He was too simple to wonder when he had obtained humility.
This book was assigned reading when I was barely a whippersnapper, and I remember it as beinHe was too simple to wonder when he had obtained humility.
This book was assigned reading when I was barely a whippersnapper, and I remember it as being extremely dreary. Reading it again, I can see why — it is a tale of endurance, of hardship, and does not have a happy, packaged ending.
It is tonally strange: there is much about it that is simplistic, and yet peppered with authorial intrusions such as the sentence extracted above. The combination somehow makes it suitable for schoolchildren and an enduring classic. (The book in my hands, a Scribner School Edition, is perhaps represented here, but there are more than 3,000 editions and I didn't find it.)
This is a tale of optimism, despite a streak of not being lucky. And yet what does that optimism achieve?
The boy is crying at the end, and the reader has to decide why....more
It was the beginning of a June afternoon. The spring-like transparent sky shed a rain of silver sunshine on the roofs of the village, and on the pastuIt was the beginning of a June afternoon. The spring-like transparent sky shed a rain of silver sunshine on the roofs of the village, and on the pastures and the larchwoods surrounding it.
Published in 1917 and described at the time as a "novella" this 200+ page novel does not today seem so short. It is complete and weighty — summer lasts from the spring-like June through the heat of summer until the inevitable denouement of the fall.
Wharton herself listed this work as one of the top five she was most proud of. I'd only discovered "Summer" recently, and wonder why it is not more widely known. It is deeply grounded in social realism, with all the discomforting realities that entails. The novel also deals with a young woman's sexual awakening, and I suppose that is one reason this book was a sensation in its day, but also why it tends to be overlooked.
This volume has an introduction, which is best left to the end.
There are many uncomfortable realities in this New England village, and even though the language is often more allusive than direct, Wharton does not shy away from depicting awkward, uncomfortable, even shocking situations. In a way, it is a romance novel — but romance for cornered, realistic adults who must live with the consequences of their actions.
There was an enormous oven. A radio was playing country-western music.
The language here is simple and straightforward, no fancy flourishes, no literarThere was an enormous oven. A radio was playing country-western music.
The language here is simple and straightforward, no fancy flourishes, no literary conceits, no gimmicks or tricks. The prose is carved into its essence.
The story opens with the baker letting Ann Weiss talk, as she orders a cake for her son's eighth birthday. At the end of the story, it is Ann and her husband who let the baker talk, and listened to him as "they swallowed the dark bread."
Mrs. Peebles said she couldn't make pie crust, the most amazing thing I ever heard a woman admit.
Munro is masterful here, capturing the voice of a couMrs. Peebles said she couldn't make pie crust, the most amazing thing I ever heard a woman admit.
Munro is masterful here, capturing the voice of a country girl working for a more urbane family, at the time when "the trend was starting of town people buying up old farms, not to work them but to live on them."
The girl is looking back at her youthful innocence, naively observing the types of characters she has learned to identify, and proving less insightful about herself. There are wonderful "country" details here — such as recognizing someone as a member of a particular family based on his face.
I have great respect for Alice Munro, which impels me to approach all her work with a severe fondness....more
Then Kikuji said what he had meant at all costs not to say.
Kawabata always leaves me feeling a bit lost, disoriented, uneasy. This short story (or novThen Kikuji said what he had meant at all costs not to say.
Kawabata always leaves me feeling a bit lost, disoriented, uneasy. This short story (or novella, depending on your standards) is all about breaches of decorum, saying what should be ignored, doing what would be best undone.
Ostensibly centred on the rituals of the tea ceremony, this unsettling work is more about a young man's relationship with his deceased father's mistresses. Are such matters also part of traditional Japanese culture?
(Update in the form of an embarrassing confession: I only just realized this book is a novel with five chapters, not a collection of five short stories; therefore, I've only read the first chapter so far.)...more
There may be spoilers ahead; the story is only 8 pages and I'm assuming everyone has already read it.A short story from the mercurial Virginia Woolf.
