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I love Raymond Carver's almost, and I can't believe I'm saying this phrase, 'working class' manner of writing, and by this I don't mean subject matter necessarily, I mean his economy of language, using only what will do and deliberate short at that. Words that are chosen for their simple directness but covey plenty more. People who drink, and people who watch TV- sometimes both, and people in and out of jobs. That's what Carver writes about. People say reading Carver changes their lives. Sure. Maybe. But this collection, Cathedral, that I read years after reading a burst of Carver, I dunno. They seem very similar to me- good, don't get me wrong, but it wasn't as though I finished a sentence and put the book down and thought, 'fuck yes, he gets it'. The titular story, 'Cathedral' was good, but the ending- like so many of the stories I found reading this- seemed to easy. The ending just ends for many of them, or there is some 'lesson', fine, but I don't know. Maybe it's not 'speaking' to me as I wanted the stories to, or many I've grown up since last reading Carver. There are so many good bits, and this is not a bad review by any means. 'Cathedral' wonderfully takes the point of view of a husband, the second one, being observational to a friend of his wife- a blind man- appearing for a visit. The Train, a small gem of a story, Where I'm Calling From, Vitamins (wonderful), Feathers (so much to pick at) and A Small, Good Thing were exquisitely written. A Small, Good Thing struck me the most, it details something so strangely real- everyone acts the way they should and only we, the readers, get the full picture. In the end an understanding is made, things conclude for the readers- we don't know how the rest of the day progresses for the three characters, and a small good thing like freshly baked bread can make all the difference when everything has changed.
Read it. I can't say it changed my life, but it could to yours.
Read it. I can't say it changed my life, but it could to yours.