The Natural Father – Robert Lacy

The Natural Father is one of those stories that I really enjoy simply because it sheds a little more light on what it is to be a human in this strange/ world we live.
It presents a slice of life that has been repeated countless numbers of times and does what a good piece of literature should – it reminds us of the flaws and imperfections of humans – the difficult choices we all face, choices that may see harsh or wrong to others but could…might just be the right choice.
A compassionate presentation of a character – flaws included draws you in this story – and as much as you want to hate him for what he does – and you know that what he is doing is wrong, and you know that he knows what he is doing is wrong, you feel sympathy for him and this is achieved through the skill of the author.


Lacy explains in his contributors notes that he worked on this story for six years. Would I EVER have the patience to do something like that? Such drive and determination…that’s what makes a great author. The willingness to stick it out with a story and a character – one that you love…all those years.

Concerning the final decision made by the main character in this short. In the end, it probably benefited the child and Butters knew it…and some thought given to this by the reader is another endearing characteristic that Lacy gives his character.
At first it seems cruel – abandonment, shirking responsibility – but the life of the child could be better without the interference of this man – and those thoughts are free to form as you walk away from this story – another aspect, in my opinion of what makes a good short – a story that allows you to question yourself.

DeDe – Mavis Gallant

In past blog entries I have written several times about the trouble I have with Gallant. I have addressed it with honesty I believe and I don’t think I have shoved her aside with a short post on her story.


Below, you can find links to her other stories I addressed that were collected in the BASS.


Speck's Idea


Kingdom Come


The Assembly


Lena


The Remission




There are just some authors that I’ll never “get”. Unfortunately, Mavis is one. I tried with DeDe to read it in different settings…to attempt to appreciate what she is writing…the story she is telling…but DAMN! I just can’t get her. At least not today. I believe that someday there may be a time that I’ll happen across a story by her and perhaps it’ll click. For now..No..it’s just not happening.


It’s been suggested that I need to slow down when I read Gallant. Actually, I think I need to slow down when I read any of these authors. I need to appreciate that these authors worked hard on the word placement that creates the sentences and paragraphs and stories I ingest.


Their stories are not like these silly posts that are just dashed up on this site. No, they sometimes are created over years before they see being bound into a collection. My failure to recognize this leads to a lack of complete appreciation for the author and the story.

P.S.

I just finished The Hunger Diaries -in the latest issue of the New Yorker - here is their abstract:

Excerpts from Mavis Gallant’s diary. The entries are from March to June, 1952, when Gallant was living hand to mouth in Spain, giving English lessons and anxiously awaiting payment for her New Yorker stories to arrive via her literary agent.

It is a wonderful read and if you are a fan of Gallant - it's a must read.

The Water Faucet Vision – Gish Jen

My son is still too young to understand conversations that M and I have. I’m convinced that he understands the tone, and of course he does a wonderful job of reading facial expressions. M and I seldom have serious discussions in front of him, and of course we never argue in front of him. Our deep discussions are usually held after he is asleep.

One day, he will understand everything said and there will be times where the subjects we discuss could lead him to develop characteristics that define who he is.

Finances were always discussed openly around the dinner table and the difficulties that most middle-class families were discussed daily.

I didn’t like all the money talk and I hated the fact that so much of our lives depended so much upon either having it or not.

M and I both want to leave those discussions out of dinner table talk but I have a feeling that that it will creep in. W will want to have this or that…go places…and we’ll have to teach him the role that money plays in our life.

I wonder if W will have the time to wonder.

I remember that I spent what would seem to be hours just staring out my window.

I remember doing that more than I remember playing alone. I didn’t read as a child…what did I do with my time? I wasn’t allowed to watch much TV.

I seldom have time – or it feels that I never have time just to wonder.

I want W to have visions. I want him to see things spring from his mind. To create.

Police Dreams – Richard Bausch

Being a child of divorce, and now, being married (happily) and having a son, stories like Police Dreams resonate just a little more than it might have 15 years ago.

This was a strong offering by Bausch and I’m glad that Helprin included it.

It’s scary and it’s one of those stories that cause you to wonder if it prompted other readers to look a little harder at their relationship with their spouse.

I wonder sometimes how a partner in a marriage can miss certain signs from the other. I think that I am pretty attuned to M and I can read her quite well. We are in constant communication through the day, and she is very comfortable letting me know what’s on her mind.

But, I must admit, I have had the fear, and I wonder if it’s a fear of many men in stable relationships, that one day, something will just snap, and your significant other will just unload on you – ending it all.

I have a job where I can leave work at work and it isn’t necessary for me to bring it home in the evenings. We usually discuss the day on our way home and sometimes the events creep into discussions at dinner – rarely beyond that time.

Perhaps the husband in this story was too self-absorbed in his work to read the signs that his wife was giving.

The tone that the wife takes made me quite uncomfortable – and I couldn’t imagine being in a relationship that had deteriorated into the mess that unfolds through the story.