George Saunders – Story Power

Category: George Saunders

The Fear of Judgement in Saunders vs. Camus

On October 27, 2025

Rereading Semplica Girl Diaries, it came to my attention that the narrator (father) and Meursault are polar opposites. While the narrator is obsessed with his social status and validation, Meursault is wildly authentic.

After previously describing the day he won the lottery as “the most incredible day ever”, he decides to purchase SGs with that money and goes on to say, “Finally can be like normal people. Finally not embarrassed when Lanes come over and see the yard”. His decision to spend an amount of money that he clearly considers to be a great deal on a lawn decoration for a boost in popularity clearly shows that the opinions of others are what he cares about most. When the SGs run away, rather than feeling remorseful or empathetic, he just thinks that the neighborhood will think they are losers because they can’t keep the SGs. He also becomes angry with his daughter Eva when he learns that she was the one who freed them. He can’t seem to understand her perspective, which is focused on morals. The only thing he can focus on is how he thinks his social status is going down the drain.

Meursault, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about the opinions of others. Even Marie, whom he is clearly interested in, though he tells her he doesn’t love her. Further showing that he speaks the truth even when it might not be the best thing for his likability or relationship. Meursault had many opportunities in court to fake emotion to make himself look better in court, which would have helped his trial, but he spoke nothing other than plain facts without any bias. Meursault does not feel the need to conform to anybody, not even himself. In a way, Meursault is free, and the narrator is the one with constraints, even though Meursault is awaiting the death penalty.

The Sun-Blinding Truth: A Study of Camus’ Stranger

By Naana S.

On October 24, 2025

In Albert Camus, Empathy, George Saunders, Power and Identity, Power of Stories/Storytelling, Stranger

What’s so beautiful about The Stranger is how it highlights societal treatment of those who are “out of the ordinary.” When introduced to the main character Meursault, the absolute first page talks about his lack of emotion towards his mothers death. It seems like a disturbance in his everyday routine of life besides what normally the actual person would be the disturbance. We are prompted to have a distaste in his representation in the book but in reality he is an ordinary guy. We all have different ways of dealing with things and like Meursault, I believe be bottles it up. His cool way viewing life can be mostly irritating to people as whenever someone keeps to themselves society shakes a little in its boots. His bottled up emotions “triggered by his environment” is what causes him to end up shooting an Arab and landing him in jail.

Meursault throughout his story meets numerous people and experiences numerous things. His reactions are to get irritated/annoyed or want to leave immediately. So I get the feeling of being automatically nudged to judge him as if we’re so much better. This reminds me of the short story Escape from Spiderhead by George Saunders. The characters were known to be killers and them going through experiments was kind of their way out. In there they are treated as less than human which justifies the more inhumane things that happened to them. We know throughout the story that the man (Abnesti) and the corporation that were supposed to be doing the good were actively doing bad. We even know in one scene Abnesti freaking out saying they are the monsters yet he allowed for people to die in his hands(his hands as he is the one with the “power”), control them (giving drugs for submission and pain) while having no empathy what so ever. Which brings to question, isn’t one of humans greatest gift to feel empathy, yet why are the ones labeled less than human the ones feeling the most empathetic. Sometimes that’s what society fails at, pushing our conditioned beliefs onto people and not helping people with no sense of judgement.

Final statement:

I love when writers allow the character to take control of their final moments. They don’t conform, or over step, their endings always end according to their own being.

Victory Lap’s Alison Pope and Her Relation to Jessica Benjamin’s Argument

By Maggie S

On October 10, 2025

In George Saunders, Jessica Benjamin, Mutual Recognition

Reading Jessica Benjamin’s introduction and conclusion of “Bonds of Love” caused me to really think deeply about the ways in which we as a society strengthen power dynamics rather than equality. Our discussions about binaries and power dynamics in class made me notice how many power dynamics are present in George Saunders’ “Victory Lap,” and having now read a taste of Benjamin’s argument, I found many parallels.

