Status
Available
Call number
Genres
Publication
Vintage (1989), Edition: Reprint, 526 pages
Description
By the time of his early death in 1988, Raymond Carver had established himself as one of the great practitioners of the American short story, a writer who had not only found his own voice but imprinted it in the imaginations of thousands of readers. Where I'm Calling From, his last collection, encompasses classic stories from Cathedral, What We Talk About When We Talk About Love, and earlier Carver volumes, along with seven new works previously unpublished in book form. Together, these 37 stories give us a superb overview of Carver's life work and show us why he was so widely imitated but never equaled.
User reviews
LibraryThing member ablueidol
Have you ever had one of those Blair moments when after weeks of being nice to everyone you have to finally make a decision which means that enemies are made as they see a must have dismissed? Well this is one of those moments. I have been struggling with Raymond Carver’s “Where I'm Calling
Let me say up front, that his prose, ear for dialogue and depiction of the ordinariness of every day life masking unexpressed pain and joy is the best. His stories are like photos that capture the moment frozen with no past or future with all the ambiguity that the unknown allows the reader/observer. The opposite of Norman Rockwell homeliness, more akin to the photos of Walker Evans of Let Us Now Praise Famous Men. But they have no plot, twists, surprises, or surface complexity of character. These are often blue collar workers in small-town or rural settings struggling with jobs, partners, children and booze and it’s the unsaid that reveals more then the fractured words.
The stories reflect his own drink problems and failed jobs and marriage in his 20s so he turned to writing to escape and short stories could get something in quickly to pay the rent and get food on the table. His life did begin to turn around and his work started to get critical alarm in his 40’s before he died of lung cancer. His accessible prose, realistic situations and comprehensible characters are seen as a counter to egghead experimentalism
But for me, I was left all too often thinking yes and what happens next even while the image created hung in my head. I also think that stories ripped from their original magazine context make the stories work harder then they needed to. I would have welcomed an edition that merged the stories with a set of photographs worthy of the writing. However, if you want to dip in and perhaps read a couple a stories a week or if you enjoy short stories then this is a book for you. As you say at the end of a failed relationship its not you it’s me, and lets remain friends. Knowing it’s really about the lack of passion. Yet the spurned has the chance of real love else where…will that be you?
Show More
From” a collection of thirty-seven stories chosen from several previous collections published over 20 odd years which should therefore be an ideal introduction to his work. And… wait for it… I am going to abandon it unfinished half way despite him being seen As "the American Chekhov or the laureate of the dispossessed”Let me say up front, that his prose, ear for dialogue and depiction of the ordinariness of every day life masking unexpressed pain and joy is the best. His stories are like photos that capture the moment frozen with no past or future with all the ambiguity that the unknown allows the reader/observer. The opposite of Norman Rockwell homeliness, more akin to the photos of Walker Evans of Let Us Now Praise Famous Men. But they have no plot, twists, surprises, or surface complexity of character. These are often blue collar workers in small-town or rural settings struggling with jobs, partners, children and booze and it’s the unsaid that reveals more then the fractured words.
The stories reflect his own drink problems and failed jobs and marriage in his 20s so he turned to writing to escape and short stories could get something in quickly to pay the rent and get food on the table. His life did begin to turn around and his work started to get critical alarm in his 40’s before he died of lung cancer. His accessible prose, realistic situations and comprehensible characters are seen as a counter to egghead experimentalism
But for me, I was left all too often thinking yes and what happens next even while the image created hung in my head. I also think that stories ripped from their original magazine context make the stories work harder then they needed to. I would have welcomed an edition that merged the stories with a set of photographs worthy of the writing. However, if you want to dip in and perhaps read a couple a stories a week or if you enjoy short stories then this is a book for you. As you say at the end of a failed relationship its not you it’s me, and lets remain friends. Knowing it’s really about the lack of passion. Yet the spurned has the chance of real love else where…will that be you?
Show Less
LibraryThing member bluepigeon
I had never read Carver before. This collection perfectly fit my current short story streak. I read the whole collection, so some themes or subjects or fixations stand out. Carver is fascinated by people who want to live other people's lives. His stories are almost always about broken homes, second
For this last point, two stories in this collection stood out for me. Two stories where something unexpected really happened. In "What's in Alaska" something the reader might not have thought of happens, in the middle of an unsuspecting paragraph, so if you are one of those people who skim through the sleepy Carver paragraphs, you will most certainly miss this thing. In "So much water, so close to home," the unexpected (and rather disturbing) thing happens right at the beginning. And everyone, the narrator, the characters in the story, and the reader, have to endure this thing throughout the story.
