Something that Happened – Jayne Anne Phillips

Jayne Anne Phillips Born July 1952

With this selection, I feel that JCO has offered the reader a glimpse into the future of American literature. Phillips had not reached her 30^th birthday on publication of her short in BASS. Quite an honor.

The subject matter she touches on in her story, on refection, is a perfect slice of American society at the end of the 70’s. Divorce, generational gaps, feminism, health and mental issues, relationships between siblings and relationships between parents and their children...both appropriate and what is perceived by a character as inappropriate.

I reflected back once again to the late 1970s and my position in this world during that time. Once again, I think my family was lucky in some senses considering what some other families could have been going through behind the doors of their households. Sure we had divorce, but really, that was the worst thing that happened. There could have been a whole house of horrors that could have visited us.

Phillips is still writing – good books. Books that make lists – good lists. She teaches as well. And, she has found herself writing interesting pieces for interesting times, pieces that cause readers to question her motivation and direction...but, that is the duty of an artist and a writer. Isn’t it? I’m happy to have run into her so early in this journey, and I suspect that I will find her once again down the road in my reading.

Score – 8 out of 10.

The New Music – Donald Barthelme

Donald Barthelme - April 7, 1931 – July 23, 1989

Pwthvwtzzzz....that is my attempt at placing into words/letters the sound that came out of my mouth after reading “The New Music”.

That was a rough one.

Admittedly, I entered into this story knowing a bit about Barthelme from what JCO wrote about him in a recent writing for a collection, on what and who influences writers. She spoke of her relationship professionally and socially. In short, I felt that she held him in pretty high regard. She also addresses him quite a bit in her Journal.

Perhaps I haven’t indulged in enough “experimental” writing.

I suppose I am too accustomed to a certain “type” of story that runs in these anthologies.

I think I expected more from JCO – I can’t hold anything against Barthelme, she chose the story.

Was this his best writing from that year or was there some pressure to include him?

I don’t know – I just feel let down by the selection. Bummer.

5 out of 10.

Home is the Hero – Bernard Malamud

Bernard Malamud- April 26, 1914 – March 18, 1986.

I wrote in my last entry about losing interest early in the particular reading and not giving the story the chance that it deserved...cheating myself out of a lesson. I’m afraid I did the same with this story, but I was able to pull through at the end, and see the gem that was hidden within this boulder.

First about Malamud. As part of this project, I do a bit of research on the authors. I look for a photo to include with the entry, a nice quote by the author concerning life, or more specifically, the writing life, and from time to time, I’ll find an author that has an online presence and I’ll write to them and let them know that there is still a reader out there reading their work.

For some reason, I had heard of Malamud. Not sure where. Perhaps it was from “The Natural” or on of the literary prizes he won. In any case, it was nice to learn about him. I discovered that he was a slow writer. Eight novels and many, many shorts.

He taught at a university and was restricted to teaching lower courses because he had not finished his Ph.D. Due to this, he was able to devote time to his writing which in turn allowed him to develop into on of the greatest American authors.

Flannery O’Connor had this to say about him : “I have discovered a short-story writer who is better than any of them, including myself”. Nice I suppose but a bit haughty...then again, it is O’Connor.

And then a couple of quotes I enjoyed.

"I write a book or a short story three times. Once to understand her, the second time to improve her prose, and a third to compel her to say what it still must say."

"Life is a tragedy full of joy."

So, on to the story and its lesson.

A mistake I made before I started this story was to look to see where I was in the volume, and if I was going to be able to finish it by the end of the weekend. I assured myself that I could, and set out reading the story. Initially found the story dull, and made another mistake of flipping ahead to see how many more pages I had left in the story. I discovered that there were quite a few more pages and this took the wind right out of my sails. I would struggle on 2 or 3 more occasions to finish the story, but once I did finish, I discovered that what I had just read was indeed one of the best stories in the collection.

Perhaps I needed to take the story in parts. Break it up. Read it in different settings. I’ll have to remember this.

The lesson.

Once again, I feel that this story has opened a door to my life and reminded me that the behavior I cast upon my loved ones may not be the finest I have to offer.

I need patience. I need to see that what those close to me are actually doing done out of love. I am so fortunate to have a life and a family that dwell in a sphere of caring and compassion for each other. Especially my wife.

It was painful to read of the actions that the main character put his wife through and eventually himself through. I suppose it was so because they were actions that I could see myself projecting (minus the infidelity part).

Once again, a story comes through at the right time in life and instructs.

I can easily see myself Xeroxing these someday for someone and giving them out as lessons in life. – Why not?

For now though, I’ll use them to instruct me – in love, and care and selflessness.

Score 9 out of 10.

A Lingering Death – Silvia Tennenbaum

Silvia Tennenbaum March 10, 1928

This story started off a bit slow for me and as a consequence, I quickly lost interest. I then had to remind myself that what I was attempting to do was to educate myself in life through the reading of these stories and it was my duty to look and approach each of these stories with an open mind willing to accept their message.

I don’t think that the lesson fully appeared until I read the beauty of the last few lines of the story.

“Where the meadow had been, there hung only a white sheet. Amalie wanted to vomit; the words would not come. In the bathroom her head struck the edge of the basin. The pain was new, a blessing. A song of praise escaped from her mouth. Black paint welled over the sheet.”

I think this story is another fine example of Joyce Carol Oates using her position as the volume editor to provide the reader with a selection that they may find somewhat unsettling.

She feels that it is her duty in her writing to bring forth the subjects that many may shy away from, and this selection, she recruits Tennenbaum to help us face a cause of death that is pretty common, and as such, one that may take us.

–Cancer- a stroke?

Either of these could come at a moment...A stroke like an 18 wheeler smashing through our brain. Cancer sneaking through our cells-a hungry worm.

I don’t think I have an abnormal fascination with my own death, but it is something that I consider and contemplate quite a bit. I wonder when it will come and how it will happen. Quick and painless (preferred) or slow and filled with searing pain (uh...no please).

I also have it in my mind that I will live to a ripe old age. I would really enjoy that. A ripe old age with my mind intact. I am doing my best to prevent any degeneration in my mental facilities and am keeping close watch seeing that I may be predisposed to what “the old man” is suffering through.

Will I shun treatments like the character in this story? Live life? No on the first and yes on the second.

Score 8 out of 10.