Dear Friends, This was meant to be a week off, a postcard week, but I couldn’t miss the invitation Tara Penry offered to collectively pay homage to Alice Munro. Alice Munro, the great Canadian writer of short stories, left the world a month ago on May 13 — there has been an outpouring of affection and admiration since then. How best to join in thanking her for the gift of her work?
Hey Sal, much enjoyed reading this! Here's some responses ...
I love the days as a perfect row of nesting spoons!
Also the idea that the practicalities of the task you set yourself may not really matter, may in fact even be a laughing matter.
Perhaps this is beside the point, but I can't help wondering, since you've chosen Alice Munro's own given name for the central figure, whether you calling her Ann in the second paragraph is deliberate. Or whether there are in fact two people in the story. By the end, with the repeated mention of Sammie, this seems very unlikely, but the first time I read it I was definitely seeing two people. I just checked, and I see that Alice Munbro's second given name was indeed Ann, so is there the idea here that no one is just one person? That we all contain multitudes? Intriguing ...
Finally, something that spans decades: more than twenty years ago, possibly nearer thirty, I bought an old paperback copy of "Everything That Rises Must Converge", a collection of short-stories by Flannery O'Connor. I bought it because of the title, which I knew from a song by Shriekback (this being pre-Internet, I didn't know that it was a quote from Pierre Teilhard de Chardin), and because the cover has a great photo of what looks like a shack destroyed by a hurricane. I never did get much into the stories (though I think I'll take this as a prompt to give them another try), but there's one sentence that really struck me and that I copied out and even translated into German, thinking one day maybe it might come in useful - and now that day has finally come :-)
"His shirt was green but so faded that the cowboy charging across the front of it was only a shadow."
From "The Lame Shall Enter First"
When I read your two paragraphs about the Pony Rodeo (the way it's vanished from visible reality, leaving only an obscure ache, the longing for a "perfect pony"), this quote instantly came to mind ...
Wow, thank you, Nick. I'm chagrined to say that you are a much better reader than I am a copy-editor. I had initially given the character the name Ann, which is Alice Munro's middle name, but later thought that was a bit coy. If the story was a thank-you to Alice, it should just be Alice.
I love that line from the O'Connor: "His shirt was green but so faded that the cowboy charging across the front of it was only a shadow." Years ago I met a woman at a literary event who told me her name was Flannery. "How much your mother must have loved you!" I thought. I think she found it a somewhat awkward name, but I had a pang of something like envy or keen admiration.
Wonderful scene, Sal. Several passages delighted me, including the dog lying in the patch of sunlight, raising her head once in a while, then settling again. The perfect image of a moment and the passing of time.
And this: "The idea of doing what had to be done next irritated her. Why did everything have steps that had to be followed?" speaks to where I am lately. So so relatable.
I so appreciate your reading this, Julie. Short fiction is definitely the unknown and unknowable sea for me (but that's why I want to be setting sail). Glad to think of you on the waters as well.
I loved it. It was restful but not dull. Not at all dull! My favourite part is, I think, the dog lifting its head then settling it down on its paws again. I don't have a dog but it reminded me of how they act. Great observation. I'm also glad the Alice/Ann conundrum was a typo and that someone had the courage/kindness to point it out! Do write more, Sal, you have a good eye, and the patience that writing requires.
Hey Sal, I loved this.
Oh, thank you! Fiction is a little scary.
It is. But I think it’s worth living with that.
I’m glad I jumped in.
LOVE this. <3 <3 <3
Thank you Bobby! <3
Hey Sal, much enjoyed reading this! Here's some responses ...
I love the days as a perfect row of nesting spoons!
Also the idea that the practicalities of the task you set yourself may not really matter, may in fact even be a laughing matter.
Perhaps this is beside the point, but I can't help wondering, since you've chosen Alice Munro's own given name for the central figure, whether you calling her Ann in the second paragraph is deliberate. Or whether there are in fact two people in the story. By the end, with the repeated mention of Sammie, this seems very unlikely, but the first time I read it I was definitely seeing two people. I just checked, and I see that Alice Munbro's second given name was indeed Ann, so is there the idea here that no one is just one person? That we all contain multitudes? Intriguing ...
Finally, something that spans decades: more than twenty years ago, possibly nearer thirty, I bought an old paperback copy of "Everything That Rises Must Converge", a collection of short-stories by Flannery O'Connor. I bought it because of the title, which I knew from a song by Shriekback (this being pre-Internet, I didn't know that it was a quote from Pierre Teilhard de Chardin), and because the cover has a great photo of what looks like a shack destroyed by a hurricane. I never did get much into the stories (though I think I'll take this as a prompt to give them another try), but there's one sentence that really struck me and that I copied out and even translated into German, thinking one day maybe it might come in useful - and now that day has finally come :-)
"His shirt was green but so faded that the cowboy charging across the front of it was only a shadow."
From "The Lame Shall Enter First"
When I read your two paragraphs about the Pony Rodeo (the way it's vanished from visible reality, leaving only an obscure ache, the longing for a "perfect pony"), this quote instantly came to mind ...
Wow, thank you, Nick. I'm chagrined to say that you are a much better reader than I am a copy-editor. I had initially given the character the name Ann, which is Alice Munro's middle name, but later thought that was a bit coy. If the story was a thank-you to Alice, it should just be Alice.
I love that line from the O'Connor: "His shirt was green but so faded that the cowboy charging across the front of it was only a shadow." Years ago I met a woman at a literary event who told me her name was Flannery. "How much your mother must have loved you!" I thought. I think she found it a somewhat awkward name, but I had a pang of something like envy or keen admiration.
Wonderful scene, Sal. Several passages delighted me, including the dog lying in the patch of sunlight, raising her head once in a while, then settling again. The perfect image of a moment and the passing of time.
And this: "The idea of doing what had to be done next irritated her. Why did everything have steps that had to be followed?" speaks to where I am lately. So so relatable.
I so appreciate your reading this, Julie. Short fiction is definitely the unknown and unknowable sea for me (but that's why I want to be setting sail). Glad to think of you on the waters as well.
I loved it. It was restful but not dull. Not at all dull! My favourite part is, I think, the dog lifting its head then settling it down on its paws again. I don't have a dog but it reminded me of how they act. Great observation. I'm also glad the Alice/Ann conundrum was a typo and that someone had the courage/kindness to point it out! Do write more, Sal, you have a good eye, and the patience that writing requires.
Very sweet of you to say, Kathy! I’m grateful for the encouragement.