meticulously crafted, emerging from the texture of their surroundings like a sudden epiphany. I love her ability to tap into the more esoteric and sacred side of life, and just as readily venture back into the dirt and grit of reality. I kept highlighting passages, moved as I was by the rhythm and cadence of her language, the musicality of her phrasing.
Williams writes from a place of unshakable moral clarity. She is merciless in her vision of humanity’s future, very clearly expressing her disgust at humanity’s cruelty and greed. The tone often feels heavy and pessimistic, with stories populated by characters who seem to read signs of doom that no one else can see. But they often have a bit of humor beneath the despair, a sense that, despite everything, life remains ridiculous enough to laugh at. Many deal with the loss of innocence, especially through the recurring image of dead or dying children (I was a little taken aback by how many dead children there are in this collection)—symbols, perhaps, of what’s irretrievably lost in all of us.
If some stories feel a bit overworked or on the nose, I didn’t mind. The collection as a whole feels remarkably cohesive. Everything is connected by a shared vision of death, grief, and the rituals surrounding both. Williams’s worldview is bleak and terrifying, but it is expressed with clarity and honesty, and is undeniably stellar. This is one of the most unique and haunting collections I’ve read in a long time.
November 16, 2025
Titular story . Subversive fairy tale where a famous witch and her animals have subtlety and agency and the heroic male is revealed as less than ...
February 13, 2026
Joy Williams still has it—and I think she deserves a Nobel for it, too.
December 30, 2025
A few of the early stories border on sketches, but the most substantial pieces here (“Nettle”, Chaunt”, “My First Car”, and “The Beach House” particularly) are among the finest she’s ever written, bar none. It is a book without hope or even consolation—she has never been more misanthropic and apocalyptic than in her recent work—but the lucidity of her language and the minor beauties it is able to salvage from the destruction are, as always, ineffably moving.
December 25, 2025
Here are 12 very different stories which border on being aplocalyptic and yet humanity scrambles on; natural and constructed landscapes are gradually collapsing amongst their unknowing inhabitants.
The beginning story sets the tone well. Flour concerns a journey with no destination, of someone wealthy enough not to work, although the details are unspecific enough to defy reference. 'The driver and I got a late start.' it begins. Its immediately compelling, both from curiosity's sake, and the element of the surreal that surrounds it.
It continues with Stuff, one my favourites, though there are few duds here. Henry, a well-meaning but talentless journalist, visits the doctor where he is told he has lung cancer. Although there’s been a mistake, the doctor having read from the wrong file belonging to an older patient, 'You have lung cancer as well, a bit more advanced, actually,' the doctor tells him. 'Sorry about the mix-up.' Henry changes the topic, trying to ignore the doctor's words, asking if he will waive the parking fee before admitting 'if the recently condemned weren’t required to pay their fair share, the lot would bring in no money at all.' In the world Williams is describing, the parking lot takes precedence.
There is great variety though, some of the stories are more grounded, for example, My First Car and The Beach House.
In My First Car, the protagonist, a motel clerk named Cinnabar, works at an infant daycare for a week while the owner takes a sabbatical to pray for the children's health. A key detail concerns Cinnabar driving her Oldsmobile, she refuses to use the indictators, saying, 'Why should I show Death where I'm going.'
George and Susan and Nettle though, read more like ghost stories, though by no means the traditional type. In Nettle, the protagonist Willie, a grown man, is still caught in the emotional landscape of his childhood, navigating his world with his late father. In George and Susan the ghost of George, who never set foot in the USA in life, is on a pilgrimage to Susan Sontag's childhood home in Arizona.
This is my first experience of reading Williams, and I enjoyed it greatly - I will be back for more. I prefer her more surreal stories, of which there are plenty, they have just that touch of dark humour to them that really appeals to my rather strange tastes..
The beginning story sets the tone well. Flour concerns a journey with no destination, of someone wealthy enough not to work, although the details are unspecific enough to defy reference. 'The driver and I got a late start.' it begins. Its immediately compelling, both from curiosity's sake, and the element of the surreal that surrounds it.
