The Collected Stories of Jean Stafford won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1970. I am going to be reading stories from this collection all year.

Both “The Maiden” and “A Modest Proposal” were only about 10 pages (small print) long. I didn’t love either of them, but I did find them [...]]]>

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The Collected Stories of Jean Stafford won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1970. I am going to be reading stories from this collection all year.

Both “The Maiden” and “A Modest Proposal” were only about 10 pages (small print) long. I didn’t love either of them, but I did find them a bit intriguing. “The Maiden” involves a dinner party in post-WWII Germany where both the Germans and the Americans attending are a bit on edge. The Americans think they have the upper hand until a story about a lawyer, a guillotine, and a marriage proposal is told.

In “A Modest Proposal,” some women are in the Caribbean so they can either divorce their husbands or be divorced by them. Swift’s story of “A Modest Proposal” is involved in this story, and best I could tell, Stafford’s story was meant to be satirical as well, but I never was quite sure.

Both of these stories were well-written and interesting, but they almost deserve a higher critical study, and that’s something I am unable and unwilling to do at this time in my life. So, I will plug on with reading this, but I won’t promise too much intellectual commentary as I do.

The Collected Stories of Jean Stafford won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1970.  In my goal of reading all of the Pulitzers, I only recently decided that I am going to concentrate on all the female authors first. That doesn’t mean I won’t read any male authors until I’m finished [...]]]>

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The Collected Stories of Jean Stafford won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1970.  In my goal of reading all of the Pulitzers, I only recently decided that I am going to concentrate on all the female authors first. That doesn’t mean I won’t read any male authors until I’m finished with the females; it just means that females will have top priority.

Short story collections are difficult to get through all at once — I’ve found it much more successful to read them bits at a time. This particular story collection  is a fairly thick book, 488 pages, so I imagine it will take me awhile to finish it. I’ll be reading Stafford’s stories throughout this year (and probably next as well).

“In the Zoo” takes place in Denver where two adult sisters meet for a visit. While at the zoo, they remark about how the polar bear reminds of them of Mr. Murphy, their only real friend in childhood. The story then takes us to their growing up years and what happens to them after they become orphans and meet Mr. Murphy.

The story is a sad one, illustrating how overly critical adults can truly kill the spirit of a child or even of other adults. After initially being lukewarm to the story, I ended up respecting it and thinking it was very well written. My initial dislike was a result of the characters’ dislike for their childhood town, “Adams,” 50 miles north of Denver, though she does admit that her memories of the town may have been colored by her experiences.

I grew up in Colorado, and as almost anyone who has been there can attest, the entire front range along the Rockies is absolutely beautiful (see picture below), and I can’t imagine anyone not liking it. In the introduction to the book I found out that apparently Jean Stafford grew up and went to college  in Boulder and left as soon as she could. As someone who has been trying to get back to Colorado for all of my adult life and never quite made it, I was a little put off by her description of it. But, to each her own.

Nevertheless, I found Jean Stafford’s writing to be very good and am looking forward to reading the rest of the collection.

View from Boulder, Colorado

Did you know it was Jewish Book Month? I didn’t, but when I found out, I wanted to read a title from a Jewish author. Lara Vapnyar won the 2004 Goldberg Prize for Jewish Fiction by Emerging Writers for There Are Jews in my House.  She emigrated from Russia in 1994 [...]]]>

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Did you know it was Jewish Book Month? I didn’t, but when I found out, I wanted to read a title from a Jewish author. Lara Vapnyar won the 2004 Goldberg Prize for Jewish Fiction by Emerging Writers for There Are Jews in my House.  She emigrated from Russia in 1994 when she was in her early twenties and now lives in New York.

Broccoli and Other Tales of Food and Love would be perfect for someone participating in the Well-Seasoned Reader Challenge.  There are six short stories in the book, and they all have to do with food. There are even recipes for some Russian dishes in the back.

“A Bunch of Broccoli on the Third Shelf” tells the story of Nina, a Russian immigrant who loves to shop for vegetables but rarely cooks them.

“Borscht” is a sad story about two people who come to the States to earn money for their families, but then their loved ones are indifferent to them going back home to Russia.

“Puffed Rice and Meatballs” is about Katya’s memory of a childhood incident that she refuses to share with her American boyfriend.

In “Salad Olivier,” a mother tries to find her daughter a boyfriend — but he must be Russian.

“Luda and Milena” was my favorite story.  Two older women fighting over an older man with their cooking.

