Saturday, September 21, 2013

"Gazebo" by Raymond Carver

My urge is to copy and paste the story here, because nothing I can say about it can do it justice, and because it's so....I haven't eaten meat since I was twelve years old, but I imagine that when you take a bite of a perfectly cooked hamburger, fresh off the grill, it's something like my experience reading "Gazebo."

There is, of course, the opening:

That morning she pours Teacher's over my belly and licks it off.  That afternoon she tries to jump out the window.

There are these people trying to end something, Duane and Holly, trying to end it but they can't end it.  This way of honoring that our bad choices are runaway trains, as unavoidable as gravity....it's beautiful.

I'd open my eyes and look at the ceiling and listen to it ring and wonder what was happening to us.

But maybe I should be looking at the floor.  

I'll never forget that line.  This isn't a story; it's a tattoo.

My writer friend Kathy and I have been emailing back and forth about short stories, talking about this idea of whether something "happens" or not.  And I think a lot of readers are looking for that moment in the stories they read.  I think they want the stoning scene in The Lottery, if I'm being honest.  Great story, but in some ways that scene is the least interesting part of it.  Just sayin'.

And that's not Carver.  He doesn't zoom back and spoon feed you a climax.  He puts a target on the backs of two or three people and lets you witness the hunt.

I get down on my knees and start to beg.  But I am thinking of Juanita.  This is awful.  I don't know what's going to happen to me or to anyone else in the world.

Do you clap or cry after a line like that?  Maybe both.

So okay, it's happened.  I'm a Carver fan.  What should I read next?

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