It continues with Stuff, one my favourites, though there are few duds here. Henry, a well-meaning but talentless journalist, visits the doctor where he is told he has lung cancer. Although there’s been a mistake, the doctor having read from the wrong file belonging to an older patient, 'You have lung cancer as well, a bit more advanced, actually,' the doctor tells him. 'Sorry about the mix-up.' Henry changes the topic, trying to ignore the doctor's words, asking if he will waive the parking fee before admitting 'if the recently condemned weren’t required to pay their fair share, the lot would bring in no money at all.' In the world Williams is describing, the parking lot takes precedence.
There is great variety though, some of the stories are more grounded, for example, My First Car and The Beach House.
In My First Car, the protagonist, a motel clerk named Cinnabar, works at an infant daycare for a week while the owner takes a sabbatical to pray for the children's health. A key detail concerns Cinnabar driving her Oldsmobile, she refuses to use the indictators, saying, 'Why should I show Death where I'm going.'
George and Susan and Nettle though, read more like ghost stories, though by no means the traditional type. In Nettle, the protagonist Willie, a grown man, is still caught in the emotional landscape of his childhood, navigating his world with his late father. In George and Susan the ghost of George, who never set foot in the USA in life, is on a pilgrimage to Susan Sontag's childhood home in Arizona.
This is my first experience of reading Williams, and I enjoyed it greatly - I will be back for more. I prefer her more surreal stories, of which there are plenty, they have just that touch of dark humour to them that really appeals to my rather strange tastes..
January 16, 2026
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Als je in pure verwarring wilt zitten, pak dit boek op! De verhalen zijn te kort om duidelijkheid te scheppen (en heel eerlijk heb ik de laatste 2 overgeslagen).
Als je in pure verwarring wilt zitten, pak dit boek op! De verhalen zijn te kort om duidelijkheid te scheppen (en heel eerlijk heb ik de laatste 2 overgeslagen).
January 17, 2026
Great. Just about as good as The Visiting Privilege. Weird enough to be weird, but normal and plausible… as the spectrum of life often is.
Read
January 6, 2026no one makes me feel existential dread like joy williams!
fav stories: chaunt, stuff, after the haiku period, baba iaga and the pelican child
fav stories: chaunt, stuff, after the haiku period, baba iaga and the pelican child
January 19, 2026
Always a pleasure to read Williams.
October 9, 2025
I adore short stories, and I especially adore strange short stories. That’s exactly what you’ll find here, and some of these are absolute gems. Williams’ writing is impeccable, and her stories draw the reader deeply into their surreal spaces. My favorites were Chaunt, which features, among numerous interesting facets, a mysterious un-town visited frequently by two young boys; Argos, which is brief and perfect; and Baba Iaga & The Pelican Child, which scratched my insatiable itch for good fairytales.
That said, this book and I initially got off on the wrong foot with the first two stories, which I did not enjoy. I would encourage anyone that is turned off by the beginning of this collection to press on.
My ratings by story:
Flour - 2.0
Stuff - 2.5
The Fellow - 3.0
Nettle - 3.5
George & Susan - 4.0
After the Haiku Period - 4.0
Chaunt - 5.0
My First Car - 3.5
Argos - 5.0
Chicken Hill - 4.0
The Beach House - 4.0
Baba Iaga & The Pelican Child - 4.5
Thank you to Knopf, Joy Williams, and NetGalley for this eARC. All opinions are my own.
That said, this book and I initially got off on the wrong foot with the first two stories, which I did not enjoy. I would encourage anyone that is turned off by the beginning of this collection to press on.
My ratings by story:
Flour - 2.0
Stuff - 2.5
The Fellow - 3.0
Nettle - 3.5
George & Susan - 4.0
After the Haiku Period - 4.0
Chaunt - 5.0
My First Car - 3.5
Argos - 5.0
Chicken Hill - 4.0
The Beach House - 4.0
Baba Iaga & The Pelican Child - 4.5
Thank you to Knopf, Joy Williams, and NetGalley for this eARC. All opinions are my own.