A very interesting point in Benjamin’s argument was the idea that some women reinforce their submissive status to men, which in turn hurts the feminist goal of equality between men and women. I saw this very clearly with the main character of “Victory Lap,” Alison Pope. She has a deep imagination, and she is in search of a prince so she can be the stereotypical, dainty princess: “Why are those supposed princes making that darling girl march in place ad nausea?” (page 4). Yet, after negatively describing kissing a local boy named Matt who “would not take no for an answer,” Alison thought, “What she liked was being in charge of her. Her body, her mind. Her thoughts, her career, her future” (page 7). I interpret this note as a statement against Matt’s control of her the night before, and I think it relates heavily with the control and superiority that men have over women in our society. I think it is very interesting that she stated she liked being in charge of her mind, however, because the scene of her as a princess meeting her prince in the ballroom seems to control her mind. She is actively stunting her independence from male control with this daydream, and it is situations like these that cause Benjamin to stress in “Bonds of Love” that there should not be one object and one subject in a relationship, but two subjects mutually recognizing one another as equal human beings.

Good Country People: Hulga… Joy?

By Ayanna I.

On September 28, 2025

In George Saunders, Jessica Benjamin

In Flannery O’Connor’s “Good Country People” we are introduced to the main character Hulga, who has a wooden leg due to a hunting accident from her childhood and also is very intelligent with a PhD in philosophy. At the beginning of the story we learn that her name was not always Hulga, but at one point her name was Joy.

Joy was the name given to her by her mother. Not only is Joy a beautiful name, but it is a noun used to describe happy emotions, displaying connotations of innocence and brightness. Compared to her mothers name choice, Hulga is a more straightforward and uncommon name, which is deliberately meant to be harsh and off-putting. This stuck out to me because it emphasized her attempts to reject her mothers attempts to give her a cheerful, feminine persona as she developed in life. The accident, and life through college was enough character development to embrace a persona that reflected how she felt as an act of rebellion.

In changing her name it also shows the pride she takes in her own character. With her PHD she see’s herself as superior to “good country people” and she wanted her name to set her apart from everyone else. Her name became a shield; a way for her to portray a different persona that is more rough and independent compared to the expectations people have for women. She didn’t want to be seen as weak or defined by the things she’d went through in life, so the name change represents her determination to take control of her own life and insecurities. Her openness and vulnerability towards Manly Pointer ultimately left the identity that she built for herself damaged, and brought her back to the persona she is trying to escape.

I think it was interesting how Hulga’s name change couldn’t change how she was perceived by others but, it gave her the comfort in being able to bury and dissociate from the past version of herself.

More Than Coffee: Race, Class, and Belonging

By Naana S.

On September 26, 2025

In Binaries, George Saunders, Mutual Recognition, Power and Identity, Power of Stories/Storytelling, Short Stories

This story is written in a way that gets you, from the superficial stance to dislike the main character, Dina. I feel the opposite though. ZZ Packer writes through Dina all the tension in repressing herself and her identity is right on track with what we experience as teens or young adults. I know it is said by George Saunders to not see oneself in the characters, but in each and every part of her experience prior to college I could understand how it shaped her. Her decision to say she would be a revolver should prove the destruction in her life. She is blunt and reclusive especially with Yale and Heidi. She is afraid of what people might think of her because of her food stamps and her neighborhood to the point where she runs away “I couldn’t tell him the rest: that I had not wanted the boy to walk me home, that I didn’t want someone with such nice shoes to see where I lived”(62). She’s unique in her love for poetry. Dina does a classic “I’m going to make fun of you before you get to make fun of me” situation in which every black person that has shown her any sort of respect, interest or connection she pushes it down. I mean her comments on how she felt “pitiful in how cool they were”(52) was very insecure and going into defense when nothing was attacking just proves the point in how real of a story ZZ Packer has made in this.

Throughout the story we talked about her relationship with Heidi, Yale, and her response to a bully but not enough about her parents. As we know Dina’s mother dies from kidney failure but we find out through Dina that her father was violent and she feels he caused her mothers death. We quickly get the binary between “father” and “dad” because she states “I hate the word Dad”(54). We then get to know about her mother who is kind and patient and has nurtured her the best she could. We get her reminiscing on her mother saying “…this is what happens when you’ve been around white people:things get weird”(67). These 2 people play a role in her internal struggles , alienation and detachment(as parents usually do) and have caused her to be vulnerable therefore making her age more quickly.

I do want to end off by saying some key points for me in the story:

1)She’s human she gets to make mistakes.

