By: Raymond Carver Publisher: Vintage Average Rating: Binding: Paperback Label: Vintage Number of Items: 1 Number of Pages: 240 Publication Date: June 18, 1989 Release Date: June 18, 1989
Product Description: "A dozen stories that overflow with the danger, excitement, mystery and possibility of life...Carver is a writer of astonishing compassion and honesty...his eye set only on describing and revealing the world as he sees it. His eye is so clear, it almost breaks your heart."--Jonathan Yardley, Washington Post Book World
"Cathedral contains astonishing achievements, which bespeaks a writer expanding his range of intentions."--The Boston Globe
"A few of Mr. Carver's stories can already be counted among the masterpieces of American fiction...Cathedral shows a gifted writer struggling for a larger scope of reference, a finer touch of nuance." --Irving Howe, front page, The New York Times Book Review
"Clear, hard language so right that we shiver at the knowledge we gain from it." --Thomas Williams, Chicago Tribune Book World
"Carver is more than a realist; there is, in some of his stories, a strangeness, the husk of a myth." --Los Angeles Times
Stories included: "Feathers" "Chef's House" "Preservation" "The Compartment" "A Small, Good Thing" "Vitamins" "Careful" "Where I'm Calling From" "The Train" "Fever" "The Bridle" "Cathedral"
Amazon.com Review: It was morning in America when Raymond Carver's Cathedral came out in 1983, but the characters in this dry collection of short stories from the forgotten corners of land of opportunity didn't receive much sunlight. Nothing much happens to the subjects of Carver's fiction, which is precisely why they are so harrowing: nothingness is a daunting presence to overcome. And rarely do they prevail, but the loneliness and quiet struggle the characters endure provide fertile ground for literary triumph, particularly in the hands of Carver, who was perhaps in his best form with this effort.
A slice of Americana To fully appreciate Raymond Carver stories, you need to want and be able to steep your thoughts into his stories. They aren't cut and dried; his stories focus on conversation and meaning. And like any great short story, a second reading is essential, as you want to grasp it all without missing pieces to the puzzle. At times you may remain baffled at the end, wondering "what did I miss here". With Carver's other stories, a mysterious feeling floats throughout, as we delve into the mind of the characters, reading them, connecting to them, hating, losing, and loving, mending, changing, etc.
Carver's stories are a slice of Americana, and very often the characters experience pain, suffering, indulgence, insecurities, hope, despair, happiness, etc. etc. In this collection, they represent vendors, teachers, bakers, parents, alcoholics, farmers, landlords, chimney sweeps, etc. Often, we don't know what year it is, the location, ages, descriptions. Carver's characters are timeless, as he wants you to take the characters and settings wherever your mind travels. It is often challenging to search the phrase in the story that becomes the title, or why did Carver choose that title.
It's clear a couple of the gems here are "A Small Good Thing" reveals the state of miscommunication, tragedy and a laborious job of a baker. "Cathedral" reveals our fears and alienation to the unknown, in this case, of a blind man. A few other exceptional ones are "The Compartment" a train trip to Paris and its trivialities become the vehicle for a man unable to understand how he will greet his son, a young student he hasn't seen or communicated with in eight years. Their last encounter was a physical fight. This one is about a loss that, to me, that never will be found.
You can always connect with someone in the stories, whether it's physical or emotional, and if you are a loving parent struggling to find good childcare, "Fever" will touch you. If you haven't had a taste of a drying out facility, you will be intrigued by the inner demons of the patients in "Where I'm Calling From". "Careful" is another that revolves simply around conversation.
"Preservation" is the unfortunate unemployment and a broken refrigerator that sparks something else. Like "Cathedral", "Feathers" is a setting with friends visiting; it is that adept skill Carver possesses, conversation and dialogue. "Chef's House" reveals our hopes and dreams and then to have them shattered. Others include: "Vitamins", "The Bridle", and "The Train".
If you want to know who Raymond Carver is, his thoughts, writings, friends, family, colleagues, etc. Conversations with Raymond Carver (Literary Conversations Series)....Marrianne Rizzuto
Solid In a sense the book can be divided into thirds- four great tales, four solid-good tales, and four tales that needed work. In short, this is very reflective of RC as a writer. He is not the total snooze his worst detractors describe nor is he an unrivaled Modern Master as his boosters claim. He is, however, a good writer overall. What he might have achieved had he not pickled his brain with alcohol, nor died young, is unknown. He could have wasted his talents, or pushed them to greater heights.