In “Slicing Sauteed Spinach,” Ruzena lets her lover choose her food for her.  Until…

I really enjoyed this collection, but especially “Luda and Milena.”  It was a pure gem. I now plan on reading There Are Jews in My House for the Jewish Literature Challenge.

2008, 148 pp.
(4/5)

“The Corner Shop” by Cynthia Asquith

A man goes into a corner shop on a foggy night and finds warmth and kindness from two sisters.  So much so that he wants to go back.  When he does, the [...]]]> Three more mini reviews from Roald Dahl’s Book of Ghost Stories, edited by Roald Dahl.  I enjoyed all three!

“The Corner Shop” by Cynthia Asquith

A man goes into a corner shop on a foggy night and finds warmth and kindness from two sisters.  So much so that he wants to go back.  When he does, the shop is closed, but he finds a mysterious old man who lets him in.  He purchases a small object with some curious consequences.  This was a good one.

“In the Tube” by E. F. Benson

Just some quotes on this one:

Time indeed!  There’s no such thing as Time really; it has no actual existence.  Time is nothing more than infinitesimal point in eternity, just as space is an infinitesimal point in infinity.  At the most, Time is a sort of tunnel through which we are accustomed to believe that we are travelling.  There’s a roar in our ears and a darkness in our eyes which makes it seem real to us.  But before we came into the tunnel we existed for ever in an infinite sunlight, and after we have got through it we shall exist in an infinite sunlight again.

Say that a man commits some crime of violence, can we not, with a good deal of truth, say that he really commits that crime when he definitely plans and determines upon it, dwelling on it with gusto?  The actual commission of it, I think we can reasonably argue, is the mere material sequel of his resolve; he is guilty of it when he makes that determination.  When, therefore, in the term of ‘before’ and ‘after’, does the crime truly take place?   There is also in my story a further point for your consideration.  For it seems certain that the spirit of a man, after the death of his body, is obliged to re-enact such a crime, with a view, I suppose we may guess, to his remorse and his eventual redemption. [ ] Perhaps he may have done his deed blindly in this life; but then his spirit recommits it with its spiritual eyes open, and able to comprehend its enormity.  So, shall we view the man’s original determination and the material commission of this crime only as preludes to the real commission of it, when with eyes unsealed he does it and repents of it?

“Christmas Meeting” by Rosemary Timperley

An older woman and an aspiring young author keep each other company at Christmas.  Good, and only 3 pages!

The third and fourth stories of The Secrets of a Fire King are equally good.  I was particularly fascinated by “A Gleaming in the Darkness.”

“A Gleaming in the Darkness” is [...]]]> I read the first two stories of this book back in May and enjoyed them very much.  You can read my review of those two here.

The third and fourth stories of The Secrets of a Fire King are equally good.  I was particularly fascinated by “A Gleaming in the Darkness.”

“A Gleaming in the Darkness” is about two Maries.  One is a cleaning woman for a university, and the other is the famous scientist, Marie Curie.  (To avoid confusion, I’ll refer to the cleaning woman as Marie and the scientist as Curie.)  While Marie cleans for and waits on Madame Curie, she is enthralled by Curie’s intelligence, will, stamina, and persistence.  She defends her against her detractors and admires her work exceedingly.  The story is told through flashbacks of Marie’s memories, while the aged Marie is in the hospital during World War II.   Maybe you have to be a science geek like me to really appreciate this story, but I absolutely loved this one.  I also loved the perspective of age looking back on youth.

They do not believe that their unlined skin, their smooth and agile limbs, will ever fall into such a state of disrepair as mine have done.  They are sorry for my disabilities, my old age, my dying, and they pity me.  They do not see I have no pity for myself.  The young girls do not know it, and I cannot tell them, but I have discovered that past and present blur together, become one and the same, so that time means very little at the end.

“Balance” is about an aging couple, Marc and Francoise who perform a small circus-type show in the park at small cities. This one also deals with the loss of youth, but, unlike in the above story, the characters show great reluctance to the aging process. Once with perfect bodies, the tiniest decrease in abilities is perceived as a huge challenge for them, particularly because Francoise is a trapeze artist.

If I ever slipped…I could never do it again. I have to believe that it’s impossible for me to fall.

I really encourage you to pick up this book of stories by Kim Edwards. I’ve seen it at in the Bargain Books section of both Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

“W.S.” by L.P. Hartley

Walter Streeter is a novelist who begins receiving postcards from a fan.  The postcards are signed with the initials W.S.  At first [...]]]> I picked this book for the RIP III Challenge, and I also thought I’d use it for Short Story September.  I’ve enjoyed the first two stories of the book so far.