2)She’s stated she doesn’t really care for the relationship stuff so it’s valid for her to mess it up a couple of times.

3)The line “White people always say that about black people’s hair. The worse it looks, the more they say they like it”(67) has me rolling on the floor from how funny and true it is.

4) It’s okay Dina, I promise whenever you feel distant from other black people, let go of your judgement and embrace the warmth of having some black friends in which you can relate to.

5) Even in the BIG one-two college people still bully…gosh ATP it’s not even bullying anymore you’re just in love with them.

Not So Super Great SGs

By Matthew Y

On September 26, 2025

In George Saunders, Pride and Prejudice, Short Stories

In The Semplica Girl Diaries by George Saunders, SGs are a recurring topic interwoven into nearly every aspect of the book. Despite this, we never get a clear picture of what SGs really are. So, what are they?

The story takes place in a different world, yet it feels eerily similar to ours. The main difference is the technology created for SGs. SGs, or “Semplica Girls,” are this world’s wealth symbol: if you have one, you’re considered wealthy. SGs are real people, not robots. They are simply girls: one from Laos, Moldova, Kuwait, Somalia, and the Philippines (135, Tenth of December). These girls undergo a procedure that implants a microline into their heads so they can become lawn decorations.

In this world, the SGs are seen as “super great.” They provide a sense of wealth to those who want it most. But what isn’t so great is how the SGs are taken from their homes to be hung up on some American lawn. It dehumanizes them and can be compared to human trafficking.

The Semplica Girl Diaries idolizes these figures, and they are something the family desires in order to validate their own wealth. By hoping to climb the ranks of the social hierarchy, the family climbs their way up. In order for the family to do that, however, they must place the SGs below them. This idea can be seen almost everywhere: someone puts another down for their own personal gain.

The story of the not so super great SGs resembles a world not too far from our own. Of course, our world is not as inhumane, but it reveals our selfishness and the impact it has on society.

Mind-Boggled By Semplica Girls

By Ruby S

On September 25, 2025

In Empathy, George Saunders, Short Stories

I closed “The Semplica-Girl Diaries” and was met with more questions than answers, but that was the point.

The genius of this George Saunders short story, and all of his others, is that it transports the reader into a reality in which the mind of the reader can seamlessly believe based on the values pre-set for them by society. You read about a low income household with a dad who tries with all his might to make his children proud and happy – yeah, that’s what a dad should be doing. You read about a prisoner who is sentenced to being a subject in scientific trials as his punishment – yeah, criminals deserve retribution (“Escape From Spiderhead”). But then you are presented with the true, and often unsettling realities of those scenarios without having ever expected it.

Saunders’ stories delve into the flawed and twisted morals that have been normalized into nonissues by throwing questions at the reader, forcing them to reflect on why they believe the things, or behave the way they do.

Semplica Girls made me dig beneath the layers of my understanding of humanity. Take for instance lawn decorations, in this story presented as immigrant women getting paid to be strung up by their heads to beautify the homes of upper-middle class citizens. Gnomes, in our world, are common lawn decorations. Why gnomes? Aren’t they creepy little men with pointy hats and big red cheeks; who wants to have that greeting anyone who happens to walk by their house? Sure, those ornaments aren’t causing anyone physical and emotional harm like the ‘lawn decorations’ introduced to us in the short story, but still – why gnomes? The utter strangeness of everyday objects can be seen through a whole new set of eyes when presented with a completely unfathomable and made-up example of something perceived in an imagined world to have the same level of significance. It made me deeply reconsider the origins of our traditions, things, and values.

But I realized the message could go even deeper than that. The polarization and lack of nuance and discussion that is currently driving our country’s political and social spheres isn’t something that just happened to have spawned overnight – the United States political system as we know it today only exists as it does due to exploitation, racism, and greed. Those have been the major driving factors that have influenced an immeasurable amount of United States, not to mention global, history, and therefore current society.

