Some Manhattan in New England – Peter LaSalle


Peter LaSalle

Born May 27, 1947

Whew...this was a tough one. I reaaaaallly had to concentrate to make it through this story. I wonder if my modern ADD mind was not ready for a story crafted as this was. To make it short and sweet, I found another entry into BASS that just didn’t make it onto my list of stories that will remain with me.

What did the story gift me with? Well, to be a jerk, it didn’t give me much, but stole about 20 minutes of my life.


I suppose though that I have been in situations where I have wasted 20 minutes in a worse way. Thinking of that, I need to carry this book with me more. The problem I have though is that I have a tough time reading in areas where distractions are abundant. I’m also afraid that I’ll loose my book. I think I lost one of my O. Henry prize books before, and I think there is a subconscious drive in me that forbids me from carrying books into public.

Reading about LaSalle, and all of his past writings and awards, I was upset with the selection Oates provided.

For the life of me, I could not figure out where this story was going or from where it came.

I will though give it a point for providing me with a couple of sentences that will stick with me (unlike the rest of the story).

“After I died, I returned to the mill city to visit him as a visible ghost on June 15, 1953. I loved him so much that I wanted to hug him right there. I wanted to tell him that although I was dead, real love somehow goes beyond that. But we argued again, and it was never said.”

Score 4 out of 10.

2 comments:

  1. Hi. I went to high school at Fort Hunt in Alexandria, and one of my good friends married a Peter LaSalle. I was wondering if your wife could be Sally Dodge? She can look for her friend Wendy on facebook, or I will try to check this blog somehow. I am also on the Fort Hunt site on facebook.
    Sorry to bother you if this isn't the right one. Wendy

    ReplyDelete
  2. Please revisit Mr. LaSalle. Take a look at "Tell Borges If You See Him."
    And read his short, "A Late Afternoon Swim." Remarkable, really.

    ReplyDelete

  Before I dive into this wonderful little story, I’ll do what I always seem to do in these entries and wander down a path that has absolute...