October 5, 2025
I love weird short stories, and those that play with speculative elements or folklore all the more. But I’m not going to lie to you, this collection was not for me.
Joy Williams is a literary giant and so clearly, her work is technically impressive. But I fear she is too smart for me, and not in a way that inspired me to slow down and puzzle it out. Most of these stories all end before they’ve begun, to the point where it begins to feel like a gimmick, and in a way that left me feeling like I had no idea what they were about, much less what the collection overall was meant to do (all of the stories have been previously published elsewhere, so maybe nothing). And the problem was, I just didn’t care enough to try to figure it out.
Also? Sooooo many pretentious SAT words.
Anyway, it sounds like I hated this book, when really it just annoyed me, because it feels like one of those collections (and National Book Award nominations, ope) that is more about the author’s age and bibliography.
Joy Williams is a literary giant and so clearly, her work is technically impressive. But I fear she is too smart for me, and not in a way that inspired me to slow down and puzzle it out. Most of these stories all end before they’ve begun, to the point where it begins to feel like a gimmick, and in a way that left me feeling like I had no idea what they were about, much less what the collection overall was meant to do (all of the stories have been previously published elsewhere, so maybe nothing). And the problem was, I just didn’t care enough to try to figure it out.
Also? Sooooo many pretentious SAT words.
Anyway, it sounds like I hated this book, when really it just annoyed me, because it feels like one of those collections (and National Book Award nominations, ope) that is more about the author’s age and bibliography.
January 9, 2026
I received a gift card for Christmas that required me to go into a bookstore, so I picked this book up on a table surrounded by the new Danielewski (have it), Pynchon (have enough unread of his), and Rushdie (Grimus at some point). This edition, while ultimately unimportant to me, was a signed edition. There was a blurb talking about her and Gaddis, and I remember the intro in JR, but I do not remember anything about what she wrote. Anyway.
"Nothing alarms the monied class more than a powerful sense of guilt" (69).
The Pelican Child is a collection about dogs, sadness, death, and a little bit about the color yellow. The favorites of mine are Stuff (protagonist finds out he has lung cancer and the ripple effect that follows), George & Susan (a dead person obsessed with Susan Sontag, who is also dead), After the Haiku Period (Old money twins who studied Issa), Chicken Hill (Kids are dying around the protagonist and there is a fond remembrance on said hill), and The Beach House (middle aged daughter fighting to keep a rundown beach house while nonplussed brother and schizo father try to sell it).
There are themes of change and references to the "good old days," while implying they were never really that good. It's overall lovely.
If I ever decide to write short stories, I will reference this and Flannery O'Connor structurally.
"Nothing alarms the monied class more than a powerful sense of guilt" (69).
The Pelican Child is a collection about dogs, sadness, death, and a little bit about the color yellow. The favorites of mine are Stuff (protagonist finds out he has lung cancer and the ripple effect that follows), George & Susan (a dead person obsessed with Susan Sontag, who is also dead), After the Haiku Period (Old money twins who studied Issa), Chicken Hill (Kids are dying around the protagonist and there is a fond remembrance on said hill), and The Beach House (middle aged daughter fighting to keep a rundown beach house while nonplussed brother and schizo father try to sell it).
There are themes of change and references to the "good old days," while implying they were never really that good. It's overall lovely.
If I ever decide to write short stories, I will reference this and Flannery O'Connor structurally.
January 12, 2026
My 4th joy williams and second favourite next to Harrow.
I think she’s a genius and The Best Writer of contemporary fiction I’ve read hands down. I will probably spend the next five years trying & failing to copy her.
Stories I’ll return to: After the Haiku Period; George and Susan; My First Car; Baba Iaga & The Pelican Child.
I think she’s a genius and The Best Writer of contemporary fiction I’ve read hands down. I will probably spend the next five years trying & failing to copy her.
Stories I’ll return to: After the Haiku Period; George and Susan; My First Car; Baba Iaga & The Pelican Child.
