Enormous Changes at the Last Minute ~ Grace Paley Export

I think it's great to be a member of this team, and I'm rarin' to go with this book! Hope we get a lot of readers who like this writer as much as we do. I've been reading a comprhensive biography of Grace Paley, and thought you might be interested in some of the excerpts: Enormous Changes at the last Minute not only plays off the title of Paley’s first volume (The Little Disturbances of Man), but also features the same setting and several of the same characters. While the seventeen tales that make up this second collection are not “war stories,” they do reflect the moral imperative that informs her politics “As a woman I’m trying to restore something to the scales, so that the woman can be seen–not as she has been ,” Paley explained to Ms. Interviewer Harriet Shapiro. “It may come from my political feelings, but I think art, literature, fiction, poetry, whatever it is, makes justice in the world. That’s why it almost always has to be on the side of the underdog.” As Ivan Gold reports about Paley’s long stretches between books, “during her literary lean years Grace Paley’s life was fat. She gave to the roles of wife and mother the profound, existential attention her readers would have been able to predict. “ Paley also submerged herself in political activities—distributing anti-war pamphlets, marching on the Capitol, and traveling overseas to protest America’s involvement in Vietnam. “I think I could have done more for peace,” she told People, “ if I’d written about the war, but I happen to love being in the streets.” Her recent commitments are the women’s movement and antimilitarist groups.. Lorrie

Lorrie, that is SO great, it's just that kind of thing that makes our discussions SING here, I want to hear more about Grace Paley.

And a bright good morning to you all on our first day of discussing our FIRST book of short stories here in the Book Club Online. For some reason I know a lot of people don't LIKE short stories, and yet I think they can be as stunning and/ or vital as any genre, and I'm interested to see how they fit together and if the quality continues throughout the book.

We have four short stories to look at in this first week, so I hope we can take some time with the first one, "Wants," for a couple of days.

This story just blew me away. In an offhand, casual way she sears a picture forever on your mind. Is the theme "wants?" Her ex husband whom she met on the street made the statement, "I'm doing well this year and can look forward to better. But as for you, it's too late. You'll always want nothing."

He might be speaking Hindustani for all the sense that makes to me! Surely wanting nothing can not be considered a fault. How IS it that other people, whether or not you are married to them, have the right to make such judgment calls on another? This is very well done, the reader can sense the bewliderment of the speaker, whose mind we temporarily inhabit. We can sense her feeling of....what IS it? She turned around and the kids were grown, she turned around and her books were 18 years overdue? Have you ever done anything like that? She thought of bringing the books back, but was caught up in her days, and couldn't finish.

Is she so caught up in defending herself that she doesn't have time to do anything else?

This just blew me away: "Now, it's true, I'm short of requests and absolute requirements. But I do want something .

I want, for instance, to be a different person."

Gosh.

What is your take on this thing, on the character, on how it may or may not relate to all of us?

I haven't read any other Grace Paley, but this one won't be my last.

Ginny

I want, for instance, to be a different person."

A dream that I have always considered, and then I wake up and realize, I'm reasonably happy in my setting.

But it is necessary to be aware that one should look for improvement and change in order to stay interested in life.

Is that what she wants?

I wonder if the other stories will seem as enigmatic to me as this one does. It's probably misplaced, but the bit about "the hole in their kitchen closet opening into their neighbors' where they always ate sugar-cured smoked bacon" struck me as very funny.Especially when she says "it gave us a very grand feeling about breakfast but we never got stuffed and sluggish." Incidentally, the lack of quotation marks sort of throws me off--this will probably diminish as we go on. Lorrie

Lorrie--enjoyed your summary from the bio. I heard Grace Paley interviewed yesterday on CBC radio....she talked of the same points you put forth....the interview was done because there is a collection of her prose just published ....said she had beena political activitst since a pre-teen; her parents were thus in Russia during 1904-05; normal for her household. She said she folds her short stories around human error and self-deception. Writes on little things in stories which are really underlying big issues. Currently living in rural Vermont.

---Marj

Funny, but I read "Wants" several weeks ago, just to preview what was coming this month, and didn't particularly enjoy it. But, I read it again last night and found a lot in a short space to chuckle about and wonder about and admire.

I don't know why but I absolutely loved that she returned those long-overdue books and them immediately checked them back out again. And then returned them again, unread but not overdue (not so stated but I assumed). Wow - she not only wiped her record clean but in very short order fulfilled one of her wants - became the sort of woman who returns books in two weeks. I betcha many of us can relate.

This lady has endeared herself to me. Not having looked ahead I don't know if she will be in the other stories but I hope so.

We could probably have huge discussions just on paragraphs alone. What a gifted author.

What a fabulous beginning! When she checked out the books she had just returned - note the titles. The House of Mirth and The Children. The 2 things she had only wanted. She held onto them -the mirth, gaity and merriment- (the children.)

She held onto all she wanted. She already knows how life in the US changed in 27 yrs. doesn't she? She admits to being short on requests and absolute requirements.

She says "we didn't go in NEED." It was adequate for her, decent!! These were her wants and she was fullfilled. I loved it when she tells her X "Dont be bitter, it's never too late." She WANTED to be married forever .

Her sycamores had grown just as the children had and they had all come to the prime of their lives. WOW!!

She says a person came around and appraised her & she then took action. Isn't appraisal putting a value on something? She took appropriate action!!

How come her husband followed her into the library? Did I miss something here?

“I don’t understand how time passes.” Library books out for eighteen years. Her life walks by in the street – her husband of twenty-seven years. Never invited The Bertrams to dinner – just never got around to it. Don’t understand how time passes. The book, The Children… about how life changed over twenty-seven years. He wanted The Bertrams to dinner. He wanted an “eighteen-foot two-rigger”. She wanted “nothing.” They wanted different things. It’s said that couples need to learn to disagree, how to argue. It’s said one of the worst gambits is to refuse to argue by making the “narrow remark” and leaving. Leaving the other choking on the equipment after working the “plumber’s snake” halfway to the heart. Wow.

Nine years. Eighteen years. Twenty-seven years. I don’t understand how time passes.

Wow is right, Charlie and WOW at having you in our discussion here again!! Triple WOW!

I'm just bowled over by your perspectives, went to bed thinking how rich and amazing an experience this is if we can get so many different opinions out of three pages.

And we're not the only ones, think of what enormous talent it takes to get so much INTO three pages, I've read 500 page books which said less.

And MARJV!! I had no idea she was currently writing, we must somehow find her appearances and interviews, thank you so much for that, somebody write her and let's see if we can interview her on this marvelous book. Mind boggling!! Thanks so much for that! So she writes on human error and self deception, we must get her in here!

LORRIE: that hole in the kitchen closet gave me pause too, every little thing in this story is there for a reason, I love clean prose and spare, and this sure is, and for some reason I really like the absence of quotation marks, it give it a strange ambiance, I can't decide what? It adds to the effect.

Pat: What a good question, "Is that what she wants?" HE said she had no wants, she says she has no absolute requirements but wants to be a different person. But his wants don't seem to be about personal change? They seem to be about material possessions?

Is that a male thing??

Am I the only one who can relate to her sort of moving through life in a fog? I got so caught up in her fog I failed to notice DIANE'S point at all!!

DIANE said she RETURNED the books she just checked out! I missed that, or discounted it! She RETURNED them (but she didn't read them, so does that count as being a new person?) Am I the only one here with long overdue library books?

IS it signifigant that she returned them immediately? Do you sense there a feeling of triumph or new step at all or not?

I loved the Librarian granting absolution immediately and them being on perfect terms again, unlike the others in her life.

What IS it anyway about an overdue library book? I had a student back in the 70s whom I allowed to check out books on my card who never returned them. So tho I tried, halfheartedly by phone, to arrange to restore my library card, nothing came of it (I took no action) till I started teaching Adults to read a couple of years ago and felt confident enough to approach my friendly librarian. Card cleared. hahahaha Never again. All those years it hung like a miasma over my life, no card, red flags and bells, outcast. You know the coda here, right? I then allowed an Adult student to check out a book on carpentry on my card and the same thing happened again. Felt like I was glowing every time I went in the library. Just a month ago I once again marched into the main library and tried to explain in a red faced manner to the librarian what had happened. Very happy person but stony looks from assistant librarian. Sinners in the face of an angry God.

So I can totally understand this woman... How the little issues of her life went by while she was trying to deal with the other things she felt were more important. In her case, like raising children and her perfectly awful husband here whose very words snaked into her heart and left her "choking on equipment."

But she greets him with "Hello, my life." !!!???!!!! I wouldn't have, would you??

And she tries to bolster him up by saying he provided well. But he's still on the attack, he's still passively aggressive, still being critical and running snakes down into her heart.

Personally, I think he's a loser.

Andrea!! WOW!! I missed that about Edith Wharton whom I have not read: "What a fabulous beginning! When she checked out the books she had just returned - note the titles. The House of Mirth and The Children. The 2 things she had only wanted. She held onto them -the mirth, gaity and merriment- (the children.) "

Wow. We're going to have to read Wharton in our Books before we're through."

WOW.

I don't think anything in this book is by chance.

Oh great point about why did HE follow her into the Library? After all, he just said, "no life of mine." Wants to get in one last shot?

Failure of marriage because you never invited the Bertrams to dinner?

That is a classic piece of writing there, capturing in one phrase an entire psychological study of blame/aggression/responsibility/ and rationalization.

Now this, to me, is writing.

I find it easy to identify with her and impossible to identify with him. All the precepts say "Be content with enough." Have never heard of contentment being a sin.

He wants an eighteen foot sailboat. I hope he drowns on it.

I'm afraid to read further in case this splendid beginning dies!!!

This character seems real to me, how about you?

Ginny

And when you think about it, look what we lack knowing about this character?

What she looks like what she does for a living where she lives, etc., etc., etc., and compare that to other books which drown you in detail, description and other stuff trying to paint a picture.

Ginny

Ginny, you are a wonder. I'm still chuckling as I begin this. Even though the part that made me chuckle, the whole library saga, ended way back there behind the more serious comments you had. I had to go back and reread your whole post, wanting to be caught up again in the rhythm of your never, never blah comments.

I don't even have the book yet, though it's bound to be in today's mail. But, since you asked....It was a local bank and grocery that had me by the guilt-throat for years, a deposit that the bank screwed up, so that a grocery store check bounced. Even after the bank called the grocery store to claim responsibility and after fees were refunded by both, I still couldn't buy my groceries there again. Just couldn't do it. Even though it had been my favorite and most convenient place. But what was worse, for years and years, my heart would stop every time an envelope from a bank would be in the mail. At car loan times and house mortgage times, I would over prepare and over-document as if trying to pass some FBI screening. So help me, to this day I still feel a little relief when opening a bank envelope, to find that it's just the monthly statement.

Betty

Ginny: I have the feeling that the author wants us to see the protagonist in just this manner. A woman who sees her X in the street , as she is sitting on the steps. I had the feeling that she was comfortable (up to this point) and complacent. She, herself, exudes passivity, arguing only when there's REAL disagreement. She is lifeless. She's resigned. Why? Are we to see her as to what she has become in the past 27 yrs. of her life? Or was she always passionless??

I felt that each word was specific for her personality-- i,e, she didnt DENY that she owed money; she didn't understand how time passed. Where WAS she for 27 yrs? When X cites the disolution of their marriage to one fact she says only "that's POSSIBLE." Adequate, decent- descriptive of HER. Initially, I felt sorry for her. The more I meet her, the more disdain I feel. Get up, get moving, woman and LIVE. The hell with X, the kids and the library---- GO, run.

NO!! She's content just sitting on the steps being short of requests and absolute requirements. Maybe, I need to examine this further. MY ANGER, I mean.

I suppose it's early on yet, but right now I'm having a little trouble getting with this woman's particular style. In some respects she's quite amusing, but in others, there's a note of tragedy. I realize all her writing is "lean and mean" and I know from some reviews that Paley usually writes "plotless" stories, but I feel that she takes some getting used to. Lorrie

by the way, does anyone know why we have to log in here twice to get this folder?

Hi Ginny, Charlie and Betty:

I'm here too. When I tried to get more info on the book from Amazon I found that I inadvertently ordered it with one click. When I tried to cancel it immediately, they said it was on the way. Well--I always liked Paley--should read more short stories since I try to write them. This first story is beautifully written in an economy of style.

It reminds of differences between Milt and me. He does things instantly. I do them--whenever. This probably comes from putting the needs of children and others before my own.

Why are we so afraid of people in authority? They won't hold anything against us if we conform and do what has to be done in our own time.

The inhailing of the delicious odor of the bacon reminded me of enjoying the artistic display of chocolates in the windows of Bartons and Baraccini when I was not able to buy the candy.

Why does the husband say she wants nothing? She was satisfied with whatever he provided and did not put pressure on him.

She would like to be more organized and orderly, as I would like to be. But she does the best she can. She knows what she wants and its not what other people want her to be. To try to be different would upset the tenor of her life the way she wants to live it.

Charlotte

Alf:

I don't see her as passionless as at all. She finally realized that she's going to live her life the way she wants to, even though she still loves the guy. It's his loss.

Charlotte

Clean prose and spare” – that it is Ginny. Everybody remember: if you like this one you must get Little Disturbances of Man also. The lack of quotes kind of gives it an interior monologue effect, I think. Very direct.

WANTS - Really – isn’t that what this one is about? Do people really articulate their ‘wants’ very well in a relationship? Are some people even unable to articulate their ‘wants’ to themselves?

Charlotte - Between this and History, you really are having some strange experiences in your book ordering recently aren’t you? Someone up there is guiding your reading!!!

Charlie" Could be. Could be. My life is at its best when I stick close to books. And I don't know what has helped me solve my life-long sleep problem which gets me here so early in the morning.

Charlotte

Charlotte! Welcome to the discussion, I'm glad you did get the book! You know, on your enjoying the chocolates you couldn't get, tho, she could have had the bacon? But she didn't. She chose to sort of experience it thru a hole in the wall. And her husband said breakfasts were the best times, wonder what he meant by that, all they had was coffee. And the smell of bacon next door.

Charlie: I loved this: "Do people really articulate their ‘wants’ very well in a relationship? Are some people even unable to articulate their ‘wants’ to themselves? Maybe that's what's going on with her, it's certainly contradictory to say she has no wants (absolute requirements) and then turn around and say she wants to be a different person?

I would think that would be a major want!

Also loved your assessment of it as an INTERIOR MONOLOGUE, I love that, and of course that's perfect!!

Lorrie: plotless? I love that. Do any of the rest of you feel that way? Can a plot be something that happens in the mind or does it have to have physical accompanyment?? Is there no plot to this story? I love that.

Andrea: You feel anger at her? At first you were sympathetic but you see her as somebody who needs to....shake her lethargy off and get on with life? So you think that perhaps she's hiding under this veneer of being short of requirements in life?

She said she never argued when there was real disagreement. What does that mean? She argues over nothing but can't risk arguing over something that means anything? I missed that point.

Betty: "guilt throat," I love that. You are just delightful! Why IS it we allow "authority" to have such holds over us? Wonder if it's childhood conditioning? In the case of the grocery and the library, nobody there all those years later would probably know who either you or I were, nobody but us would care. Funny, aren't we? In my case if I had acted instead of dwelilng on it constantly I would have used my time much more profitably, just thinking about the hours I've spent worrying over it is frightening.

So I thought, well, it's Wednesday we must get on to story 2 and read it a second ago and good grief! Have you read that thing? At first when we started Lucia's story I was so greatly depressed, thinking oh no, more memoirs, oh no, and OH NO it wasn't!!! "Debts," it's called. Good grief. What's your opinion of this thing?

"Debts," who owes whom what? I think there are some very old truths buried in this thing, do we know anybody in this day and time who arranged dispassionately, their own marriage for their own ends? Would anybody but Anna Nicole Smith do that today?

Ginny

Charlotte: I missed the feeling that she still loved the guy. I got the distinct impression of "ho-hum", as she contemplated his good character. (?) Missed that too. We dislike him, but-- she's apathetic.

Charlie: ABSOLUTELY! We MUST feel freedom to articulate our wants and our desires-- particularly to our respective mate. Life is all about sharing, participating in one anothers life - partaking! Devastation follows when a man and wife cannot freely discuss their "wants" and aspirations with one another.

Ginny: YES,yes yes! I do see her hiding under that veneer. I get the distinct impression on the 2nd read that she needs to "get a life." He's gone, the kids are gone, books are gone and there she sits observing the sycamores the city had "dreamily" planted yrs ago. When is she going to come out of this "dream-like" state - this reverie? Yep-- she's passive!!

1st paragraph- what does a "dreamer" of the Yiddish theater mean? A share of the profits is too inorganic! I loved that- something NOT fundamental or integral to life --that wouldn't rush grampas life into any literature she could make.

Lucia is right. How many of you hold "secrets" re. your family? Don't we all have stories that we are hesitant to archive? Even though she "owed" nothing to THAT lady she felt she did owe (debts) something to her own family & family friends. How did this save a few lives, as she tells their stories????

There is a fantastic movie on video tape : "Secrets and Lies"... goes along with the idea of what do we do with secrets.

Just had a thought. This is a collection. My book doesn't indicate when each of the stories was written.

Another thought.....Anna did the daily deed. And then she could let him go. Totally emotionally detached.

---Marj

Some reviewers say that the crucial quality of Grace Paley’s work is still how she writes rather than what she is saying. William Novak says “We are so accustomed to responding to fiction in terms of its themes and characters that we must reawaken our linguistic sensitivities when reading Grace Paley. The qualities and substances that give strength to most of our good writers are quite alien from her work.” Plot, for instance, figures in these stories almost as an after-thought. In the second story, “Debts” I was struck by the tale of a little girl who had to make an long journey via trolley and train to bring dinner to her stepfather. Being outside the city was evidently a real treat for her; she stopped to play on the riverbanks, and gathered wildflowers for this man Michael whom she didn’t really like. It isn’t much of a plot, per se, but it’s a powerful anecdote just the same, with lots of emotion in just these few words. As I glance forward at most of the stories I get the impression of a woman sitting on a stoop in the neighborhood where she lives and recounting tales of her friends and neighbors in a matter-of-fact manner and with wry humor. Lorrie

Just got the book today. Pardon me for going back to the first story for a minute.

WANTS

They screw us up.

We grow up wanting what we learn from others is important. Often that changes. If we're lucky, that changes.

Why, even after some wisdom arrives, do we struggle to be happy with what we have and find ourselves still wanting.

Acknowledging wants in others (in relationships) can feel threatening. Why is this so hard to do?

Being OK acknowledging our own wants is often hard for women. And for men.

Saying you are satisfied, that you "want for nothing", is an achievement, is rare, isn't that popular, is seen as less than manly for men---we still fall into judging men for their accumulation and continuation of wants.

Betty

Lorrie, your statement about Paley's writing - that it is "how she writes rather than what she is saying". Boy, doesn't that sum it up beautifully. I guess that's what I love about fiction. Good fiction.

Debts. This story reminds me of stories from my grandmother and mother of plain, straightforward facts. Straight line between point A and B. If I were to ask, "Did you like going all the way out there to deliver a hot lunch?" I can imagine the answer, "Well, I never thought if I liked it or not. It was my job every day." I have to be careful not to romanticize that simpler time when children were less likely to question adults. In those leaner financial times, children truly were needed as workers in a family, were rarely seen as separate little persons with opinions and needs, and according to so many later recollections, lived in secret epidemics of abuse.

Still, there is something appealing about a day with constancy, a life with everything familiar.

Betty

Last week I had the temerity to write Grace Paley (snail mail) by way of her publishers. I invited her to join us in this discussion, and who knows? perhaps she'll be curious enough to join in. Anyway, let's keep our fingers crossed! Lorrie

MargeV, someone else mentioned that tape "Secrets and Lies" to me, so I think I'll pick it up next time I go to rent one.

ALF Like you, I loved that phrase " A share of the profits is too organic!" Perfect!

Betty Gregory: When you stated that acknowledging waants in others can feel threatening, I couldn't agree more. And yes, we do continually judge men for their accumulations of wants. I'm glad everyone seems to like this author as much as I do. At first I was afraid I'd be a little turned off by her rampant feminism, as described in so many of her biographies, but I have yet to see any evidence of that in these first few stories.

This author scares me to death, I read Story III, "Distance," literally holding my breath. To me, her writing is so SEARING. I'm seeing kind of a wry humor but am just totally crushed by what she's saying on the top.

I got up thinking about ....?.....we don't even have her NAME in "Wants!" And still I'm thinking about her.

Wonderful research, Eveybody, Marj, please put those URLs in here, I think everybody would love to see them!

Starting with "Decisions" and working backwards, "Decisions" scared me to death. It reminds me of Frost's "The Death of the Hired Man," very similar in tone and presentation and shock value. Will try to go find it if you have forgotten it, that one in poetry, this in prose.

How on earth can we relate to this? Bigotry, name calling, hatred of son's wife to the point of knife and for what result? Here this woman is attempting to manipulate others while losing her entire family: everything or person who matters to her is driven away at the last, she loses all. She's reduced to sitting on the stoop (wonderful wonderful allegory about the whole book, Lorrie!) and watching the people who once might have cared.

How about her take on getting older? "I've noticed it. All of a sudden they look at you , and then, it comes to them, young people, they are bound to outlast you, so they temper up their icy steel and stare into about an inch away from you a lot. Have you noticed it?"

I cannot breathe reading Paley, and am now on fire to find out more about her. Boy wouldn't you fear getting into a conversation with her? She could slice you to ribbons in a heartbeat.

How about this one: "Is there satisfaction anywhere in getting old?"

Diane, would this meet your criteria for "good fiction?" Do these characters seem real or not?

Marj: that's a good thought on the assembly of these stories, written at different times, my book doesn't say when they were written either nor who assembled them in this order.

Betty: would you say then, that the character in "Wants" has or has not come to a successful point in life? She says she is short of absolute requirements, but is she afraid to express her wants? I'm unsure here whether or not she's to be seen as admirable or as Andrea said, hiding.

Andrea: What did you mean by "how did it save a few lives, " on the story "Debts?" Family secrets, is there any family which does not have any and how do they become secrets in the first place?

I also liked Betty's take on the families of the past, when you look at any family hard, if you can find the evidence of the past, you find all sorts of amazing things pop out. There's a book called WISCONSIN DEATH TRIP about newspaper headlines of over 100 years ago and there's nothing in there we don't have today and a whole lot more, too. Nothing new under the sun, perhaps you just didn't hear about it.

And wasn't it just last night that one of the Curators of the Library of Congress was avidly showing off his collections at home? His 45 records and....in his basement....was that porn?? A collection of porn? HAH? On television? Hello??? Now in the past, might that have been considered Uncle So and So's little secret stuff but with our new hang it all out mentality, it's on TELEVISION? Jeepers.

I don't know what that reference to Jewish theater was, ("dreamer" of the Yiddish theater"), I wish somebody would explain it!~!

I keep thinking about Woman #1. Would the key to all this be her saying to her estranged husband, "Hello, my life?" My life? What does she mean? Her past? Her once upon a time....It's been a long time since I had to think so hard over the characters in a book. I believe Paley is skewering us all, and scaring me to death in the process.

It's an adventure, am glad you're all along for the ride!

Ginny

Aw Ginny: It's fiction. Remember. It's written like poetry in an economic style. Paley has a sense of humor. Try taking what the characters say to each other at face value. It reminds me of Pinter's plays. This is a woman who has had enough. She's going to make a life for herself. It is an optimistic ending.

I have Frost's Death of a Hired Man. Will look it up for you.

Charlotte

Got it, Charlotte, thanks!!

That's exactly what I kept saying to myself: it's only fiction!! It's only fiction!!

You see wry humor?

Why can't I see the humor here? I see a detachment and something very cold underneath?

The Death of the Hired Man
by Robert Frost

   
Robert Frost. 1874–1963  

3. The Death of the Hired Man 

MARY sat musing on the lamp-flame at the table    
Waiting for Warren. When she heard his step,    
She ran on tip-toe down the darkened passage    
To meet him in the doorway with the news    
And put him on his guard. “Silas is back.”    5  
She pushed him outward with her through the door    
And shut it after her. “Be kind,” she said.    
She took the market things from Warren’s arms    
And set them on the porch, then drew him down    
To sit beside her on the wooden steps.   10  

“When was I ever anything but kind to him?    
But I’ll not have the fellow back,” he said.    
“I told him so last haying, didn’t I?    
‘If he left then,’ I said, ‘that ended it.’    
What good is he? Who else will harbour him   15  
At his age for the little he can do?    
What help he is there’s no depending on.    
Off he goes always when I need him most.    
‘He thinks he ought to earn a little pay,    
Enough at least to buy tobacco with,   20  
So he won’t have to beg and be beholden.’    
‘All right,’ I say, ‘I can’t afford to pay    
Any fixed wages, though I wish I could.’    
‘Someone else can.’ ‘Then someone else will have to.’    
I shouldn’t mind his bettering himself   25  
If that was what it was. You can be certain,    
When he begins like that, there’s someone at him    
Trying to coax him off with pocket-money,—    
In haying time, when any help is scarce.    
In winter he comes back to us. I’m done.”   30  

“Sh! not so loud: he’ll hear you,” Mary said.    