I have heard great things about Cathedral, but having read all of the stories in the collection, I would say Cathedral is not one that stands out in my mind. Perhaps the narrator is more memorable than others (though I would not even say that), but certainly not in terms of story, plot, or anything else. Besides the two stories I mentioned above, there are many gems here. Perhaps, what you like or what stays with you also depends on your mood, because Carver really does create a mood in his stories, one that is sometimes more tangible than characters or plots or places. "Vitamins," for example, is an excellent slice of life, with so much potential for exciting and great and horrible things to happen, yet so normally dull and uneventful. A torrent of emotions are contained in the confines of daily life. Reading Carver, I thought many of his stories were about containment. With containment comes explosion, of course, but not always within the boundaries of the story, or in ways one would think.
"Where I'm Calling From," "Collectors," and "The Third Thing That Killed My Father Off" are excellent. The newer "Errand" is perfectly pitched, and sufficiently melancholic worthy of Chekov.
Recommended for those who like short stories, and who find America and the middle class fascinating.
Show More
or third marriages, recovering alcoholics, small-town America, and the middle class. Very rarely does something unexpected happens.For this last point, two stories in this collection stood out for me. Two stories where something unexpected really happened. In "What's in Alaska" something the reader might not have thought of happens, in the middle of an unsuspecting paragraph, so if you are one of those people who skim through the sleepy Carver paragraphs, you will most certainly miss this thing. In "So much water, so close to home," the unexpected (and rather disturbing) thing happens right at the beginning. And everyone, the narrator, the characters in the story, and the reader, have to endure this thing throughout the story.
I have heard great things about Cathedral, but having read all of the stories in the collection, I would say Cathedral is not one that stands out in my mind. Perhaps the narrator is more memorable than others (though I would not even say that), but certainly not in terms of story, plot, or anything else. Besides the two stories I mentioned above, there are many gems here. Perhaps, what you like or what stays with you also depends on your mood, because Carver really does create a mood in his stories, one that is sometimes more tangible than characters or plots or places. "Vitamins," for example, is an excellent slice of life, with so much potential for exciting and great and horrible things to happen, yet so normally dull and uneventful. A torrent of emotions are contained in the confines of daily life. Reading Carver, I thought many of his stories were about containment. With containment comes explosion, of course, but not always within the boundaries of the story, or in ways one would think.
"Where I'm Calling From," "Collectors," and "The Third Thing That Killed My Father Off" are excellent. The newer "Errand" is perfectly pitched, and sufficiently melancholic worthy of Chekov.
Recommended for those who like short stories, and who find America and the middle class fascinating.
Show Less
LibraryThing member ggodfrey
Reading Raymond Carver affects my vernacular. I begin thinking and speaking in a folksy clipped manner. All words worth more than a nickel vanish from my vocabulary. This phenomenon happens with TV shows regularly (when I watch 2 episodes of The Wire per day for a week, for example, I'll start to
But Carver's simplicity is deceptive, as they say. You can read one of his sad tales of loss and the losers who experience it in a straigtforward manner, enjoy the story and mark its lack of pretense, and miss completely its surprising depths. This collection has several stories I've read before: "A Small Good Thing" can still bring a tear to my jaded eye after a half-dozen re-visits; "Cathedral" insists that we're all blind and unable to communicate; "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love" discusses darkly the greatest mystery humans face; and, of course, there's the title story, which I've taught to hundreds of undergrads,and which still knocks me for a loop. I find more symbolism in "Where I'm Calling From" each time I read it, and each time I think How in God's name could I have missed that all these years?
I missed that because Carver is a true master of the form, and his gift for subtle, simple imagery may be unmatched. All those references to fires, hearths, flames, chimneys, chimney sweeps, and wells in the title story? They add up to an impressionist masterpiece, and there are several in this volume.