I needed to take a second and fully come to terms with that, because how often do we observe the systems and foundations that we operate by while acknowledging all of the violence and injustices that have been committed as things to be taken for granted? I let myself bask in that overwhelming feeling because I believed it would allow me to form a more intense connection to my sense of humanity. I’m still coming to terms with this Saunders tale; my thoughts on it are frequently convoluted, yet I take my time processing and further analyzing the structures I encounter on a daily basis. Structures that could, in a far-off universe, appear entirely bizarre and inhumane. This frame of perception shapes how I interact with people, and it gives me the critical thinking I need in order to navigate the tumultuous and complex world I live in.

Inside the Geode

By Aleks L

On September 23, 2025

In George Saunders, Short Stories

In George Saunders’s “Victory Lap,” the moment Kyle throws the geode marks a major turning point, not just in the story’s action, but in Kyle’s personal transformation. Up until this moment, Kyle had been completely ruled by his parents’ obsessive rules. He thinks in checklists, questions every impulse, and stops himself from doing almost anything self-driven; however, when he sees Alison being attacked, something inside him breaks. The geode he throws becomes a symbol of not just an object used to stop the attacker, but a reflection of Kyle himself.

When the geode shatters, it reveals something beautiful inside, something that was hidden under pressure. That’s exactly what happened to Kyle. He finally stops asking, ‘Am I allowed?’ and instead asks, ‘What do I believe is right?’ Saunders writes that Kyle threw the geode with everything he had, which includes all his bottled-up instincts, anger, fear, and desire to act. Once doing it, he feels the state of being independent, stating, “Yes! Score! It was fun! Fun dominating a grown-up!” (22). Breaking a geode mirrors Kyle breaking the rules and, in doing so, finding the pretty inside that represents who he really is. His new self isn’t perfect, but it’s real, and it’s his. The inside of the geode shows that Kyle, all along, could make moral choices for himself, even under pressure.

The Old Blogs are Dead! Long Live the Old Blogs!

By Bernie H

On August 20, 2025

In Binaries, Course Stuff, Empathy, George Saunders, Imagination, Jessica Benjamin, Mutual Recognition, Power and Identity, Short Stories, Viet Thanh Nguyen, Vladimir Nabakov

At present, we use the Edublogs platform for our class blog, which is built on a WordPress platform — one of the most popular and robust web publishing platforms in the world. We had been using the WordPress.com platform directly for several years, and you can still wander around that old AP Lit blog.

For many years before that, we used the Blogger platform for the AP Lit blog, but it was a very limited and bug-ridden platform, and Google eventually stopped supporting it.

If you are interested, though, in seeing what those long-ago AP Lit students have been thinking and writing about, feel free to wander over to the old old AP Lit blog.

Once a Stranger

By Reese B

On May 21, 2025

In Albert Camus, Existentialism, George Saunders, King Lear

I died today.

Well I guess that’s not really true. At the very least, it’s quite misleading. See life, death, it’s all just a matter of perspective. It just depends where you’re looking from, and what the view is. From here, the view looks pretty damn amazing. I can see the flash of lightning, hear the crack of thunder, feel the air rushing past me, the rain against my face. Now this, this is the sensation that makes you forget where you are, what is happening, and crucially: who you were four hours ago. And that’s a good thing, because I really need to forget four hours ago. For the sake of the here and now, I wouldn’t be able to tell you what happened then. You know, because of the whole forgot who you were thing that I just said. But for the sake of the story, there’s so much you have to learn.

See, the night before had ended in a way that I’m not quite proud of. I’m not entirely sure if I’ve had a night I’m proud of in the last couple of years. But this one was especially poor. After what felt like the longest of days and the most unfortunate of nights. I found myself with little to protect me from the rain but an overpass. And not a particularly well built one either. But it was the one I had chosen to find a bit of comfort from the cold and damp world and it was where I chose to pretend to sleep. I say that I was pretending to sleep because that allows me to believe that where I was was in my control and what I was doing was in my control. In actuality, I was trying to sleep, but I couldn’t. I’m gonna make a wild guess and say that it was probably the bridge, it can’t be my fault. I was up and walking at 4. Pretending gets harder when the thunder starts to mumble.

But the rain hadn’t begun to hit just yet and I didn’t care that it was obvious it was about to. That and the fact that bridges aren’t as waterproof as once thought. Anyways, I walked along the road. I think at this point it was LeSalle Boulevard, or was it Wayne? I was looking for a place to eat some breakfast. I had this craving for some eggs. Like the eggs that I had had when I was 10, back on the farm. I’ve still never had eggs that taste like that. It was about 5 by the time that I was able to find some semblance of civilization. Then it took me another 15 minutes to find the church. I figure a church has to have some food for the weak and weary even though I had never stepped foot into a church before.

