How Dirty Is Jayne Anne Phillips?

Abstract

Abstract This article reads two short story collections by Jayne Anne Phillips, Black Tickets (1979) and Fast Lanes (1987), in the context of competing definitions of dirty realism. It begins with an analysis of dirty bodies and locations in relation to issues of class, race, and illness, which is framed by Kristeva's formulation of the abject. Following this, the psychoanalytical self-consciousness of dirty realist fiction is explored through Phillips's preoccupation with dreams, the irrational, the family romance, and the maternal body. The essay concludes with a consideration of the critical significance of Phillips's repeated use of icons, images, and soundtracks from popular culture. There seems to be a consensus amongst critics of American short fiction that something happened in the late 1970s, a new school emerged with a distinctive style and set of preoccupations. This school, with Raymond Carver as head teacher, included amongst others, Bobbie Ann Mason, Richard Ford, Tobias Wolff, and Jayne Anne Phillips. Both individually and collectively these writers have been tagged with a variety of labels: 'dirty realism', the most conspicuous term, has been supplemented by 'new minimalist fiction', 'new realism', 'K-Mart realism', and 'dirty surrealism'.[1] The number of labels here suggests that whilst there is agreement on the fact that something happened to the American short story at this time, there is less unanimity on the precise nature of this happening. There have been at least five distinctive, though not necessarily exclusive, definitions associated with these labels. First, some critics have focused upon the class dimension to this fiction, its fascination for blue-collar lives. Secondly, there has been significant critical attention to the formal aspects of this fiction, especially its minimalist economy of expression. Thirdly, some critics, preferring the terms 'new realism' or 'K-Mart realism', have focused upon the relationship between this fiction and contemporary socioeconomic developments, in particular, developments in consumerism and postmodern culture. Fourthly, certain members of this school have been singled out for the alternative label of 'dirty surrealist', because of the psychoanalytical self-consciousness displayed in their work. Finally, some critics, focusing on sociopolitical history, have interpreted this fiction in relation to the rise of the New Right, reading it as a critique of the dominant discourses of Reagan's America, especially in relation to hegemonic definitions of gender and family. It is probably worth mentioning that, in some quarters, there have been vigorous challenges to the very concept of a dirty realist school. 'Dirty realism' has been dismissed as a marketing ploy by publishers to stimulate dwindling sales, especially in the UK, in contemporary American fiction. In this vein, Nick Hornby has described 'dirty realism' as an 'inadequate categorisation' that 'doesn't mean very much at all'.[2] In this paper I aim to explore some of the definitions paraphrased above and offer some of my own in relation to the work of Jayne Anne Phillips. In particular I want to examine various meanings of the 'dirt' in 'dirty realist' and whether it 'means very much at all' in relation to Phillips's two short story collections, Black Tickets (1979) and Fast Lanes (1987).[3] I I live in the gutters of dog manure, wine and urine; in the sewers which eat these melodies delivered by the sprays of sweeper trucks. ('Gemcrack', Black Tickets, p.255) So, how dirty is Jayne Anne Phillips? In a literal sense much of her short fiction is positively filthy: toilets seem to be a favourite location, with 'urinals rust-stained and scenting out a poison sweet of piss [. . .] reminding you of all your sick vomits' ('Black Tickets', Black Tickets, pp. 54, 56). Leaving the lavatory, Phillips's readers often find themselves in dilapidated motels, strip joints, and porn shops, rat-infested cinemas, dirt farms, and dusty border towns. …