“W.S.” by L.P. Hartley

Walter Streeter is a novelist who begins receiving postcards from a fan.  The postcards are signed with the initials W.S.  At first the notes are very complimentary, but it appears the fan might be stalking him as W.S. admits he is coming nearer and nearer to Walter with each postcard.   This alarms Walter and he notifies the police, who at first don’t seem to be interested in the case and assure him it is probably a hoax.  Later, they agree to provide him with police protection, and there is a policeman who arrives at the door, but…

“Harry” by Rosemary Timperley

A little girl begins to have an imaginary friend the summer before she goes off to school.  At first her parents don’t think anything about it, but then they become increasingly more alarmed at their daughter’s insistence that Harry is real.

“Such ordinary things make me afraid.  Sunshine.  Sharp shadows on grass.  White roses.  Children with red hair.  And the name — Harry.  Such an ordinary name.”

I’m really looking forward to reading more of the stories in this collection!

Just some quotes:

“Taking the Train”

Later, she came to see happiness as something chancy and unreliable, a flash of light beating at the edge of a human eye or a tin piece of glass to be carried secretly inside her head.

Home

By some extraordinary coincidence (or cosmic dispensation or whatever), [...]]]> Finished three more stories from Shields this week.

Just some quotes:

“Taking the Train”

Later, she came to see happiness as something chancy and unreliable, a flash of light beating at the edge of a human eye or a tin piece of glass to be carried secretly inside her head.

Home

By some extraordinary coincidence (or cosmic dispensation or whatever), each person on the London-bound flight that night was, for a moment, filled with the steam of perfect happiness. Whether it was the oxygen-enriched air of the fusiform cabin, or the duckling with orange sauce, or the souffle-soft buttocks of the stewardess sashaying to and for with her coffeepot, or the unchartable currents of air bouncing against the sides of the vessel, or some random thought dredged out of the darkness of the aircraft and fueled by the proximity of strangers — whatever it was, each of the one hundred passengers — one after another, from rows one to twenty-five, like little lights going on — experienced an intense, simultaneous sensation of joy. They were for that moment swimmers riding a single wave, tossed upward by infection or clairvoyance or a slant of perception uniquely heightened by an accident of altitude.

The Journal

Since it is close to five o’clock, they’re beginning to gather in small cafes and bars and ‘salons du the’ in order to treat themselves to glasses of wine or beer or perhaps small cups of bitter espresso. A ‘quotidian quaff’ is the tickling phrase that pops into Harold’s head, and it seems to him there is not one person in all of Reims, in all of France for that matter, who is not now happily seated in some warm public corner and raising pleasing liquids to his lips. He experiences a nudge of grief because he does not happen to live in a country where people gather publicly at this hour to sip drinks and share anecdotes and debate ideas.

“A Wood” – written with her daughter, Anne Giardini. I liked this one quite a bit and thought it could have had the potential to become a novella; in fact, I wanted more [...]]]> Still reading Carol Shields’ stories; I’m about 1/3 of the way through the book. This week I read the following four:

“A Wood” – written with her daughter, Anne Giardini. I liked this one quite a bit and thought it could have had the potential to become a novella; in fact, I wanted more when I finished reading. The story is about three Wood siblings and the guilt they share about the death of their domineering father. Ross is the overly-critical brother, while Stanley is perhaps a bit too accepting. Elke is the eccentric concert violinist who even composes her own music. The dynamic of the three felt real, and I definitely wanted to know more about their father, who was known to say things such as:

• A Wood will only settle for standards of excellence.
• A Wood asks more of himself than he asks of others.
• A Wood knows that work is the least despised of human activities.
• A Wood values accomplishment above all.

“Love so Fleeting, Love so Fine” – A strange story about a married man who invents stories in his head about the women whose names appear on signs and slogans.

“Dolls, Dolls, Dolls, Dolls” – A woman recalls her childhood attachment to dolls.

I knew she was lifeless, knew there was no heart fluttering in her soft chest and no bravery in her hollow head. None of it was real, none of it.

Only her power to protect me. Human love, I saw, could not always be relied upon. There would be times when I would have to settle for a kind of parallel love, an extension of my hidden self, hidden even from me.

“Invitations” – A woman receives multiple invitations to events on a Saturday evening. Instead she chooses to stay home with Mansfield Park.