“I want him to: he’ll have to soon or late.”    

“He’s worn out. He’s asleep beside the stove.    
When I came up from Rowe’s I found him here,    
Huddled against the barn-door fast asleep,   35  
A miserable sight, and frightening, too—    
You needn’t smile—I didn’t recognise him—    
I wasn’t looking for him—and he’s changed.    
Wait till you see.”    

“Where did you say he’d been?”   40  

“He didn’t say. I dragged him to the house,    
And gave him tea and tried to make him smoke.    
I tried to make him talk about his travels.    
Nothing would do: he just kept nodding off.”    

“What did he say? Did he say anything?”   45  

“But little.”    

“Anything? Mary, confess    
He said he’d come to ditch the meadow for me.”    

“Warren!”    

“But did he? I just want to know.”   50  

“Of course he did. What would you have him say?    
Surely you wouldn’t grudge the poor old man    
Some humble way to save his self-respect.    
He added, if you really care to know,    
He meant to clear the upper pasture, too.   55  
That sounds like something you have heard before?    
Warren, I wish you could have heard the way    
He jumbled everything. I stopped to look    
Two or three times—he made me feel so queer—    
To see if he was talking in his sleep.   60  
He ran on Harold Wilson—you remember—    
The boy you had in haying four years since.    
He’s finished school, and teaching in his college.    
Silas declares you’ll have to get him back.    
He says they two will make a team for work:   65  
Between them they will lay this farm as smooth!    
The way he mixed that in with other things.    
He thinks young Wilson a likely lad, though daft    
On education—you know how they fought    
All through July under the blazing sun,   70  
Silas up on the cart to build the load,    
Harold along beside to pitch it on.”    

“Yes, I took care to keep well out of earshot.”    

“Well, those days trouble Silas like a dream.    
You wouldn’t think they would. How some things linger!   75  
Harold’s young college boy’s assurance piqued him.    
After so many years he still keeps finding    
Good arguments he sees he might have used.    
I sympathise. I know just how it feels    
To think of the right thing to say too late.   80  
Harold’s associated in his mind with Latin.    
He asked me what I thought of Harold’s saying    
He studied Latin like the violin    
Because he liked it—that an argument!    
He said he couldn’t make the boy believe   85  
He could find water with a hazel prong—    
Which showed how much good school had ever done him.    
He wanted to go over that. But most of all    
He thinks if he could have another chance    
To teach him how to build a load of hay——”   90  

“I know, that’s Silas’ one accomplishment.    
He bundles every forkful in its place,    
And tags and numbers it for future reference,    
So he can find and easily dislodge it    
In the unloading. Silas does that well.   95  
He takes it out in bunches like big birds’ nests.    
You never see him standing on the hay    
He’s trying to lift, straining to lift himself.”    

“He thinks if he could teach him that, he’d be    
Some good perhaps to someone in the world.  100  
He hates to see a boy the fool of books.    
Poor Silas, so concerned for other folk,    
And nothing to look backward to with pride,    
And nothing to look forward to with hope,    
So now and never any different.”  105  

Part of a moon was falling down the west,    
Dragging the whole sky with it to the hills.    
Its light poured softly in her lap. She saw    
And spread her apron to it. She put out her hand    
Among the harp-like morning-glory strings,  110  
Taut with the dew from garden bed to eaves,    
As if she played unheard the tenderness    
That wrought on him beside her in the night.    
“Warren,” she said, “he has come home to die:    
You needn’t be afraid he’ll leave you this time.”  115  

“Home,” he mocked gently.    

“Yes, what else but home?    
It all depends on what you mean by home.    
Of course he’s nothing to us, any more    
Than was the hound that came a stranger to us  120  
Out of the woods, worn out upon the trail.”    

“Home is the place where, when you have to go there,    
They have to take you in.”    

“I should have called it    
Something you somehow haven’t to deserve.”  125  

Warren leaned out and took a step or two,    
Picked up a little stick, and brought it back    
And broke it in his hand and tossed it by.    
“Silas has better claim on us you think    
Than on his brother? Thirteen little miles  130  
As the road winds would bring him to his door.    
Silas has walked that far no doubt to-day.    
Why didn’t he go there? His brother’s rich,    
A somebody—director in the bank.”    

“He never told us that.”  135  

“We know it though.”    

“I think his brother ought to help, of course.    
I’ll see to that if there is need. He ought of right    
To take him in, and might be willing to—    
He may be better than appearances.  140  
But have some pity on Silas. Do you think    
If he’d had any pride in claiming kin    
Or anything he looked for from his brother,    
He’d keep so still about him all this time?”    

“I wonder what’s between them.”  145  

“I can tell you.    
Silas is what he is—we wouldn’t mind him—    
But just the kind that kinsfolk can’t abide.    
He never did a thing so very bad.    
He don’t know why he isn’t quite as good  150  
As anyone. He won’t be made ashamed    
To please his brother, worthless though he is.”    

“I can’t think Si ever hurt anyone.”    

“No, but he hurt my heart the way he lay    
And rolled his old head on that sharp-edged chair-back.  155  
He wouldn’t let me put him on the lounge.    
You must go in and see what you can do.    
I made the bed up for him there to-night.    
You’ll be surprised at him—how much he’s broken.    
His working days are done; I’m sure of it.”  160  

“I’d not be in a hurry to say that.”    

“I haven’t been. Go, look, see for yourself.    
But, Warren, please remember how it is:    
He’s come to help you ditch the meadow.    
He has a plan. You mustn’t laugh at him.  165  
He may not speak of it, and then he may.    
I’ll sit and see if that small sailing cloud    
Will hit or miss the moon.”    

It hit the moon.    
Then there were three there, making a dim row,  170  
The moon, the little silver cloud, and she.    

Warren returned—too soon, it seemed to her,    
Slipped to her side, caught up her hand and waited.    

“Warren,” she questioned.    

“Dead,” was all he answered.  175  

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Frost, Robert. 1915. North of Boston.  

The New Bartleby Library

Ginny:

Glad you found the poem. I think you have a scanner. I would have had to search for it and then type it in. It's a beautiful, sad poem about a man from another time who believes what he believes--in the importance of basic, hard work. Also, it's about a man who is different from others in his family and the discomfort that brings. There are some lovely metaphors in the poem and the warm, understanding feelings of Warren's wife are brilliantly shown. Isn't it most often the women who see things from another point of view, rather than from a dollars and cents approach.

However, I see more optimism than sadness in WANTS. This is a woman who is finally relieved of all her family responsibilities. She is going to make a life for herself and nobody is going to stop her. I also see the humor in the style in which it is written.

Charlotte

Charlotte and Ginny, yes, the humor comes close to my take. More ironic, maybe. Anne Bancroft playing the part, offhand, very ironic, slight twinkle in eye, finally acknowledging that THAT thing there on the sidewalk has been her life. Oi.

I can just see Anne Bancroft squaring her shoulders, rolling her eyes, marching in to confront the librarian, FINALLY. So pleased with herself that she checks them out again, chin out.

Betty

My question referring to How did it save a few lives-- was from the 2nd page of the story. I didn't understand the concept. Did anybody "get" that? -- "in order, you might say, to save a few lives," the author says.

I also missed the name ZIO in the last sentence. I found this story light hearted, enjoying Anna as she skipped, full of mirth along the banks, to do her mothers bidding.

I loved the way the author puts you into the heart of the females. "In order to live with him, Maria explained the following truths to her reasonable head." I laughed out loud reading that one. It is no wonder that Ms. Paley is a feminist. It makes you wonder if any of these women are representative of her OR of those she's known well--deeply.

To regress a bit here-- I wonder - WHAT kind of awful memories drove Michael to the Insane Asylum, in DEBTS?

DISTANCE: Did anyone else smile while reading this opening paragraph? She assures us we would be glad to meet her, a lady who appreciated youth, happy all the time. From that point on she went downhill in the amusement area. Her claims to live and let live are surely not substantiated by her comments to us or to the the characters in the story, as she goes off to live and die!

Oh, Betty - Anne Bancroft would be perfect! I loved your description - you captured them both absolutely.

Ginny - you asked if this (Paley's book) would fit my criteria for good fiction. Oh, yes - indeed, yes! When I come upon phrase after phrase that I hate to let go of, just want to relish each one, roll around in it for a while, maybe commit it to memory, to me that's good fiction.

Back to WANTS, where she closes with, "...when a person or an event comes along to jolt or appraise me I can take some appropriate action, although I am better known for my hospitable remarks." Loved that thought, mulled it over, and thought it said so much about the writer - and also brought up a lot of questions. WHO is she, who, really, is she?

In DISTANCE, "...My husband didn't say a word to me. He kept his madness in his teeth..." What a description - can't you just feel it. All those clenched jaws we read about but Paley describes it as keeping the madness in the teeth.

To me, the plots really are secondary to these fabulous descriptions. I wonder what it would be like to read a whole novel by Paley? I think I'd love it.

Here's an interesting place......

What Students Think is Funny: Gender and Class Issues Gender and Class Issues in the Humor of Woody Allen, Grace Paley, Marietta Holley and James Thurber:

http://www.lesley.edu/journals/jppp/1/jp3ii3.html

--Marj

Diane, I'm like you about savoring certain sentences and phrases. I've always felt that was the test of a really good author--if what they write is remembered with such clarity long afterward. Like. "Tuesdays and Wednesdays was as gay as Saturday nights." I'm beginning to like this woman's dead-pan style.

Marj, I think that demonstration you posted about what some of the readers found humorous was really interesting. I'm going to print it out and peruse it a little more slowly the next time. Lorrie

Marj:

Your clickable made my day!!! I printed it out and am still reading it, but must quote this passage:

"Paley uses ironic humor to distance the narrator from the pain of the crumbled marriage. She sees her ex's limitations clearly but she's more compassionate than cruel. Though marriages fail and wars go on, the Sycamore trees planted before her kids were born are in the prime of their lives. Perhaps she can't change the world, but she's not as passive as her ex suggests. Doesn't her decision to return those books prove that she can take appropriate action. The humor in Paley's story comes not from wildly absurd images or slapstick effects but from a cumulative sense of the harrator's comic vision. Like (Woody) Allen's persona, she's concerned with human weakness, but her humor derives, not from agression delivered linguistically, but from a recognition of of the absurdity of our social contracts, whether the rules pertain to marriage or library fines. Nonetheless, her emotional bonds to children, the library and her beloved urban neighborhood remain strong in contrast to Allen's isolated loner, confiding in his diary."

Charlotte

Boy! I came reeling from reading Paley's "Distance!" Our protagonist Dolly is surely a tough old bird, isn't she? Did anyone else note the irony of how she spiels out wop, mick and heinie without a qualm, then apologizes for saying "ass." This story is full of writing that makes me want to weep and laugh, and above all, admire. Just as the expressions in "Faith in the Afternoon" are so vivid. Like."On deep tracks, the tears rolled down her old cheeks. But she had smiled so peculiarly for seventy-seven years that they suddenly switched wildly toward her ears and hung like glass from each lobe." Priceless!

Well, I FINALLY got this book this morning, managed to read the first three stories, have read everyone's comments till now but have not read the material in the clickable regarding humor. I suppose I should but I must say, so far my impression is NOT one of humor. I think this writer is ANGRY. Sarcasticly, swearingly, searing with anger. Initial impression. Does come up with some stunning turns of phrase, though, as you all have noted.

BTW, my copy of this book indicates these stories were written between 1960 and 1975. I think there was some question about that? I'm curious--how have we gotten onto this at this point in time? Who found it??

Jeryn: Good question. I think someone suggested the book for a vote in the Online Book Club. I do know there was quite a gap between Paley's last book of short stories and "Enormous Changes." Apparently she was extremely active in the feminist movement and anti-war protests. You say you see no humor, well I didn't much either, at the second story, more of a searing indictment of those times and people. "Serio/comic" style I think one critic called it. Lorrie

Have you noticed that Paley as narrator assumes the character of her protagonist? Her stories are monologues which like poetry should be read aloud in order to get the full significance of the language.

I don't think I'll ever forget the plumber's snake analogy in Wants. It is indeed a beautiful way of expressing a miserably unhappy feeling.

Andrea: About your question on Page 10, which I finally found after searching it out: Paley says as a writer she thinks she owes something to her own family and the families of her friends: "That is to tell their stories as simply as possible, you might say, to save a few lives." That is how she explains her mission as a writer. That's what some writers try to do in plain language, without expressing their own emotional reactions, but using an occasional wow of a metaphor to make things beautifully clear. We can only write from our own experience and we are impelled to explain ourselves as well as what happens to others who are driven to tell their own stories. It becomes an effort to explain why we did what we did and what happened as a result. And it is a need to communicate to our contemporaries, as well as those who come afterward.

Charlotte

"To save a few lives." A play on words. Top meaning, to record lives, like you would save photographs.

Betty...I like that..."to record lives"

Lorrie & charlotte...glad you enjoyed the article re Paley's humor.

Now a couple thoughts :I do confess...it takes me several readings to begin to feel the stories.

Paley's brusque statements are intriguing. Also, I am stunned at her straight truths. And glad that someone has been and is speaking them.

In "Distance", son John continues to see Ginny...he has a need. And mom reflects: I wait on the stoop steps to see John on summer nights as he hasn't enough time to visit me and Ginny both, and I need the sight of him, tho I don't know why". A loneliness for times past, a soul to care about her???

In "Faith......". Mrs H and her well-oiled wheelchair, making her capable of just appearing , made me laugh aloud. One of many incidents here and there. I didn't like her but she kept a group together.

Faith seems so sad to me. Such a lost person. I liked her ability to still care and feel regardlelss of life's web. I almost thought her father had some compassion....but the last paragraph angered me: when he reaches for her fingers & touches them to her wet cheeks and, "Aaah,....."an explosion of nausea, absolute digestive (INTERESTING WORD) disgust...before she could turn away, he had turned away from her. What a jerk Paley has created. I am thinking about 'digestive disgust'; anyone have an idea?

--Marj

This story is again told in Paley's bitterly ironic humor. Here is a woman who has no right to mix in the life of her son. The writing is so clever: "I have no complaints worth troubling the manager about." "Well O.K. Farewell certain years." "I'm nothing but a Primary Day poll watcher." Your Dad will be back, "It's happened before Mr. Two-Weeks-Old." "You're blind as a bat, Mr. Just Born."

However, the last paragraph is no longer humorous. GP heads this as "now some serious questions, so far anasked." She is a lonely old woman, looking back on her experiences with Anthony in the park. She realizes that Anthony did not love her. Hopefully, we might wish to believe this lack of love may mean that she now understands why she has to "wait on the stoop steps" to see John on his way to visit Ginny. But despite her clever language in putting him down, she "needs the sight of him, though she doesn't know why." A really sad ending to a good story.

Charlotte

I still feel the ANGER and it is directed at MEN. These men in her stories are just doing what comes naturally? Which so often hurts one or more women... And what WAS that with her Dad? He was turned off by her tears? She was disgusting to him? He was disgusting to her? What what?

I can't figure out the last two sentence of your post. As I see it, she is not talking about her own father, but about her husband who is John's Dad.

In the first sentence in the story, she says "You would certainly be glad to meet me." I wouldn't. I think she's a hateful old woman, with a clever tongue who messes up a lot of lives.

End of Paragraph P. 19 she says, "My wildness as a girl is my own life's business, no one else's." Yet on P.22 she tells Ginny. "My son is my business. When Ginny tells her, "No, he's his own, she says "MY SON IS MY BUSINESS BY LOVE. BY LOVE AND DUTY." She allows privacy and freedom for herself, but not for anyone else.

Charlotte

Hope you all have a wonderful time in the windy city. I'd never go near Chicago in November--Brr. Unfortunately, NYC is only a little better.

Charlotte

Charlotte, glad I'm not the only one staying behind.

Betty

Well, it's hopeless, I've just lost an entire post so will abbreviate here.

Jeryn, I, too, did not see the humor in the first stories. The first one just blew me away with its searing truths. The second one reminded me of family secrets locked in some closet brought squirming into the light: she married for convenience and the child took lunch and left but nobody cried when he died. In the third story, however, I do begin to see some sarcasm, some irony, a type of humor or bitterness overlaying devastating loss: after all, sharper than a serpent's tooth. She has caused this loss herself, but ironically, like Archie Bunker on the stoop, can't see that and remains craning her head to see her son who doesn't have time to visit them both. We reap what we sow. Would frighten the socks off anybody, I would think.

And now the fourth story, and once again the author hammers the reader with throw away phrases and catch breath moments, I'm actually afraid to read another page. Do you all feel the same way? Do you understand the relationships of what's going on here, who's who? I'm having to reread this one, Charlotte, you said Paley uses the author as narrator so I'm going back to see whose head I'm IN, and will return later today.

The book ENORMOUS CHANGES AT THE LAST MINUTE was recently featured in the catalogue of Bas Bleu, , an online book seller, which incidentally, allows you to write reviews! Woudn't it be a kick to get our own SeniorNet Books Byline in there? That's where it first came to our attention.

I've never read an author other than Stephen King who can slay the reader with such shock, and Paley does her killing softly, with words. I really want to hear more about her or from her.

Which of the first four stories is the best in your opinion, and why?

Ginny

While it would be nice to have our entire roster of Bookies, 300+ strong in Chicago (nice? it would be heaven!) obiously not everyone can make each Gathering, that's why we move them around the country, so more can actually meet face to face, if they would like, but we're DEPENDING on YOU, our loyal BC Onliners, to carry the day here in what is our PRIMARY focus, the Book Club ONLINE! The other is just icing on the cake and someday maybe we, too, can meet!

I'll never forget our Charlotte and Milt!!

So please do not drop the ball here from the 11th-15th, in fact, we're counting on you all!

Ginny

Speaking of humor, they say that every comedian wears a mask to hide the tears and when you look at the lives of these comedians you see great unhappiness or unhappy childhood almost every time. Sometimes tragic.

Perhaps humor evolves as a defense but perhaps also there might be more than one kind of humor, I'm sure the "laugh, clown laugh," stuff has a base, it might be interesting to learn more.

There's a super old movie called "Bud and Lou," have you seen it? It's about Abbott and Costello, the original comedy team who didn't speak to each other offstage. I always hated Abbot, thought he was mean and nasty, when in fact, off screen he was the kindest man on earth and it was the other guy, Costello, who was angry and bitter, and probably with good reason, but really an angry angry man. Life is strange. Dean Martin was just laid back and easy going, just a happy drifter while Jerry Lewis was a control freak and very meticulous, and lately, appears very angry over his strange stalker (as anybody might be) it's amazing.

Ginny

As readers and thinkers, it serves our purpose to see an author in a specific light. Our different posts that insist "humor" or "anger" or "sarcasm" is our natural struggle to make sense of and categorize Grace Paley. May I suggest (as I'm wondering about it) that Paley's voice is outside the familiar voices of fiction, non-fiction. The word "voice" for me refers to the voice Paley herself hears from within and her writing is true to that voice. Now, granted, her style feels new/different, too, but I would venture that it is voice that we are responding to.

I don't mean to be obtuse, but maybe I'm suggesting that it is still disconcerting (for some) to read a woman's voice that suggests anger, sarcasm. Ginny's descriptions of hardhitting "truths", even shocking truths might reflect Paley's gift for authentic writing. No layers of comfort wrapped around these truths. Which is an entirely different way of communicating than so many women are still taught. We are taught to not speak our mind so boldly, to be good caretakers of other's feelings, to negotiate. There is no negotiation in Paley's writing, although I do detect a certain latitude to apply our own experiences to her writing.

And she expects intelligent readers. There are no insults of spoon feeding. I'm beginning to get a picture of her honoring her own (uncompromised) voice and respecting the reader's application of that voice to her life. So, these various reactions we've having, of seeing humor, anger, sarcasm---they all do fit. And she might be gratified to know those are our reactions.

She makes me want to go to my bookshelf to prod my memory for other women who introduced new voices. Toni Morrison comes to mind. Reading her (Pulitzer winner?) Beloved, you know instantly this is an unfamiliar voice.

Ginny, even though I don't connect to your word "afraid," I believe your references to hardhitting "truths" are exactly what Paley hoped we would see. The risk associated with listening for a voice within, then staying with that authentic voice through the writing--without apologizing or without conforming to an "accepted" writing style--is a risk worth taking if the reader sees truth. Said another way, she connects to real women's experiences of life. The truth of our lives is missing in a lot of books.

Betty



Gloomy Tune: Can you believe those names? Bobo, Bibi, Doody, Dodo, Neddy, Yoyo, Butch, Put Put, and Beep? What lucid-thinking mother would name her kid Yoyo, for Pete’s sake! The confrontation at the end was pretty funny, though. Living; I didn’t quite know how to read this one. Apparently she’s mourning the loss of good friend, while at the same time she’s suffering herself from some kind of hemorrhaging. Thewhole thing sounds very tragic and mournful, but for some reason I couldn’t seem to connectwith it. Where are all the husbands in these stories? We hear a lot about the kids, and the parents, but outside of a few mentions of an unfaihful spouse or an occasional boy-friend, there’s little mention about any men in the lives of these women. The last few sentences were sort of illuminating–“We shared apartments, jobs, and stuck-up studs.” Still, in all the stories I’m amazed at the power this writer can put into just a few well-chosen words.

Lorrie:

Did you ever hear of a woman names Ima Hogg? She's quite famous and I think is a philanthropist. I always wondered why her parents did this to her.

Charlotte

Charlotte: You're putting me on! I went to school many years ago with a girl named Rosie Rottenkrotch---you can imagine what that poor kid suffered. Lorrie

COME ON, YE SONS OF ART This has got to be one of the most enigmaticstories that I think are in this book. Grace Paley writes of Kitty’s lover, Jerry Cook as he ruminates about business, how crooked his family is, and other sundry matters as they lie snuggled together in bed one Sunday morning. While the radio plays baroque music, pregnant Kitty hears Jerry tell her she’s “one of that kind–the kind that thinks the world is round.” The author’s technique might explain what some academics call the ‘unevenness”of her writing. Vivian Gornick wrote in The Village Voice, “her successes are intermittent, unpredictable, often unshapely and without wholeness; there is no progression of revelation, the stories do not build one upon the other, they do not create an emotional unity. On the other hand, when one hears that unmistakable Paley voice one feel what can be felt only in the presence of a true writer: safe.”

Lorrie

I really don't think there can be a greater contrast to Purcell's "Come, Ye Sons of Art," than the story "Come On, Ye Sons of Art," I nearly fainted when I saw Lorrie posting to it, did not realize it was IN this collection. I'm listening to it as I type.

I can't find it on a MIDI so you all can hear it but I have found part of it and it's like a carousel herky tune but you can get some idea.

First: the "Come, Ye Sons of Art," was written by Henry Purcell in the Six Birthday Odes to Queen Mary between 1689 and 1694. He had to take odes written with poor meter and very obsequious phrasing and put them to music which he did brilliantly, if you've ever heard "Come Ye Sons of Art," you can't get it out of your head. I can't and as I said I nearly fainted when Lorrie mentioned it, thought I was losing it for a minute! hahahahha

The Symphony starts: (Countertenor 1 and Chorus):

Come ye Sons of Art away
tune all your voices, and instruments play,
to celebrate this triumphant day.

It then passes into Sound the trumpet, which I have found here Sound the Trumpet . The elongated note is the word Sound:

Sound the trumpet, till around
You make the list'ning shores rebound
.....

The Ode ends with the spectacularly beautiful "See Nature, rejoicing, has shown us the way...." I can't look at the fall leaves without hearing it in my head.

The Musical Heritage Society on the Internet has a splendid recording of this and other Purcell: The Early Music Consort of London in the Morrow Edition.

Having said that, how does that refer in any way to "Come on Ye Sons of Art?"