Show More
say muthafucka and sheeyit and bitch more often). But typically what I'm reading doesn't change how I speak. I don't coil my verbiage with endlessly looping dependent clauses when I'm reading Henry James, for instance.But Carver's simplicity is deceptive, as they say. You can read one of his sad tales of loss and the losers who experience it in a straigtforward manner, enjoy the story and mark its lack of pretense, and miss completely its surprising depths. This collection has several stories I've read before: "A Small Good Thing" can still bring a tear to my jaded eye after a half-dozen re-visits; "Cathedral" insists that we're all blind and unable to communicate; "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love" discusses darkly the greatest mystery humans face; and, of course, there's the title story, which I've taught to hundreds of undergrads,and which still knocks me for a loop. I find more symbolism in "Where I'm Calling From" each time I read it, and each time I think How in God's name could I have missed that all these years?
I missed that because Carver is a true master of the form, and his gift for subtle, simple imagery may be unmatched. All those references to fires, hearths, flames, chimneys, chimney sweeps, and wells in the title story? They add up to an impressionist masterpiece, and there are several in this volume.
Show Less
LibraryThing member AliceAnna
Very dark, very well-written and overall very depressing. An overriding theme of dysfunctional relationships. Didn't really care for him even though the stories were well-crafted.
LibraryThing member andyray
the man has a singular voice, and for the life of me i don't know what it is that grips me so about his fiction. maybe it's the way he eases us into his fictional world? the stories are mostly vignettes rather than following the classical story line, but the endings are always guaranteed to leave
Show More
one thinking. Show Less
LibraryThing member TheAmpersand
You can't knock Raymond Carver's craftsmanship. The care he took to set up his stories, the details he included that spoke volumes about his characters' lives, and his determination to find stories in the sort ordinary rural and suburban towns that were well off the cultural map during most of his
My problem with Carver is something I suspect that other people like him for: his stories are perfectly composed. They're so perfectly composed that I sometimes can't find the life in them. Their plot elements complement and balance each other so perfectly that his stories often feel like they were designed to be discussed in a college English course. Reading the stories in "Where I'm Calling From," I sometimes imagined that I could sense the author setting traps for the reader. The questions are already prepared for us: what is the pain that that man is hiding? Why can't that woman see what's right in front of her? They feel, sometimes, not like stories but like puzzles. Beautifully constructed puzzles, but still small, self-contained devices that start somewhere, end somewhere, and take few left turns between those points. Somewhere in here, you can sense the stirrings of that lamentable, self-conscious, ostentatiously minimalist genre that's sometimes referred to as "New Yorker fiction."
I think that Carver's stories also might, somewhat uncharitably, be described as a succession of twentieth-century Americans interacting in living rooms, workplaces, fields, and commercial spaces in unremarkable towns, described in prose so austerely minimal that it verges on reportage. The settings' ordinariness seems to follow the prose's no-nonsense spareness. There's a particular Hopper-esque American realism to many of them, minus much of the sunshine: cocktails are drunk, jobs done, cigarettes -- and the occasional joint -- are continually smoked. Characters cheat on their boyfriends or girlfriends, break up their marriages, get into arguments, discipline their children, make mistakes, and, sometimes, reach small oases of peace within their lives. It's difficult, sometimes, to argue that real life as we live it consists of much else, but this stuff is unlikely to speak to readers who'd prefer to focus on fiction's wider possibilities. Carver's characters -- and particularly his male characters -- belong, I think, to an older, often Midwestern, American type that came along well-before its culture became psychologized and infinitely more communicative: they're often stoic, responsible, closed-mouthed, and unwilling to voice their feelings and, often, unlikely to empathize with others. And perhaps these portraits are accurate. And in some of his stories, such as "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love," "A Small Good Thing," and the title story, some light and looseness starts to creep into Carver's work. But they wore on me after a while. I can see, I think, why Carver has his fans: as examples short stories, much of what's here is just terrific. But most of them never really connected with me, and I'm not sure they meant to. Maybe I'm more of a sentimental reader than I imagined, but, praise them as I might, I just can't love them.
Show More
life are all admirable. I can't help but respect him as a writer. But I can't say I enjoy his stuff. My problem with Carver is something I suspect that other people like him for: his stories are perfectly composed. They're so perfectly composed that I sometimes can't find the life in them. Their plot elements complement and balance each other so perfectly that his stories often feel like they were designed to be discussed in a college English course. Reading the stories in "Where I'm Calling From," I sometimes imagined that I could sense the author setting traps for the reader. The questions are already prepared for us: what is the pain that that man is hiding? Why can't that woman see what's right in front of her? They feel, sometimes, not like stories but like puzzles. Beautifully constructed puzzles, but still small, self-contained devices that start somewhere, end somewhere, and take few left turns between those points. Somewhere in here, you can sense the stirrings of that lamentable, self-conscious, ostentatiously minimalist genre that's sometimes referred to as "New Yorker fiction."
