What We Talk
About When We Talk About Love Book Review
What We Talk About When We Talk
About Love (WWTAWWTAL) began my trilogy of Carver
collections, which also contained Cathedral
and Will You Be Quiet, Please, Raymond
Carver being an American short story writer who was at his peak in the 1980s and
who often receives the title of being the individual who revived the format. Carver
focuses in on the blue-collar experience of everyday working class Americans in
the North West, hence critic Thomas R Edwards observation that Carver’s world
is one in which "people worry
about whether their old cars will start, where unemployment or personal
bankruptcy are present dangers, where a good time consists of smoking pot with
the neighbours, with a little cream soda and M & M's on the side.” Carver has a minimalist style, writing the bare
minimum for each of his tales, and this has two benefits. Namely that it allows
the tales to seem further reflective of the individuals they describe, where
there is little room for excess and great expense, and, in a more practical
light, the tales are easily read in one sitting, making them rather
approachable. Despite this, I did find Carver’s style one that took a little
time acclimatising to, especially his rather ambiguous and seemingly unfulfilled
endings, and even now my opinion on WWTAWWTAL remains rather undecided.
Carver
as a writer paints characters that are heavily relatable in terms of class and
lifestyle. For instance, Buddy the ‘common
labourer out of the saw mill’ in The
Third Thing That Killed My Father Off, and the protagonist of Viewfinder noting that ‘why would [anyone] want a photograph of
[the] tragedy [that is his house]’, his life being one in dull suburbia, a
lifestyle kept by many. Indeed the lack of a name for the ‘boy’ and ‘girl’ protagonists
of Everything Stuck To Him reflects
how their story can be transcended onto many. These characters are also
relatable in terms of their choices and decisions, the wife in So Much Water So Close To Home deciding
not to take a stand against the relative crime of her husband and instead being
seduced to stay by her animal needs as she ends up making love to him. Many of
the tales consist of this ‘physical…carnal
love’ as noted in the titular tale, rather than its unreachable, perfect counterpart.
Carver also uses colloquial language through the tales, a voice that many of
the readers would understand and relate to. Casual phrases such as ‘I says’ and ‘one in the oven again’ litter the collection, furthermore, rather
than following an unrealistic stream of dialogue, many of the speeches are
interrupted by throwaway injunctions. An example of the latter can be seen in
Tessa’s interruption of Mel’s heartfelt speech in What We Talk About When We Talk About Love , as she reminds him
that the vessels he talks of were in fact ‘called
vassals’. Carver also makes a comment on how closed off the human race is,
many of his characters refusing to reveal their true emotions and instead
dodging questions as regards to their mental state. Examples of this include
the main personage of I Could See The
Smallest Things noting that she ‘didn’t
have any more thoughts except the thought that [she] had to hurry up and sleep’
rather than consider the events that have just unfolded, equally in Sacks the protagonist says to their
father ‘everyone’s fine’… ‘which was not true’. The awkward, vacant, dried up conversation in
this tale is especially notable.
“Here we are” I
said.
“Well, yes”, he
said.
I shrugged and said
“yes”.
At first
I found this rather infuriating, Carver merely scratching the surface many
times, but then I began to question whether I myself would differ from any of
the characters and sadly the answer was no. Therefore Carver’s choice of such a
style is merely reflecting the majority of individuals on the planet,
furthering his sense of portraying real life. All these previous areas also
make Carver’s tales all the more powerful as the sense of real people being
portrayed is accentuated and hence they become more applicable, relevant and intriguing.
A
frequent theme running through the collection is the destruction and ending of
relationships, often due to infidelity on the part of one half of a couple. In
the rare occasions that Carver paints a picture marital bliss it is made clear
that this happiness will only be temporary. For instance in Everything Stuck To Him it is noted that
‘everything else…was outside for a while
anyway’ though the troubles that will eventually place a heavy strain on
the relationship are slowly burrowing their way inwards. Carver frequently
conveys a sense of boredom in marriage, something none the more evident in the
ending three lines of Mr Coffee and Mr
Fixit…
“Honey”, I said to
Myrna the night she came home.