There may be spoilers ahead; the story is only 8 pages and I'm assuming everyone has already read it.
The Duchess may come first in the title, but only appears in the second half. The Jeweller is present throughout, and we learn more of his rough beginnings and shady pursuits: an early start selling stolen dogs in an alley. Worked his way up, a couple of mysteriously lucky scores and then, eventually, through charm and guile, became a society jeweller.
The Duchess appears as a regular customer, with pearls for sale. The Jeweller makes her wait, but he is in love with the Duchess's daughter who is dangled in front of him as bait. The weight and brilliance of this short story is the equivalence drawn between The Duchess and the Jeweller: they both depend on appearances, and neither is above passing off counterfeit goods in pursuit of personal goals....more
I couldn't believe it: but what I mean by that is that I couldn't find any room for it anywhere inside me.
Beautiful moments, crystallized and trenchaI couldn't believe it: but what I mean by that is that I couldn't find any room for it anywhere inside me.
Beautiful moments, crystallized and trenchant, pepper this short story from James Baldwin. There is a confusing honesty in this tale of brothers; by that I mean the honesty of wrestling with confusion and never quite understanding all the struggles and contradictions of the world.
Some stories are too big to tell. But Baldwin was a writer who did a fine job reaching for the truth....more
Dense and allusive, this short story from Virginia Woolf parses an interlude in Mrs. Dalloway's back garden. Two friends take a break from a party — tDense and allusive, this short story from Virginia Woolf parses an interlude in Mrs. Dalloway's back garden. Two friends take a break from a party — the man never stops talking, and the woman never stops thinking. Between the two of them their thoughts and discourse are universal and yet intimate.
A magnificent short piece, poetic and vibrant....more
A rock so heavy it requires two hands to lift it — that is the heft of this story that strikes the unassuming reader with an inevitable ruthless brutaA rock so heavy it requires two hands to lift it — that is the heft of this story that strikes the unassuming reader with an inevitable ruthless brutality.
Like death itself, arbitrary and seemingly cruel, this tale evokes all the messiness in life which cannot be avoided.
This will be a shocking story for new readers, and remains shocking to those who have encountered it before....more
"The Swimmer" is strong short story, perhaps Cheever's most famous, depicting ennui and delusion in a wealthy American suburb.
It is striking how impor"The Swimmer" is strong short story, perhaps Cheever's most famous, depicting ennui and delusion in a wealthy American suburb.
It is striking how important social caste, or "class," is to the characters. Neddy Merrill believes himself secure in his upper class status — that is part and parcel of the self-delusion (or is it self-belief?) so vividly depicted here.
Rounded down to 4 stars. There's a marvellous wealth of details here, and Cheever is always Cheever, but why do images of Burt Lancaster keep surfacing out of the murky depths?...more
You do not want music. Certainly you do not want music.
Two waiters, waiting on a solitary old man, are at first indistinguishable but then slowly devYou do not want music. Certainly you do not want music.
Two waiters, waiting on a solitary old man, are at first indistinguishable but then slowly develop into separate characters. One is younger, and eager to get home to his wife.
The older one carries the weight of the story, as his night continues, standing at another bar. As the reader slowly gains intimacy with the older waiter, the more he resembles the solitary old man at the bar, reluctant to return home to a lonely bed....more
So few stories include the perspective of a snail, and that is a tragedy!
This wonderful short story from Virginia Woolf dips into the souls and feelinSo few stories include the perspective of a snail, and that is a tragedy!
This wonderful short story from Virginia Woolf dips into the souls and feelings of various characters as they stroll through Kew gardens. A snail too is also featured, as it navigates its outsized landscape.
There is much beautiful writing here, compressed into the short format, which expands (dare I say blooms) into a large complex world in the reader's imagination. Insightful glimpses into the intimate lives of the many characters, held together by the slow determined progress of the marvellous snail, overcoming the obstacle of a leaf.