Come ON indeed. Is Paley here saying that what's depicted here, wallets, moving those color tv's, what has taken the place of art? This is, to me, the most sarcastic piece in the book so far, Donald Trump with his best and every other word mentioning money money money as the new god or goal of society, the breathtaking bigotry, offhand slurs, but it's obvious Kitty lives for these weekends (does she not see him any other time?). He's a real mover and shaker isn't he?

Do you know anybody like Jerry Cook? What is the author saying here, I wonder, about modern man and why has she chosen Purcell of all people, to contrast here? This is an awful story, I love it.

I don't know, maybe she and I are twins, she can suggest in a phrase what for me conjures up volumes, impossible to believe I never heard of her before this.

More on the others later, the death of a friend and the carelessness of parenting in our brave new world.

Oh and Betty, yes, she scares me to death, I find myself holding my breath at what she'll say next or reveal next and am not sure I can take it, she does seem to penetrate right into the reader and I'm not sure I want to be "unraveled," as Jerry says!

Lorrie, thanks so much for that, so far every story for me has been unique and has had emotional unity, let's look hard at each one from this point out vis a vis those suggestions in Lorrie's post?

Ginny

Hey Gang! I've been following with all of your comments. My family is still here, until tomorrow when I , again, will sign on with you. Interesting comments. I agree with Lynn the most--- G.P. IS truly a N.O.W. woman, describing "what men do naturally" --- despicable critters!!

I am joking, no offense please.

I find a call , from Paley, to the church to face the reality of day to day life.

The sister comes to see the mother of those oddly named children..."The mother didn't say a word. Because she knew the sister couldn't understand a thing. Now, the sister didn't know what it was like to live next door to all kinds."

Kind of food for thought....Marj

Mmmmmm Charlotte, I think we were talking about different stories back there. When I mentioned her [Faith's] dad, this was in "Faith in the Afternoon".

Biting sarcasm, yes. Downright MEAN!

What better description of how Paley writes than in her own words!!

"dumbwaiters boom, doors slam, dishes crash, every window is a mother's mouth, bidding the street shut up, go skate somewhere else, come home"

Though I never lived in an apartment house in NYC, I feel as though I've been there. I am the mother calling the kids home and I was the kid told to go skate somewhere else.

Charlotte

Okay. I think it would help if we put the title of the story we are commenting on at the top of the post. This is not a criticism of you, but a suggestion to all participants in discussing this book or any other collections of stories.

Charlotte

Ginny:

What a fabulous way to start the day. I listened to your clickable. Now I'm going to Musical Heritage Society to see what I can find.

Charlotte

Yes, it's marvelous, isn't it? I listen to it all the time, Come, ye Sons of Art. One man's art is another man's artifice.

This will have to be my last post as am leaving for Chicago in the morning. I hope you all will continue sharing your insights here until we can get back, am counting on you all.

HEY, ANDREA!! So glad to see you, HEY MARJ!! I couldn't get much out of that story, you see it as the church vs. modern life and her taking it on? The kids with the strange names? In my own family we've had a Dootsie, a Floyd (woman), a Babe, and my neighbor across the street is an Early. I had a student once whose name was Brothel. Wonderful person, I always pronounced it Broth EL, as in Beth EL.

Our Fran writes that she is getting better and the bones seem to be healing, I sure will be glad to see her back, I miss her, our Helen is back from France and our Jim is in hospital again, best to him. why not send him a card: Jim Daisey: jimd@moose.ncia.net

"Living" is another one which knocked me away. One friend, Ellen, tells Faith she's dying. A friend dying. But Faith was "dying too." Here a friend is reaching out but Faith is saying that we're all dying, Faith can't deal with her friend's dying and so focuses on her own hemmoraging. Saying, hey, live a couple more years. Ellen is worried about the children. Faith says "I didn't worry about them. I worried about me. They were noisy."

And then Ellen dies. And Faith, relieved that she doesn't have to adopt her kids, tells her son "Ellen must be so proud of you." And he replies, "'She's not anything of anything, Faith.' Then he went to Springfield. I don't think I'll see him again."

Well now deep breath. If you've ever had a friend to die and you felt you weren't there enough for her or didn't do or say the right things but tried to "cheer her up" with songs of "we're all dying," then you know where this story springs from and the helplessness of the author who presents herself cruelly, starkly, relentlessly as self centered and non helpful, wishing she had Ellen, with whom she had shared so much, back again to talk to.

This thing is so searing as the author here, I feel, is really beating herself up for not being there when her friend needed her, for not knowing what to say or do, perhaps they weren't as good friends as Ellen thought they were. Perhaps it's hard to know what to say at what moment. Perhaps Faith here is beating herself up and presenting herself as unfeeling simply because she failed to say the right things.

Honestly, am I the only one blown away here by what the author keeps saying? This is one of those scarey stories which makes you look long and hard at everything you have ever done or tried to do for a "friend." This is one of those stories about issues in our own lives which we say and do one thing on the surface and feel differently about underneath.

How much regret, remorse, sadness, are we willing to beat ourselves up with? What is it that wakes YOU up in the night? That, to me, is what this story is about, note the desolation of the speaker at the end of the story. Jeepers. You don't live half a century or more and not have something like this rattling around somewhere, or do you?

See you all next Monday!

Ginny

According to her biograpy, Grace Paley was inordinately active in the feminist movement and anti-war protests, and I think a lot of these stories reflect those views. I see a sort of contempt for men, and we’ll have to admit, the way she depicts most of them is less than appealing. At least, however, she writes about vivid characters, a whole small country of “damaged, fragile, haunted citizens.” Like a true “writer’s writer” she observes the classic rules: she writes what she knows, she does not attempt too much, she shies away from any hint of cliche, and tells a simple and honest story. As Charlotte noted, I like the way she describes the neighborhood that she writes so flawlessly about:”a place where dumbwaiters boom, doors slam, dishes crash; every window is a mother’s mouth bidding the street shut up, go skate somewhere else, come home.” Ordinary people in unexceptional circumstances, these characters demonstrate the way man deals with the “little disturbances” of life.

Just received the book in the mail from a wonderful friend!

I'm confused about the second story (the one in which Anna, the daughter, delivers food each day to her "father", Michael, who is in an asylum). I don't understand the ending. Anna says, "Hey Zio, here's your dinner. Mama sent it. I have to go now."

Zio? I thought his name was Michael (like Anna's real father).

Any insights?

And now to catch up . . .

Lorrie - I think you're right about Paley's attitude toward men. Even the women who have "gone bad" have done so because of the meanderings of their men.

Ginny, yes, I feel as you do, blown away by Paley's gift of delivering truth. I don't know if I'm more amazed by what she sees or by the moving translations into story form.

But I feel less judgment all around. I didn't pick up (that much) self-blame in Living nor do I agree completely with Lorrie and Sarah in wondering about the author singling out men to blame in other stories. There are so few writers who tell women's stories clearly, without apology, without comforting the reader, that when we read one, there may be some scrambling to put it into familiar context. The author may mean for it to stand on its own, however.

The old statistic that won't go away is that over half (some years 60 percent) the emergency room admitions nationally are women who are beaten badly enough by husbands or boyfriends that they must be taken to the hospital.

The average man who completed one year of college still earns more than the average woman with a college degree. That is in the states with the highest paid women. In about 40 percent of the states, it only takes a high school diploma for a man to earn more than a woman with a degree.

We know statistics like this. So, when straight-forward stories of women are told, these women say things that reveal what life has been like for them. Unlike some writers who have a pronounced political agenda, Paley lets women talk as if no one is there to color it. Once I even read a sentence that sounded exactly right, even though I had no idea what the woman meant and I wondered if Paley had the same reaction after she typed it. But it fit the woman talking.

A lot of the feminists I know and with whom I feel most associated would fight for men to be valued as fathers as much as they would fight for women to be valued as achievers in the world of work. They, like I, feel that the artificial restraints on men's lives are just as damaging as the restraints on women's lives. If Grace Paley has been known as a feminist, then it is likely that she views people as whole, not fragmented, and as deserving to be seen as equal---that means seeing men as equally important in the lives of children. So, I would say that if we DID run across a story that seemed PRIMARILY to be about male bashing, then I might rule out feminism as something the author subscribed to.

Also, when I read a straight forward story of a woman who mentions a man who has mistreated her or who turned out to be a sorry partner for ten years, then I know that I am also reading ABOUT THE WOMAN, who may be slowly learning how to value herself. I don't subscribe, however, to the popular books that trash her and wonder what's wrong with her for repeatedly picking out awful partners. The road women take to finally, finally see themselves as whole creatures who deserve nurturing partners is the longest in the world. (By the way, the challenge that men take on to gain respect as fathers is even more difficult in our culture, in my opinion, than what a woman goes through in gaining respect for her career achievements. We SAY we support these changes, but offer little encouragement for those making them.)

As an afterthought---I enjoy reading good, documented pieces that squarely place blame. Chapter and verse, references, statistics. I also know that women and men who write such pieces are viewed differently. There are several very interesting studies where the same article is given to two groups of readers, the first group believes that the author is a woman and the second group, that it is a man. Readers who believe the author is a man have more trust in the article's premise, view the author personally as having more authority and, if the article is about a controversial subject, are more swayed by the author's view...than the readers who believe the author is a woman. I sometimes think about these studies when reading fiction or nonfiction by women.

I have known that Paley is a femenist and has been one for a very long time, but she does not place her politics above her writing. She is not out to bash men, but to understand human behavior. She is an excellent writer. I study her carefully and am learning from her.

Writers are advised to study other writers. SN is proving to be an excellent way of doing that. Reading the work several times rather than just reading for story and then making a snap judgement is not the way to go.

I studied feminism and the women's movement for years and am not where it's at right now. However, I am still very much interested. When I first went to college in the '60's I tried to do research on it. Very little was available. What there was, was in tatters. Since then there has been much available. The emphasis now is on developing women's potential not male bashing.

Hope you all saw NOT FOR OURSELVES ALONE on PBS. It's the story of Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. They've been my life-long heroes. Ken Burns taught me lots I didn't know about their battles. They fought for women'suffrage for almost seventy years, through impossible odds. We didn't get the vote till 1919, long after Stanton was dead. Every improvement in women's status in society began with them.

Charlotte

AOL or my PC wiped out my additional comments. What I also wanted to say is that writers like De Beauvoir, Germaine Greer, Kate Millett wrote about women's problems in a scholarly manner. Betty Friedan popularized it. It was De Beauvoir's SECOND SEX that changed my life and showed me I had a right to go to college, despite the fact that I had a husband, three children and a house to clean.

Charlotte

I'll be leaving here early Thursday morning to fly to Chicago, but I'm sure, as Ginny says, this folder is in capable hands. Please keep on posting your wonderful thoughts about these stories---Most of these comments have been very insightful. Betty, Alf, Andrea, Charlotte, Diane, and Sarah, you're doing a super job!

I also wanted to mention here that a couple weeks ago I wrote Grace Paley in care of her editors, inviting her to join us in our dis-cussions, but received no answer. Thanks to MargV's wonderful suggestionss, I went further and contacted CBC's Good Morning program asking for Paley's e-mail address. MargV says she had given an interview there recently. So far we've had no response, but we haven't given up. Wouldn't it be wonderful if Ms. Paley joined in one of our discussions? Keep your fingers crossed. See you Sunday night. Lorrie

Faith , Hope and Charles. Oh brother!! Definitely NO Charity in this reading, nor the family lineage. We are told that in that family people don't live long.

Faith became pregnant in happy over indulgence? What an inference.

Mother, who, when told Faith and the husband weren't together any longer, automatically places the blame on Faith, admonishing, "don't pay attention, fix your hair, etc." as they sit together their eyes cast down by shame. Yee, Gods, this IS a depressing piece. I am really trying to enjoy this , understand behaviors , motivations and the bigotry here, but I'm getting irritated with this writing. There for the Grace of God, go I!!! Mrs. Yenta - Hegel-Shtein directs the Grandmothers Wool Socks association as they "murmur about life and lives, " -like a kibbutz, an Israeli collective farm. She's sees lives and life as it really is, insisting that the indifferent Faith be told the story of Tess & June Bran. I enjoyed Mrs. Hegel-Shtein (with her grappling magnetism ) squashing her sorrow as she "rattled Faiths's ribs and fluttered her heart." Appropriate and well deserved..

Now it is time that leans across you and not handsome Arthur, she thinks as she FEELS Ricardos thumb jabbing her in her eye-- NOW SHE MOURNS.

I didn't feel that the fathers explosion of nausea, absolute digestive disgust needed much interpretation. He was insulted and turned away from her. One- it could have been because of the "little goyish" faces he doesn't get to see OR because of the bilious disposition of Faith. Did anyone wonder about the title? Faith meaning assurance, devotion, reliable loyalties. This woman had NO allegiances.

I asked the same question, who the heck is Zio? Why did she call him that? Does anyone have an idea about this?

GLOOMY TUNE: Reads almost LIKE a Loony Tune with the cadence of characters, recited in a rhythmic flow.

What a sad testimony to what has become of many young lives in our country, today.

Ginny, I hope you are enjoying yourselves up there in the windy city. I miss your comments.

Charlotte! Where do you find out all of this pertinent data re. Grace Paley? Thank you for sharing it with us.

I think I found the info from a clickable by Lorrie or else it was from B and N.

Charlotte

Lorries's post of 11/7-- I disagree that the stories have no emotional unity-- they are all unified in desolation, cruelty, thoughtlessness , and bordering on malicious behaviors. So, my friend, how do you feel safe? I feel quite the opposite- noone is stable... Each story reeks with damaged masses, some defensive and some defense-less. I love biting sarcasm, irony, and humor, but these stories leave me feeling poisoned, dehumanized, somehow. Certainly not safe. Faith repels me, with her whiny, "dying" monologue. In the face of a friend(?) verbalizing her fear of dying, Faith hits the bars, believing that "people need strengthening before the acts of life." Oh my God--- what a mouthful of anguish and bitterness. Megalomania personified. "ME,ME,ME!"

GP's expressive remarks i.e. having to be cockeyed to love and blind in order to look out the window at your own ice-cold street, caused me to pause-- wishing that Faith WOULD bleed to death "forever." God forbid that extra 10 minutes of good-nights was spared-- for her....as well as for the Ellen's son.

Jerry Cook--- WHAT A LOSER!!! I lived in Orange County (mentioned in the story) & YES there really were bigoted, flim-flam swindlers like he and Zandakis. They believe that! The world is an egg, to them; there to be sucked dry-- pure protein GP calls it. (

Didn't you lOVE that, Jerry believes it was democratic to erect high risers on the East Side and on the North Side. (Even Harlem which was aptly named "Spades.") Couldn't you just smack them? I did enjoy the description of Anna Marias husband who was so knotte up you wouldn't unravel him IF you started in August. OK, friends, so that was humorous.

Kitty--- poor damned fool in love with THAT and thinking life on Sunday was worth 2 weeks of waiting. For sure--- she is a friend of Faiths, the other social misfit.

Andrea:

What a wonderful piece of writing, but I'm sorry I can't agree with you. Paley is writing about a later generation than ours, perhaps in the wake of women's liberation. It is a far more difficult, painful world than when we came of age. Things are still changing and they are trying to survive, facing tragedy but trying to look at things with a sense of humor. Isn't that the way some of us communicate our problems to out friends, by trying to make light of them?

Right now I am having computer problems. Milt upgraded our computer to 5.0. I wrote a long post on Enormous Changes on my word processor. We couldn't post it on SN. He spent all last night working on it and sent several e-mails for help. He loves trying to find out how things work and I am so lucky to have an on-site techie who comes instantly when I call.

I'd been working on Faith In The Afternoon, which I do not see as a good story, but picked out some wonderful lines. Will send them once he gets things working properly.

Incidentally, we met Joan, Ginny, Katie and some others when the bash was held in NYC. I wrote that we would go even if we had to take a taxi. Joan arranged to have us meet her sister Kay who lives in Great Neck. We made a new wonderful friend and she drove us in. Everything that day was a five-star experience and everyone we met was an exceptional new friend. I didn't want to discourage anyone when they suggested Chicago in November, but I couldn't even think of going to the windy city at that time of year. I worry about them. Hope the weather is kind and doesn't dim their excitement and pleasure.

Charlotte

Thanks for your comments. I, for one am truly a humorist. Many times hiding behing the facade of dry wit and facetiousness (sp?.) I've always considered myself another Dorothy Parker

, altho homicide is more my speed than suicide. However, I DO NOT SEE THE HUMOUR IN THIS. I don't think that GP intends for these characters to spew jokes and enjoy farce. I have the sensation that these people are TRULY like this- a part of their egotism. They are all self-seeking soul searchers, believing life is ONLY about them!!! Charlotte, select one humorous facet from Faith in the Afternoon. Except for Mrs. Yenta Hegel-whatever, these folks are insipid, tedious and full of self absorption. She's comical because she GETS IT. She can't be cajoled or beguiled. Life is what it is, now deal with it.

I do not truly believe that the feminism movement would have made a bit of difference in these sordid characters. There are a vast number of people, prior to the introduction of Gloria Steinhem, who did not "accept" their fate lightly and so blatently malevolent.

I would have loved to atend the Chicago get-together. However, we just moved into our new home here in sunny SW Fla & Ill was out of reac, at that time. I selfishly asked Ginny if they would consider another spot in NYS, as I visit there frequently. Rest assured, my friend, I'll pick you up and get you "to the discussion on time."

Veering off course here, may I ask, have you suffered any Post polio syndromes. My email is ALF@exit33.com. Time for my golf lesson. TTFN Andrea

FAITH IN THE AFTERNOON by Grace Paley 11/11/99

At first I didn’t like this story. Paley put too much into it--too many other people. What comes through , is that Faith is in a depression about her marriage, tries to get help through an afternoon visit to her parents in the assisted-living center, but nobody is there to help her. Neither her father, mother or Mrs. Hegel.Shtein. Incidentally, she is appropriately named after the difficult philosopher Hegel and shtein, which means stone. Mrs. Darwin is also appropriately named after the discoverer of evolutionary theory. Mrs. Darwin has confided in Mrs. HS who spills everything out and makes Faith uncomfortable since she knows so much about her.

Despite the clumsiness of the story, I continue to be impressed with the originality of Paley’s language. At the beginning she addresses the reader as if from a stage:

“As for you, fellow independent thinker of the Western Bloc, if you have anything sensible to say, don’t wait. Shout it out right this minute.”

“Faith is “seasick with ocean sounds, the squealing wind stuck in its rearing tail by high tide.” Her grandfather “skated for miles along the Baltic beaches with a frozen herring in his pocket.”

Hope takes her off her eyeglasses, “she did not like even that little window of glass to come between her mother and herself.”

The mother wouldn’t consider leaving her adult children to wreck their lives “on the shoals of every day, without her tearful gaze attending.”

The grandfather departed in “blue pajamas for death--” echoes of the Holocaust.

Faith had only visited her parents once “since she began to understand that because of Ricardo she would have to be unhappy for a while.” I think this has a double-meaning. The parents do not really approve of her inter-faith marriage. Also she realizes that the marriage is going bad. “No doubt about it, squinting in any direction she is absolutely miserable.”

In thinking about her parents, she believes “their minds are on matter,” not on people.

I don’t quite understand why Ricardo gave unattractive pet names like Baldy and Fatty to his omen friends, though they never would be bald or fat. Then to save Faith from becoming an “old teabag” he “hoisted her on the pulpy rods of his paperbacked culture.” Note this is lower than hardbacked would have been.

He called their home Newcastle into which he reeled every night, “bl ind with coal.”

Notice that Faith only tells her troubles to strangers in line at the A & P and trieds to rationalize about Ricardo’s odd jobs.

Mrs. Hegel-Shtein knows everything about everyone as she travels about on her “oiled wheels. “ Faith’s mother has confided in her: She always seemed to know more about Faith than Faith knew about her. But Mrs. Darwin hoped that she would not spill the beans. Yet Mrs. HS pushes her to tell all the sad stories about Faith’s former friends. Instead of sympathy for the recounting, Mrs. HS seizes the opportunity to wail crocodile tears about her own problems. What a repulsive woman!

“She fluttered Faith’s heart. She rattled her ribs. She squashed her sorrow as though it were actually the least toxic of all the world’s great poisons.”

When Faith thinks of Ricardo it is if he is jabbing her thumb in her eye, “revealing the shallowness if her water table. “Rice could have been planted at that instant on the terraces of her flesh and sprouted in strength and beauty in the floods that overwhelmed her.”

Her father tells her “Learn from life. Mine.” He calls Mrs. HS insane, paranoid, with delusions of grandeur. But he loves Faith, calles her his darling girl and wants to see his grandchildren, even though he hasn’t accepted the inter-faith marriage. But he gives up in disgust when he realizes he cannot help her depression and turns away from her.

I find it a sad, depressing story, but I can’t get over the beauty of Paley’s language. It comes through despite the sloppy plot. Nothing has changed, except that Faith is more depressed than she was before she arrived. A change in character is a prerequisite for good fiction.

Charlotte

Aw come on. Of course they are self-seeking, self-absorbed soul searchers. Its the Me generation. If they didn't have a sense of humor, they would have never survived.

Thanks for the offer to pick me up. Love ya for it.

Will write an email on the PP info. as you suggest.

Charlotte

GP states "all together they would make a gd quadruped bilingual hermaphrodite." THAT is funny but not the characters. Ricardo- a sophisticated man, proud and happy because--- men liked him. The pet names, referring to flaws, added leverage to HIS loathsome self . A truly inferiority fueled by bringing ugliness to someone else. Even tho he lives, now with a shapely girl, he still calls her "Fatty" so it will detract from her, therby affirming his superiority.

I didn't connect Mrs. Hegel-Shtein with the philophers. Interesting idea-- stone. I caught the Darwin reference, however and attributed that to their survival of the Nazi era. Funny, you saw Mrs. HS as repulsive and she is the only character I liked. She, Ms. president of the wool Association organized the activity because children wear cotton socks all winter. The grammas are more sensitive to these facts-- as she is more sensitive to the facts (just the facts ma'am.)She knows it's a therapy session and blurts out "So it turns out you really have a little time to see your mother..." to Faith--what luck for HER you won't be busy forever." I loved her for that even tho, Faiths mother was mortified and excused her remiss behavior. Mrs. HS says she needs extra air --- WHY??

She knew Faith better than Faith knew her. She told her, be more "steady, move a little." I don't believe her references were all directed towards the wool, itself, rather Faiths temperment, her nature. Mrs. Darwin twisted and turned the wool (& her excuses for Faith) round and round. It was when the death of "the only son" was mentioned that Mrs. HS cried the tears that rolled down her old cheeks on deep tracks. BUT-- for 77 years she had smiled.. Thereby the tears swerved UPWARDS -- toward her ears ---(like a big grin.) The grooves were rutted UPWARDS. We could expound on that, I'm sure. Faith, on the other hand was indifferent -- I've already posted re. that point and don't want to belabor it. Why did you see Mrs. HS as repulsive, rather than a well rounded, intuitive busy body?

Faith should talk to the believing strangers at the A&P. They don't know her. (Fortunate for them, I say.)

Faiths father is jealous of his wife's alliance with Mrs. HS. He feels an orphan (till lunch.) :-0 Oy vay!! He believes she has magic powers. Why is that? He says what his wife sees in her is a shady mystery. It doesn't sound like a bitter crippled life she leads, to me. A shady mystery!!! Don't most of us enjoy that in the people that we encounter?

Charlotte: I am beside myself. I posted to you re. Mrs. HS and whyI truly Loved the old busy body. I LOST THE POST. Perhaps it is because I went on too quickly after that to read the posting in History. I am flabbergasted and annoyed, so I will cool off and come back and tell you why I loved her tears running UPWARDS (this is a result of too many years of smiling..) In the face of adversity, which changes a smile to a grimace, many times.. LIKE NOW!!!!

Faith surveys her world from up in the tree. What a safe have for her. I think it is to give Faith a sense of control as to where she can be; what she can do about something; a part of - but apart. Giving her thoughts. God looks down.(what a word picture: God unravels the stars to this day with little hydrogen explosions.) Faith looks down...and what is she unravelling?

I liked this: (second page) 'But me, the creation of His second thought......I can only see Kitty, a coworker in the mother trade; a topnotch craftsman...'

Much of the story didn't catch my interest.

---Marj

Andrea;

How interesting that we are on opposite sides of the fence. You just insist that people are generally good. I think Mrs. HS is just awful. The reason she knows so much about Faith is that Mrs. D has confided in her.She betrays Mrs. D's confidence by letting Faith know she knows everything about her.

She encourages Mrs. D to tell Faith about all the terrible things that happened to her friends, yet she doesn't sympathize. All she wants to do is tell about her own problems.