December 10, 2025
4/10.
When I read short story anthologies, I usually review and comment on each story separately. It isn't worth the time or effort to do so this time. I took a chance on The Pelican Child entirely based on its name and the beautiful cover, and I was looking to read some short stories as a palate cleanser. What I had hoped would be a pleasant, charming set of stories turned out to be a soulless slog. I can't think of the last time reading so little felt like it demanded so much. The stories in this book are full of miserable people being unkind and cynical while very little of interest happens. If you enjoy spending time in nursing homes and gross motels with the sick, the dying, the suicidal, the cynical, and the entitled, then maybe these vignettes are for you.
When I got to the final story in the book, the titular "Baba Iaga & The Pelican Child" I was pleasantly surprised that there was finally a sprinkle of narrative and fantasy, but even then the story just devolves into randomness. Willaims' stories tend to just zig-zag all over the place and trick you into thinking there's some hidden meaning beneath all the grumbling. If there is, I really didn't see it.
When I read short story anthologies, I usually review and comment on each story separately. It isn't worth the time or effort to do so this time. I took a chance on The Pelican Child entirely based on its name and the beautiful cover, and I was looking to read some short stories as a palate cleanser. What I had hoped would be a pleasant, charming set of stories turned out to be a soulless slog. I can't think of the last time reading so little felt like it demanded so much. The stories in this book are full of miserable people being unkind and cynical while very little of interest happens. If you enjoy spending time in nursing homes and gross motels with the sick, the dying, the suicidal, the cynical, and the entitled, then maybe these vignettes are for you.
When I got to the final story in the book, the titular "Baba Iaga & The Pelican Child" I was pleasantly surprised that there was finally a sprinkle of narrative and fantasy, but even then the story just devolves into randomness. Willaims' stories tend to just zig-zag all over the place and trick you into thinking there's some hidden meaning beneath all the grumbling. If there is, I really didn't see it.
December 31, 2025
⭐️⭐️ 2/5. This was just too experimental and weird, even for me!
THE PELICAN CHILD: STORIES by Joy Williams published November 18, 2025
compared with
NORTH SUN: OR, THE VOYAGE OF THE WHALESHIP ESTHER by Ethan Rutherford published 2025
Two National Book Award Nominees! Two books with birds on the cover! And two books that were just ok for me. Both were intriguing and unusual and while neither book ultimately worked for me, I love that the @nationalbookfoundation judges chose such stylistically bold works, and I would not hesitate to read more by these authors in the future.
PELICAN feels like a book for someone who already knows and loves Joy Williams. As a newbie to her work, the collection was just too random and weird for me. If a character is behaving strangely, I want to eventually understand why or at least be able to develop a theory, but I need a couple of bread crumbs in order to play detective. Williams can definitely write and she’s funny. But I was lost! Thank you to @aaknopf for the ARC.
NORTH SUN started off incredibly strong but lost my attention around the halfway mark. The POV shifted from the captain to a variety of characters (too many perhaps?) and we never really returned to the captain. In fact, a lot of plot points were introduced that were never resolved, there was a LOT of symbolism that felt thrown in, and the ending lacked the oomph it needed to be successful after such a long buildup. Barack Obama put NORTH SUN on his list of best reads of the year. Reading is so subjective!
Did anyone else read a book this year that others loved that didn’t quite land for you?
THE PELICAN CHILD: STORIES by Joy Williams published November 18, 2025
compared with
NORTH SUN: OR, THE VOYAGE OF THE WHALESHIP ESTHER by Ethan Rutherford published 2025
Two National Book Award Nominees! Two books with birds on the cover! And two books that were just ok for me. Both were intriguing and unusual and while neither book ultimately worked for me, I love that the @nationalbookfoundation judges chose such stylistically bold works, and I would not hesitate to read more by these authors in the future.