There was only one man in there. It seemed to me like he was whispering the sermon he would give later that night, which would make him the preacher. So I started a conversation with him. I asked him his name, “Lear,” he said. He looked to be on the older side, “91” was the answer when I asked him his age. And we began to talk. After about 15 minutes of talking, he offered me the breakfast that I had been looking for since I had woken up. But I didn’t want it anymore. In our conversation, I learned that he had cancer. The doctors had said that he had only a few months left to live. Now I had to learn how this man had come to terms with his life ending. I mean how can someone learn that they’re just going to stop living, allow everything to fade to black, and just stop being? Well that happens to everyone, but how could someone be okay with it?

I talked to the preacher for 2 more hours about his life. He told me about his daughters, his career, and his hobbies. I felt like this man’s life was flashing right in front of me. I learned about his love for fishing. He told me about all his great fishing stories- the bass, the marlin, the time that he spent a month straight on the boat. He had done everything he wanted and he disregarded the thoughts of society-something that I had not done yet, something I needed to do. I realized at that moment that I had somewhere to be. I thanked the preacher for the conversation and I told him that I had my own “fishing” stories to make, and I left.

I walked for 40 minutes to find the plane. It was now pouring rain, the storm had become volatile. I had never flown it before, but I knew it was there and I knew there was something I had to do. I walked into the cockpit to find the plane running, which was quite convenient. It occurred to me that I had never flown a plane, but it was time for me to make a choice that I would remember. Somehow, I was able to start the plane, but the rain in front of me was blinding while I was on the ground, so I began to move forward. I just drove to speed up as much as I could, I just continued to speed up. And suddenly, I found myself in the air. The sound of the engine was deafening, the only thing that broke it up was the thunder above-the thunder that I was heading towards the source of.

The plane continued to climb and the rain was no longer blocking my view. I looked down to see the beauty below. This was the life that I was looking for, the life that would allow me to die peacefully. See now, for those of you keeping track at home, it was 4 hours after the start of my day. This was the sensation and the feeling that allowed everything to fade away. But in a flash of light and one last mumble of thunder, the plane was split in two. It was a crash louder than I had ever heard and it was the brightest light that I had ever experienced in my life. I found it quite ironic that the brightest light was followed by such great darkness. This darkness was one that I could not see past. I found myself in the moment that I had dreaded and avoided my entire life. I spent my life incredibly scared of this, but here I was now, with no worries or doubts about my future. I was finally fulfilled.

In my mind I could see myself falling to my demise, but the darkness that filled my eyes remained. But this was my chance to finally open my eyes. And for one last second I was able to open my eyes and feel the ground approaching faster than I could possibly fathom.

The Characters in “The Tenth of December”

By Reese B

On September 27, 2024

In George Saunders, Short Stories

When I read the “Tenth of December”, the first thing that jumps out to me is the complexity of the characters. We are told very little about the main characters, Robin and Eber but we can learn so much through their thoughts in this one moment of their lives. We learn a lot about Eber’s past because he wants to move on. I think that Eber is looking back on his life so much because for most of the story he feels as though this is its end and he can’t help but reminisce.

I don’t think Eber looks back on his life poorly, he seems to remember many of the people that he loved. But he is scared of being viewed poorly by them. He doesn’t want his loved ones to see him suffer in any way because he fears that will make him like Allen, or make like “that”. Eber is scared of judgment and doesn’t let them help him, he shows this by revealing when he hits a tree in the woods, “He hadn’t cried after the surgeries or during the chemo, but he felt like crying now”(231). This was surely not the most pain that Eber had undergone but he felt like crying and was able to cry if he wanted to because he was free of the judgment of anyone else and almost free from his own judgment of himself.

The hidden character in the story is the winter weather. It sets the whole story in motion. The best way to describe the winter would be unforgiving or harsh, it is an obstacle for the characters to overcome. But it is what propels the characters to help each other. The winter weather reflects the lives of the two main characters. Robin doesn’t admit to seeing his life as a struggle but he realizes it in some ways. Eber has accepted the harsh realities of his life. Both of these are reflected in the weather on that day.