I think that Carver's stories also might, somewhat uncharitably, be described as a succession of twentieth-century Americans interacting in living rooms, workplaces, fields, and commercial spaces in unremarkable towns, described in prose so austerely minimal that it verges on reportage. The settings' ordinariness seems to follow the prose's no-nonsense spareness. There's a particular Hopper-esque American realism to many of them, minus much of the sunshine: cocktails are drunk, jobs done, cigarettes -- and the occasional joint -- are continually smoked. Characters cheat on their boyfriends or girlfriends, break up their marriages, get into arguments, discipline their children, make mistakes, and, sometimes, reach small oases of peace within their lives. It's difficult, sometimes, to argue that real life as we live it consists of much else, but this stuff is unlikely to speak to readers who'd prefer to focus on fiction's wider possibilities. Carver's characters -- and particularly his male characters -- belong, I think, to an older, often Midwestern, American type that came along well-before its culture became psychologized and infinitely more communicative: they're often stoic, responsible, closed-mouthed, and unwilling to voice their feelings and, often, unlikely to empathize with others. And perhaps these portraits are accurate. And in some of his stories, such as "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love," "A Small Good Thing," and the title story, some light and looseness starts to creep into Carver's work. But they wore on me after a while. I can see, I think, why Carver has his fans: as examples short stories, much of what's here is just terrific. But most of them never really connected with me, and I'm not sure they meant to. Maybe I'm more of a sentimental reader than I imagined, but, praise them as I might, I just can't love them.
Show Less
LibraryThing member blake.rosser
Carver writes haunting stories, and in many ways they are sort of mundane horror tales, as in the horrors of everyday life and everyday troubles and marital strife and whatnot. They are stories of anxiety and depression and the characters feeling like they just can't take it anymore, whatever that
Reading an entire volume of 30 or so of these stories is difficult, so I'd recommend sprinkling two to five stories in between novels or other reading ventures. But still, the man's skill is undeniable, and some of the stories stay with you for a long time afterward.
Some of the most memorable for me were the first two, "Nobody Said Anything" and "Bicycles, Muscles, Cigarettes," along with "What Do You Do in San Francisco?", "Neighbors," "Gazebo," "Chef's House," and "Elephant." Two of his best stories, in my opinion, are two of the most optimistic, the uplifting "Fever" and the tragic but hopeful "A Small, Good Thing." And perhaps the most fascinating is the last story, "Errand," a radical departure for Carver of historical fiction concerning the death of Chekhov.
In sum, great stuff, but hard to handle for a long sitting.
Show More
"it" may be.Reading an entire volume of 30 or so of these stories is difficult, so I'd recommend sprinkling two to five stories in between novels or other reading ventures. But still, the man's skill is undeniable, and some of the stories stay with you for a long time afterward.
Some of the most memorable for me were the first two, "Nobody Said Anything" and "Bicycles, Muscles, Cigarettes," along with "What Do You Do in San Francisco?", "Neighbors," "Gazebo," "Chef's House," and "Elephant." Two of his best stories, in my opinion, are two of the most optimistic, the uplifting "Fever" and the tragic but hopeful "A Small, Good Thing." And perhaps the most fascinating is the last story, "Errand," a radical departure for Carver of historical fiction concerning the death of Chekhov.
In sum, great stuff, but hard to handle for a long sitting.
Show Less
LibraryThing member davidabrams
August 2, 1988 was one of the saddest days of my life. It was the day Raymond Carver died of lung cancer. He was fifty years old and, in the course of his relatively short life, he’d set the literary world spinning on a new course with his sparse-but-intense short stories. "Where I’m Calling
Carver shattered the literary world, but he also sent an earthquake rumbling through my own life. I was in my early 20s, struggling as a new husband, father and working-class wage-earner, when I first read something by Carver. It was an essay called "Fires" in a collection of essays, stories and poems of the same name. I can’t remember what I was doing at the time, but I know that at some point while reading "Fires," my knees buckled and I had to sit down. Somehow, Carver had captured my life in his words. In the essay, he describes his early days as a struggling writer (yep, I thought, that’s me) and having to compete for a dryer at a public laundromat (yep, been there, too, Ray). And then he wrote:
"I remember thinking at that moment, amid the feelings of helpless frustration that had me close to tears, that nothing—and, brother, I mean nothing—that ever happened to me on this earth could come anywhere close, could possibly be as important to me, could make as much difference, as the fact that I had two children. And that I would always have them and always find myself in this position of unrelieved responsibility and permanent distraction."
