What We Talk About When We Talk About Love by Raymond CarverIll announce the cliche of my loving this book before you beat me to it.
Im an overeducated, mock-contemplative early-twenty-something with a penchant for strong male voices (despite my feminist leanings) and a distaste for anything too sentimental. I was raised in the tradition of Show, Dont Tell and hold this closer than even my favorite teddy (whose name is Atticus.) My middle name is Minimalism. My other middle name is Ooh, that sounds pretty.
With that out of the way, yes, of course I loved this volume, and probably for the reasons youd expect.
Raymond Carvers name should be in lights. Everyone who likes this book is going to tell you that one of Carvers strengths is his knack for understatement. Im guessing what theyre getting at is Carvers ability to keep all the mechanics of his stories imperceptible beneath the surface, with maybe a few out-of-character exceptions (the alcohol device in the title story being one). Theres also the fact that Carver seems to accomplish things in the span of one page that so many authors would kill many more trees (and possibly small children, and maybe even a puppy or two) to achieve; see the opening page of Tell The Women Were Going to see what I mean. How many authors can convincingly sum up the entire personal history of two characters in only one paragraph?
Beneath the tightness of each story there seems to be a distinctive pulse. Not the rhythm of the language. Rather, the kind of pure life energy that all artistic works strive for (or at least they should.) When stories took turns (for the worst is implicit), what startled me more than each outcome was often the fact that I was so moved by them each. Its because of this pulse that characters who existed for only 3 or 4 pages still seemed to walk off the page and become real. And thats probably what will make these stories linger in my memory.
People often seem to speak of Raymond Carvers America when theyre trying to grasp these stories. I dont know what that means, or if Raymond Carvers America is anything like mine. Whatever it is, its tortured and beautiful. And I like it.
What We Talk About When We Talk About Doughnuts (w/Jonathan Schwarz)
My friend Herb McGinnis, a cardiologist, was talking. The four of us were sitting around his kitchen table drinking gin. It was Saturday afternoon. Sunlight filled the kitchen from the big window behind the sink. We lived in Albuquerque, but we were all from somewhere else. There was an ice bucket on the table. The gin and the tonic water kept going around, and we somehow got on the subject of love.
Can a Burger Help Solve Climate Change?
Raymond Carver Marshall Bruce Gentry and William L. Nick and Laura are still in the glow of early love, and their behavior toward one another is affectionate and respectful. Mel and Terri, on the other hand, have been together five years, and their surface-level civility to one another barely masks a deep-seated anger and resentment. This story addresses typical Carver themes of marriage and divorce, alcoholism, despair, and the difficulty of communication. Raymond Carver was born on May 25, , in Clatskanie, Oregon. His father was a manual laborer, and Carver worked as a laborer at various jobs from the early s through the late s.
The gist is simple enough: two married couples down some gin and dish about love over the course of an afternoon in late summer or early fall. In addition to giving us a few spare doses of the hearts-and-flowers variety of love, "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love" tosses violence, hatred, depression, and alcoholism in our laps, all in an effort to suss out what love is, and why we bother. Anything but simple. What makes Raymond Carver 's dark yet heartwarming story even more interesting is that there are two versions of it and the other stories in the collection floating around. This story was heavily edited and cut by Carver's editor Gordon Lish, and much of these changes were against Carver's will.
The reader gets the feeling that he may be selling all his possessions, looking to start life anew. A young couple stops by to select furniture for their new apartment. They haggle a little over prices and buy a TV and a bed. The drinking man tells the young girl to put a record on. When the music begins the man asks the couple to dance. Uncomfortably, they comply. Then the drinking man dances with the young girl, and she says to him: "You must be desperate or something.