Eisenberg's shorts certainly are salient
I've always thought short stories were just something novelists did to pass the time. They express a creative urge, certainly, but nothing epic -- if the writer just eats a cookie, I imagine the urge will subside. To put it simply, when reading "The New Yorker," I skim the short stories and scavenge for the cartoons.
It took Deborah Eisenberg's new collection, "The Twilight of the Superheroes," to set me right. In this slim volume, the sly Eisenberg, who limits herself to short stories, does her genre ample justice.
If this is uncanny, it's because in Eisenberg's warped...
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