Unrelieved responsibility and permanent distraction. I gulped and looked over my shoulder to see if Carver was standing there, taking notes on my life.
Since that day, I’ve read everything Carver ever wrote and I have never failed to be impressed at how well he captures the heart and soul of American life. His characters are always burdened with things like divorce, alcoholism and that unrelieved responsibility of life. Yet, glum as this sounds, there’s also a spirit of hope threaded throughout his stories. There is pain, but there is love, too.
Carver was not the first writer to use the minimalist style he became notorious for (neither, for that matter, was Hemingway), but he did bring a refreshing voice to American literature at a time when it so desperately needed renewal (the late 1970s and early 1980s).
Some of the best stories in "Where I’m Calling From" include "One More Thing," "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love," "Distance" and "Cathedral." My favorite Carver story is also here—"A Serious Talk," in which the image of a pumpkin pie dropped in a driveway carries so much thematic weight. I could read this story once a week for the rest of my life and still be moved. The same goes for the short-short called "Little Things" (elsewhere, it bears the title "Popular Mechanics"). In the space of about 500 words, Carver delivers a deeply shattering modern fable about the effects of child custody. The whole collection ends with "Errand," the last story Carver wrote. It’s a change of pace, fleshier and more lyrical and, for the first time, not set in twentieth-century America. "Errand" is about the last night in the life of Anton Chekhov, the great Russian short story writer. It is an elegy which, ironically, shadows Carver’s own death shortly after he wrote it. It’s also fitting that Chekhov was the subject of Carver’s last work. If anyone is worthy of the Russian’s crown, it is Carver.
In "…When We Talk About Raymond Carver," a collection of interviews with Carver’s friends and fellow writers, Richard Ford says that in his writing, Carver "attempted to give language to things—to moments in life—which, until you read his story, you never realized existed…His stories made you pay close attention to life."
"Where I’m Calling From" is filled with those kind of moments. On every page, there is a fresh revelation about the way we live our lives. And everywhere, you’ll see the big generous heart of Carver himself.
I’ll miss you, Ray.
Show More
From" collects the best works published during Carver’s lifetime and adds seven new unpublished stories.Carver shattered the literary world, but he also sent an earthquake rumbling through my own life. I was in my early 20s, struggling as a new husband, father and working-class wage-earner, when I first read something by Carver. It was an essay called "Fires" in a collection of essays, stories and poems of the same name. I can’t remember what I was doing at the time, but I know that at some point while reading "Fires," my knees buckled and I had to sit down. Somehow, Carver had captured my life in his words. In the essay, he describes his early days as a struggling writer (yep, I thought, that’s me) and having to compete for a dryer at a public laundromat (yep, been there, too, Ray). And then he wrote:
"I remember thinking at that moment, amid the feelings of helpless frustration that had me close to tears, that nothing—and, brother, I mean nothing—that ever happened to me on this earth could come anywhere close, could possibly be as important to me, could make as much difference, as the fact that I had two children. And that I would always have them and always find myself in this position of unrelieved responsibility and permanent distraction."
Unrelieved responsibility and permanent distraction. I gulped and looked over my shoulder to see if Carver was standing there, taking notes on my life.
Since that day, I’ve read everything Carver ever wrote and I have never failed to be impressed at how well he captures the heart and soul of American life. His characters are always burdened with things like divorce, alcoholism and that unrelieved responsibility of life. Yet, glum as this sounds, there’s also a spirit of hope threaded throughout his stories. There is pain, but there is love, too.
Carver was not the first writer to use the minimalist style he became notorious for (neither, for that matter, was Hemingway), but he did bring a refreshing voice to American literature at a time when it so desperately needed renewal (the late 1970s and early 1980s).