Her effect on Faith:

"Mrs. HS fluttered Faith's heart. She rattled her ribs. She squashed her sorrow as though it were actually the least toxic of all the world's poisons."

Andrea: Glad you answered my question about why Ricardo called his women by their pet names. I think you are certainly right, there.

Charlotte

GLOOMY TUNE:

I won't repeat the language, but the last part of the story where Chuckie and Yoyo have a fight is excellent. I can just see it happening. Paley is a great listener and observer of children's feelings. She got it exactly right.

LIVING:

An optimistic title for a very sad story. The narrator will go on living though she feels bad about the loss of her friend, because that's the way life is. Wherever you turn she says someone is shouting, not N. Hale's original patriotic statement, but "Give me liberty or I GIVE YOU DEATH."

It sounds as though Faith is having a miscarriage. In the middle of her own pain she thinks of adopting Ellen's son. She thinks of all the reasons not do it and amusingly remembers that he would also need an encyclopedia and a chemistry set.

But Paley knows that children are sometimes more mature than we give them credit for. He has already made his own decision.

I liked the cute line where she says "for a joke we stapled the kids snowsuits to our skirts."

.

As in our prior stories Ms. Faith(less) couldn't allow anyone else the courtesy of attention-- even when it came to dying.

COME ON YE SONS OF ART

This is Paley’s most difficult story so far. I had to take extensive notes in order to fully understand it. It is a very funny monologue with Kitty making only occasional comments. It is in the tradition of the Stand-up commedian in Burns and Allen style. Kitty confines herself only to one-liners.

This is obviously an extra-marital affair since there are two-week intervals between visits. Jerry is the misfit at his job, perhaps too smart, which makes him over-qualified. He is unsuccesful at being a manipulator and envies his sister Anna Marie for being “crooked.” She has learned this method of operation from their parents.

Kitty is loving and tolerant. She says, “I wish I could help you be more crooked.” Sounds like Marilyn Monroe. When Jerry mentions the diamond business and exchanging sex with old ladies who will buy anything., she says “Don’t go into diamonds.”

Jerry tells her that she thinks the world is ROUND, denying Galileo. My sister Anna Marie knows its real shape. “It’s crooked,” he says. “Everyone else is crooked except you, Kitty. Straight and dumb like you.” He drags her to him to give her a minute kiss to show he doesn’t mean it as an insult. Kitty tells him they’re all thieves.

He then begins to tell about his brothers who are also crooked, but Anna Marie is more shrewd and crooked than they are. She tells them to steal a little something: a sink, stove, washing machine--a little at a time. She tells her brothers, but Jerry is not in on it.

“I don’t know why,” he says, “ I’m crooked too.”

“Sure you are.” Kitty reassures.

He recounts Anna Marie’s other business practises, her warehouse, her manipulation of her brothers. She manipulates the public by naming her housing developments after social reformers instead of artists. Jerry believes in his own good intentions. We see that he has made Kitty pregnant. He promises to send the kid to Harvard if he can only figure out the right angles.

Kitty wants to talk about his bosses--Zadakis and Gladstein Gladstein “ doesn’t exist, he says. They hung him up by his thumbs in his five and ten on 125th Street with mercerized cotton no. 9.” When she laughs, he tells her “Don’t laugh at me.”

Suddenly he is the Sorcer’s Apprentice. He will make dozens of pancakes, gallons of juice for Kitty’s dumb kids. “I hate a dumb kid,” he says, “I always think it’s me.” He goes off to cook, while she snuggles down under Faith’s grandmother’s quilt and listens to Purcell’s wonderful music on Jerry’s brother’s orange radio. Are these things borrowed or stolen? Perhaps Jerry can only be crooked in small ways.

I see Jerry as a misplaced artist and humorist. He sees people as they really are and cannot remake himself in their image. His crookedness is smaller than that of the rest of his family. It is perhaps expressed in taking things from friends and family which he feels will not get get him in trouble. Of course his most important evidence of crookedness is the affair with Kitty who he sees only at two-week intervals. He is the clown who laughs publicly at himself, but cries alone.

As Arnold Schwartzenegger says, “I’m baaaaack!” What a wonderful series of posting everybody has been doing here about this book. I won’t go into details about the serio/comic aspects of the Chicago trip, but I will say, with fervor, it’s great to be back at this computer!.

SAMUEL Even though I had read it before, I came back to this story and reread it with the same horror. I was actually “there” in that subway car with those timid women and the men thinking of their own boyhoods and I felt again that premonition of tragedy. Paley’s description of Alfred, Calvin, Samuel, and Tom’s “jiggling” on the platform between the doors of the subway cars is vivid and terse. She tells why one woman was more afraid of being embarrassed than of being hit if she remonstrated, and her quiet determination when she finally did protest. I think a behavioral clue was given when Paley wrote, “one of the men whose boyhood had been more watchful than brave” became angry, then walked in a “citizenly” way to the emergency cord and pulled it. It was sudden contrast—one minute we see carefree youths daring to ride the platform between cars, laughing and clapping each other on the back, then utter tragedy when the trainmen “who knew about this kind of death and how to take the body from the wheels and brakes” were called. This may be one of the shortest stories in this book, but I feel it has tremendous impact. I was shaken after reading it, and still am. Lorrie

Lorrie...it IS a very "shaken up" tale.

Slam! Bang! I think Paley is telling what boys do when there is no guidance, etc. A tale of horror. And city dwellers read many of these horrific stories daily.

That sentence (which Lorrie also quoted), in Paley's inimitable, in-your-face style, has stayed in my mind: "The train had stopped hard, halfway into the station, and the conductor called at once for the trainmen who knew about this kind of death and how to take the body from the wheels and brakes." Nothing we like to think about...nevertheless a reality.

--Marj

Subways have always had a macabre fascination for me. I can remember many years ago when I worked in Chicago how I would stand on the platform at the station and keep staring at that third rail, wondering what it would feel like to touch it, and when Paley wrote about how they had a certain crew to clean up after similar accidents, it made me think of the final scene in "Anna Karenina" when she threw herself under a train. How did we get on this subject, anyhow? I think tomorrow we can start talking about "The Burdened Man," unless someone has some more comments about "Samuel." To be perfectly frank, at first I wasn't too crazy about reading this book--I don't usually like short stories, but now that I'm into it, I'm enjoying the read very much. Lorrie

Happy to have you all back again. We missed you. I need help (ask Charlotte.) I have an abysmal dislike for everyone of Grace Paleys characters. Is there anyone else that sees them as I do, or am I unreasonable harsh to their defects? (especially Faith - (less)

Alf, I know what you mean. I haven't found myself particularly attached to any of these characters either although that may be partly because these are short stories. Not enough time to get into what's inside.

One exception though, in FAITH IN A TREE, when Faith says, "Richard and Phillip were holding hands, which made Richard look like a little boy with a daddy. I could cry when I think that I always treat Richard as though he's about forty-seven." There's enough in those two sentences to write a whole book around. And it revealed a deep down soft spot in Faith that made me want to somehow make things better for her...and Richard. That really got me. Big sigh.

Lorrie, you also noted the passage where the man walked in a "citizenly way". Don't you just love it, can't you just see it?

There have been so many brief passages in this book that I wish I could/would commit to memory but alas, will probably only touch for a moment before being forgotten. I still remember the description earlier, though, about the guy who "held all his anger in his teeth".

Hi All:

When I first started this book I didn't like it all. But I was impressed by Paley's language and decided to study the stories in detail. I couldn't read "Come on Ye Sons" without taking extensive notes. This one was more than I could chew. I had to set a special time aside to read it. Digestion made me see what she was trying to do, things came clear and I decided this was a great story.

I have had an epiphany. SN has an effect on my own writing. I am learning from Paley how to learn from other writers. It shows in in my own work.

Charlotte

Paley doesn't expect us to like or identify with her characters. What she is trying to do is to show her characters as they really are. Of course the character in Come on Ye Sons is not admirable. He has a sense of inferiority because he lives among "crooked," despicable characters. They are his only role models. He wonders why he can't be as successful as they are. What keeps him going is his sense of humor and his reaching out to others like Kitty. Granted that it is most likely an extra-marital affair, nevertheless it is a good relationship.

We're not either all bad or all good. We're all human--moral and amoral at the same time.

Charlotte

Andrea:

I love your sense of humor in your new name for Faith. It shows you're sticking to your guns.

(Apologies for my analogy: I really don't think "guns" is a good word, but it was a quick expression to use before aol or my computer shut me off. Having trouble this morn.

Now!! This story I liked. Every sentence reeks with this poor guys "burdens" in life. The money, the continuation of his family's life, consumation of electricity, the expense of gas, utilities, newspapers (times 3), borrowed clothes-- on and on-- LIFE -is this guys burden. He's afflicted with mediocrity. He's anxious over where the "money all of his life" will come from. Penniless & faint, he feels, as he throws two pennies @ his neighbor - "to be strong."

A short-cake he brings home to the wife and son. Hmmm!! good choice of words here. GP allows you to feel his narrowness, his emptiness . He needs assuranceunder the stress of his insignificance. His strongest plan required no further plan- I loved that! He didn't know "for sure" whether the neighbor's husband was right describing his wife as "cold." The cop tried to remember what inhibition had abandoned him and where he got the energy to kill the crazy boy and our character finds out!!

At the end, hospitalization paid for nearly all .

The subway stop remained the same and until old age "STARTLED" (shocked?) him he was hardly unhappy again.

I loved the description of a mixture of "warm refreshments was being pumped out of the chambers of his heart to all his COLD extremities." Nice touch and I finally found a story here that makes me feel better about buying this book.

To me, this story pretty much sums up the entire book; wonderful sentences, descriptive words- BUT no meat to the characters. Artificial and superficial, they all are.

Alexandra got propositioned because "she had an interesting mind," SO due to her respectability she placed a barrier of truthful information between them. Is she synthetic? she didn't wish to belabour the familial love point, as they had "already had the factual and introductory conversation." She asks HIM if he's brand-new & tells him "he's been seen on earth before." Is that what stopped him dead in his tracks? Was this statement the deciding factor of her astonishing, long-living, erotic mind?

How well GP characterizes the father, in his "cave of old age." I love that sentence- the cave of old age. He was sick with old age, with arteries of a hopeless future.

What do you think of the title of the book Alexanra reads, as dad sleeps?

Can we discuss "the sufferer, John, who had more reason to dread the future, due tothe fact his heart was strong ?

I'm way behind you. Glad you found a story you liked. I'm also doing Faulkner, Morante and trying to do some writing. Milt and I share this one computer. Takes me time to catch up.

Charlotte

I'm doing too much, too. But still trying to read the posts. Your post 105, Charlotte, is exactly how I feel about Paley's writing. She's trying to get it right. Sorry, Andrea, but I think Paley might have intended some of your disliked characters. Then, again, some of these stories ARE much better than others.

Recently, I have tried to analyze my dislike of these characters & have come to the conclusion that I DONT HAVE TO like them. Perhaps, I have met too many of these types. I can choose (at my age now) who I want to like &/Or dislike. In my reading, I expect to be entertained, amused or in some way, derive enjoyment from those I let into my thoughts. I well understand GP's characters, perhaps that is the crux of it.

1st time I had considered it was when I left the room to read, while one of those "Action" movies was being enjoyed by my husband. I wanted that choice!! To be entertained my way, by enjoying my character. Perhaps, I should grow up, hey?

Betty, don't worry about being behind--I'm still catching up, story by story.

Alf, I agree with you about not feeling any empathy toward Grace Paley’s characters. I realize she writes a style of “in-your-face” as one of our readers mentioned, but I certainly don’t see any compassion or real sympathy here. In fact. As I read along, I get the feeling that this is one “hard-boiled” lady, as my father used to say. I have the utmost respect for her gritty way of telling a tale, but I wonder what she’s like as a person, herself?

Charlotte, I’d like to ask you how Paley’s book is a sort of epiphany for you. You say her style has affected how you yourself write—in what way? I wish I could state that after reading Paley stories, my poor attempts at writing stories had improved dramatically, but I’m afraid they’re just as banal as ever.

THE BURDENED MAN

After reading this one, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I thought it started out hilariously, with poor Alfred worrying about all the expensive gas his wife is using to “cook and cook.,” how ATT swallows up every phone charge, the son’s tearing of the borrowed pants, etc. And the less than romantic way Alfred and his married neighbor form a relationship, beginning with their throwing money at each other on the street. Didn’t you jist love the way he planned their next encounter? “He wondered if the kitchen might not be the best place to start because it was narrow.” That cracked me up. And then,“However, she would never get away if he approached at the dishwashing machine.” But I didn’t think it was that funny toward the end. Maybe my sense of humor isn’t black enough, but I felt sort of sorry for the cop. He wound up worse than any of them, really. Lorrie

I have re-read the story of the boys playing on the platform of the subway... Did I understand correctly? When the man pulled the emergency cord, the sudden stop toppled one of the boys onto the track.

Yes, Pat, you read it correctly. That was the horror of it all! Hey, good to see you in here! Where's Ginny? Are they holding her hostage at the Congress like somebody said? I hope you enjoy reading this collection of short stories further, and please join in any time! There have been some excellent comments here. Lorrie

PAT; Welcome home from the Windy City. Hop right on this train, my friend. Don't you love it when the conductor called one of the trainmen who "KNEW" about this kind of death? Like an ordinary occurance? Oh boy!

Lorrie: I had the feeling that the cop did okay. He wanted to know what had given him courage before, to shoot the boy. He had received a medal for this. Knowing he had been brave once, he wondered if he could be brave again. The answer is NO. He sure didn't hit to kill. I had the feeling that GP showed us that his 15 minutes of fame would not come again. He also returned to his "mediocrity." What I didn't get was when Mrs. Keilly was questioned she replied, "no,no no." Any thoughts on that?

ENORMOUS CHANGES

WOW! This one is a real thought-provoker. On this particular story I won’t comment too much, because frankly, it’s a little too deep for my bubble brain.

I did gather this much: Alexandra is a social worker who works with troubled teens, and who meets and becomes impregnated by a cab-driving hippie. Her father is in a hospital where she visits three times a week, and who has a roommate named John, who is terminal, but “is not yet ready.”

At my particular age, (76) I found some of the passages referring to death as quite depressing like “she could see straight ahead over the thick hot rod of love to solitary age and lonesome death,” or when her father says, “when you get there you will not want to live a hell of a lot. You will be used up. You’re like a coal burning, smoldering. Then there’s nothingleft to burn. Finished. At that moment you won’t mind.”

I realize Paley tells it like it is, and some of these sentiments are beautifully written, but what a bleak thought!

Alf, I also liked the phrase "cave of death," and for some reason I sort of liked John, Alexandra's father's bedmate. What do you think the significance of "The Guns of August" was? Lorrie

Here I is (G) in your face too.I remember An aunt once who said to me "God knows how long to knit the stocking" and I, still in my twenties asked "what does it mean" and she "a livly. entertaining seventy something said "God takes things away one at a time until you're ready to go too because there's nothing left that you want to live for ".

Grace Pauly's stories ring a bell with me. My own are somewhat dusky, with black endings. see them on my page when you have time. i.e. "Siblings" and "A Practical Woman" and "Teentalk".

No I'm not much of a writer but now and then something pops out of me....usually with a dark or surprise ending.

NOw to see if the library has ENORMOUS CHANGES.

Claire

Lorrie:

What has happened about my writing is that I've gone back to stories I wrote about 10 years ago and gave up on. Now I see that they have possibilities and am going back to finish them.

In writing classes I was often told to study other writers, but I didn't know how to go about that. Now I study each story in great detail. The reading helps the writing.

Reading a collection by one author, also seems to be where it's at.

Marilyn has published a story of mine in Sonata and a poem in E.E. Stubbs Journal. She is also interested in more of my work.

Charlotte

Claire: Great to see you! I thought you might enjoy writings by Grace Paley. I have a feeling she's your kind of woman, whatever that is. I'll be checking your page, and comment later. Hope the library has a copy for you---shouldn't be too much trouble, I don't think it was a recent best-seller. Hop on this train anytime> Lorrie

Charlotte: Do you remember in which issue of Sonata you were published? I've got a couple pieces in the current issue, (Thanksgiving and Christmas) but I'd like to read yours some time. Marilyn has been a tremendous help to me in trying to write. I admire her wonderful talent in so many things, and that indominatable spirit! Lorrie

Does anyone else out there have any negative feelings about this story, too? I suppose it's good that this is a book of short stories, so we can more or less pick and choose the ones we like. I know I personally liked a couple others more than this one, but some people seem to think this is one of Grace Paley's best. What's your opinion? Lorrie

LOVE the way you all are dissecting these stories. I am so far behind I may never catch up, not sure I want to. From your remarks, I may pick and choose and just skip a few. I have found this writer rather grating with the kernels of grab-you-truth a little few and far between, so that I lose interest in between them!

Lorrie! Good to be home and put the feet up a while, isn't it!

Welcome, Jeryn! How true, it's so good to relax at home, right? I'm really struggling with this particular story--I can't seem to grab all the nuances of these different characters. I'm going to reread a few more lines, see if I can make better sense. Lorrie

Lorrie:

My story "The Dumb Cane" was published either one or two issues ago. Maybe Mal can help us out. I think she must have archives. Will look for your story in present issue.

Charlotte

I just ordered the book you are all reading from my local library. It's in the county system and will take a few days plus twenty five cents. I hope I can catch up. I'm putting off reading all your posts until I have it in hand, but these latest ones are intriguing. I can't wait (S)

Claire

should come out in the January Feb issue of Sonata.....my but we're in ingrown lot. Mal is my favorite publisher. Having some of them on my page has resulted in others publishing me too. Now to get paid --someday ?

Claire

Wouldn't that be nice, Claire? I'd like to get paid for what I do, too.
Lorrie, Charlotte had a story in the last issue of Sonata and will have two in the January-February issue. I am running low on web page space, but when I get the third issue of the m.e.stubbs poetry journal on the web this week, I'll upload Charlotte's page so you can see her story. No, I don't have archives, Lorrie. With three magazines to publish, I can barely afford the web page space they take.

Well, now, it looks as if I have to get this book somehow, so I can join in this discussion, even though I'm going to be rather more busy than usual.

Mal

MAL, it's great to hear from you! Thanks for the information bout the past Sonata stories. I'm thinking I'd better print out all the latest stories in Sonata and WREX pages so I'll always have a copy. By all means try to get a copy of "Enormous Changes" if you can. I'd like to hear your opinion on this particular writer. I have a feeling that her "tell-it-like-it-is" style would appeal to you, just like Claire.

CLAIRE: I'm looking forward to reading "Rascal" when it comes out.

To all you readers: If you're still waiting for a copy of the book, don't worry about missing anything. After all, it's short stories, and we will be going back and forth commenting on all of them. I'm sure some of you have a couple you like more than others, like I do, so we will welcome any comments or criticisms.

Tomorrow we're supposed to be about "Politics" and "Northeast Playground."

HEY, ALF, DIANE, BETTY G, AND MARGV: Where are you all? Have you given up on this book, I certainly hope not. Hop on, we miss you! Lorrie

Lorrie, I have nearly every web page I ever made saved in my html program, so if you miss one and want to print it out, please let me know.

Do you know what? ALF very kindly offered to share her book with me, and I haven't even met her. What a wonderful thing to do! Thank you, ALF.

Mal

POLITICS

This is a story of contrasts. In a very sedate, controlled manner, a group of women descend upon City Hall to protest playground safety, but they sing their demands rather than shout them. This polite description of their presentation, in contrast with the fairly bawdy song lyrics, is very funny, I think.

The idea of the song-fest came from a “media man from the far middle plains” who “loved our old moldy pot New York.” The most ludicrous, however, was the Camus-quoting policeman who, after being caught by a local reporter in the act of removing baseball equipment, impregnated the reporter with two sons, one Irish, one Italian, who “sang to her in dialect all her life.” Wonderful!

The music motif is carried all through this story, right to the end, and including how the mayor and Board members “murmured in a kind of startled arpeggio round.”

It brings to mind the one time I went to City Hall in a group to request something or other, but if we had sung our protests at that time, we would have been thrown out.

Paley’s ironic lyrics in the laments of these women are her own, I’m sure, and the tongue-in-cheek presentation is a prize-winner. This story I found to be very amusing, especially the ending! Lorrie

I loved the picture of the babies taking up the whole "desert" of a sandbox. A place where kids with a daddy couln't get a wet toehold.

The answers to Why they're all there amused me. Accident, happen-stance, what-ever! All there, unified in their parenthood, regardless of whether they were whores, single-minded, "ditched" women OR love - child bearers. Was Little Claude, called Pancake because that symbolizes dough that has been browned?

Don't you love the word ghettoization? It is just that! A section to which an ethnic or economic group is restricted. Their's being restricted by social pressures. The whores and junkies were "disgusted" to see their children dirty. The others, unwed on principle, considered them "rigid," but NOT hopeless due to the environment.

The playground ghetto! We reap what we sow.

I don't even wish to comment on THE LITTLE GIRL story. Horrible!

We reap what we sow

Could GP actually be writing about her OWN style of writing here? The writer despises stories with plots, because it takes all hope away. "Everyone deserves the open destiny of life." After pondering that, I still don't like her style, but it makes more sense than regarding her writings as depressing, frustrating , fruitless exhaustion of prose, full of melancholy. Our writer, in this story tell an "unadorned and miserable tale." Not unlike Ms. Paley, I'd say ... The father objects to "people sitting in trees talking senselessly." Is this our friend, Faith (less) we meet again?

All of you wonderful writers in this group, do you agree with the father when he exclaims, " the trouble with stories is that people start out fantastic, but it turns out as the work progresses, they're just average with a good education," etc. Are we speaking of embellishment here?

Pa's the smart one, examining character.

Get ready. ALF is sending me the book. Guess you're going to see me around. Thank you so much again, ALF.
Lorrie, what a great picture of you in Chicago! Wow, I love it! I wish I could steal it for the Photograph Page in The WREX Pages.

Okay, folks, this literary hound is off to the kitchen to see what I can whip up for dinner tonight.

Mal

I'm so glad you and Claire have the discerning eye that recognizes true beauty when you see it!! haha Lorrie

Jeepers, 57 new posts! You all have kept the fires blazing bright while I've been schmoozing with our Books Folks in Chicago! Why LORRIE GORG, wouldn't take a mint for having met you, you all march right over to the Chicago discussion and take a gander at the gorgeous Lorrie!! Once again we Books people pulled it out and emerged triumphant, a tribute to those who went and succeeded!!

So now we're near the end and we have this recurring character Faith whom I find I can't relate to at all and I wonder what happened to the writing, every page is a shock to me, unhappy, nasty, and Faith's narrative runs through it, even up to the last. Is it moi?

Uneven, choppy, where is the brilliance of the first few pieces??

Ginny

WELCOME BACK, OUR GINNY!

NORTHEAST PLAYGROUND

In this one, I could almost see the narrator telling the “relief” mothers who kept apart from the rest, about her early experiences with political segregation. Most of them answered with a polite “Really?’ but Janice says “Beat it!” This ends this very witty story and says it all.

THE LITTLE GIRL

I just finished reading this story and I’m still shaken. Alf, I can understand now why you couldn’t comment here. Paley’s searing description of what happened in that miserable room is the kind that stays with you longer than you care for, and won’t be forgotten easily. Her instinct for authentic dialect is admirable, though.

CONVERSATION WITH MY FATHER

This one I immediately recognized as being all too familiar, having personally struggled with plot, coherent stories, the whole ball of wax. Obviously Grace Paley is writing about herself here. She has always stated that she hates “structured” stories. I love the lines in the third paragraph–“plot–an absolute line between points that I’ve always despised. Not for literary reasons but because it takes all hope away. Everyone, real or invented, deserves the open destiny of life.” Wonderful!

How about when, instead of saying simply, “he ate,” she writes “to the mouth of his head he brought hard apples, nuts, etc..” Great! Do you see the comparison by the old man between the lady across the street and his own daughter? “When will you look it in the face?” he asks her.

From what I’ve read of Paley’s biography, in real life she was close to her father, and it shows here. Her ususal ironic, sometimes contemptuous regard for the people she writes about is missing here, and I sense an affection and respect she shows no one else. As in most of her stories Paley relies on conversation to establish character, and she reproduces Jewish, Black, and Irish dialects with startling accuracy, as in the harrowing tale “Little Girl.”

I had to be very selective in November with my books (Chicago) therefore I did not join this discussion. Having just reviewed the posts I noted there was a discussion about names and our dear Ima Hogg's name was mentioned. Here are some links to better explain the well loved Lady. I must add that while Ms. Hogg was still alive and humor was appropriate, Texans always joked about Ima's sister Eura.

