Advertisement

Laughing through the aftermath

The Grief Shop and Other Stories from a Broken World by Alex DiFrancesco

In
5 minute read
Cover; title in thin, yellow letters over all black. An espresso cup and two hands, one w/ a lit cigarette, the person hidden

If you are feeling overwhelmed by being in a constant state of alarm from all the horrible acts of brutality that continue to be inflicted upon us, our neighbors, and the world, you are not alone. How does one cope? And how might humanity survive? Do we have a fighting chance and how might we move forward? These are just some of the many thought-provoking questions that I pondered while reading the imaginative and captivating The Grief Shop and Other Stories from a Broken World by Philadelphia-based author Alex DiFrancesco.

A tragic appetite

DiFrancesco sets their inventive, linked collection of speculative short stories in the near future after a global “tragedy” strips the surviving population of their emotions. Everyone who survives is left emotionally numb. Yet: “Hunger was something we still felt.” By following a character named Gemma who takes on a series of very odd, odd jobs, like serving cups of grief-infused beverages in a café, therapeutic boxing, and more—each story provides surprising glimpses of survival and resilience as people seek to reawaken their emotions. Her quest to make enough money to survive transforms into a broader search for what makes us human.

This surreal exploration of humanity, set in the near-future world that DiFrancesco has sharply rendered, offers a cathartic escape. Each of the ten stories venture at a steady and propulsive pace into the depths of the aftermath world that feels more familiar than different from our current world, but with entertaining, memorable details and layers of intrigue about what makes us human and why this is significant for survival. As we witness Gemma navigate the cruel absurdity of late-stage capitalism’s modus operandi of exploitation by working a series of odd jobs, we observe how emotions become commodified and we see the aftermath world through the lens of a working person. She encounters a range of characters who want to feel, those who don’t, opportunists who want to use the tragedy as another way to make money, those who use the tragedy to exploit others, and characters who want to find meaning in the world. Some made rash decisions when they thought the world was ending only to find out that they survived, and life continues. But what is life without emotions? How do we navigate the aftermath of survival?

In “The Shorthand of Emotion,” Gemma is hired to install speakers that emit subliminal messaging aimed at helping people remember their feelings. We see Gemma wrestle with what is right and wrong. In this story, DiFrancesco builds the foundation for the reader to ask: In what small but meaningful way might we be able to set each other free?

How to save a life

The underlying compassion threaded throughout this collection invites thoughtful questions about the quest for meaning and how small acts of kindness can be lifesaving. This alone makes the book resonate, and another notable aspect of this collection and of other DiFrancesco works is their incisive wit. For example, I laughed out loud during “The Bad Neo-Dadaist” in which one of the characters is shunned by a group of Neo-Dadaist artists and considered a “Bad Neo-Dadaist” because he finds meaning in everything. In “Suicide Machines,” part of the story involves a satirical description that cracked me up of “the mail-order service” called “Nile,” which parasitically thrives while everyone else is suffering.

DiFrancesco’s layered humor adds levity and dimension. Instead of burdening the reader with heavy descriptions of how “the tragedy” victimized people, DiFrancesco’s narrative focus remains locked on the complexities of human experience following “the tragedy.”

“And before the big tragedy, the one that emptied out the world, there had been so many other tragedies, daily indignities we all endured until we couldn’t anymore. When I think about it now, it’s no surprise we all just had to shut down. People aren’t meant for constant trauma. I know that better than most.”

DiFrancesco’s collection explores the mystery of what makes us human and how the capacity for human feeling and connection are boundless.

I must admit that one of the many reasons I wanted to read this book is because my novel, Grief Camp, forthcoming from SFWP in 2027, shares the word “Grief” in its title. Like DiFrancesco’s book, mine also uses humor to illuminate the complexities of human experience, but otherwise it is quite different. Like all of DiFrancesco’s books, The Grief Shop and Other Stories from a Broken World is boldly original and profound. I had the pleasure of reviewing DiFrancesco’s memoir, Breaking the Curse, for BSR in 2024. DiFrancesco is also the author of the novel, All City, and a collection of short stories, Transmutation, and they are the co-host of Philly Writers Circle, which brings together writers in a monthly reading series at Ray’s Happy Birthday Bar.

If ever there was a collection of short stories for our time, The Grief Shop and Other Stories from a Broken World is it.


Thanks for engaging with our 2026 BSR Book Week! If you’re looking for a good read, be sure to check out our other book reviews, taking over the BSR site from May 17-23, 2026. On May 25, we return to our regular mix of covering theater, opera, music, visual art, dance, books, films, public events, and more. Subscribe to our weekly newsletters (never a paywall!), and you can support our independent nonprofit arts journalism with a gift of any size.

What, When, Where

The Grief Shop and Other Stories from a Broken World. By Alex DiFrancesco. New York City: Seven Stories Press, June 16, 2026. 144 pages, paperback and ebook; $15.26. Get it here.

Sign up for our newsletter

All of the week's new articles, all in one place. Sign up for the free weekly BSR newsletters, and don't miss a conversation.

Join the Conversation