Horses--One Dash Stephen Crane
The Worm in the Apple John Cheever
Fever Flower Shirley Ann Grau
Leaves John Updike
Short stories seem like a bit of a hack. A guaranteed honeymoon effect. But why've I been so afraid of them?
Who is this Updike guy? He was in the gang of American males (mostly Jews?) who wrote totems in the 60s and 70s. Back when novels mattered. Roth, DeLillo, Bellow, Updike, Cheever, Coover. I learned their names in college. The guys who wrote serious literature. Who won the National Book Award. Updike was just another one of the group. He seemed kinda like the one you didn't get to.
But in Lipsky's book-length interview with Wallace, he's brought up more than a few times. Wallace really got a lot out of him. Easy pleasure. He's described almost to be an airport novelist. I'd forgotten until recently this all went on.
I've had some hesitation with Updike because he calls all his novels Rabbit. But that's less of a drag now. Rabbit Rich and Rabbit Run sit on my bookshelf. Might be a right fun time. But my compass points nearer his short stories. I can read one a day. It's just 10 pages. Plus any novel I start is a mistress. A short story is the bride.
I want more short stories on the shelf. I have a 1966 anthology Points of View, then collections from Saul Bellow, John Cheever, Leo Tolstoy, and Alice Munro. I might have some others tucked away. There's a James Crumley book mixed with essays and short stories. I'd like more variety.
I went to the local book shop yesterday; sadly there were no appealing volumes. There was Twain, and a few forgotten others. A couple Best Short Stories from 2013 type stuff. I didn't even bother opening. Post-2010 stuff seems apocalyptic, maybe excepting some translated material.
I'll need to make a more ambitious trek to fill out my shelf. The obvious choices are Chekhov, Flannery O'Connor, Updike, Faulkner. It seems foolish to not have Dubliners nearby as well. Flannery's openers don't really pull, but the level of acclaim is not easily cast aside.
I landed an Updike volume from the library. Flipping through was powerful. More frequently than not my gaze landed on words of promise.
I read Leaves first. The power of his prose is something. Subject matter is just supplement. The flourishes work easily. I expect there'll be another tonight.
The Crane story I liked too. He feels like a modern writer--easy imagery. I could definitely read more.
The Cheever story wasn't a total success, but interesting. A year ago I read some of The Swimmer, to disastrous result. I bet I'd like it more now, but his prose just lacks. The Worm of the Apple had a nice narrative concept. Most everything blooms some now. I'm still familiarizing with the form. And the big red volume certainly has a nice loom to it, though I doubt I'll open it again soon.
Another that grabbed flipping through Points of View was Fever Flower. Sort of remarkable, but a bit depressing. I want to be plugged in to this feeling again.
I haven't said much about A&P. It's the type of story that grabs everyone. Feels legendary. There's little to say. Love opening a book and being in the grocery store. One of the greatest narrative settings.
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