Who's Who of Great Houstonians, Miss Ima Hogg known as "The First Lady of Texas" and named by her father, James S. Hogg after the heroine of a long epic poen written by her unlce, Thomas Elisha Hogg.

Ima Hogg's home now Hogg Museum at Bayou Bend housing a fine collection of American decorative arts and paintings in the Bayou Bend Collection, catologed by The Museum of Fine Arts, Houston in association with Princeton University.

James S. Hogg. the first native-born governor of Texas, known for naming his only daughter, Ima (1851-1906)

Governor Hogg Shrine Ranch and State Park - The Miss Ima Hogg Museum

Ima Hogg FOUNDATION, Scholarship

The Hogg Foundation includes both the Will C. Hogg Fund, which supports new mental health projects throughout the state of Texas, and the Ima Hogg Endowment, which only supports direct mental health services for children and their families in the Houston metropolitan area.

The first volunteer group of the Houston Symphony, the Women's Committee, was born in 1937 under the visionary hand of Miss Ima Hogg.

Barbara: Thank you for your post-- I can hardly believe this!

Ginny: I am so HAPPY to have you back with us. Check my posts. I hated this read, but plodded thru. I'm sending it on to Mal for her perusal. (ONLY if she promises to post her thoughts.)

Oh how I miss Leslies "PEARS," which I felt at least I could contribute to. Finishing "Enormous Changes" was a chore; particularly when I considered all of the grumbling and complaining I did. I, so hate whiners.

Well the thing is, Andrea, that counts too. That's what we're about and if you had to struggle to finish it, you finished it and your thoughts are as valid as mine or anybody else's. I love it that we've taken such a diverging path here, Lorrie still admires her humor and way with words and I'm floating in an appalled morass, ME, who was so enthused! Perhaps I'll reread them just once more, they're very short.

And then when we get to the end, let's see how we feel about the way they're arranged. For instance, does the positioning of the Faith stories as they are mean anything at all? Why not lump them all together.

Barb, thanks for those Ima Hogg references, it's amazing, isn't it? But it says it was his only daughter, what happened to Ura?

Ginny

And so, Andrea, you say you miss PEARS which you felt you could contribute to? Maybe that's what I'm missing, not PEARS but a sense of something I can relate to. For me she started out with truths beneath the veneer and has sequed into an unknown land peopled with foul mouthed unpleasant people, but I'll press on.

But how important to us IS it that we relate to something in a book? I couldn't relate to PEARS at all (should I admit that?)

Ginny

I didn't try to understand Faith. She was beyond my exposure to the human race... But she certainly was an interesting person... not exactly my idea of a mother... a very irresponsible, flighty soul.

But the stories were interesting if they were read with the idea of reading for escape.

But the stories don't make me want to read anything else by Pauley... She's just a little too weird for me.

I'm with you, Pat.

Whew! So, I'm not the only one.

What has been frustrating to me about Paley's writing is her liberal sprinkling of gems of descriptions, just twinkling away on the heaps of plots and characters that I didn't care about. I'm glad to have been exposed to her wit and unique way with words but I don't think I'd go out of my way to read anything else by her. I'm quite sure, also, that I'm a person who much prefers a long-term relationship, as in a biography or novel, to short stories. After a few, I just wanted to get my teeth into something gripping.

I shouldn't admit this but I've begun Burgess's book, "One Hand Clapping" and am really enjoying it.

One Hand Clapping is good. Delightfull after Enormous Changes

There never was a Eura or Ura... it was a joke that Ms.Ima Hogg enjoyed as much as the rest of the state.

Pat: I see "escape" as avoidance. The book , Enormous changes, was what I should have avoided, shunned and escaped from.

On to the next one, for me.

Happy that you have all safely returned to round out our discussions. :- )

I'm still waiting for my local library to come up with the county's copy of Enormous Changes. It's odd but having read all these negative posts about it and only a couple that seemed to find it interesting, but wierd, I want to see it more than ever. Perhaps because I'm a litttle WIERD:-}

Claire

Alf, I'm sorry you found it such a "chore" to post in here. I thought you were really into this book. I know I enjoyed reading your comments. Do you all really think it's fair to compare an ongoing reviewed book with another, unless it is to point out specific differences? I'm sure we'll all like reading "one Hand Clapping," and I know some of you miss "Pears," but aren't they an entirely different genre? I absolutely abhor some of Grace Paley's stories, but love others! And I'll always admire the way she can put words together in an inimitable style! Lorrie

If I detest or feel an aversion to a character, I give the author credit for eliciting that reaction. Into a blank space she writes something. Then I respond to it. In fact, a negative reaction from me is a measurement on a scale of "could this really happen this way?" I, too, enjoyed some stories more than others, but I had strong reactions to all of them. I also am awed by her courage to "see" in original ways.

lORRIE: The chore here was not so much to post as it was to relate my impressions and the images, I saw. In summation, I saw many of these characters as people I have tried to avoid IN LIFE, those that I distrust because of their superficiality, selfishness & self seeking absorption. That's all. I just didn't LIKE them and Betty's correct when presuming that if an author can fill us with repulsion or ANY strong emotion, then she has met her goal.

The varied reactions of the other readers to these characters, many totally opposite than my own, is what I enjoyed the most. As I've said many times-- Literature is like music... with all of the different inflections and impressions; to be enjoyed by the masses.

This will be my last post here. I wish you all a glorious, happy Thanksgiving filled with love and gratitude. Andrea

Hi All:

Well I’ve been through Paley once and have decided that “Wants” is her best story. I liked the humor and feelings of resignation expressed by the character. She would like things to be different, but there’s nothing she can do about it. She must accept her life as it is.

The author is not great on plots, but she has a marvelous ear for language and occasionally wallops us with a magnificent word picture. And you can actually hear the dialogue in the dialect in which she records them.

What she is writing about is my daughters’ and sons’-in-law generation. I am fortunate in that there are no broken marriages in my family, as yet, but I hear horror stories from the kids all the time. These women are going through a transitional period, trying to balance life, work and marriage all at the same time.

GP can only write about what she knows and what she knows is what life is like for women living on the lower east-side of Manhattan where the poor are interspersed among the well-off. Models, actors, and other people in the arts sit in the park to watch their children at play. Among them are the prostitutes, junkies, homeless and wierdos she gets to know.

I will go back and read the stories and comment on them one by one. I expect to learn a lot through study of the writing process.

Charlotte

Sorry to lose you. Paley is telling us these stories so we will understand and empathize with what is going on in our sick society. Somebody has to tell it like it is.

Hope to see you in another discussion soon.

Warm regads,

Charlotte

The whole point of the Book Club Online is our reactions to different works of literature, whether or not we appreciate it. The final question is not did I like it or not but did I learn anything at all from it? I really appreciate Andrea plugging thru and continuing to the end of it. I did too. It was like pulling teeth for me to finish it, but the first story blew me away. Perhaps that's the difficulty with a collection of short stories, this is the first such collection we've read. I can't relate to this Long Distance Runner, surreal, it really is, and I find I don't like Faith either. Yet, as Betty says, Faith is just a creation of the author and it's a measure of Paley's ability to create that we have any reaction at all. I like that concept.

Charlie has made a suggestion that we dedicate, in 2000, each month of the Book Club Online to a different genre of literature so that at the end of the year, we might have had an entire palette of reading pleasure and exposure to almost everything there is, including best sellers. I like his ideas very much, do go look at Nominations and express your opinions! We will still vote on books, but will limit books to the categories for the month, I can't see that that will be any sort of hindrance, do you?

Likewise the raging issue now is the Harry Potter books, should we or should we not read one as the Book Club Online? What do you think?

Ginny

Harry Potter Books... They have caused some furor in a few schools... In fact our principal removed the 2 books that came as a donation from a parent... Now I just have to read them all...

They are being taught in the Parker, CO school system where Meredith, my granddaughter is in 5th grade.

I have read the first one in the Harry Potter series--wanted to see if my grandson [not an eager reader] would like it. I loved it! Far fetched fantasy but funny! Just enough ooomph to keep the adult reader reading. I recommend it. I will have to ask my grandson if he ever finished it yet.

they have enormous changes for me. I'm a little late, but all your revues have made me want to read it as for the Potter books?????never heard of them. . but I guess I will be ....hearing!

I'm still trying to digest these last few stories in Grace Paley's book. IMMIGRANT STORY: Faith's friend Jack, who is filled with dark, ancestral grief that apparently makes him angry, "has no way out but continuous rage or the nuthouse," as Paley writes. To me, the story about his father sleeping in the crib seemed not only incongruous but incomprehensible' I just don't get it. Paley's usual flair for the adept phrase, the uncommon discription, is very evident here. Like, "his mind thickened with ideas," or "she had shaved her head, like a backward Orthodox bride. Those are wonderful! And then the story of the immigrants is softly brutal, yet somehow touching. No one could remain unaffected after reading of those two tragic figures sitting holding hands in the shadowy darkness of their kitchen. Lorrie

THE LONG DISTANCE RUNNER

Here again the writing is incredible. From “before old age and urban renewal ended them and me,” to “with excellent support, not to attract the attention of old men and prudish children.” The story is enigmatic–apparently Faith, on one of her runs decides to visit the old neighborhood where she once lived, which is now predominately black. Somehow she manages to get involved with a young mother and her four children, moving in with them and staying for three weeks or more. Grace Paley’s feminism is obvious here, she compares notes with Mrs. Liddy about past lovers and the men who had left them both. But it seemed to me that the whole story dealt mostly with nostalgia. Faith kept remarking about what the neighborhood used to be like, and it seems like every building has personal memories for her.

She is an abrasive writer. You either like her or despise her. I personally don’t think I’d like to have someone like her protagonists for a friend, but I do respect the talent she shows in these somewhat plotless tales.

I look forward to what our new commentators will have to say about this book Lorrie

Yes but they are soooooo interesting and loveable too. The abrasion is a symptom of vulnerability. They are accessable, not hiding behind the social mores of the time and place. I have severl S).

I'd like to wish you all a very Happy Thanksgiving, and a relaxing day tomorrow!

See you on Friday!

Ginny

Same here, Ginny!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!

When I first looked at this story I decided that she included too many people. Let's face it Paley is not a quick read. She is in the tree because she feels apart from the people in the park and is looking down at them, trying to describe what she sees. It is a real melange of the mix you find in a NYC park, mothers, kids, people in the arts, junkies, prostitutes, people who have everything and people who have nothing. Her language is still where it's at. Some of the other women are her "co-workers in the mother trade.", The one God "who unravels the stars to this day with little hydrogen explosions.", "Mrs. Finn broad barge--a couple of cabooses dragged by a clothesline at her stern; on her fat upper deck Wiltwyck (appropriate name for a terror of a child) a pale three-year-old roaring captain with smoky eyes." Mrs. Ballard drops light anchor on a bench. No real story here. She describes what she sees and feels in a poetic way. Let's not be so judgemental about these characters. They are not Grace Paley. She is only describing what she sees and what she learns about the people around her.

Charlotte

Hey there. We've been to Cayuhoga Falls. My son lives in Columbia Station, just outside Cleveland. He took us there to show us the lovely falls right in the middle of town.

Charlotte

Hi Charlotte... are you sure it wasn't Chagrin Falls? My understanding is the falls near downtown Cuyahoga Falls were ruined by a dam or something back in the 20s. There's just a bit of a cascade now. We've only lived here since last winter; moved to be near family. But I've seen the falls in Chagrin Falls--they're lovely indeed.

Of course you are right Jeryn. My mistake

Charlotte

Charlotte: I think perhaps you and Claire have a real admiration for Grace Paley. Som of our other commentators seemed a little less than enthusiastic about her stories, although I believe we're all in agreement that she is a tremendous writer.

I've been rereading some of the earlier stories and will remark on them in a later posting. Hope everybody had a nice Holiday! Lorrie

The first page of the first story refers to a twenty seven year marriage. It caught my eye. I thought She's talking about ME. Then twenty seven came up again in another context and got my attention again. I identified and went on. She's a lot like me only she does a better job of it. I like this book because of its continuity. It's like journal writing, not quite a novel but not really a group of short stories either. These are all related to each other.

The writing reminds me a little of Ann Lamott's BIRD BY BIRD, which is not fiction but meant to be an instructual tool on writing and is actually a group of autobiographical stories about her and her son SAM.

The intimate tone of these tales and others currently seen in womens' literature keeps cropping up. Maybe someday there will be a name for it. The story about her best friend Ellen with its shocking "Faithy, I'm I'm dying" at the beginning and "she died" at the very end is powerful and moving. I really like her STUFF.

Claire

Claire, I love your enthusiasm, I felt the same way, I'm so glad you joined us, but what of the later stories? Am holding my breath to see what you think.

Ginny

It's still fresh in my mind. I have some thoughts on it but expect to have more. The runner is running HOME...at least she thinks she'll just have a look, but ends up living there with a family of a different race and culture until they ask her to leave. Nope, that's not HOME anymore. so she runs back to what has been her home and finds that all is going on just fine without her. She's not needed. They hardly knew she was gone either. Can this be HOME?..No I would say that you can run and run but "you can't go home again" once you have left.

Home is where you have a place, things to do, people to serve. . . and there was no place like that left in her life. Perhaps if she ran a VERY long distance?

Claire

WOW, Clarie! WOW~! I didn't see the leaving home part, I wonder sometimes if we are influenced when we read a book by our circumastances OUTSIDE the book? I'm going to read that story again!

Right now!

Great insights!

Ginny

What a great writer this woman is! As a would-be writer myself, I envy her ability to present each story as a poetic compression, a series of vignettes that are dense with life.

I know many of you readers are turned off by some of her characterizations, but let’s remember, like Charlotte says, these are actually creatures of her imagination, based on some of the neighbors she knew so well.We may not like the people she writes about, but let’s accept them, warts and all, and yet nothing can mar the delight we feel at one of Paley’s well-turned phrases.

Some of us have a favorite in this collection. It will probably surprise you all, but I really liked “The Little Girl.” It was brutal, yes, and perhaps repugnant to some, but the author here manages to paint a vivid picture of the low-life characters who exist in her particular neighborhood. I liked the ending of the story where the landlord actually convinced himself that little Juniper, fourteen years old, had thrown herself down the airshaft.

The vernacular is perfect. Paley’s ear for ethnic conversation is unmatched. I truly admire this writer. Lorrie

ALF sent me the book, which arrived today. In between everything else, I managed to look at it. WANTS does not impress me. First of all, I do not like this style of writing. It seems to me Paley uses a style in the first two stories which is contrived to be plain, written in a self-centered and indulgent stream of consciousness way. The theme of WANTS is old, and I've seen it better written. If Paley wants to use a story-telling style effectively, then she might better read these two pieces aloud and record them.

DISTANCE, on the other hand, held my attention. It is a carefully written portrayal of a woman whose early experience "mashing the grass of Central Park", admittedly at her own instigation, affected her attitude toward her husband and son and the women in their lives. The author very cleverly brings in the environment in which her character has lived her life, thus enhancing her own attitudes and prejudgments. The last paragraph sums it up very well, especially these two sentences:

"How come the French priest said to me, crying tears and against his order, 'Oh, no, Dolly, if you are enceinte (meaning pregnant) he will certainly marry you, poor child, now smile, poor child, for that is the Church's promise to infants born.' To which, how come, tough and cheery as I used to be, all I could say before going off to live and die was: 'No, Father, he doesn't love me.' "

Mal

Claire:

I read this marvelous book. It still sits here on my shelf.

Charlotte

Mal, my friend, glad to see you here, though I don't agree with you. I think Paley's stories are like monologues. They should be read aloud in order to get the feeling of the language. She is not great on plots, but excellent on language. Her ear for how people talk is spectacular.

Love,

Charlotte

You don't agree about what, Charlotte? I said that Grace Paley might better read and record what she wrote. That is not dissimilar to what you said.

First of all, I should mention that as a person I do not read to identify with what the writer says or with characters he or she has created. When I read as an editor or critiquer, it is with an objective and probably somewhat dispassionate eye. The term, "poetic compression", is a popular catchword phrase among critics and reviewers of books and poetry today. For this reason, no one will catch me thinking it or using it to describe a work or an author. I have read and re-read FAITH in the Afternoon. These are my thoughts about this story.

Paley has created a patchwork here of fairly ordinary people, some of whose patterns stand out more than others. I don't feel that the story is about Faith. It is a collage of people, whom I think I might understand better if I was Jewish with the rich background that implies. Faith is more or less catalogued when Paley says, "Faith really is American and she was raised up.....to the true assumption of happiness" as opposed to those older not born in the United States, who were not. Hegel-Shtein portrays a fairly classical device, that of doomsayer or even fate with a capital F. She is one of the stronger patterns of the patchwork. Faith's father, a philosopher of sorts, is another.

Once again Paley uses environment and casual glimpses of a neighborhood to augment her characters. She is a non-hero writer, who has not thus far entangled me in her ideas with a character I can like or dislike. She is writing observations. To appreciate them, one must adopt her point of view when one reads, regardless what voice she uses. It is not just Hegel-Shtein who has a "bitter crippled life" in this work. This perhaps is Grace Paley's view of most of the characters she creates, who may perhaps be based on people she has known. Because of her style, I cannot say yet whether I like or dislike her writing or what she writes about, though she certainly is an adept writer.

I might add here that two people who are reading this book have said that Paley's style of writing has, or could influence the way they will from now on approach their own. My comment about those statements is that the last thing I would ever want is to be influenced by another writer, no matter how well known or touted.

More to come.
Mal

Wellll! I'm the guilty one who used the expression "poetic compression," Mal. Personally, I thought it sounded pretty good. haha Anyway, welcome, Mal. Your comments are both individual and blunt, and having "talked" with you before, I would expect no less. It will be interesting to note how you express your opinions on some of the other stories. Lorrie

You're not the only one here who used that expression, Lorrie. In fact, there's a quote by Angela Carter of the London Review of Books on back of the copy of the book ALF sent to me in which she talks about "poetic compression". What the heck does it mean, anyway? There's a well-known Israeli writer of stories and poetry who advertises himself by saying he's a poet of poetic compression. Like what, Elisha?

GLOOMY TUNE.
I found this piece both funny and tragic. Poor Yoyo. "He is bold and hopeless."

LIVING.
This might better be called Dying. Ellen's son, Billy, says of his dead mother, "She's not anything of anything, Faith." The boy stops crying long enough to show he's a realist.

Of the two stories, I preferred Gloomy Tune, subtitled in my mind, "Singin' the Blues."

Mal

about style etc. I only read for pleasure and have about three books going right now and have just fished another out of the bag of books my DIL just brought on thanksgiving. Theyare all different but we both like suspense, horrer and mystery all separate genrues (sp) but fast paced. The Dean Koontz one lasted a single day..a very fast read and now to my more educated ear not very well written. On the other hand Jonathan Kellermans "Over the Edge" also a fast read IS well written so this catagory still has it's good writers.

I'm reading the Absalom selection for the book club and going back to reread now that I've been exposed to other peoles contributions and finding it interesting to do that. I liked this book (ENORMOUS CHANGES)as a cetain kind of book...not self indulgent at all but full of insights and acceptance of many different kinds of people and the lives they are living. I smiled at the parents who had retired themselves to the HOME and the dynamics between not only them but the others. The lady in the wheelchair -- Hegel-Shtein was using that statement )about being cripples) which sounded like self pity as an ironic clarion call to her cause. . . or at least that's how I understood it.

New York is very foreign to me, but I feel as if I've had a tour of each of the populations living there...that is except the very well to do ones. I'm not through with the book yet....more to come. Last night I was finishing the Koontz book and watching THE X FILES all at the same time. couldn't bear to choose. . . what a cluttered life. All of it is like that. It may take me a while to finish anything which isn't a "fast read" because of it. The writing reminds me of the better parts of my journal, when I'm writing about others. I still have 1981 tho1983. I was going to put it on the computer and see what I had there. I started a couple ofmonths ago, but have been busy reading..probably a good thing.

Claire

FAITH IN A TREE.
Talk about cluttered, and yet this piece said a good deal about people I will never meet or know. It reminded me of a Breughel painting. Time must be taken to examine each person painted by the author and the relationships they had just as those in a painting by the above mentioned artist. Wonder if it had the same effect on you?

Mal

Mal. I liked that one very much especially that she was "in a tree" somehow the observant child. The well dressed woman on the bench left me really wondering. . . a cold b*tch was the interpretation I got....she never picked up and comforted someone elses kid etc. The overall tone showed much disapproval of these characters and yet a kind of affection too. A really nice piece and what an idea for an exercise...character study in a public place. But why the tree????

Claire

Did anyone ever figure out that Zio means uncle in Italian?

She's the omniscient observer in a tree to view all the world from a lofty perspective. That's the immediate impression I received, Claire.

Mal

THE BURDENED MAN. These comments are short because I am so far behind all of you. I have read nearly all the posts and sometimes feel as if I'm out in left field and talking to myself, but anyway...The Burdened Man appears to me to be a victim of circumstance like Yoyo. In fact, the more I read of this book, the more I think Grace Paley writes about a kind of fatalism that denies much, if any, hope. What was it she said about Yoyo? Bold and hopeless?

POLITICS amused me. The singing mother protesters get their fence which is quickly desecrated by a white-gloved cop. "A police force stripped of its power and shorn by vengeful politicians of the respect due it from the citizenry will arm itself as best it can." Then he whips out a copy of Camus's The Rebel as I.D. Frankly, I thought this was very, very funny.

A question: If Paley first published this book in 1960, how much of it applies today, and would she still take the stands she took at that time?

This is by far the most impressive story of Paley's that I've read in this book. The Little Girl is a powerful display of writing, and the first that brought a response of admiration for this author from me. Admittedly, the subject matter is harsh and hard, but the objectivity and honesty Paley exhibits here is worth much praise and applause.

More tomorrow.
Mal

My post was cut off in the middle and disappeared. I'll try again. Your comments are brilliant and incisive. A valuable and perceptive contribution to our discussion. I don't know how you do all you do. When do you sleep?

One point of disagreement--Writers have learned from each other since the onset of literacy. I no longer get very much from reading just for pleasure. For me a far greater satisfaction comes from studying and digging my teeth into the material.

I do not think Paley is a really great writer. She is not very good on plots, but her use of language and her ear for dialect is fabulous. Perhaps I identify more with her bitter sense of humor because of my own past experience. I think it shows in my stories.

Charlotte

Charlotte, I go to bed at midnight or 1 a.m., fall asleep an hour later probably, get up at 7 or 8 and pick up a couple of hours sleep in the afternoon. For me that is enough.

Of course, writers are influenced by other writers, but after a lifetime of reading, I am now writing. I have written all my life, but at this time I try to write 2000 words a day in a motivated, serious way. That writing, often a satiric look at life and people in the shape of farce, is formed. The foundation is laid. I do not want to be influenced by other writers any more, and outside this discussion I am very selective about what I read. I pay close attention to critiques and reviews, instead.

First class writing like first class anything is rare. Offhand I'd say the greatest influence on me was Shakespeare, who knew very well that all the world is a stage and that the line between tragedy and comedy is very, very thin. As an editor I am constantly reading new material. As an electronic publisher I do searches all the time which lead me to literature I often take the time to read. I read as a writer and editor and realize I have done this all of my adult life.

Now I want to go back to Paley's book. I had some ideas as I was waiting for sleep to come last night and will make a summation of my impressions soon, I believe.

Mal

I am delighted that you have received and critiqued GP's book. Your observations of each story are welcomed. I can not be persuaded, I fear, to agree, but your assessments are stimulating. I am so pleased that you were able to enjoy the read.

Charlotte: As usual, your comments are also well taken. Like Mal, you express yourself with certainty, genuine love for "the written word" and absorbing insights.

In this story Faith runs away to the present of her past. I believe that by doing this, whether literally or figuratively, she confronted herself. She had been something of an idealistic rebel, not unlike Grace Paley, but when opening her eyes to those whom she tried to help and for whose causes she fought, it appears that she realizes she simply didn't understand what those causes were or exactly who these people she wanted to help are. In this story, Paley goes beyond the hip attitude and style which I disliked in the first story to a clearer view of reality.

Paley clued the reader into this enlightenment in NORTHEAST PLAYGROUND. To quote:

"Then I stated: In a way it was like this when my children were little babies. The ladies who once wore I like Ike buttons sat on the south side of the sandbox, and the rest of us who were revisionist Communist and revisionist Zionist registered Democrats sat on the north side.