Some of the best stories in "Where I’m Calling From" include "One More Thing," "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love," "Distance" and "Cathedral." My favorite Carver story is also here—"A Serious Talk," in which the image of a pumpkin pie dropped in a driveway carries so much thematic weight. I could read this story once a week for the rest of my life and still be moved. The same goes for the short-short called "Little Things" (elsewhere, it bears the title "Popular Mechanics"). In the space of about 500 words, Carver delivers a deeply shattering modern fable about the effects of child custody. The whole collection ends with "Errand," the last story Carver wrote. It’s a change of pace, fleshier and more lyrical and, for the first time, not set in twentieth-century America. "Errand" is about the last night in the life of Anton Chekhov, the great Russian short story writer. It is an elegy which, ironically, shadows Carver’s own death shortly after he wrote it. It’s also fitting that Chekhov was the subject of Carver’s last work. If anyone is worthy of the Russian’s crown, it is Carver.
In "…When We Talk About Raymond Carver," a collection of interviews with Carver’s friends and fellow writers, Richard Ford says that in his writing, Carver "attempted to give language to things—to moments in life—which, until you read his story, you never realized existed…His stories made you pay close attention to life."
"Where I’m Calling From" is filled with those kind of moments. On every page, there is a fresh revelation about the way we live our lives. And everywhere, you’ll see the big generous heart of Carver himself.
I’ll miss you, Ray.
Show Less
LibraryThing member thatotter
I've been reading this for a long time because when I started to read the stories one after another, as I usually do, they started to run together. The best Carver stories feel like the tip of an iceberg, making you think that the real change might happen outside of the narrative.
Some of my
Some of my
Show More
favorites are: Cathedral; Blackberry Pie; Fat; Errand; A Serious Talk; Neighbors; A Small, Good Thing; and Bicycles, Muscles, Cigarettes. Show Less
LibraryThing member alienhard
Carver, some of the best short story writing ever. Powerful, simple, and rich. I found them to be so rich in fact, that I didn't want to read more than a few at a time. Too much to ponder in each one.
Cathedral, Where I'm Calling From, Nobody Said Anything, and Are These Actual Miles are
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED
Cathedral, Where I'm Calling From, Nobody Said Anything, and Are These Actual Miles are
Show More
particularly amazing and should be read by everyone. Find them online if you don't have access to the book.HIGHLY RECOMMENDED
Show Less
LibraryThing member upstairsgirl
I didn't finish this book, which is rare for me. I know Carver is meant to be a genius of the short story, but I find his characters difficult to care about, and he is mean to cats one too many times for my taste. I just don't see what everyone else does.
LibraryThing member sarasalted
Not much to be said is there? This is Carver, he knew what he was doing, I am pleased to read his words. Really pleased.
LibraryThing member donp
The first collection of shorts that I've ever read all the way through, in order, from front to back.
LibraryThing member iayork
Nice introduction to contemporary writing: I am a hopeless lit. snob. I read only classics. When new books are presented to me, especially books with works published less than 40 years ago, I tend to be very cautious. Raymond Carver's collection may have just changed that. He's accessible to a wide
Whether you aren't much of a reader or have books upon books that you've read and loved, this collection has something you can enjoy.
Show More
array of readers, from hardcore English majors to "the working man" about whom he so often writes. Stories vary in length from a few pages to over ten, and while some seem to have impenetrable depth of thought, many are easily enjoyed without thinking TOO hard :) Whether you aren't much of a reader or have books upon books that you've read and loved, this collection has something you can enjoy.
Show Less
LibraryThing member Thomas.Cannon
Carver is the master of the short story. His characters are stark and powerful. His stories will stick with you.
LibraryThing member esrafil
that was fantastic
LibraryThing member Dabble58
So lovely. I got this book from the library and I must buy it for inspiration. Carver's short stories are miniature mirabilia - utter joy to read, deep without seeming so. I'd read one, getting ready for bed, but then had to read another. They are like delicious chocolates.
I've read some comments
I've read some comments
Show More
about how most of Carver's early stuff was really shaped by his editor at the New Yorker. If that's so, he learned the lesson well, as his later stories are equally excellent. There's a good sprinkling of stories here - Cathedral, What we talk about when we talk about love, etc, etc. Get your hands on it. Spend some time with Carver. You won't regret it. Show Less
LibraryThing member jklavanian
Put off by the theme of alcoholism running throughout the majority of stories.My favorite, and one of his last (?), Errand -- about the last years and days of Chekhov. Also beautiful - Where I'm Calling From.