“Let’s hug awhile
and then you fix us a real nice supper.”
Myrna said “wash
your hands”.
…in
which the cold, clinical tone of the last line reflects the dull, tense
situation the husband and wife now find themselves in. The sense of boring
continuation is also reflected in how the wife, Myrna, is quickly redirected
back to her usual duties in the kitchen. Further boredom is suggested in So Much Water So Close To Home in which the
protagonist’s husband is suggested as ‘eat[ing]
with a good appetite’ despite not being ‘hungry’. This illustrates a sense of gluttony merely for the
purpose of filling the emotional void in the marriage. Marriage decay and
marital conflict often takes the centre of Carver’s stories. This is illuminated
in Gazebo in which the physical decay
of the hotel owned by the main couple (the pool being noted as ‘fill[ing] up with a green gick so that the
guests wouldn’t use it any more’) coincides with the spiritual decay of
their relationship, thus emphasising it. Equally a deep sense of trust being
lost is conveyed in A Serious Talk when
the wife instructs the husband to ‘hang
up [from the phone in the kitchen] when [she] says’, not wishing him to
have an insight into her private life, whilst in So Much Water So Close To Home the wife ‘rakes [her] arms across the drawboard…send[ing] the dishes to the
floor’, further accentuating this sense of destruction. The previous
examples are pretty disturbing, but the ‘award’ as it were for the most
desperate image of marital decay clearly goes to the tale Popular Mechanics, as illustrated in the following section…
‘Let go of him [the
baby], he said.
Don’t, she said. You’re
hurting the baby, she said.
I’m not hurting the
baby, he said.
The kitchen window
gave no light. In the near dark he worked on her fisted fingers with one hand
and with the other hand he gripped the screaming baby up under an arm near the
shoulder.
No! she screamed
just as her hands came loose.
She would have it,
this baby. She grabbed for the baby’s other arm…’
This
shocking and intense description of a physical struggle for the baby, the one
shining gem of home from an otherwise battered and dead marriage, is a
startling display for the reader, with powerful effect. The two individuals
involved are made into mere animals, primitively fighting over this one
precious possession. Much of the time the main reason for this aforementioned decay
is infidelity, something that frequently crops up in the tales whether it be an
affair with ‘a Stanley Products woman’ as
in Sacks or the devastating affair of
Gazebo. As it is so often the male
partner that partakes in the affair in these tales perhaps Carver is making a
comment on the male sex as a whole, this being something that will be explored
in the next paragraph.
Carver
portrays his male characters often in a rather negative light. Men are made to
seem abusive, simplistic, predatorial and narrow minded, each of these traits
being something I will explore in this section. Firstly, as aforementioned, the
frequent infidelity in the tales is often due to the male partner, and the
following quote from Sacks seems to
suggest that this is a fault with the male gender as a whole.
‘A man can go along
obeying all the rules and then it don’t matter a damn anymore.’
This
seems to suggest that infidelity is almost programmed into the male sex, it
being impossible for a man to cling on to fidelity once he has been tempted to
do otherwise. Carver also paints many of his males in a predator-like,
simplistic light. For instance in So Much
Water So Close To Home the female protagonist notes a nearby driver as ‘look[ing] at [her] breasts, [her] legs’
whilst in Tell The Women We’re Going Out the
protagonist Jerry begins an ambush on two female cyclists passing by. The last
tale takes a darker light as Jerry stones both girls at the end as they don’t
respond to his coming on, this being one of many shocking male acts of violence
throughout the collection that also include the threatening husband of One More Thing and the destructor of A Serious Talk who ‘saws’ through the phone cord before ‘revers[ing]’ his car into his ex’s house. Men are also portrayed
as extremely narrow minded by Carver, for instance in Everything Stuck To Him the husband refusing to abandon a trip to
help his clearly struggling wife with childcare as ‘Carl’s planning on [him] going’. The most blatant case of
narrow-mindedness however has to be that of So
Much Water So Close To Home in which the husband, along with a band of his
mates, decide to leave a dead body they found in the water and worry about it
at the end of their trip. Thus they go on
‘cook[ing] fish,
cook[ing] potatoes, [drinking] coffee…[before taking] their cooking things and
eating things back down to the river and wash[ing] them where the girl was’.
