Self Taut

Short stories get no respect.

For evidence, you need look no farther than that glowing Times review of "Twilight of the Superheroes."

Sure, Marcus called Eisenberg's stories "machines of perfect revelation deftly constructed by a contemporary master." But consider the condescension displayed (perhaps unintentionally) in his opening sentence: "Deborah Eisenberg offers commanding proof that in the right hands, the short story can be a legitimate art form, not just a test run for writers warming up to write a novel."

Can be a legitimate art form.

Please!

You can almost hear Anton Chekhov groaning in his grave.

"Isn't that something?" Eisenberg says -- but there's no anger in her voice. Sounding like a woman who has heard it all before, she points out that there exists an "inexhaustible supply" of similarly patronizing remarks. "The idea is: When are you going to grow up and really write something?"

It's an idea that leaves some short-fiction partisans gnashing their teeth.

A few years ago, Jonathan Franzen -- himself best known for a bulky novel, "The Corrections" -- wrote an impassioned Times Book Review piece arguing that Canadian short-story writer Alice Munro "has a strong claim to being the best fiction writer now working in North America." Among the obstacles to proper recognition of Munro's brilliance, Franzen wrote, is the fact that people such as former Book Review editor Charles McGrath go around comparing story writers to "people who learn golf by never venturing onto a golf course but instead practicing at a driving range." Worse, Franzen noted, "McGrath's prejudice is shared by nearly all commercial publishers."

Few in the business would disagree.

"Obviously, novels are more central in our culture," says D'Ambrosio's literary agent, Mary Evans. "They're easier to sell and they're easier to make a living from."

The question is: Why?