Fitzgerald achieves a wonderful balance in this short story; it is intimate, foreboding, and full of missing pieces. Much room is left for the reader Fitzgerald achieves a wonderful balance in this short story; it is intimate, foreboding, and full of missing pieces. Much room is left for the reader to fill in the gap.
A man who used to be a party animal revisits the playground of Paris, intent on regaining custody of his daughter after the death of her mother. Temptations circle like ominous obsessions; he manages one craving by limiting himself to a single drink a day.
Old flames resurface, old resentments flare up, anger must be kept hidden.
Five stars because really there is so much going on here, in terms of plot, character development, and technique....more
Oh, how extraordinarily nice workmen were, she thought. Why couldn't she have workmen for her friends rather than the silly boys she danced with and wOh, how extraordinarily nice workmen were, she thought. Why couldn't she have workmen for her friends rather than the silly boys she danced with and who came to Sunday night supper? She would get on much better with men like these.
Laura is quite drawn to these friendly workmen, and to the idea of workmen, and is very sympathetic . . . even to the point of being considered "extravagant." Her extravagance however has its limits.
Years ago I read Mansfield's most famous collection The Garden Party and Other Stories but did not recall the developments of the title story. My recent forays into the short stories of Katherine Mansfield have been most rewarding, and this story in particular (without a hint of exaggeration) has one of the best endings in the history of short fiction....more
This collection of short stories was published posthumously, and contains some of Virginia Woolf's best-known pieces, as well as several not publishedThis collection of short stories was published posthumously, and contains some of Virginia Woolf's best-known pieces, as well as several not published in her lifetime. I would have read them all previously, when I made my way through The Complete Shorter Fiction of Virginia Woolf.
Virginia had worked on this collection before her death, and I find the title "A Haunted House" to be itself haunting under the circumstances.
This book contains a multitude of tasty morsels, which demand to be revisited, many of which produce different flavours with every encounter....more
There is a faint chill in the air and Miss Brill was glad that she had decided on her fur. She gave "it a good brush, and rubbed the life back into thThere is a faint chill in the air and Miss Brill was glad that she had decided on her fur. She gave "it a good brush, and rubbed the life back into the dim little eyes."
The fur is one of those peculiar types which no longer seem to exist — the whole animal, biting its tail.
Those dim little eyes can now see more clearly, and judges the attire and demeanour of all those encountered on Miss Brill's Sunday outing to the band stand in the park.
We are all on a stage, Miss Brill decides, and she too is an actress. But is devastated when she discovered her role, the part she is playing, the way she is viewed by some of the other actors.
Oh, Miss Brill. Living her life through that fur piece with a spongy black nose, attached to its own tail....more
One felt an impulse to sing, to break into a run, to snigger.
Orwell spent time in what was then Burma, serving in the colonial administration. Two of One felt an impulse to sing, to break into a run, to snigger.
Orwell spent time in what was then Burma, serving in the colonial administration. Two of his most powerful essays are based on that experience: A Hanging, and Shooting an Elephant.
This short work of what is now called "creative non-fiction" is memorable and unsettling. There is also a dog who interrupts the proceedings and adds a slightly absurdist element....more
With a kind of wriggle, like a fish returned to the brook by the fisherman, Biddlebaum the silent began to talk, striving to put into words the ideas With a kind of wriggle, like a fish returned to the brook by the fisherman, Biddlebaum the silent began to talk, striving to put into words the ideas that had been accumulated by his mind during long years of silence.
Wing Biddlebaum talked much with his hands. The slender expressive fingers, forever active, forever striving to conceal themselves in his pockets or behind his back, came forth and became the piston rods of his machinery of expression.
An early story from Winesburg, Ohio, Anderson claims to have written this all in one go and never changed a word. According to The Story of the Week (Library of America) the manuscript for the story does show subsequent revisions.
I'm really enjoying the voice here in these tales, the clarity of expression, the apparent straightforwardness. The language does not get in the way of the story, but everything is all of one piece. Simply wonderful.
The "fish returned to the brook", and the "piston rods of his machinery of expression" in the excerpt above are both especially evocative....more
Loading...