In a sense nothing much happens to RC's characters, but how they react to such inaction is where the tales get their heft and weight. Failure in their realm is not necessarily failure to RC. But, it's no guarantee that it's a triumph, either. Sometimes a reader will not know whether an RC tale will succeed or fail until the tale is over because he can rescue a seemingly off-course story in a paragraph or two, and a character by a single detail.
His characters can be notable not for what they do but how they do it- by striking familiar chords with readers who are attracted and repulsed by aspects of their worst selves. In the four best tales- The Compartment, A Small, Good Thing, Fever, and Cathedral- RC's ability to navigate a reader through potential narrative dry spots is rewarded by the way each story ends, set up by the sometimes spare, sometimes detailed characterizations. At his worst RC can bore a reader, and leave them wondering what the hell the story was all about? But, at his best RC's tales are like those old family photos you flip through, years after the familiar faces have lost their name, but none of their ability to move. It's in the lacuna between name and motion RC touches greatness. Would that such absences were more abundant in his and others' works.
A Small, Good Thing If What We Talk About When We Talk About Love was a collection full of characters in the middle of losing it all, then Cathedral is a collection full of characters trying to get it all back, trying to salvage relationships of all types: marital ("Chef's House"), paternal ("The Compartment"), and edible ("Preservation"). Though, how hard the characters in the stories are trying is questionable, and the characters themselves might not even know. Somehow, Carver works that sort of angle wonderfully. It's a rare thing to read a story like "Preservation", where the outcome is two characters defeated, yes, but stuck in the sort of lockdown where their lack of comprehension doesn't hinder the reader's ability to understand the situation. Carver makes questions appear in boldface before answering them with another question: what now?
This collection doesn't necessarily move away from loss and focus completely on the upward hook of salvation, however. There's a "what now?" in all of these stories, but we still see Carver's characters lose and lose big time. We see tangible things taken away: a watch, a child, a wife, a refrigerator full of food, a borrowed house, etc. There's also the main losses found in most of Carver's stories: love, joy, and hope. The characters found here are just as hapless as any of his others (pick your favorite, they're all over the place. I've always had a soft spot for the boy in "Nobody Said Anything" and the man from "Viewfinder"). Carver's a f****** desolate dude, but he's learned to cope with this batch of stories. His characters learn. Not to discredit "Why Don't You Dance?", as I find it to be perfect story, but if it had appeared in Cathedral, I would assume that it wouldn't have shifted to the view of the couple at the end. We would have followed the man back into his house and watched his next move (or at least a hint of his next move). There wouldn't exactly be a lesson, but there would be something learned regardless (or at least the hint of something learned, something that indicates a conscious change). There would be a life beyond depression and drinking.
I don't think this is a perfect collection. I think it is flawed in the sense that some of the stories drag and a couple of them just aren't that good. A great writer like Carver can make dog s*** look like diamonds, but the smell gives it away. He dresses up "Careful" in his trademark shell, letting dialogue and setting tell the story of the failed marriage, the drinking problem, the dimwitted cry for help. It doesn't really do much, though. The story works, don't get me wrong. The ex-wife cleaning the ear to make him hear again -- to make things make sense again -- it functions. The dialogue is as great as always and the apartment comes across as a barren wasteland with hidden bottles of champagne scattered throughout it. Still, though, it ain't a diamond, and the stink of dog s*** is all over it. It's just not very interesting. I'll say the same thing about "The Train", as I picture it to be some sort of scene from an independent/foreign film where nothing happens except minor confusion and everyone thinks it's fantastic. "The Compartment" is a bit bland, and while I've heard that Carver sounds like every other American writing about being an American overseas, that's not even a problem compared to the fact that the same story could have been told in about half the time, assuming that Carver can stretch time in the span of a few pages and in such a way that we feel as if we've waited and pondered with the character for the hours he's spent waiting and pondering. The stories found within the prose stick to my ribs because of the skill used to write them, but I can't say they were very enjoyable to read and I can't say I care about them or the people in them.