PELICAN feels like a book for someone who already knows and loves Joy Williams. As a newbie to her work, the collection was just too random and weird for me. If a character is behaving strangely, I want to eventually understand why or at least be able to develop a theory, but I need a couple of bread crumbs in order to play detective. Williams can definitely write and she’s funny. But I was lost! Thank you to @aaknopf for the ARC.
NORTH SUN started off incredibly strong but lost my attention around the halfway mark. The POV shifted from the captain to a variety of characters (too many perhaps?) and we never really returned to the captain. In fact, a lot of plot points were introduced that were never resolved, there was a LOT of symbolism that felt thrown in, and the ending lacked the oomph it needed to be successful after such a long buildup. Barack Obama put NORTH SUN on his list of best reads of the year. Reading is so subjective!
Did anyone else read a book this year that others loved that didn’t quite land for you?
January 2, 2026
"What is important is the quality of the emptiness she eventually discovers," he agrees. "And that is what is so difficult to suggest."
Starts off unassuming (but expectedly great, of course) and just continually builds and builds upon itself and centers a gradual expansion of thematic and prosaic weight to the point where by the end, it almost feels kind of like Williams' ultimate authorial thesis statement. I say that with hesitance ofc because every single work of hers occupies such an important and equally self-assured space in her overall literary universe, and nothing in her bibliography can be broadly upstaged in overall importance by another piece of it, but as a single work this feels like a potential capstone, somehow just as much if not more than Harrow. Williams goes fully in, more pointedly than ever, on our anthropocentric pursuit of wasteful excess and its cosmic consequences and humanity's refusal to meet with the world we have upturned, and especially the subjectivities within the animal world, which we have arbitrarily separated ourselves from in the name of a promise we can hardly remember. Stories like "After the Haiku Period", "Chicken Hill" and the titular tale (an incredible little slice of pure phantasia, rare for Williams) see the author convey her sentence-crafting mastery and polemic viciousness to an effect of narrative catharsis and moral evisceration of her subjects matched only in intensity and momentum by the best Flannery O'Connor stories. But Williams' writing is hers and hers alone - funny in spite of (and because) of her rage and ruthlessness, intensely atmospheric and imaginatively stirring, deeply attuned to the beingness and subjectivities of even the characters she morally dismantles until they (figuratively and sometimes literally) disappear, and not a word of razor-sharp prose wasted, with sentences that maximize the poetic and emotional potential in sentences so blunt and pointed. I don't know if this will be Williams' last run, and I hope it isn't given how prolific she's been recently, but she's already given us more incredible art than almost anyone else does in a lifetime, so if this is the end then it's as fitting and perfectly unsettling a place to leave us as I would expect from her.
Starts off unassuming (but expectedly great, of course) and just continually builds and builds upon itself and centers a gradual expansion of thematic and prosaic weight to the point where by the end, it almost feels kind of like Williams' ultimate authorial thesis statement. I say that with hesitance ofc because every single work of hers occupies such an important and equally self-assured space in her overall literary universe, and nothing in her bibliography can be broadly upstaged in overall importance by another piece of it, but as a single work this feels like a potential capstone, somehow just as much if not more than Harrow. Williams goes fully in, more pointedly than ever, on our anthropocentric pursuit of wasteful excess and its cosmic consequences and humanity's refusal to meet with the world we have upturned, and especially the subjectivities within the animal world, which we have arbitrarily separated ourselves from in the name of a promise we can hardly remember. Stories like "After the Haiku Period", "Chicken Hill" and the titular tale (an incredible little slice of pure phantasia, rare for Williams) see the author convey her sentence-crafting mastery and polemic viciousness to an effect of narrative catharsis and moral evisceration of her subjects matched only in intensity and momentum by the best Flannery O'Connor stories. But Williams' writing is hers and hers alone - funny in spite of (and because) of her rage and ruthlessness, intensely atmospheric and imaginatively stirring, deeply attuned to the beingness and subjectivities of even the characters she morally dismantles until they (figuratively and sometimes literally) disappear, and not a word of razor-sharp prose wasted, with sentences that maximize the poetic and emotional potential in sentences so blunt and pointed. I don't know if this will be Williams' last run, and I hope it isn't given how prolific she's been recently, but she's already given us more incredible art than almost anyone else does in a lifetime, so if this is the end then it's as fitting and perfectly unsettling a place to leave us as I would expect from her.