This
brutal insensitivity and selfishness is rather startling to read and even more worryingly,
as Carver portrays, it seems to start from a young age, perhaps being ingrained
in the male psyche. This is seen in The
Bath when a young boy, having just seen his friend get hit by a car, thinks
the following thoughts:
‘he was wondering
if he should finish the rest [of the potato chips] or continue on to school.’
Overall,
Carver’s depiction of men thus is clearly very negative, the women of the
collection, in contrast, often taking the moral high ground and acting as the
victims. Men are portrayed as being closest to our evolutionary ancestors in
terms of their ‘survival of the fittest-esque’ and primitive behaviour, indeed
Carver’s dismal view towards the male gender has definitely made me check my
one ways and whims, hoping to escape from the stereotype he draws up.
Carver
also touches on the subject of mental illness in the collection, perhaps most
noticeably in After The Denim in
which the husband is evidently an incredibly unstable individual, prone to OCD
and showing some rather autistic behaviour. As the vignette, as it were, reaches
its end we are left with the rather upsetting observation that he ‘felt unworthy to be listening, to be
standing’, this being suggested as being a regular occurrence. Indeed, many
of the mental breakdowns and abusive displays previously discussed are seen as
momentary lapses in a continual stream of uninterrupted boredom and
unhappiness. Carver’s presentation of alcohol in the tales is also rather interesting,
he having been an alcoholic for a long part of his life. It is primarily
painted as a tool for destruction as seen in Gazebo where it is noted that ‘all
of [the couple’s] important decisions have been figured out when [they] were
drinking’ and I Can See The Small
Things in the line ‘Sam and Cliff
used to be friends, then one night they got drinking…’. Furthermore many of
the marital conflicts precedently described occur under the influence, for
example in One More Thing ‘L.D. [is] found dunk again’ before his
ensue of violence commences. Conversely, alcohol is also portrayed as a means
to achieve emotional numbness, hence the decision in So Much Water So Close To Home to ‘pick up some beer’.
As I earlier
stated, the greatest difficulty I found in acclimatising to Carver’s style was
not his minimalistic, plain writing style, but the ambiguous endings and
sporadic titles that label his work. The prime example of an unfulfilled ending
comes from the first story Why Don’t You
Dance as seen in the following
extract.
‘She kept talking. She
told everyone. There was more to it, and she was trying to get it talked out. After
a time she quit trying.’
I found
this ending particularly insufficient as the girl fails to fully gain an
understanding of the bizarre actions of the protagonist to the tale and it
seemed all too abrupt for me, indeed the word ‘trying’ itself seems rather mid-sentence and incomplete. The choice
of title’s was equally frustrating for me to start with too, examples such as Everything Stuck To Him seeming to have
little relation to the actual meaning and content of the tale itself. However,
as critic Mars-Jones suggests:
"Endings
and titles are bound to be a problem for a writer like Carver, since readers
and reviewers so habitually use them as keys to interpret everything else in a
story. So he must make his endings enigmatic and even mildly surrealist, and
his titles for the most part oblique. Sometimes he over-compensates."
Indeed, although at first look being frustrating and
seemingly bizarre I gradually got used to and began to appreciate the effect of
both the abrupt endings and titles, beginning to see the irony in many of them,
for instance Popular Mechanics describing
the struggle of force over the baby and Tell
The Women We’re Going emphasising how the horrific events described very
much are those done by the male sex. Equally the clinical and neutral ending to
the horrific show of force and violence in Popular
Mechanics provided some mirth, the ending being ‘in this manner the issue was decided’.
Thus, to
conclude, I by no means deny the fact that I found What We Talk About When We Talk About Love a struggle at first,
Carver’s style being something that took a while getting used to and eventually
somewhat appreciating. Although my opinion on Raymond Carver remains undecided,
I still find much praise for the powerful nature of the pictures he paints; accentuated
by the characters and tales being so relatable and believable and I look
forward to starting another one of his collections some time soon.
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