"In response to my statement, NO KIDDING! most of them said.

"Beat it, said Janice."

In other words, before you make your judgments and take up your cause, put on this shoe with all the hardware on it and the orthotic appliance to which it is attached and walk the same miles through life that I have.

In my opinion, Grace Paley is a good, not great, author whose work no doubt appeals to a certain audience. I do not include myself among that number.

Mal

Isn't this just splendid, tho, as we come right down to the wire, tomorrow being our last day on this book, to hear all these different voices and perspectives? I love it, thanks to you all for making this one of our most interesting DISCUSSIONS!

The important thing here about us is that we enjoy chatting over a book and its points and we all learn something, either from the book (hopefully) or the people posting (always) and that makes it a totally worthwhile experience.

I can't find, for some reason, my copy, and so have to go on memory alone (always kind of frightening) but I'm going to make a few value judgments and conclusions of my own, which, of course, may totally disagree with everybody elses, but HEY! That's what we're here for.

First off, MY favorite story in this book is WANTS the very first story, what is YOURS? I like "Wants" for the brevity of expression which says so much, to me at least. I found the rest of the stories especially as they got towards the end of the book, uneven and unpleasant, despite the recurring Faith stories. While I do appreciate the author's Faith Hope Charity analogy I never could relate to Faith and thus had a hard time with the remaining stories. Also I came to them in sort of a let down period, apres Chicago and probably wouldn't have enjoyed anything right then.

I don't see too much purpose in the arrangement of the stories, do you all? Do you see any preponderance of evidence for the title of the Book? I realize it's a story, why title the entire book like that?

Since we're concluding I'll say, having read the first story and the second I would hope for an entire book of same, I hear she has a new one out and will try it and see if she continued in what I thought was great promise or wrote in the later vein I see at the end.

I always, being a person of many words, admire somebody who can express so much in so little space, but even there she fell short, I believe at the end.

But I am very glad to have made her aquaintence and will look for another one hopefully. The ONE HAND CLAPPING is like a dip in a pond, so fun, I am enjoying it immensely.

Ginny

Throughout this whole discussion I've been impressed by the succinct comments made by some of you readers, and I admire each and every one of you for sharing your thoughts and opinions. I think Grace Paley was controversial from the beginning, and remains so, you either like her immensely or are disgusted by her. Some of her stories I found to be absolutely too incomprehensible for my pea brain, but through it all I never stopped marveling at her flair for dialect, or the brevity with which she could put many words. I think I liked "The Little Girl" best because of the raw truth in that story, and the unflinching way she told it. Charlotte, Mal, Claire, Alf, you've all been faithful correspondents, and of course Ginny is the cement that binds us all together. Lorrie

When I was a child my mother said she could always tell whom I d just been with because I'd pick up their way of speaking and for a while that' would affect my normal use of language. Some of it stuck. To this day I can identify where I got some of my favorite "sayings"

I come away from reading this book with my self talk in Paleyese. I'm talking to myself in faithisms. Isn't that strange? I wonder what it means. What does it say about her style of writing.

Claire

I have not been faithful because I came in under the wire at the 11th hour.

Why is Grace Paley any more controversial than other writers unless we have not read this kind of thing before? She is writing premises that have been stated once and stated again since she wrote this particular set of stories. It seems to me that "Faithisms" are rather old hat. The kind of thing Paley writes about grew old at the beginning of the 70's. Or didn't it?

I'd like to see something that reflects now, the beginning of the 21st century. Are the fears and cautions any different now from what they were in the sixties, or are they an extension of the same ones Paley writes about? Evolution of human development and thinking is slow, but surely there must be a new and different point of view in current literature.

Mal

I'm not finished yet. Am still laboring in the garden of Enormous Changes. Will post after I write on Absalom Absalom and History a Novel. So what if it gets archived. I want to do the work.

Charlotte

Mal, from what I read in her biography, Grace Paley was extremely active in the feminist movement, was an ardent protester of the Vietnam war, anti-abortion zealots, and many other causes in which many others didn't agree. Hence, the description "controversial." However, whether you agreed with her political beliefs or not, the fact remains that she is one of a kind writer, at least in my estimation. Lorrie

Because both Lorrie and Charlotte have poems in this issue of the m.e.stubbs poetry journal, I am taking the liberty of posting this announcement here.

The third issue of the m.e.stubbs poetry journal is on the web. In it you'll find poems by Janet Hubbs, Charlotte Snitzer, Vivienne Ledlie, Margaret Rigsby, Idris O'Neill, Ellen Cooke, Pat Hyne, Jenny Decaillet, Lorrie Gorg, Jack Poole, John Horvath, James Fowler, John T. Baker, Ward Kelley, Elisha Porat, Dr. James J. Caron, David Oberlander, James Olson and Yona Alon. It is a beautiful issue filled with poetry of all kinds. I know you will enjoy it.

I'm on borrowed time here, as my ISP gets turned off as of today. Even though I zoomed through this book and left only a few comments of praise for Paley's voice, I have kept up with others' posts while packing. Someone wrote of her fatalism with which I instantly agreed, but with some mulling over, I wonder if it isn't a foundation of compassion that informs her relentless, unflinching descriptions of life. Maybe it's a glimpse of our/her discomfort (disdain?) for some (portions of life), which of course would feel uncomfortable, and in this pausing to look, finding something of ourselves in the observer or in the observed.

Claire, you made me laugh with your reference to the cluttered life. I have many moments with tv on without sound, music to my left, computer on to my right and a book in my lap. This must be a phase, because I've often complained before that I can't focus on more than one stimulus.

Mal, your wondering if sometimes you're just talking to yourself when you post----THAT, that thing of wondering if others connect/hear/agree/disagree/understand something we've written in a post has got to the single most universal feeling expressed over and over in these folders (and in private emails). I keep thinking I'll get used to this format where several may appreciate something I've written but only one has a response---or there are no responses, but it remains a challenge for me. If we were sitting around a table, there would be nodding heads or other body language to communicate that people are listening. Here, it's still a little artificial to--three days later--get a response from someone.

I've said more on this subject of responding now because this book's discussion seems quite remarkable to me in several respects. There seems to be higher than usual responding to each other, and remarkably, often with honest disagreements. In other book discussions, disagreements have often cooled the process and participation has dropped off. Not so here. Oh, it has made reading the posts SO interesting to see such different perspectives. I don't know the answer to what it is about the culture of this discussion that has made it safer to hang in with various responses to the author. But whatever it is, I hope it happens in other discussions.

Well said, Betty, we're going to miss your voice, I hope it won't take you long to get set back up, moving is so traumatic!

Had to laugh about the responses, I was thinking yesterday that on occasion, and it's only on occasion, I actually do come out with something I personally thought was brilliant, and I really enjoy, and you have no idea how much I enjoy having somebody say much later: much, much later, even almost a month later, "who was it that said, ........" and going on to make a point about it. In that I think I have added to the collective voice about whatever it was and even though nobody noticed it at the moment it did make a contribution, I like that so much.

Not sure what that was worth but it's what I was thinking here on our last day of discussion, if you're still reading along we'll keep this one open and right here till you have finished all comments!

Thank you for that, Mal, very exciting to see so many familiar and not so familiar names being published!

Ginny

I'm not reading this book in order, but in response to the posts I see here. I can't remember the titles to each story because the whole thing flows together for me, but I do remember some of you liked THE LITTLE GIRL ad will go back and find it soon. I finished another quick read in one day action piece by Jim Crumbly..lots a violence and bad words but fascinating and am now back with my faulkner material, so this has taken a pause. I would like it to remain open. will probably have more to contribute. It's a really good group here and I'm enjoying reading the posts.

Claire

I've been reading poetry. John Bakers links aren't turned on, and one of Jim Fowler's ..the flat sun one creates an error when using the NEXT link.

I haven't been through them all yet. Charlotte I love HURRICANES.

And Mal, where is my one on the sweat suit or are you waiting to astound future generations?

Claire

Claire, I recall telling you that your poem will go in issue 4 of the m.e.stubbs poetry journal which will go on the web in March. Because it is a Spring poem, it is more suited for the three months of March, April and May when the fourth issue will be on the web. The Fowler and Baker links work fine on my version of Netscape and MSIE 5.0, by the way.

My sick son was here with me from Florida for a week, and I've been slightly more busy than usual, so I'll use that as excuse for glitches in my publications.

Mal

Mal: Thanks for the web-site info (m.e.Stubbs) I will get back to you later on. Keep reading, my friend.

Betty and Ginny: You hit the nail right on the head with your comments on these postings. I think that we all feel comfortable enough to relate our thoughts, to one another, with heart and soul. As a newcomer to the group (2nd time in) I came with a great deal of reluctance to share my thoughts, as I have a tendency for "gut reactions" and have often been accused of "shooting from the hip." I do however appreciate ideas that differ from mine and consider the flip side of the coin, if presented well. EACH ONE of you has surely done that!! We all have seperate opinions, convictions and insights. You have presented your own in such a orderly, practical, and concise manner, that I have often been persuaded to agree with you.

That is what makes this so enjoyable. Thank you all for allowing me to express my views. (Even tho, few agreed.)

In Paragraph 2 of your post,you have adopted WF's style. Brilliant!!! I think your response on reaction to what we've said, says it for all of us.

Please keep this folder open. I have much to do yet. Also there are others who got the book late.

Much love,

Charlotte

Perhaps it's the state of mind I'm in after my son's visit, but I was really touched when you called me your friend.

Mal

I usually enjoy them when they are science fiction, but this one was too close to REAL. However I think It was written with the intention of creating a horror response and it did that. . . also a social statement, and it did that...and was a super well done job . . . and it did that. Did I LIKE it? not much.

Claire

YOu all keep saying that these stories lack plot. Her father thought so too. I'm confused. what is plot then.

Little snippets of life or classic boy meets girl, they overcome many problems to eventually fall in love, get married get divorced with interesting complications. Is that a plot? No more than these small happenings with their ironic twists. They're just smaller and very insightful and original.

Claire

Claire : A plot, (in my summation) is a plan, a scheme, a design to intrigue readers. GP's stories are a draft, an outline, less than tantalizing or titillating...

Mal: How sweet of you to say that. You are my friend.!! A new-found one perhaps, thru our reading pleasures, but none the less -- a friend.. Don't we all now share a familiar bind? yes? It makes us soul-mates, doesn't it, sharing a rapport in harmony and fellowship, together? My dad used to say, IF we could just make ONE little bit of difference , daily ,in someone's life, we will have lived a fullfilling day. I try to be ever mindful of that, as difficult as it is, (for us mere mortals.) This reading group is a wonderful vehicle for that.

Claire, to me, the plot is the story line, if there's a story there's a plot? I'm not having a plot problem with this one.

Andrea, what a beautiful sentiment may I use parts of it for the Quote of the Week?

Charlotte, you dear person! What a boost to read your note and I had no idea but will take full credit, thank you so much!!

What a nice group and satisfying discussion THIS has been! It will remain open till there's a call to close it.

Ginny

I always think of the sonata form in music when I begin to write a story or a novel. I am not talking about a complete three or four movement sonata here, but the style of composing which is called the sonata form. In music, the A, B and C themes are stated in the first part of a sonata form movement. The middle is the development and embellishing of these themes in different keys from the tonic in which the movement began. The last section is the recapitulation of the themes in the original tonic key to the ending or finale. In writing, a plot and subplots are stated in the beginning of a story or novel, the middle is the conflict or development of the earlier plots. The third section is the resolution of the conflict to the finale.

The stories presented in Enormous Changes at the Last Minute by Grace Paley are vignettes or character studies. Plot is implied but not stated. I do not consider these to be outlines for stories, since they are complete in themselves. Many authors use this method, some well and some not. In my opinion, Paley achieves her aim in most of these pieces.

Mal

Great description on sonata form and plot. I printed it out to save.

Charlotte

The man who wants to have enough money to last him for the rest of his life, has another side. When he begins to have coffee at the neighbor's house, he actually spends some money and brings home a shortcake for his wife and son. Obviously he has guilt feelings.

We get into his mind and we learn of the various ways he plans his sexual adventure. He picks some flowers and arranges them in a ball. He is becoming more human to us.

Paley injects a little humor when his chin gets caught in the V neck of her housedress and he wonders how he will breathe. He doesn't breathe very long, since he gets shot. And the cop gets away with it as sometimes happens with cops.

Charlotte

"a plan of action of a play novel poem or short story." This sounds like an outline to me..I think it might be followed by a "developement" and I think Paley has done both.

Claire

I finally finished the book in my shotgun fashion. It's uncomfortable isn't it, full of unhappy endings and shocking grief expressed so succinctly that for a moment I don't realize what has happened. It's probably a catharsis for our author too. I wonder if her other writings are like this. I returned it to the library today -- no masochist, here.

Claire

Yeah Claire, but that's life. Paley tells it like it is.

Charlotte

Claire: I agree with the "outline" theme - see post #208.

Mal: What a wonderful description of words flowing in a sonata form. I never knew about that, as much as I compare music to writing, one would think that I would have come across that. I love your authors knowledge that so many of you share with us.

Charlotte: The Burdened Man (see post # 107) was the only story that I was amused by.

I will be leaving for COLD, frigid NY State on Monday to spend the "Holly- Daze" with my children and grand-children. I want to take this chance to wish you ALL a wonderful, blessed Christmas, filled with all the joys that you can hold. May you all be filled with peace and love ...

I will be lurking on my daughters computer- so keep up the good work.

Fondly, Andrea

Hopeful news: It has not been cold and frigid here yet. Some of our kids are coming from Berkeley and Cleveland from the 20th at least to the 28th and possibly beyond. We'll actually have seven people staying in our house. Hope we can survive our usually solitary existence. Luckily, everyone reads. We do much reading and relaxed talking, but kids between 9 and 12 do make noise.

Charlotte

Charlotte - Watch for a surprise that Barbara St. Aubrey has in store, with some kids in the house, you'll be ready!!

Charlotte: thanks for the weather report. I am a bit hesitant re. our return flight, which takes us out of Albany, into JFK, into LaGuardia and on into /Tampa. Oh boy!! I would love snow for Christmas eve, with the little ones, then, I would prefer 60 degree weather. Would you take care of that order for me, please, before I arrive? My daughter has a huge, ole Victorian home in Saratoga, so there will be lots of room for me to "hide" and read.

Charlie: I am intrigued with what Barbara has in store. Can you give us a hint?

Suddenly I am interested in reading more short stories. Usually I read novels because I enjoyed getting lost in the lives of the characters. But now I am writing short stories and am interested in how they are constructed.

When you go to a library or book store, there seems to be no separate section for short stories. They are classified with other works by the same author.

I think the key to study is concentrating on the work of each author. I have been collecting the Pushcart Press series. They are excellent, but they feature only one story by each writer.

Does anyone know of really good collections written in the poetic style of Louise Erdrich, Toni Morrison, etc?

Charlotte

No, Charlotte, but you do raise a good point. This was our first exploration into the short story genre and I enjoyed it very much! Perhaps we can do it again. One author who is quite good is Elizabeth Spenser, whose book LIGHT IN THE PIAZZA AND OTHER ITALIAN TALES is quite good, she's very accomplished, I think.

Evan Hunter has produced some fine works, too, perhaps we can revisit the short story form in 2000, as part of our Master Reading Plan.

Ginny

NOVEMBER is our Short Story Month. See you then!

Charlotte me too. Now that I'm trying to write them they are more interesting to me. It just occured to me that my childhood friend Albert Payson Terhune has written many short stories mostly about his dogs. That might be considered biography?. Start with Lad a dog and go on thru further adventures of Lad and Bruce and Treve. They read like short stories but maybe they're not really. Powell Books has a lot of them...The original books are collectors items now at about twenty bucks, but there are others.

Claire the collie freak...That's where it began.....:}

One of my favorite books was SUNNYBANK, HOME OF LAD, I think about it quite a bit. It was about Terhune's home and the Ramapo Mountain people of New Jersey?!? and how difficult he found it to keep unwanted visitors off his property. If he put up a sign the only people who obeyed it were the people he wanted to see and everybody else brought a picnic and had at it. Have been looking for it in the barn for years as I'm not able to find a copy on bibliofind. Does anybody know where I could get one, it's not a big book.

Charlie, of course, NOVEMBER!! What fun!

Ginny

Claire: Unfortunately I am not a dog person. My mother never let us have a dog and my husband never let the kids have them. He was afraid they would end up being his responsibility, since he is a neato. We have an unusual kind of marriage--I'm the slob. We had all kinds of animals, but the kind that could be kept in cages.

Now all our kids have dogs and several cats. They are making up for what they missed. If I'm ever a lonely old lady, I would probably get a cat to talk to.

Charlotte

was talking to walls and electronic impulses in outer space until LADY came into my life last January. She's more rewarding but has only body language. She also has a very messy habit of peeing and pooping in my yard and dropping hair all over the place, waking me up in the middle of the night to go out if she hasn't finished etc. etc It's like caring for a small child, but WORTH IT :}

Claire

Title Story - Enormous Changes at the Last Minute 12/10/99

Who would deny this story is optimistic when Paley says at the end that Dennis’ song was “responsible for a statistical increase in visitors to old-age homes by the apprehensive middle-aged and the astonished young?” What she is saying is that there is a lot of wisdom left in those old geezers, yet.

The tale probably takes place in the late seventies or early eighties when many Phds. couldn’t get jobs and had to resort to driving cabs in order to make a living. Dennis, a self-described revolutionary (he is younger than Alexandra ) has college-hopped from one school to another.

Each realizes that the other is different from the rest of the run-of-the-mill denizens of the city, because they have some brains. Alexandra is on the way to visit her near-senile father, which makes her wonder what is the life expectancy of the brain.

After a white space separation in the text, the father supplies the answer “80 years.” He is an intellectual on his way downhill, but Paley says he continues to amass information. He is now “in the cave of old age” and is “sick with oldness,” she says without alligator tears of emotion.

In the next bed is John who is scared out of his wits by his own bigotry, has a strong heart and does not want to die. Alexandra tells him “upset yourself with reality for once.” which I think is a good comment in response to John’s inanities.

More white space and Dennis arrives at Alexandra’s apartment. They learn that their thinking is sympatico and since it is a holiday weekend, he asks if he can stay for a few days. In the morning “she became interested in reality again, which she had always liked.” He tells her he is a poet and asks her “Do you know every black man walking down the street today is a poet?” (They may well be with all that rap music going on.)

After he sings to her, he relates a short essay during which we get the title of the story. He says that the kids, the kids are the ones are going to bring about “enormous changes at the last minute.” Aren’t they the ones who are always going to change the world? But Alexandra “looks straight ahead over the hot rod of love to solitary age and lonesome death.”

When she talks about death with her father, he says when you get near death you accept it. Her face gets a “bit rumpled.” What a wonderful way to express her nearness to tears. John, his roommate represents the unphilosophical majority. He could never be like Alexandra’s father.

I don’t want to repeat the whole story here, but Dennis is one smart poet-cab driver. He knows a great deal about women and sex, comforts her about her aging body. They are both interested in language and he shows her how he can put a word like “ophidious” in a poem. She asks him how he knows so much about “wives? mothers?” He answers hilariously, “That’s my bag. I’m a motherfucker.”

Alexandra asks Dennis, “ don’t you think a woman in this life should have at least one child?” Then several weeks later, she asks her father, “What if I did have a baby?” He grabs his chest as if he were having a heart attack, calls for a nurse and orders her to get married. After that Alexandra hopes for her father’s death, “so she could have a child without ruining his interesting life at the very end of it when ruin is absolutely retroactive.”

Dennis says there are differences between her culture and his. He asks her to join his commune, but she says no,. she is pregnant and knows what she’s going to do. He says he’s splitting.

Alexandra invites three pregnant teenagers to live with her and learns much from them. On the baby’s third birthday, Dennis and his group produce an album called “For Our Son.” Obviously he still sees the baby as a product of the commune rather than from his own genes.

Mal would enjoy the description of the piccolo, drums, banjo and fiddle. The song becomes famous from Maine to Texas. She ends the story on the note with which I began this post. “It was responsible for a statistical increase in visitors to old-age homes by the apprehensive middle-aged and the astonished young.”

This is just the bare bones and can never be a substitute for reading the story. Certainly it is not about Seniornetters, but we should read it with understanding about this younger generation. Plotwise it is awkward, but it is full of bitter humor and acceptance for what has happened to that age group and the creative ways they must explore in order to find satisfactory lives for themselves

Thanks for bearing with me.

Charlotte

Charlotte, what an absolutely stunning summation and precis of this book! I wish I could say in all honesty that I have gotten as much out of reading it as you did, but I found it too perplexing at times, and I confess I often confused the author with the character she was writing about--a mistake. However, I must congratulate you on your post. Terrific! Lorrie

You're an angel! You made my day. I get much pleasure digging into the material and disappointed when others say they just want a quick read.

I feel unfulfilled when I am not using all my mental abilities. SN provides an excellent vehicle for doing just that. I was a volunteer book discussion leader for a women's organization for many years and am delighted that I can continue doing what I love doing most.

Charlotte

Charlotte, you would rather read and review books than write them?

Mal

some folks would rather publish than market!!! right? BTW I found another twenty year old effort, but it's highly personal. I'm not sure I want it to be on line. Sometimes we write for catharsis with little fictional twists. That's what this is. ttyl.

CHARLOTTE's mind blows me away. I sure there's more there wanting OUT. . . . you write very well too. I visited Sonata and STubbs where I keep track regularly. Keep up the good work. . . . let that good stuff OUT

Claire

That was an unnecessary dig. You have no way of knowing how many queries are out for my books right now or how many rejection slips I receive every day in the mail.

Thanks for visiting my little publications.

Marilyn

I think a reader will always read and that many writers read too. In fact, Stephen King is a good example of a writer who reads other writers extensively. I think most of them do.

I, too, wish Charlotte would write, would love to hear what she would say, love her posts.

I can truly say that reading gives me something, adds something to my life that nothing else does, I hope the day never comes when I don't read.

What a blessing these discussions are, just think of it, none of us would ever have met EVER had it not been for SeniorNet. Now we can chat with each other over ideas in a book any time of the day or night.

Ginny

soooorrrrrrryy it's just that having read snippets from those nine novels, I'm hungry for the rest. Have you considered self publishing? Or how about we all get together and publish Mal ourselves. She's one terrific writer.

Claire

Thanks for the boost, Claire.
Self-publishing is very, very expensive if it's done right. I did all the editing and pre-publication work on Late Harvest IV, the collection of writing by WREX writers. I saw the book evolve from emails the writers sent to me to the final soft cover book with a painting by Ann Cantor on the cover, and sent them all out to people who ordered them. For three hundred copies, the cost was very close to three thousand dollars. Heck, I don't even have three hundred.

At the moment I have an idea in the back of my mind about putting my books and those of others on CD's and selling them in the Sonata bookstore. Before I can do that, though, I have to buy a CD burner, and right now that's out of the question.

Mal

The reason I said what I did is that I am quite sure Charlotte always wanted to be a writer, so her post about reading and reviewing surprised me. Write, Charlotte, write.

By the way, two of Charlotte's stories and one of Claire's will be in the January-February issue of Sonata magazine for the arts. That issue will go on the web December 30th if all goes well.

Mal

Guess I really have to say something in here. Of course writing has been a life-long dream, but I'm lazy. I love good writing and would like to write like the greats, but what I do never comes up to my expectations. However, now that the cold weather is coming on maybe I'll do more writing as well as discussion.

As soon as I get off the computer, Milt comes on. This PC is on most of the day.

However, you're a great support group. I hope I can come up to your expectations.

Luv ya all,

Charlotte

Please don't end this discussion yet. I have at least two more stories I want to cover, but am busy with Faulkner.

Charlotte

That's fine, Charlotte, it can stay up as long as we want, I'm glad you are enjoying ALL the things we have here on offer!

Ginny

A Christmas card for you from me!

delightful -- thankyou and cheers to you too. Love, Claire

MAL!!!!!!! Will you post that in the Library!!???!!! I have never seen the like!

Thank you so much,

Ginny

Did anybody get my messages I posted two nights ago???

A Conversation With My Father -12/22/99

Hi everyone: The California contingent of the family has arrived and is sleeping in, so maybe I’ll have time to write.

I love this story because it’s about how Paley thinks and writes. I am beginning to identify with her and it reflects in my own writing. What she writes about mostly, is the ‘60s generation, the culture in NYC and the young people who come here with great hopes for success and what the effects of society bore on their personal lives.