Clearly she was lost in what she was reading, for she never once glanced up. Her look of solitary containment and the oblique angle with which the light struck the left side of her face made her seem piercingly lovely. One of her hands, curved like a comma, lay on her lap; the other, slowly, thoughtfully, turned over the pages.

This was a great story to end on. I always look forward to my moments with Shields.

“Poaching” – A couple likes to pick up hitchhikers and listen to their life stories.

Behind each of the people we pick up, Dobey believes, there’s a [...]]]> I thought that today I’d just share some lines from each of the stories I read this past week. I’m still reading from The Collected Stories of Carol Shields.

“Poaching” – A couple likes to pick up hitchhikers and listen to their life stories.

Behind each of the people we pick up, Dobey believes, there’s a deep cave, and in the cave is a trap door and a set of stone steps that we may descend if we wish. I say to Dobey that there may be nothing at the bottom of the stairs, but Dobey says, how will we know if we don’t look.

“Scenes” – Scenes from a woman named Frances’s life.

These are just some of the scenes in Frances’s life. She thinks of them as scenes because they’re much too fragmentary to be stories and far too immediate to be memories. They seem to bloom out of nothing, out of the thin, uncolored air of defeats and pleasures. A curtain opens, a light appears, there are voices or music or sometimes a wide transparent stream of silence. Only rarely do they point to anything but themselves. They’re difficult to talk about. They’re useless, attached to nothing, can’t be traded in or shaped into instruments to prise open the meaning of the universe.

There are people who think such scenes are ornaments suspended from lives that are otherwise busy and useful. Frances knows perfectly well that they are what a life is made of, one fitting against the next like English paving stones.

“Fragility” – A couple prepares to relocate a few years after their son died.

Our plane seems a fragile vessel, a piece of jewelry up here between the stars and the mountains. Flying through dark air like this makes me think that life itself is fragile. The miniature accidents of chromosomes can spread unstoppable circles of grief. A dozen words carelessly uttered can dismantle a marriage. A few gulps of oxygen are all that stand between us and death.

“The Metaphor is Dead–Pass It On” – A professor’s discourse on language.

“The metaphor is dead,” bellowed the gargantuan professor, his walrus mustache dancing and his thundery eyebrows knitting together rapaciously. “Those accustomed to lunching at the high table of literature will now be able to nosh at the trough on a streamlined sub minus the pickle. Banished is that imperial albatross, that dragooned double agent, that muddy mirror lit by the false flashing signal like and by that even more presumptuous little sugar lump as. The gates are open, and the prisoner, freed of his shackles, has departed without so much as a goodbye wave to those who would take a simple pomegranate and insist it be the universe.”

This one goes on to talk about other grammar topics in a similar manner. I’m not sure what it all meant, but I did enjoy it!

Flitting Behavior – An author deals with his wife’s terminal illness.

Pardon – No cards with “I’m sorry” [...]]]> I’m really enjoying these stories by Shields. I’m so glad I chose this for The Short Story Challenge and The Canadian Challenge. The three Shields’ stories I read this past week were “Flitting Behavior,” “Pardon,” and “Words.”

Flitting Behavior – An author deals with his wife’s terminal illness.

Pardon – No cards with “I’m sorry” can be found at the gift shop because everyone is in the mood to apologize to everyone.

Words – The world is heating up (literally) because of human language. A man takes a vow of silence but then finds he no longer remembers even simple words anymore. His wife is furious with him.  Is an object that same object when a word for it doesn’t exist?

But time passes and people forget…Next she forgot her husband’s name. Sometimes she forgot that she had a husband at all, for how could anything be said to exist, she asked herself loudly, hoarsely–even a husband, even one’s self-if it didn’t also exist in the shape of a word.

The three stories I read this past week were “Accidents,” “Sailors Lost at Sea,” and “Purple Blooms.”

Accidents – [...]]]> As I mentioned last Monday, I’m reading 2-3 stories from this book per week as part of the Short Story Challenge. This will enable me to complete it before July 1 and count it for the Canadian Challenge.

The three stories I read this past week were “Accidents,” “Sailors Lost at Sea,” and “Purple Blooms.”

Accidents – A Canadian couple in France find that accidents while on vacation are common.

Sailors Lost at Sea – A poet and her daughter are spending the year in France. Here, another ‘accident’ happens, but the resolution of it is unclear. I’d really like to know what happened!

Purple Blooms – A woman gives out copies of one of her favorite poetry books to family and friends who don’t seem to appreciate it. Or do they?