Letting Go

By Alana G

On September 25, 2024

In George Saunders

I read “Sticks” in George Saunders’ Tenth of December before class one day because it was an extremely short story. Consisting of two paragraphs and barely taking up two pages, many would think it lacks meaning. I definitely did not think it would be as thought-provoking as it was.

In whole, the story demonstrates how something important to you can be totally meaningless to someone else. The story centers around a child’s view of their father and a cross-shaped pole in their front lawn that he decorates for holidays and other events. It is clear that he cares tremendously about this pole but even his own children don’t understand his obsession. He gave his time and energy to the decorating the pole even as he grew old and sick. Once he dies and the house is sold, the new owners take out the pole and leave it on the side of the road. Even though the pole was possibly the most important thing in his life, from a different perspective it is trash. It is a hard lesson to accept because it can seem unimaginable for something so vital in our life to be nothing to someone else but the truth is, most of the things we care about don’t mean anything to others.

Additionally, the father’s habit of being stingy (and his later regret of it) tie into his obsession with the pole. Both infatuations are not beneficial for him: his stinginess and resultant cruelty and restriction create tension in his relationships with his children and decorating the pole consumes him more and more. I believe this can be translated into everyday life by comparing it to negative feelings we hold on to. Getting a bad grade on a test or not performing well in a sport are negative things that many people tend to hold onto and obsess over. However, in the end holding onto these feelings only ends in two ways: regret or the eventual realization that it doesn’t matter. This short story teaches us through the father’s mistakes and experiences that we must let go of the things that do not benefit us.

Letting Dead Dogs Lie

By Calum

On September 24, 2024

In George Saunders, Short Stories, Uncategorized

George Saunders’ Puppy is a heartbreaking tale of what it means to love, shown through the comparison of what two mothers do for their children. The way this is accomplished is simple, with a classic juxtaposition of the wealthy, generous mother and the poor mother who does everything she can for her children.

This itself wouldn’t be anything special, until Saunders brought in the puppy. A wide-eyed, tail-wagging symbol of innocence promised from the poor mother to the generous mother’s children, another gift to satisfy their hunger. The generous mother maintains that her generosity is love; the truest form of showing her children that she cares about her.

Nobody wants to see a puppy die, so when we learn that the adoption of this puppy is the only thing keeping it from being euthanized, we need this puppy to live. We need the generous mother to carry out the adoption so the children are satisfied so the puppy is okay. The puppy momentarily distracts from the people in the story we had initially cared about, the poor mother and her child.

The poor mother then says that she’s finally fixed it, and we learn that it is controlling her son Bo, a boy with a cognitive disability who she has been trying to find a way to keep in one place so he doesn’t run away across the highway again. We don’t have time to know what this perfect solution is before the generous mother pulls up, ready to adopt the puppy, to save it from from its fate.

The generous mother is shocked, appalled, even offended by the squalor of the poor mother’s house. She asks her children not to touch anything, lest they be infected by the poverty that suffuses the house. She then briefly peers out the blinds, and we see the perfect solution that the poor mother has found: chaining her child to a tree.

She is shocked, declines to adopt in what must be her form of a punishment for the poor mother, gathers her children, and leaves that godforsaken place, wondering why these kinds of people can’t have any common decency. She thinks about calling her friend at Child Protective Services so she can set right this evil, neglectful, unfit mother and give her child to someone who could support him.

The poor mother looks out the same window, and delivers what is possibly the most touching passage of the whole book:

“Like Bo wasn’t perfect, but she loved him how he was and tried to help him get better. If they could keep him safe, maybe he’d mellow out as he got older. If he mellowed out, maybe he could someday have a family. Like there he was now in the yard, sitting quietly, looking at flowers. Tapping with his bat, happy enough. He looked up, waved the bat at her, gave her that smile. Yesterday he’d been stuck in the house, all miserable. He’d ended the day screaming in bed, so frustrated. Today he was looking at flowers. Who was it that thought up that idea, the idea that had made today better than yesterday? Who loved him enough to think that up? Who loved him more than anyone else in the world loved him?

“Her.

“She did.”

And the dog dies.

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