'The Take' and 'The Left and the Lucky' explore peculiar friendships across age

Kelly Yang and Ailsa Chang explore how age shapes women’s paths to authority, recognition, and opportunity, often through gatekeeping, intergenerational competition, and the struggle between relevance and acceptance.

Older Women's Gatekeeping Challenges Younger Women Entering Competitive Fields

Yang highlights a pervasive “have you paid your dues” culture among women in competitive fields, rooted in the struggles faced by previous generations. She explains that established women often impose arbitrary standards on younger women, insisting that suffering and significant life experience are prerequisites for being allowed to contribute. This mentality arises from older women’s own past hardships, leading to the belief that younger women need to endure similar challenges to earn their place.

Yang shares a personal example: at age 24, while standing in line to meet a famous writer, she nervously pitched her idea for a novel about her childhood. The writer asked Yang’s age and dismissed her, saying, “What could you possibly have to write about in your 20s?” Yang describes this as mortifying and says it set her back for years. She concludes that waiting for permission from an older woman, or a nod from someone more experienced, was a mistake—women are never perfectly aged or experienced for storytelling or contribution, and they must give themselves permission to act.

Youth Can Challenge Older Women's Authority, Creating Competition Over Collaboration

Ailsa Chang points out that as women gain experience and power, they often become gatekeepers, and younger women’s ambition or success can threaten their sense of authority. Yang acknowledges this dynamic, explaining that for many women, advancement is seen as a “finite pie,” resulting in zero-sum thinking. The success of a young, ambitious woman can provoke anxiety in older women about their relevance and future power, undermining the ideal of “women supporting women.” Yang admits she long felt pressure to hide her age, fearing that her achievements would be dismissed as immature and that the novelty of youth—while exciting—would become a burden once she was no longer “the young one.” She reflects on the fear of losing her defining asset when she would inevitably age into being “just a normal middle-aged woman.”

Premise of "the Take": Blood Tr ...

Older Man and Young Boy Form Transformative Friendship Addressing Mutual Needs

Eddie, a house painter in his forties struggling with loneliness and the fallout from a divorce, encounters eight-year-old Russell alone at a Fred Meyer grocery store late at night. Eddie notices that Russell is small for his age and clearly vulnerable, having trekked out alone in the rain with no coat. Russell comes from a collapsing family: his older brother is abusive and full of rage, his mother is often absent, and his grandmother is overcome with grief. Russell dreams of escaping his bleak situation—imagining building a motor airplane to flee to an island near Hawaii.

Eddie responds to Russell's unspoken need, offering him food and gentle guidance during their first encounter. He advises Russell on practical matters—like bringing a coat and leaving notes for his grandmother—to keep himself safe. For Russell, Eddie becomes a potential source of safety and belonging. Russell, intuitively aware of Eddie's capacity for care, sees in him a path to a safer, more stable life. For Eddie, who is drawn to helping people struggling with hardship, Russell’s presence offers him a renewed sense of purpose. Their relationship is mutually transformative: Russell learns survival skills and gains mentorship, while Eddie finds new meaning and fulfillment in providing for someone who needs care.

Pontiac Le Mans Restoration Fosters Emotional Connection and Growth

Eddie purchases an old Pontiac LeMans to occupy his lonely evenings, using the restoration project to keep his mind engaged and fight off isolation. The car, for Russell, quickly becomes a symbol of possibility and escape—much like the Hot Wheels he dreams about. He is instantly drawn to the vehicle and to the person working on it. Every night, Russell drifts toward Eddie’s carport, eager to participate in Eddie’s world, help with odd jobs, observe the restoration process, and share meals.

What begins as Eddie’s solitary hobby transforms into a collaborative endeavor. Through working together on the car, Eddie teaches Russell practical skills, shows him steady attention and affection, and models a healthy, supportive adult relationship. For Eddie, the act of caring for Russell reconnects him with his own neglected need for companionship and meaning. In helping Russell, Eddie finds himself restored as well, gaining th ...

Literary Fiction Overlooks Working-Class Narratives

Willy Vlautin reflects on the current state of American literature, noting a significant absence of novels centered on working-class protagonists like Eddy. He recalls growing up at a time when John Steinbeck's novels dominated the curriculum at his Reno high school, reading six of the author’s major works. Steinbeck, who was once considered essential reading, was a hero to Vlautin and symbolized a literary era where working-class struggles were regarded as central to American literature.

Vlautin grew up in a working-class environment himself, with a single mom earning less than men and facing sexual harassment, realities he became acutely aware of at an early age. Inspired by Steinbeck, Vlautin always aspired to write stories about working-class life. However, he notes that literary fiction has largely turned its back on these narratives. This shift marks a departure from the time when Steinbeck’s working-class novels were canonical, and signals that such stories are now scarce in the prestigious realm of literary fiction.

Crime Fiction as the Main Platform for Working-Class Stories, Neglected by Literary Fiction

Vlautin observes that crime fiction is now the primary genre carrying forward the tradition of realistic working-class stories. While literary fiction often overlooks these narratives, crime novels have become the place where working-class life is depicted, albeit usually in conjunction with ...