Yiyun Li on Stories That Happen Twice

"Sometimes a story happens twice: the first time in the real time of the present, the second time in retrospect. If I were to set the story entirely in 2015, the story might retain part of its current shape—a field trip full of conflicts among the children and, more subtly, among the adults. It would have been a simpler, funnier, more dramatic story. But the knowledge of the deaths makes that version of the story less complete."

"Was there ever a calm sea for children who could not or would not be molded into an acceptable shape, who did not fit nicely into the safe and inclusive part of the bell curve? Do outlier children meet outlier fates? I think some of those children feel that acutely—Hazel, for instance, and Lilian's older son, Oscar, whom Lilian compares to Hazel at one point. Others may take some time to fully realize the situation."

"In either case, there is a loneliness innate to the situation of being an outlier. Do outlier children meet outlier fates may be one of the most difficult and unanswerable questions any parent could ask."

A narrative structured around a 2015 field trip gains depth through Lilian's retrospective perspective, informed by the subsequent deaths of her sons. While a present-tense version would be simpler and more dramatic, the knowledge of future tragedy creates a more complete story. Lilian observes children on the trip and contemplates their futures, particularly those who don't fit conventional molds. She questions whether outlier children inevitably meet outlier fates, recognizing the inherent loneliness in being different. Some children acutely feel their outsider status while others remain comfortable with it. This dual temporal structure allows the story to unfold both in real time and through retrospective understanding.

Read at The New Yorker