I guess I'm not a fan of gritty storytelling, another example being Stuart Dybek's I
I guess I'm not a fan of gritty storytelling, another example being Stuart Dybek's I
Show More
Sailed With Magellan. Show Less
LibraryThing member charlie68
An eclectic group of stories that really shows the breadth of Mr. Carver's talent.
LibraryThing member baswood
"Maxine said it was another tragedy in a long line of low-rent tragedies"
This is a quote from one of the 37 short stories featured in this collection and could summarise many of those stories. [Where I'm Calling from] was published in 1988 the year of Carver's death and features stories that
Carver appears to have been an alcoholic for much of his adult life, in the mid 1970's he claimed that he had given up writing and had taken to full time drinking. In his stories almost everyone drinks and as a good proportion of them are written in the first person they have an autobiographical feel to them. His characters are exceptionally well drawn and their dialogue hits the mark almost every-time. Couples argue and fight, cheat and deceive, pretend they do not see what is right in front of their eyes. They act like people in a TV soap opera, but are totally convincing. Some of the stories are mere snapshots of events in his characters lives, but have a lasting impression, there is often not a clear resolution and God forbid there should be happy ending.
Almost all the characters are white Americans, lower middle class or blue collar workers, none of them are out and out criminals, but often choose to act out of pure self interest or are dumbed down by the need to earn a living in a society that takes few prisoners. Mostly it is not a pretty picture and like people who suffer with alcoholism there appears to be an overlying trait of self deception. It is a sobering collection.
Carver when he was able, taught literature at colleges and was a guest lecturer as creative writing courses, but took on miscellaneous jobs when he needed. He states in the preface to this collection that his chosen medium was short stories and was interested in paring the stories down to precise images that reflected the real situations that he was depicting. How far he succeeded in this and how near he came to presenting a culture of a section of life in 1970's America will probably depend on each readers own experiences. Sexist and occasionally racist in accordance with the unenlightened 1970's but good short story writing that can be uncomfortable to read: 4 stars.
This is a quote from one of the 37 short stories featured in this collection and could summarise many of those stories. [Where I'm Calling from] was published in 1988 the year of Carver's death and features stories that
Show More
appeared in magazines and earlier collections published between 1971 and 1987. The main subject of the stories is American suburban life, but one might also add alcoholism. Many have an unnerving feel of real life situations as characters fight or succumb to events that appear largely out of their control. They fight against taking another drink or succumb to having another shot, always looking over their shoulder, but never quite becoming destitute. Men cheat on their wives, on their girlfriends and occasionally the women fight back. It is a tawdry selection of subjects on which Carver has chosen to base his stories, but they are so well written and so convincing that they draw the reader in. Carver appears to have been an alcoholic for much of his adult life, in the mid 1970's he claimed that he had given up writing and had taken to full time drinking. In his stories almost everyone drinks and as a good proportion of them are written in the first person they have an autobiographical feel to them. His characters are exceptionally well drawn and their dialogue hits the mark almost every-time. Couples argue and fight, cheat and deceive, pretend they do not see what is right in front of their eyes. They act like people in a TV soap opera, but are totally convincing. Some of the stories are mere snapshots of events in his characters lives, but have a lasting impression, there is often not a clear resolution and God forbid there should be happy ending.
Almost all the characters are white Americans, lower middle class or blue collar workers, none of them are out and out criminals, but often choose to act out of pure self interest or are dumbed down by the need to earn a living in a society that takes few prisoners. Mostly it is not a pretty picture and like people who suffer with alcoholism there appears to be an overlying trait of self deception. It is a sobering collection.
Carver when he was able, taught literature at colleges and was a guest lecturer as creative writing courses, but took on miscellaneous jobs when he needed. He states in the preface to this collection that his chosen medium was short stories and was interested in paring the stories down to precise images that reflected the real situations that he was depicting. How far he succeeded in this and how near he came to presenting a culture of a section of life in 1970's America will probably depend on each readers own experiences. Sexist and occasionally racist in accordance with the unenlightened 1970's but good short story writing that can be uncomfortable to read: 4 stars.
Show Less
Subjects
Awards
Pulitzer Prize (Finalist — Fiction — 1989)
National Book Critics Circle Award (Finalist — Fiction — 1988)
Ambassador Book Award (Winner — Fiction — 1989)
Notable Books List (1988)
Language
Original language
English
Original publication date
1988
Physical description
526 p.; 5.13 inches
ISBN
0679722319 / 9780679722311