I enjoyed all three of these, but it seems to me that many stories I’ve read over the past few months (not just from Shields) feel unfinished. I want closure, and most of the time that is not forthcoming. I wonder if that’s a relatively recent trend in short story-telling. Has that been anyone else’s experience as well?

As part of the Short Story Challenge, I want to read 2-3 stories from this book per week. This will enable me to complete [...]]]> I love Carol Shields’ writing. If you do, too, this book is available in hardback at B&N for $3.95 for a limited time. The book is introduced by Margaret Atwood.

As part of the Short Story Challenge, I want to read 2-3 stories from this book per week. This will enable me to complete it before July 1 and count it for the Canadian Challenge.

The three stories I read this past week were “Segue,” “Various Miracles,” and “Mrs. Turner Cutting the Grass.”

Segue – Jane Sexton, chairwoman of The Sonnet Society, tells us about her life writing sonnets and living with her famous author-husband Max. It is also a story about dealing with aging.

Various Miracles – a story about everyday miracles or coincidences.

Mrs. Turner Cutting the Grass – While Mrs. Turner is cutting the grass, other people are thinking or talking about her. Is she better off being blissfully unaware, or is it preferable to know where one stands in the world?

I got this book awhile ago, and I was so surprised when I opened it and it had the very quote that I had used in my review of the Stone Diaries:

Something has occurred to her–something transparently simple, something she’s always known, it seems, but never articulated. Which is that the moment of death occurs while we’re still alive. Life marches right up to the wall of that final darkness, one extreme state of being butting against the other. Not even a breath separates them. Not even a blink of the eye. A person can go on and on tuned in to the daily music of food and work and weather and speech right up to the last minute, so that not a single thing gets lost.

Carol Shields died of cancer in 2003. She was a gifted writer, and I definitely plan on reading more, if not all, of her works.

Last Monday, I summarized the first half of the book, so look there if you’d like more info on all the stories in this book. This week, we have:

“The Christmas Baramundi” Definitely the most depressing story in the book, and one of the few I really didn’t care for. A [...]]]> Short Story Monday

Last Monday, I summarized the first half of the book, so look there if you’d like more info on all the stories in this book. This week, we have:

“The Christmas Baramundi”
Definitely the most depressing story in the book, and one of the few I really didn’t care for. A woman thinks she meets the perfect man, but then finds out differently.

“This Year It Will Be Different”
This one is also depressing. A woman thinks her family wants to help her with all the Christmas preparations, but do they?

“Season of Fuss”
This time, a woman’s family helps with the preparations, but is that what she really wants?

“A Typical Irish Christmas. . . ”
This one’s nice. A family is reunited.

“Traveling Hopefully”
A man and a woman are stuck on a long plane ride together. Will the relationship continue after the flight?

“What Is Happiness?”
A boy is caught up in his father’s infidelity when the mistress stalks the family.

“The Best Inn in Town”
Two grandmothers fight over their turf in a family that is usually united over the subject.

I would have to say I much preferred the first half of the book to the second half. The second half of the book is much more depressing. While the families depicted in the first half were far from perfect, there was at least a little hope involved. Not so in some of these later stories. However, overall I did enjoy the book and would recommend it for the Christmas season.

1996, 210 pp.
Rating: 4

Right now I’m halfway finished with Roberto Bolaño’s book of short stories, Last Evenings on Earth. I started reading this book solely because it was on the 2006 NYT Notable List and because I needed another foreign language (I’m committed to 10) for my Reading Across Borders Challenge. Bolaño is a Chilean [...]]]>

Right now I’m halfway finished with Roberto Bolaño’s book of short stories, Last Evenings on Earth. I started reading this book solely because it was on the 2006 NYT Notable List and because I needed another foreign language (I’m committed to 10) for my Reading Across Borders Challenge. Bolaño is a Chilean author, and his stories were originally published in Spanish.

I honestly didn’t know what to expect when I started this book, but I’m finding Bolaño’s stories very readable. In fact, some of his stories seem to have no point at all, and yet I’m still enjoying them. I find myself gravitating toward this book when I need to be finishing up some other challenge books as well. Maybe it’s the international settings–I’m a sucker for that. Many of his characters are literary types. Another thumbs up. He also writes in first person, which makes the stories seem all the more real; reading them seems almost voyeuristic.

I’ll give the final verdict on Bolaño when I finish the book, but here, hopefully, is a small glimpse into a relatively unknown (at least to me) author.