January 22, 2026
Joy Williams continues to amaze me. I've enjoyed all the novels I've read from her so far, but there's something about the moodiness, cryptic esotericism, and dark, absurd hilarity of her style that fits particularly well to the medium of the short story, and this collection made me suspect that's the mode in which I love her most.
It's so hard to express what it is about her prose that makes it pop, but if I have anything to express about this collection it's that. I read my library's copy, so I couldn't mark up my favorite passages--the ones which might be able to dig to the root of it--but I've decided to do a dumb, gimmicky thing for this review where I choose a random page from a number generator and see what pops out at me.
p. 124, "Chicken Hill"
"Can I see your dogs?"
"Not today," Ruth said.
"Thomas Aquinas said that friendship between humans and animals is impossible."
"That's idiotic. I've never heard of anything more ridiculous."
"What could he have been thinking, right?" The child was hunched into her backpack again. "Once you're dead, you shoudn't be read."
"Well, I wouldn't go that far," Ruth said.
Favorite stories included:
"Stuff"
"Nettle"
"After the Haiku Period"
and "Baba Iaga & The Pelican Child."
4.5
It's so hard to express what it is about her prose that makes it pop, but if I have anything to express about this collection it's that. I read my library's copy, so I couldn't mark up my favorite passages--the ones which might be able to dig to the root of it--but I've decided to do a dumb, gimmicky thing for this review where I choose a random page from a number generator and see what pops out at me.
p. 124, "Chicken Hill"
"Can I see your dogs?"
"Not today," Ruth said.
"Thomas Aquinas said that friendship between humans and animals is impossible."
"That's idiotic. I've never heard of anything more ridiculous."
"What could he have been thinking, right?" The child was hunched into her backpack again. "Once you're dead, you shoudn't be read."
"Well, I wouldn't go that far," Ruth said.
Favorite stories included:
"Stuff"
"Nettle"
"After the Haiku Period"
and "Baba Iaga & The Pelican Child."
4.5
November 28, 2025
Are there better Joy Williams collections? Yes. Will the worst story in this collection easily rank in the 90th percentile of stories you’re ever going to read? Also yes.
“Stuff” is top shelf JW, stands right up against anything she’s ever done. “George and Susan” and “The Beach House” were also pretty wonderful, but for me the two other big highlights are the short animal pieces: “Argos” which seemed to me something akin to a eulogy for all dogs forgotten or loved, and the titular final story, a fairy tale shot through with the sad strangeness or strange sadness JW does better than just about anyone on earth. I’m always amazed by the obliqueness of her wit and her politics, her funhouse sentences (“St Boniface Episcopal was a restaurant now.”) and her plotless stories that twist from funny to sad to transcendent on a dime without losing their narrative propulsion or incredible vitality. Her love of animals and her constant consideration of their complexity, their suffering, and their joy never ceases to impress and affect me.
“Stuff” is top shelf JW, stands right up against anything she’s ever done. “George and Susan” and “The Beach House” were also pretty wonderful, but for me the two other big highlights are the short animal pieces: “Argos” which seemed to me something akin to a eulogy for all dogs forgotten or loved, and the titular final story, a fairy tale shot through with the sad strangeness or strange sadness JW does better than just about anyone on earth. I’m always amazed by the obliqueness of her wit and her politics, her funhouse sentences (“St Boniface Episcopal was a restaurant now.”) and her plotless stories that twist from funny to sad to transcendent on a dime without losing their narrative propulsion or incredible vitality. Her love of animals and her constant consideration of their complexity, their suffering, and their joy never ceases to impress and affect me.