It is also about the tragic split that occurred between young people and their elders during that era. Parents and academics often turned virulent about what they considered the revolutionary ideas of the young. I can remember a dinner party I attended then, when most of the people present were supervisory personnel in the NYC school system. The kids, both at home and at work, were so involved in the new culture, that the elders were traumatized by hatred for the young.

My older daughter and I began college together in ‘64. I was excited that the ideas I and others had promulgated in the early forties were accepted and expanded by the blue denim generation. We were lucky that our kids did not indulge in liquor drugs, or promiscuity.. I was a student along with them . We were able to exchange discussion and understanding. So that’s where I’m coming from. Now to the story:

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The father of the narrator is an educated man who doesn’t understand her stories. He still has a good brain, but his body is weakening. He asks her to write a simple story like those written by Chekov or de Mauppasant. She has never liked a plot line which carries a character straight from one point to another, because she feels that everyone “real or invented deserves an open destiny of life.”

She can only write about what she knows from the point of view of her own generation. She asks him what he thinks of the story about the woman whose son was a junkie. In order to maintain her relationship with him, she becomes a junkie too. He leaves the city in disgust and she is hopeless and alone. The concluding line is without hand wringing or sentimentality. “We all visit her,” she says. It is a plain, succinct expression for the sense of community that these people feel for each other.

The father says, “You misunderstood me on purpose.” * * * “Turgenev wouldn’t do that. Chekov wouldn’t do that.” He says he objects not to facts but to people sitting in trees, talking senselessly. (A reference to her previous stories.) He wants to know what the character looks like, where she comes from, what her parents were like. When he asks if the boy was born out of wedlock and she admits it, he says “doesn’t anyone in your stories get married? Don’t they have time to run down to City Hall before they jump into bed?” A lovely line from this crusty old codger.

For her generation “Married or not, it’s of small consequence.” He disagrees and says she may have been good looking, but she was not smart. The daughter agrees and says that’s the trouble with stories. At the beginning the characters are extraordinary, but as the work goes along she finds that they are just average with good educations. Or else they are dumb innocents who outwit you so that you can’t think of a good ending.

What do you do then, he asks? Well you just have to let the story lie around until an agreement can be reached between you and the hero.

He is not satisfied. He is bedridden, but he retains his sense of humor. “Start again,” he says. “I’m not going out this evening.” She tells the story of another junkie, who had brilliant prospects for the future. His mother was concerned about guilt feelings, “because guilt is the stony heart of all clinically diagnosed cancer today.” She became a junkie too and her kitchen became famous for intellectual addicts “who knew what they were doing.” A few were like Coleridge and some were like the LSD exponent Timothy Leary. She tried to continue to be a good mother and kept healthy foods in the house. When her neighbors asked what was going on, she said it was an honor to be part of the youth culture than involved in the attitudes of her own generation. (I can understand that from what I saw of the behavior of many adults at that time.)

When she discovers a young man at an Art film, she brings him home and begins to teach him concern for his own body. (She had probably read Theodore Roszak’s “Greening of America” which perhaps originated the idea of not trusting anyone over thirty.)

He sings songs about the body and “to the mouth of his head” brings wheat germ, soy beans and other healthy foods. He tries to convince the mother to “go on to the natch” also. He was so convincing that the neighborhood kids insisted that he had never been a real addict, but was a journalist in pursuit of a story. She tries several times, to kick the habit, but is unsuccessful. So the boy and his girlfriend “moved to another borough.” The people in the community tried to console her, but if they mention their own children who were at college, in the hospital or dropouts sitting at home, she bursts into “face scarring, time consuming tears.”

The old codger still sticks to his guns. You have a good sense of humor, he says, but you’re wasting your time telling stories. Then he asks if this woman was left alone. The narrator admits this. Then he says, “Poor girl to be born in a time of fools , to live among fools.” He says it is a tragedy. “ The end of a person.”

His daughter says the woman is still young, she can do any number of things. “An ex-junkie. Sometimes it’s better than having a master’s in education.” The father is adamant. He is upset, feels there is no hope for the character in the story, takes two nitros and tells her to turn up the dial on the oxygen tank.

But she can’t leave it at that. The woman is her invention and she is not going to leave her crying in her house. She tells him that the woman has a job where she is much valued. But the father insists that the woman has no character and that she will slide back. The daughter is still optimistic as a representative of her generation and the father is still hunkered down in the conservatism of his own.

Stories about junkies, aside. It is a typical story of the split between the generations during the sixties. I thoroughly enjoyed my study because of what it tells about how Paley writes. She speaks plainly, has a wonderful sense of humor and an impressive, original use of language. I am looking forward to the last story “The Long Distance Runner,” which will complete my study of this writer.

Charlotte .

It's 2:37 EST and no one has come here since my last post. I'd just like to say how much I like this picture. It's got to be an Edward Hopper. If it's not, it's by someone who is very familiar with his work. I love the greens and blues which are emblematic of a railroad train and the girl intent on her book. From the hat she's wearing,it suggests that the era is the forties, since we stopped wearing hats soon after that. She could be one of us.

Charlotte

Charlotte, I've been by and read your well-done synopsis. The painting does look like a Hopper, but I've been unable to find it in the collections of Hopper's work I know on the web. Maybe Ginny will tell us where it is located and whether Hopper painted it. It certainly is similar to one he did of a woman seated on a train which is called "Chair Car".

Mal

Chair Car by Edward Hopper

Mal I love his CHAIRCAR. Thanks for the site. I saved it. I think he's more apt to put smaller people and more of them in his environments. The lighting in chair car is wonderful. I followed all the links on that site . grrrreat.

Claire

Mal what a lovely gift of nostalgia for Christmas morning! I went to this site and saw the way the Chinese restaurants used to be then--plain rooms, to which my parents took us for chow mein once a year to celebrate their wedding anniversary. Nothing like the restaurants of today and that was the only time of year we ate out.

The house on the shore was almost an exact replica of the spectacular week I spent in Provincetown at the age of eight. And I remember the gas pumps on the way there through Buzzards Bay.

Love and thanks,

Charlotte

Merry Christmas, everybody! Have a happy holiday!

The painting at the top of the page is Compartment C, Car 293 by Edward Hopper. It's on the cover of the book I have, and inside I found this information.

Have a lovely day today!
Mal

Way to go, Mal! Sorry I'm so late getting in here, it surely is Hopper, was very excited while in Chicago to see another Hopper, I like him very much! I knew you all would see it, good work, Charlotte, Mal and Claire.

Actually there is another artist now painting whose work reminds me of Hopper and later today I hope to scan in here my latest acquisition, (I don't collect modern art, but I sure did like this one) to see what you all think, I'll get your opinions first before asking anybody else since you all are so knowledgable on art and you like Hopper, I can't wait. And you needn't be shy, I thought enough of it to buy it and so I won't change my opinion, but I do want to share it with you.

Great post, Charlotte, as usual you capture the crux of the story very carefully. I've enjoyed this discussion and really look forward to our next one, all our discussions are different and all of them seem to suit the book we read, I like that, too.

Ginny

Great Work Mal. Your knowledge is encyclopedic. I sort of knew it was a Hopper, but didn't want to say so for sure.

Hope you are having a great Christmas. We are having our ups and downs with 7 extra people in the house this week.

Love,

Charlotte

I don't know about my knowledge, Charlotte, but my curiosity knows no bounds.

Mal

OK, here it is, for some reason it didn't scan as well as I had hoped, the snow doesn't look quite so lumpy in person and the waitress's left arm is not blurry, sometimes I worry about my scanner, if anything, it's very sharp, the pastel? It's also huge! It's called Headed Over the Pass and the artist is Deborah DeWit Marchant and the reason I can scan it in is that it's on notecards. If you are familiar with Bas Bleu, the booksellers, you know they have a line of her Reader's Note Cards, of which this is one.

Anyway, here goes: Headed Over the Pass

Here's the quote which was in the card, I like this, too, "Reading makes immigrants of us all-it takes us away from home, but more important, it finds homes for us everywhere."--Hazel Rochman

Ginny

Thank you! I absolutely loved the quote and have copied it for my '"treasured thoughts" book. Andrea

is very hopperesque. I like it too.

Claire

Claire, I see Hopper too and mentioned that to the artist, thanks! It's huge huge huge so it needs a good place to be, tho. I may have to carry it from room to room, speaks to me, anyway.

ALF: Isn't that great? We're getting up a great list of quotes to put in the heading on a rotating basis, if you have any, please note them!

I think we got a lot out of this discussion, and I'm glad I read Paley, it won't be the last one of hers I read.

Ginny

OK, would you say we have concluded this discussion and it is ready to be archived?

Ginny

Your picture is lovely. Very Hopperesque. Came through very well with the scanner. Sharp and clear.

No I am not finished with Paley. Have notes on The Long Distance Runner to post tomorrow. My 7 people have left, wanted to get home to be on the safe side of Y2K. Too tired tonight.

Charlotte

OK, open it stays! Isn't this nice?

Ginny

THE LONG DISTANCE RUNNER

Good morning everyone:

My seven children and grandchildren have all gone home to get ahead of Y2K. They were worried about problems in the air and on the roads. The California contingent is now safely at home and hoping to catch the Monarch butterfly migration. The family from Ohio left at 4:00 A.M. and we are waiting to hear of their safe arrival.

I am glad to get back to finishing up on Grace Paley. Despite the fact that many of you were could not identify with her characters. I found her language as well as her humor very impressive, even though I was turned off by some of the vulgarity.

I found this story to be a blend of fantasy and reality. The era is the sixties when black militancy was in its prime. Like Thomas Wolfe, I learned “You Can’t Go Home Again. “ I have never been able to return to the neighborhood in which I grew up, because the serious danger that then existed in the streets. Faith, however, does do this. She thinks of herself as a long distance runner, though as an athlete she is past her prime. She says like something out of a childhood dream, “I wanted to go far and fast, not as far as bicycles and trains, not as far as Tapei, etc.”

Instead of saying I ran in Conn. in the spring, she says “ I ran all spring in and out of dogwood bloom, then laurel.” What a lovely way to show that speed is not her primary concern. She wants to find time to “smell the flowers.” But she is amusingly aware of the reactions of others to her physical appearance, her fat thighs, etc. I wore an undershirt “with excellent support, not to attract the attention of old men and prudish children.”

She is so matter of fact: She kisses the kids good-bye, tells them it is time for them to take off, but arranges for her good friend Mrs. Rafferty whom she “liked, loved and endured,” to make sure the kids are well fed. She cannot easily get out of the mothering habit. They are certainly ready for a parting of the ways. “Okay, sure,” they say.

She takes the subway to Brighton Beach, which I know well, since having lived for a time in close proximity in Sheepshead Bay. She starts her run on the boardwalk and then trots into the old neighborhood where she grew up. Suddenly she is surrounded by what her fear sees as “ about three hundred blacks.” They are belligerent at first, which was acceptable peer reaction at that time. But she sees past this to the human beings they really are. In self defense she talks about flowers. (Remember the hippies who used to put flowers in the barrels of guns?) The group is impressed by the recital of accomplishments of the handsome, well-dressed youth. Then a girl scout offers to show Faith her former apartment.

The group continues to alternate between acceptance and distrust of Faith as an interloper on their turf. Even Cynthia, the girl scout, who has offered help is taken over by her fear of whitey. Faith escapes to her old apartment and is admitted by the present tenant who feels that she may be in danger. Of course the fact that she spends three weeks there is pure fantasy. She becomes part of the family, sees the tile on the bathroom floor she had broken as a child, the kitchen table exactly like the one she remembers, notices Mrs. Luddy’s efforts to beautify her home, “the way women have always done,” becomes enchanted by little Donald who has had to become the man of the house and determines to upgrade his reading ability. “Despite my wide geographical love of mankind,” she says, “I am attacked by local fears.”

She and Mrs. Luddy develop a good relationship, discussing their common feelings as women, though Mrs. L. continues to believe that Faith can never completely understand the color differences.

This was also the period when NYC’s poor neighborhoods were being burnt in defiance of uncaring landlords who insisted on collecting rents, but did not maintain their properties. Faith sits at the same window her mother used to sit at and looks out at the neighborhood which has been turned into a devastated ruin in which youths who can not find jobs, nor a future, lounged about with nothing to do.

One morning Mrs. Luddy tells Faith it is time to go home. She looks at Faith strictly. Faith says, “I tried to look strictly back, but I failed because I loved the sight of her.” On her run, which begins on Ocean Parkway (which I remember well) she finally eases back into her own life. Her sons hardly acknowledge her return. They are fully adult and into their own lives. One of them is busily involved visiting his friends, victims of the drug culture of the time and who are now in several mental institutions. (I now live near two--Creedmor and Hillside, which is famous for rehab.)

As a New Yorker, a some time liberal and mother who saw her children leave what she had formerly thought was the best city in the world, I think you can understand my identification with a writer like Paley.

Here are two poems I wrote of my feelings during that era:

ALL WE CAN GIVE THE CHILDREN IS PROMISES

that they will be strong
healthy
beautiful
Grow up to find
a job they enjoy
marry the one they love
and produce happy
achieving children.

What can we say,
to an inner-city
five-year-old
who lives with decay
littered streets
the sound of gunfire
sirens?

What promises
can we make
to the young man
who says
he can’t find a job
or love.

and growing up means
he will get sick
or shot dead.

This poem I wrote from a newspaper story about a toddler who was shot by a stray bullet while his family presumed he was safe in their apartment.

NEW YORK SUMMER

Talking. Laughing. Carrying
on, they sit in shade
of drawn blinds,
shutting out hot
treeless pavement,
rubbled lots
grafittied, urinous
passageways.

Behind the hollow door
with makeshift metal shield,
they think about the Caribbean,
Hibiscus
Heliconia
Jade vine,

Nine people gathered in
airless afternoon,
some with jobs--some
looking for jobs,

trying not to talk about
murdered, sleeping children
trapped in the city
of no escape,

Remembering
the sound of sirens
sporadic gunfire:
Veronica. Yaritami. Benjamin.
watching Rayvon
in his walker
by the door.

-----------------------------------
Things are much better here now, but there is still lots to be done. Don’t let this get you down. Love and Happy New Year to all.

Charlotte

I won't call myself stupid,but maybe ignorant. If I looked at the fly leaf I would have discovered the origin of the painting immediately. Mal was way ahead of us. She knew where to look. I love it and Ginny's painting too. Am wondering how big that thing is that she has to carry from room to room.

Charlotte

CHARLOTTE!!!!! It's big but not as big as your poems, those are MARVELOUS!!! Simply marvelous!! VERY FINE!! I love them!!

What? What do you mean "of course she didn't stay three weeks." HAH??

What do you mean? How long did she stay?

How could she get up one morning and be told to leave?

I think when she arranged for the children to be fed I left her mentally. If they're too young to be able to fix their own food she has no business leaving them, runnning away and moving in to some stranger's house even if she did live there. She lost me. I was angry at her irresponsibility.

It's amazing what we get out of these stories, why do you say she didn't stay?

Totally Admiring the Poetry!

No Ginny, you didn't get it right. The children were fully grown and into their own lives. They were watching TV and didn't care when she left. It was time for both the mother and the children to make their own lives.

When she came back, they barely acknowledged her return, they were so busy doing their own thing.

As for Mrs. Luddy telling her to leave--this was a very smart woman. She knew that Faith was becoming too dependent on her and the children. She also knew that no matter how Faith tried, she could never know what it is to be black. Nor could she ever help that race. Mrs. Luddy's statement is emblematic of the era when the blacks decided they could no longer accept the help of the whites. They would have to do the job themselves.

Charlotte

I had nearly the same impression that Charlotte did, except that I thought her three week stay was a kind of surrealistic flight of fancy, a recognition of some truth that she did not see as a younger woman. I think this is one of the best and most complete stories in the book.

Fine poetry, Charlotte. Why don't you submit to the m.e.stubbs poetry journal?

Mal

The Millennium edition of Sonata magazine for the arts is now on the web. Among the talented writers represented in this issue are Lorrie Gorg, Charlotte Snitzer and Claire Read. I do hope you'll take time to look at the Y2K pages of Sonata magazine for the arts.

Marilyn Freeman
Publisher of Sonata magazine for the arts
m.e.stubbs poetry journal
The WREX Pages

for more than your poetry. I used the Thomas Wolfe thing too. You can't go home again. It struck me immediately. . . and I believed that she stayed for three weeks. and would have stayed longer if she hadn't been asked to leave. She was beginning to identify with he family, to feel that she belonged. It was very clear the she didn't belong in her own home anymore. The long distance runner still has a long way to go to find a place for herself. I think maybe we all do. . .

I'm a fan . . . 'like your mind.

Claire

Me, too, Claire. I've learned a LOT from this discussion. Thanks to Charlotte's careful reading, I suddenly have a new slant on this last story which I hated the first time I read it and which I now see entirely differently.

The term "long distance runner" is used a lot in literature, but I'm not sure THIS runner epitomizes us all in our own runs. It certainly doesn't me.

If I read something and the author says she was gone for three weeks, then I assume she was gone for three weeks. If she was NOT gone for three weeks, then what else is true, what else is real, anything? It begins to irritate me, is the author playing a game?

On the ages of the children, faugh.

"One day, before of after forty-two, I became a long distance runner....I kissed the kids goodbye. They were quite old by then. It was near the time for parting, anyway. I told Mrs. Rafferty to look in now and then and give them some of that rotten Celtic supper she makes. I told them they could take off any time they wanted to. Go lead your private life, I said. ONly leave me out of it...'You're depressed Faith,' Mrs. Rafferty said.....When I walked out the door they were all reclining before the television set...I said Goodbye. They said Yeah, Ok, sure....If that's how it is, forget it, I hollered and took the Independent subway to Brighton Beach."

I hate the woman all over again. She's having a midlife crisis. She has her kids at home. She is only 42 years old, maybe not even THAT old. How OLD can they be? If she had the first one at 15, the oldest would only be 27. And they live with her, but she says, hey, OUT. Time for parting anyway. Birds leave nests type of thing, I'm going. Then when they don't react, well, the heck with them all anyway.

OH I hate that kind of self absorbed person. She goes to find family somewhere ELSE with somebody ELSES children and family? Her own kids are at home, but they're not enough? Then she comes back and...well shock shock they aren't killing themselves to welcome her. Perhaps she has only been gone 3 hours not 3 weeks.

Maybe she's lying to herself like she's lying to us. I have no use for her. HAVE your midlife crisis but leave the kids out of it. Don't tell THEM to leave YOU out of their lives, I have no respect for this woman and she'll be alone just like the elders she grew up observing.

There's a lot more, to me, now, in this story than there was, and I have Charlotte to thank for it. The joys of a Book Club!

Ginny

Ginny:

I think you need a little info. on the mothers of the '50's. I was a member of this group--all the way. The children came first before anything else. Anything I had or wanted to do was always put off for manana.

After I read Beauvoir's, The Second Sex, I finally realized that I had some rights too. Fortunately I was then living in NYC where a college education was free. That was when they began to make it a little easier for we women who were then in our forties.

Going to college changed my life, though being a mother still took priority. I still shopped, baked, cooked, and cleaned house even though I needed the use of a cane to walk outdoors. I was always available at my desk, although the children rarely bothered me.

When I got my master's in English Ed., I still believed that my role was to help children. I tried to teach H.S., but this was imposssible. It was in the seventies and pretty awful, but it became much worse later on.

I think Faith realized early on that there were still a lot of years left and she had to make a life for herself. Her attitude towards her already mature children was mostly in what she was thinking. I'm sure that as soon as she established who she was and what she was going to do with her life, they would develop a mature relationship with her.

I thoroughly enjoy my relationship with my children, now that they are all adult. There were a few hairy years when their children prevented any real adult discussion, but now that some them are entering their teens we have time to talk and relate.

Charlotte

Charlotte, well, I'm a mother too, tho of the 70's, but I remember my own mother who gave up her teaching career to stay home in the 50's.

I taught, too, right on through the 70's, and went to grad school 30 miles away at night, and had two sons all at the same time. I understand wanting to have your own life. I do not understand telling children of any age to get out or to leave me out of their life, walking out on them. I do understand deferring or permanently waylaying a dream for family, we choose what we choose.

You reap what you sow.

I don't have any grandchildren so I need to wait on that, and nobody knows what's down the road. I, too, would like to start a new life in the last 50 years possibly remaining, but sometimes other considerations enter into the picture.

Even her neighbor thought she was depressed.

What's most important for a person? Obviously she wanted family, she tried to "adopt" a new one, faugh. It's NOT about personal growth, it's a step backwards, and it's a perfect example of a totally dysfunctional family at work.

If she wants a new life and to be a new person, let her do it, but not leach on a family somebody else bothered to maintain.

I see this pushed a button of mine, but am enjoying our conversation anyway, so grateful to you for enlivening this discussion!

Ginny

Ginny:

You came twenty years too late to really understand where we're coming from. It reminds me of the women who achieved in business. They said, I didn't need any help from anyone. I got here strictly on my own. They had no understanding of all the women who went before them and fought so hard for women's rights. I mourn the fact that women's suffrage came too late for Stanton and Anthony to realize they had achieved their goal.

An afterthought: I had a cousin three years older than I. She was one of those who got to college at the right time. She had an important job in business and made lots of money. She was the envy of my life and a role model,until many years later when she admitted that sleeping around helped her to get there.

Charlotte

Milt says I need a new body.

Charlotte

I need more than that! hahahahah, now Charlotte, what makes you think that somebody who did that in the 70s didn't have to struggle, too?

We don't know what some of us actually went thru, do we?

I love Milt.

hahahah

You two are just perfect, wouldn't take anything at all for having met you!

Love, g

When I finally left my husband my children were in their mid twenties. I figured they were mature now and it wouldn't damage them. WRONG. they were devastated. more on that later.

As part of the settlement I was to live in the family house and rent out rooms for two years after which it would be sold. The house had five bed rooms. I ended up using two of them and renting the rest to other peoples children in their twenties, thirties and fifties. It was a nice transition. No I didn't play mama, but I was glad to be included in their concerns. I was so used to it and for years afterwards I was "Mary Worth" peripheral to all the concerns of others.

I've finally quit doing that. Nurturing is a habit we learn as mothers, some of us take it on for a life time. That doesn't make it a good thing to do. It certainly can't replace having a life, a life of ones own.

I know that forty nine, when I left to go get a job and see the rest of the world, was too late to pursue that and waiting for the kids to mature was thankless. They're only just beginning to do that now in THEIR forties. (G). I wish I'd had enough sense to do it earlier.

Claire

Ginny:

This is not just about Faith alone. It is about women's issues, about getting stuck forever in the "mother" role and not having a life of your own. It's about relating to small children more than to those who are already adults, i.e. Mrs. Luddy's children. It's about the realization of the blacks no matter how kind and helpful the whites appear, that the only way to better conditions for the blacks is to take their fate in their own hands.

Black participation in the media in this fast approaching new era seems to be on the increase. What we have to realize is they were here before we, who are the descendants of more recent immigrants, were. They have families which go back many generations.

Our society with it's mixture of blacks, Asians and a myriad of color is like none that has ever existed before. It is an experiment which for the future of mankind just has to work.

Charlotte

Now I understand why you and I identify somewhat with Faith. I guess we really have to bring our experiences to what we read. It must have been difficult with renting out rooms, but it great to be able to participate a bit in so many young lives.

My son lived with us until he was 26 and our daughters, who had already gone, urged him to move out. He was an American Youth Hostel leader who organized long-distance bicycle trips. The group often gathered at our house and I got to know many of these fine young people. When he had a house-warming in his new apartment, we were invited. The members ranged in age from 15 to the forties. He is now married with two children and they are all bicyclists.

I am looking back at some of the other stories and found the one about Mrs. Raferty who is "liked, loved, invented and endured," by Faith. Her story is called "Distance." It begins on page 15.

In the book store the other day, I found "Just As I Thought," by Paley. The back cover has a quote by John Leonard which states it is as close to autobiography as anything we'll ever get from her. I have only just begun to read it, but am convinced that Paley really is Faith and she has chosen this name as emblematic of why she continues to go on.

Charlotte

Wow, Charlotte, how about tell us what she says? I'd really like to know. I sorta thought that Faith was Grace, too, as she was a recurring character and I do like your take on her name.

Claire, I loved that post, how interesting you ARE!

Ginny

I don't believe Grace Paley is Faith. Paley is more than just a good writer, and really good writers do not use themselves and their own experiences in a literal way to create characters and situations. Faith probably is a composite of people Paley knew at the time, or better still, a character created from observations Paley did of women and their situation in the sixties and what she determined about them.

