Every now and then a story collection catches fire. Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried, Junot Díaz's Drown, George Saunders's Tenth of December. The debut story collection from the young writer Molly Antopol, The UnAmericans (W. W. Norton, $25), is poised to be this year's sensation. The layered riches and historical sweep of its stories make them feel grand, like novels writ small.
The name of the book is the first clue. The wave of titles—on television, in film, music, and literature—featuring the words America or American still hasn't crested. September 11 didn't create the movement, but it exaggerated it, and in these politically divided, religiously confused, environmentally damaged, culturally diverse times, we seem to be struggling more than ever with national identity. Antopol revises this self-absorbed trend, and that's…