February 1, 2026
Joy Williams’ world is magnificent, desolate, and deeply frightening, like a desert flooded with blazing light. It speaks directly to us as inhabitants of a planet on the brink of ecological collapse, cobbling together a threadbare philosophy of survival from mismatched scraps — a kind of kitchen-sink apocalypticism — while inflicting untold suffering on most other life forms around us. The book is filled with characters making their accommodations with death — its presence or its approach — and inventing their own wounded, yearning responses to that inexorable fact.
Look closely, though, and the landscape teems with messengers of wisdom and revolution: the eco-terrorist schoolgirl twins Candida and Camilla in "After the Haiku Period"; the girl with the pink backpack in "Chicken Hill"; Baba Iaga and her lamp "that illuminated the things people did not know or were reluctant or refused to understand"; and many others. Williams leaves it to us to decide whether these intercessors carry the promise of renewal, or are instead guiding us, gently, through the final passage.
Look closely, though, and the landscape teems with messengers of wisdom and revolution: the eco-terrorist schoolgirl twins Candida and Camilla in "After the Haiku Period"; the girl with the pink backpack in "Chicken Hill"; Baba Iaga and her lamp "that illuminated the things people did not know or were reluctant or refused to understand"; and many others. Williams leaves it to us to decide whether these intercessors carry the promise of renewal, or are instead guiding us, gently, through the final passage.
November 26, 2025
"That's good. That's perfect."
"I think so," he said.
I told the lovely person at Knopf I would write a goodreads review in exchange for an advanced copy of The Pelican Child. But I did not read the PDF she sent me, I just waited until I received the hard copy in the mail, the evening of its publication.
I don’t know how to write this without sounding insane so maybe it’s best to keep it short: Joy Williams makes me more attuned to the universe and in that way, maybe she is like a bodhisattva. Her stories transform every day, but more than that — her words, their individual presence, raise up off the page like pebbles to take as souvenirs. perfect, horse, unreal, astonished, screamed, perhaps. But unlike the stones that have dulled and died once removed from their stream in the story ‘The Fellow’, hers remain - glittering.
"I think so," he said.
I told the lovely person at Knopf I would write a goodreads review in exchange for an advanced copy of The Pelican Child. But I did not read the PDF she sent me, I just waited until I received the hard copy in the mail, the evening of its publication.
I don’t know how to write this without sounding insane so maybe it’s best to keep it short: Joy Williams makes me more attuned to the universe and in that way, maybe she is like a bodhisattva. Her stories transform every day, but more than that — her words, their individual presence, raise up off the page like pebbles to take as souvenirs. perfect, horse, unreal, astonished, screamed, perhaps. But unlike the stones that have dulled and died once removed from their stream in the story ‘The Fellow’, hers remain - glittering.
August 23, 2025
The Pelican Child by Joy Williams is a collection of stories not to miss. Narrated from a soul source of the ancient earth, you will be wrapped in a literary goosebump. Joy Williams’ vibe has a howling charm layered with tongue in cheek dark humour. I felt like I was listening to dark fairy tales around a German campfire with my great great grandfather in the old Neunstadt homestead. Just in time for me to learn these 11 stories by heart to retell spookily this Halloween. Put on your list to buy early so you will be ready for the 2026 spooky season - or practice during the spring and summer campfires that come before. Thank you NetGalley and the Publishers: Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor for this soon to be published ARC (November 18, 2025) . Unsettlingly delightful!
December 7, 2025
I don't think there's much here that can touch Williams' best work but that statement is more of a testament to her oeuvre than it is to the detriment of this book. Great, melancholy stories, that all hint at the interior worlds of others inaccessible to us all. Always read new Williams, one of our best living, working writers.
dnf
February 4, 2026DNF: I just am not enjoying this collection. It seems like the stories are all connected by the fact that the stories don’t seem to have a solid plot or make much sense - intentionally surreal but not well done. The characters had such weird, disjointed conversations. I just wasn’t feeling it so I stopped after the third story.
Date Stopped: 02/01/26
Date Stopped: 02/01/26
February 3, 2026
These are ghost stories, I think, but nobody recognizes ghosts here.
December 1, 2025
So good you'll even forgive her for writing another Gurdjieff story
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