Good writers are constantly observing people and their behavior, how they talk and move and why they act as they do. When writers write about themselves they get stuck in a subjective mode that can't go very far or make for the best kind of reading. I don't have that impression from this book of Grace Paley's.

In my opinion, it is a mistake to try and find the author in what he or she writes because you lose the essence of the the writer is trying to say. Several people have tried to find me in my writing, and I have to laugh. One time I said in reply to a comment that the lead character is I in one of my books, "For heaven's sake, I've never been a womanizing male college professor at a woman's college in a fictitious town in Vermont." I've never been a college professor in my life, more's the pity, nor ever will be. I've been in Vermont fewer times than the number of fingers on my left hand. That does not mean I cannot write about college professors and their work, which I often do, or that I cannot write in the first person about a bigoted man talking in a barbershop. I did exactly that recently in a monologue short story. I also wrote about a woman who lived in New York City who almost had a run-in with a very large man on the sidewalk and solved the problem by asking him if he wanted to dance. That story is in the current issue of Sonata if you'd like to read it. I have never lived in New York City, never met a guy like that on the sidewalk and don't cook kielbasa and kraut for dinner when unwanted relatives are coming down from Poughkeepsie or any time. I never knew anybody who lived in Poughkeepsie, nor did I know anything about the fictitious town in California I dreamed up for a short story I wrote after my one and only brief visit to that state, but I can write about all of those things, and so could Paley if she wanted to.

My experiences with marriage and feminism were similar to Charlotte's. I also was influenced by Simone de Beauvoir in the sixties. In fact, Charlotte and I have mentioned it in emails. Unlike Charlotte, though, my husband at the time was not named Milt, and the marriage ended some twenty-five years ago. It was then I learned that a man's lot is not all it's cracked up to be. I discovered that my freedom brought the need to work hard to support myself. That opened me up to a lot of stuff I'd never considered before about the struggle men have in the workplace, and my strong and staunch feminist feelings changed a good deal.

I'm truly sorry about Jim Olson's injury and hope he's back with us soon.

Mal

said that he was writing from his own experiences. At least this is how I read it when we did the biography. I guess some do and some don't. Mal part of my admiration for you as a writer is that you can write in any voice and from any viewpoint. Now THAT really takes imaginations. Many writers are one character writers, i f not themselves then one they've dreamed up and found to be successful. I'm not fond of mysteries with the same detective in every book.

Ann Lamott writes about herself but not always as fiction. Paley reminds me of her a little.

There seems to be a whole new genre of women's books which are written intimately in the first person. I like it when they include their children and their children's point of view. 'Wonder if men can do that one.

Some one mentioned joe Coombs as writing a pretty good woman. I bought the book and mostly agree, but not completely. The name of the book is long and complicated and I forget such things but I saw it here . . . delightful cast of characters

Claire.

A lot of writers in the past and today go by the old adage "Write what you know". I was afraid to write about what I didn't know until a member of WREX, 88 year old Ira Gay Sealy, called me up from Texas a few years ago and said that was ridiculous. I had admired Ira's writing. He could write about anything and everything and was tremendously prolific until he had a health problem recently. After Ira told me this, I let my fears go about the unknown quantity that such freedom implies and began really to write. I knew after I posted what I did that someone would come in and tell me about writers who write about themselves, Claire, and of course you're right. I still firmly believe that the best writing is done by an objective writer. What do you know about Shakespeare from his plays except that he was probably a more magnificent observer of human nature, humans and their foibles than any other writer?

You mean you're not crazy about James Bond??

Mal

booorrrrrriiiiinnnng -- some exceptions though i.e. J. Kellerman whose psychologist hero is probably composed mostly of his own opinions and experiences with characters he draws from in his books and way back when....Perry Mason the principal character in Earl Stanley Garder's detective stories. There's a wonderful character in a series of books by ???forget???placed in florida who used to be governor but retired to the hinterlands and lives on road kill as well as other wild things. The authors name starts with H and has a couple of i's next to each other. Anyone Know who I mean?

English writers are for the most part to wordy and slow for their mysteries to interest me although I know there are hoards of folks who swear by them. We all have our likes and dislikes for reading, but for writing, I'm fussy . . I don't want to be distracted by bad writing or bored with uninteresting characters. At the same time I've read everything Louis L'Amour has written and enjoyed it. His main character is often the landscape. His humans highly predictable. Flying east I kept looking down at the mountains and plains and back at the map trying to indicate the places he used.

Claire

Hi,

I'm Nancy. Has anyone out there read this book by Tom Brokaw? It's one of the most interesting and heartwarming books I've ever read. I'm a babyboomer and love just about everything before my time.

Nancy, Welcome, welcome!! You have definitely come to the right place, and as far as THE GREATEST GENERATION, our Good War participants will be reading it next. There's quite a bit of interest in it, so I hope you 'll definitely stick around, and maybe join in other places as well. We are just delighted to see you here~

Wish you could have been with us in Chicago, we met with Studs Terkel who wrote THE GOOD WAR and got the Pulitzer for it, it was magic. You might want to look in to that discussion, I'll send your email address to Robby, who leads it, you might enjoy the first hand experiences.

Anyway, welcome~! We are very glad to see you and hope to see you in THE GREATEST GENERATION!

Ginny

Claire, just wanted to comment on your post a few back about Joe Coomer, my "find" of last summer. I think the book you're referring to is, "Beachcombing for a Shipwrecked God" - or something very like that. Loved that book - and also another of his, "The Decatur Road". A third one, can't recall the title but there was a baseball theme running through it, I didn't care for at all - mainly because baseball doesn't interest me. But the Beachcombing one has left me with a renewed determination to someday live by the sea - or at least a river with tides. Funny how that "feel" has stayed with me so long after finishing the book.

January 3, 2000

Grace Paley

It was just by accident that I got into reading GP. I pushed the one-click button on Amazon. They immediately told me that I had ordered the book and it was too late to cancel. So I joined the discussion. I had read her novel and was not particularly impressed. But the stories were a revelation. I am impressed by her poetic language, her ear for authentic dialogue, her sense of humor and her acceptance of whatever life brings her way.

In a limited way I have been a political activist, a feminist and am about contemporary with her, agewise. I am a secular Jew who has experienced anti-semitism, but avoid religious affiliation because I believe it encourages separatism and war. Paley, on the other hand, grew up in the warm Jewish community that then pervaded New York. Early on she knew what she believed in. It became her mission to fight the human abuses in society. And she continued to fight as she continued to write.

I found her collection writings Just As I Thought, and learned that it is the closest readers can come to what may be considered her autobiography. While I was intrigued by her stories and studied them for what I could learn, I found the collection not as carefully written or edited.. But that is alright, because it made me see that not everything a writer does can be as good as she hopes. I applaud her political activism, but I no longer enjoy reading about it, because I read all the reports while these things were happening.

Though, at first, I felt her stories were clumsily written, I found that study brought out many things I would not have noticed merely reading for plot. As one critic describes it: “Her best characterizations display a dogged courage to be confused and curious about their lives.” I find that to be a very human element common to all of us with any degree of sensitivity.

From the non-fiction collection I learned that she does consider that she is FAITH. I feel that the choice of this name is that it is emblematic of her courage to continue her chosen path in life. As Beckett says in one of his plays, perhaps in Waiting for Godot: “I can’t go on. I will go on.”

Over the years, I have been told to study a writer I identified with and then seek to emulate her. In GP I think I have found that writer. I wrote the following story in what I think is her style. It is different than anything I have ever written before. Of course it is partly autobiographical, as well as fictional, because that it is the way I write. I cannot yet write out of my imagination as Mal says, but I may yet try. I hope my family will not be angry with me for what they see or may not see in the story.

Writing for SN is what gave me the tools to make such a change in my writing style. I’d like to know what you think of my story. Despite the fact that some of you didn’t like Paley’s work, I find her to be extremely honest with herself and her readers. I needed that too. I do object to some of her vulgarity, --which is a common reaction of my generation. But I’m sure that literature will eventually survive the fact that though we have the powers of intellect, we are still basically animal.

I still have one more story to study. That is the characterization of Mrs. Raferty whom Faith “liked, loved and endured.” It begins on page 15. I will write more later. Meanwhile, please read my new story and tell me what you think.

Love and another Happy New Year to you all. Unbelievable that it is now 2000.

Charlotte

BEFORE YOU READ THIS, PLEASE READ MY PREVIOUS MESSAGE

OF FINICS AND FOOD

Sarah eats only bologna sandwiches. Davy, the baby whose teeth haven’t come through yet, eats only lamb chops. Big sister Ellie, throws up at the sight of orange juice. What’s a mother to do? How can I get all the kids to eat right?

How about two birthday cakes in one week? All right, blame me. Can I help it if Sarah and Davy were born two years apart, in the same week in June. I end up doing crazy things like telling the baker to write “Happy Birthday Sarah,” because she can read. Davy won’t know the difference. When I tell the guy to cut the cake in half, he looks at me as if I’m nuts. I don’t bother to explain. The writing on the cake is free. Who passes up a freebie?

I’m always shlepping to the supermarket, dragging home five, six big bags of groceries. In a couple of days, it’s shopping time again. So with three kids and a husband who prefers food to sex, I’m running all the time.

My husband Daniel says he hates meat, but I always cook meat. Most of it goes in the garbage. What else can you cook for a family that makes excruciating faces and revolting noises at everything I put on the table. Davy lives on milk. Drinks it like it’s water. My kitchen always stinks of sour milk, especially when he brings in two gallons and they break on the basement stairs.

When I’m not looking, Sarah and Davy exchange the body parts of eggs. He eats only yolks. She gets. only whites He overdoses on cholesterol and her nutrition is shpilkes. Ellie lives on carrot sticks and Daniel stuffs himself with the two packages of cookies I thought I was buying each week for the kids..

Then suddenly they all grow up, get married and turn into gourmets. They buy pasta machines. They tell me that the dry stuff you get in boxes is gross and insist that what comes out of the machine is authentic pasta made the old-fashioned way. Sarah’s husband works his way through the 1000 Recipe Chinese Cookbook in the middle of Michigan and Davy who moves to Ohio when his wife gets a fantastic job, becomes all-round cook and bottle washer for his family.

Ellie’s husband Marty buys wine by the case and holds wine-tastings for his friends in Berkeley. His guru is Chez Panisse’s Alice Waters. She recommends soaking the Thanksgiving turkey in brine. So they soak the turkey in brine, but don’t remember that the old pot I gave them has a small hole. Next morning there’s turkey juice all over everything in the fridge and out on the floor. Ellie says Marty went ballistic throwing out all the food below the leak and scrubbing out the fridge. But the turkey turned out okay. Best they ever ate.

Before E-mail I was always on the phone, with advice and precautions about what everyone should do.. Marty needs a new stove. Says if he ever gave up on academia and decided to open a restaurant he’d need a six-burner commercial stove, to accomodate his soups and sauces. Daniel says this is crazy. He’s the family authority on all things mechanical and electronic. Marty should get a stove with a self-cleaning oven, he says. So I get on the phone to tell Ellie what to do and the voice on the other end says:

“Who is this?” I am on the threshold of congestive heart failure. “It’s your mother,”

“I don’t have a mother,” she says. I’m sure I’m getting a heart attack until I realize it’s Ellie’s best friend visiting from New York. She sounds just like Ellie.

“What’s wrong with a commercial stove?” she says, “We have one too.” Goodbye self-cleaning oven. They get the commercial stove. Who needs clean. Now they talk about food all the time. We send recipes by E-mail, give cookbooks for Hanukkah and birthdays. And share successes and failures with complicated concoctions. They have more fun talking about food than I ever did before I had kids. I never tell them how I used to salivate over the elaborate chocolate bedecked window displays by Barton’s and Barracini on occasional trips to New York.

First, I must admit I'm disappointed in Grace Paley, since you posted that she used herself as the model for Faith. I gave her more credit than she apparently deserves.

Second, your story reminds me a great deal of your The Dumb Cane. You've personalized your style by using the first person in a chatty way, and the inclusion of what I assume are Yiddish terms gives a good color to the piece. It's a very good story, publishable for sure.

I strongly disagree with whoever it was that told you forming your style on another writer's style is the way to go. However, whatever gets a writer to write is fine with me. Keep writing, Charlotte.

Mal

Charlotte!!!!!!

Your post, your post was beautiful. Magic. Beautiful. It's too bad we don't have a discussion for gorgeous posts, I just loved it.

The story? I loved it, too. How true, how funny, I loved it. What does this mean? "shpilkes?"

How is it pronounced? I love it.

Send it to somebody, it's great. Enter it in some writing contest, they have them all the time.

I love it.

Ginny

HELLO MOONSONG!

In our Welcome discussion, you posted that you love to read biographies and as several of us love them also, I thought I should invite you to participate in our newest one. It is an autobiography written by Noel Coward of the WWII years and entitled Future Indefinite. While our Book Bunch was in Chicago in November, we saw a play written by Coward - "After the Ball" - and it sparked our interest in this multi-talented composer, actor, director, and author.

We have read many in the past: two which come to mind right off are Katherine Graham's "Personal History" (this autobiography won a Pulitizer Prize and as you probably know, she is the owner of the Washington Post); David Niven's two books, and one about Thomas Jefferson.

DO JOIN US!

And, of course, all are welcome - would love to have all of you!

gee it's great, wonderful, I loved it, so here goes. You write so well that's a given, but I feel that like Paley there is a dirth of plot, that I've just opened the door on a novel and met the characters for the first time and also you. Now I want to know what happens to everyone. I've become involved already since your presentation is warm and funny and inviting. I care about them and about you. Now I want some action, some beginning other than a character study and a resolution or end. Am I wrong. is there that stuff already? Maybe I should read it again. You know I'm a fan of yours. . . do some more. (s)

Claire

I like all that stuff too, but have been unable to make sense out of Stephen Hawkings. Biographies interest me sometimes. . . . when they are about creative people, i.e. Georgia O'Keefe and some of the writers we've read and stuudied. It looks like you've found us and we're ILK. come on in the water's wet. (G) Claire

January 6, 2000

My approach to Literature

I’m trying to understand why my approach to literary work is often different from the rest of you. I am grateful that Claire, Lorrie, Ginny and Mal think to some extent the way I do. But I find that most people read for pleasure and plot. They do not want to give any work more than one reading. I feel this is a disservice to a writer who may have spent years in the writing.

Readers sometimes become upset by characters and are unhappy if they cannot identify with the people they read about. Yet, writers do not require that we identify with the people they describe. They study individuals and sometimes exaggerate characteristics to make them more humorous and dramatic. They are intrigued by the people they create and are curious as to why they do what they do. They do not want us to love or hate these figments of their imagination. They only want us to wonder about and to understand where they are coming from and what is behind their actions.

I find there are many different approaches to writing as there are different genres in the canon of literature.. I can only write about what I know. I admire what Marilyn creates out of her imagination, but I think I cannot do that. Milt says, “Okay, but don’t write about me.” This is impossible, since we have been together for more than 57 years. Nor can I omit what happens to the rest of my family. This means taking liberties with what happens and sometimes changing things to accommodate the material. The people from whom I’ve drawn these ideas may say, “No that’s not the way it happened,” and there can sometimes be hurt feelings. You all know the histories of writers who were cast out of their communities for what they wrote. When they became famous they received overwhelming praise and were reclaimed by those of whom they had written, sometimes scathingly.

Claire says she wants to know more about the people in my short piece. After I finished it, I realized that a reader might want more detail. Perhaps I will write more in future. But what I was writing about were actual incidents that really happened in my family. I only fictionalized them a little and do not know what their reactions will be. The book she wants is our lives. Perhaps this may evolve if I am given enough time in the new century.

For Ginny: The Yiddish expressions were what I picked up living in NY. “Shpilkes” means “nervous tics.” But what I really meant that the child who eats only the white of the egg gets no nourishment. It is pronounced just the way it sounds, with two syllables (accent on the first). As for spelling: that is always in dispute, since Yiddish is a spoken rather than a written language.

Further comments on Faith: Paley is far too outspoken and confrontational to ever consider that she herself is Faith. She has participated in too many demonstrations against segregation in the South , calling for an end to the Viet Nam war. and more importantly, perhaps, she has always fought for the rights of women to control their own lives and bodies.

Faith is the name she uses the show that she feels the sense of insecurity and the lack of confidence that many of us feel at one time or another. Her choice of this name is to assure her characters that despite what happens to them, they will go on. Isn’t this the way most of us must continue to survive?

Charlotte

Now, I really did enjoy reading your post this morning, Charlotte, and I do agree with most of what you said except about the whites of eggs. I am very pleased that you said Paley was too confrontational to be her character, Faith. I most certainly agree. I do not agree that you cannot write from your imagination, and I'll tell you why.

Through WREX I have watched and often helped writers, most of whom write about themselves and their families when they first join the group. There is one member of this group who showed the potential for being a very good writer when she first came in. At a certain point, I suggested to her that she put herself and her family behind her and begin to create. This happened some time ago, and what I received from her was extremely strong resistance, if not indignation. She insisted that she could not write from imagination. I said, "Fine", but not too long after that her writing began to change, and at this time she is, indeed, creating characters and writing from her imagination. Her latest novella is about vampires, and I'm certain there were none of those in her family. I know it can be done, and I know you can do it, too. The first book I ever wrote was an autobiographical one. Having more or less purged myself of my own and my family's history, I began to write in a very different way.

I read in a different way from some other people, too. Some many years ago there came a point when I was no longer looking for myself and answers in what I read. I was reading what the writer wrote, instead. I really believe that is what every writer, including Grace Paley, wants.

I am a very fast reader, and always find myself going back to certain parts of the book, the parts which have stuck with me. I am an analytical kind of person, too, and I read as a writer. As a former performing musician, I listen to music in much the same way; as a musician who has studied composition, theory and music analysis. I have never had a course in writing, but I have learned from reading and have some instinct about the art of writing and a good foundation in the structure, grammar and punctuation of the English language as well. I also am very aware of the rhythm of what I write. I write in iambic tetrameter, which you may have noticed in things you've read of mine. The rhythm of writing is very important when it comes to the pace and flow of a work. I am very aware of the rhythm in my writing and that in books I read.

I do not analyze a book unless I feel the book is worth the analyzing. Most aren't. There are very few really good writers in this world, you know, and I won't waste my time trying to figure out what most lesser ones were trying to accomplish. It's easy enough with that kind of writer to figure out what they were trying to say.

Well, I guess that's about all I have to say in a very long-winded way. Oh, yes, one more thing. Let yourself go sometime, Charlotte. Make up a character or two in a fictitious town, create a simple situation for them and see what happens. You might be very pleasantly surprised.

Mal

I didn't want you to take these character of yours who happen to be in your family literally through their lives as such. A funny thing happened when I wrote about my children in a short story called siblings. It's on my page if you want to see it and it was part of an exercise for when I was with an on line writing group. In the story I killed of the little girl and my daughter was very upset about it. She thought it was really about her, and although it started out to be like her, the story took over and it became someone who might have been like her. I think the place to go is from the familiar, where we have information to the MIGHT have beens or COULD be's. There's a little of me in A PRACTICAL WOMAN...another short story from that group and now on my page. We had an assignment to do a story based upon a conversation between teen agers. I haven't been associated with any for too long to even begin, so I went to a teenage chat room and copied and rearranged until I had a story with a really neat ending and all in teen0ese. It's there too, called "teentalk".

I don't know if I"ve ever made up characters out of whole cloth. I guess maybe I did in this months Sonata offering MOVING DAY, which I renamed RASCALS because I began to see some subtle aspects to it which my editor didn't agree with. So it's her publication, let her have it her way, but my way is on my page as Rascals. I'm finding that writing is very personal . . . it belongs first of all to the author and we're very loath to give up on it or let anyone change a word. I'm very insecure as a writer because it seems to do itself . . . no control, but find it worth trying to do anyway. When It once takes over I'm a road hazard, writing in my mind while driving etc. Keep it up and let your family either go or transform as you require.

Claire

I imagine every writer who has ever been published has the same complaint that Claire has. However, when a writer's "baby" has been accepted by a publisher, he or she must accept the fact that editing will be done. I know I've had to, including editorial remarks in the middle of the text of my work in a hard copy publication.

This is my last comment in this forum. I have very much enjoyed reading your messages about Grace Paley's effort. Thank you all very much.

Malryn

I am truly blown away with the past 20 odd postings. You are absolutely WONDERFUL, all of you. How I envy your talents.

Charlotte: I loved your story. It was filled with humor, amusement and "true" family interactions. I found myself giggling all the way to the end, especially as you "went into congestive heart failure."

Oh DO give us more. It's a delightful piece. I don't see the necessity of belaboring this particular story, though. These characters stand on their own. It's a short piece, narrated in the 1st person, about YOUR thoughts--- NOT the children. These thoughts are fleeting, they come and go in our lives, just as they did in your short story. Let it lie. It's fabulous just the way it is. I am one of the readers who dislikes GP. It's true -I didn't like her character Faith(less) but neither did I enjoy her writing style. I try to analyze the writing as Mal does, but found myself more intolerant with the character than the approach of the writer. I must admit, although I am a seasoned reader I do not have a clue as to how one is maintain the position of a prolific writer. My mind flits around too quickly to focus. With Faith, I did not CARE what Paley wanted us to see. I saw what I saw and disliked it!

Claire" You say ,writing is personal. I can't even keep a diary. One reason is the lack of focus that I've mentioned. The other is something much more personal. I am afraid someone will read it and not like it. Or maybe it is more that they will read it and see "ME." That took a great deal of courage for me to say that, so I will defer to you writers with the greatest of skills, at hand.

January 8, 2000

GP’s Mrs Raferty- DISTANCE, p. 15

Whether or not this is the Mrs. Raferty with whom Faith left her children, the author does not tell us. But this is an interesting character sketch about a woman who believes she is doing her best for her children, yet really wrecks their lives. She is a no-nonsense sort of woman , capable of amusing, original language.

She says “I have no complaints worth troubling the manager about,” so we know that her characterization of herself is that she is primarily a consumer and “nothing but a Primary Day Poll Watcher.” She is an onlooker at life and has not adjusted to the changes that comes with aging. She says “Well, O.K. Farewell certain years.” Yet she significantly interferes with the lives of others and doesn’t realize her own implication in the liaison she has unwittingly initiated between John and Ginny.

She talks to John, tells him “look me in the eye once in a while” and “what a good little twig you always were.” Then she is approving and uncritical of the unimaginative manner in which his cub scout den was handled. Not only that, but she had decided that John was not bright and did not urge him to go to college.

Though she admits that she, herself, had a wild youth, she does not allow this kind of experimentation to the youth of today. She feeds Mr. Raferty, accommodates his demand for sex, then she is free to watch TV.

“My wildness as a girl is my own life’s business, no one else’s,” she says. Yet she tells Ginny that her own son is her own business. Ginny denies this and tells her, “No. He’s his own.” Her reply is in caps: MY SON IS MY BUSINESS. BY LOVE AND DUTY. Certainly she is an outrageous woman and Paley possibly over-dramatizes her character, but we know that such people do exist.

Mr. R. tells her “You’re a pushy damn woman. I don’t know what use you are, and starts seeing other women. When he finally leaves she tells him, “I’ll send your shirts by the diaper service man.” John is “nervous to his fingernails.” When he asks her doesn’t she want her husband back, she tells him “Mind your business, “Mr. Two-weeks old.” When he persists, she calls him, “Mr. Just Born.”

When John brings a new girl, Margaret home, she is clearly insulting, “Just come over on the Queen Mary, dear” she says. Aie what a woman! Despite his mother, John is living a comfortable life. One of his children reminds Mrs. R. of herself, “She has flashy eyes and a little tongue sharpened to a scrappy point.”

John comes back to the street to see Ginny twice a week and Mrs. R. feels victorious. She sees John as he passes by on his way to see Ginny. She says she needs the sight of him, but doesn’t know why.

Now she thinks of her own life. “Some serious questions so far unanswered. She doesn’t understand what she has done to both John and to her own husband. Nor did she understand Anthony, who in her youth, introduced her to sex and engaged in it repeatedly with her. She had made the decision not to marry Anthony, but she has never allowed John to decide anything for himself.

Naturally, I am repelled by this woman, as I am by some of the vulgarity which Paley uses. But I’m sure you’ll agree that despite the exaggeration, such people do exist, and I am amused by the humor and originality of language Paley gives her.

Well so long Grace Paley. I’ve enjoyed my visit. So sorry that so many of us didn’t enjoy her work. I got much from studying it’s structure and humor and am now going back top finish up on Chapter VI in Absalom, Absalom.

Charlotte