That said, this collection contains some of Carver's best work. "Feathers" is a beautiful story (though it is, along with "A Small, Good Thing", guilty of dragging a bit) with a flash-forward at the end that encompasses all of the heartbreak that can be found in everyday life. It focuses on the unraveling point within the tedium of existence, proof that life does not often change in a grand sweeping story as found in a lot of literature, but as the effect of a dinner and a peacock. "Chef's House" is the shortest story in the book, and its eight pages do what "Careful" couldn't: give us the seed of a saved relationship and its inevitable destruction. "Preservation" didn't grab me at first, but the wife and the husband play off each other so well, that I can't help but feel the end somewhere between her ambition and hope and his complete lack of either. I melt with the food on the table. "A Small, Good Thing" has been anthologized a bunch, I'm sure, and with good reason: it's a kick *** story. As I mentioned, it drags a bit, and the half before the child's death could be trimmed. However, the story is so thick with metaphor and genuine sadness that it ranks among the classics. "Where I'm Calling From" is THE story when it comes to Carver and alcohol, and he tackles more than just the characters' demons from within the treatment center. For as much writing as he's done about drinking, "Where I'm Calling From" gives us the full spectrum, from the initial build to alcoholism to perhaps his most triumphant presentation of the "What now?" question. I'm still working "The Bridle" through in my head, but I have a feeling it's great. As for "Cathedral", it gets none more sweet than the final gift of clarity, the hover and ascent of a calming.
With the success of the longer stories in this collection, "Feathers" (24 pages), "A Small, Good Thing" (32 pages), "Where I'm Calling From" (20 pages), and "Cathedral" (19 pages), it makes me wonder about Gordon Lish's influence (or lack of, in this case) upon Carver's work. I've read articles about the Lish/Carver relationship, and it's disintegration around the time of the Cathedral stories is interesting for two reasons: 1) Carver gained a new confidence from both his success (owed in large part to Lish's desire for terseness and tightness) and (I'm assuming) the encouragement of Tess Gallagher. Carver believed in these stories as they stood, making his own decisions as far as the content as important a matter of life and death. 2) Carver may have been interested in the long form (novella/novel). There are rumors of an abandoned Carver novel (aside from the one found in "No Heroics, Please"), something I wouldn't think he'd tackle until he was severed from Lish. Of course, Carver believed the short story to stand on its own as more than just a primer for a novel (a shame he's in the minority, as I feel he'll eventually be forgotten as one of the great American writers of all time due to his never writing a 90+ page piece of fiction), but the fact that he considered the idea gives these longer stories a different perspective. Would Carver be able to sustain interesting and effective prose over the course of an entire novella/novel? Would the absence of Lish be detrimental to the success of the long work? Were these longer stories unconscious practice for a novel/novella?
Of course, these are all moot and unanswerable questions. The real focus here is the same as it always was, regardless of Lish. Carver pinpoints a moment in someone's life - just a moment, nothing special - and reveals it as the moment when everything changed. He is a true fiction writer, a writer who was able to find the seed of truth within the shell of a false reality. This particular collection finds Carver in search of the love, joy, and hope his characters have previously lost. This is redemption.
A Classic Collection Even Carver's least successful stories tap something essential and true that many writers spend a lifetime trying to reach once or twice. Stories in this collection like "A Small, Good Thing" and "Cathedral" are among the very best in literature. They are the ultimate in showing rather than telling, tapping emotion in unexpected ways just by showing us the way people live their lives. Sometimes they are faced with life-changing events, but more often they are just making their way from morning to night in their various desperate and oblivious ways. Carver says less about those lives than other authors would -- but, in doing so, he allows them to appear to speak for themselves. The result is often unbearably moving.
A hope-filled turn for a great American writer I read some of the stories in Cathedral during my undergraduate years, and upon my recent re-reading of the entire short story collection, I realize now how little I understood Raymond Carver's work back then. I have since read nearly all of Carver's stories, which, collectively, have come to represent a revival of the short story during the 1980s. Arguably, the short story has since fallen away again, but looking back at Carver gives me hope for the genre, that new work can still be done.
I have most often heard Carver's stories described as minimalist, short punctuations of reality, stripped of all ornament, so that only the meat and bones of the narrative remain. At the risk of mixing metaphors, Carver boils away and/or dissolves whatever can be left out or hidden. He cuts, cuts, and cuts some more. When you do that to your own writing, you can carve through all of your unnecessary words and see the true meaning - or so the theory of minimalism goes.
The world in Carver's Cathedral at times portrays among the starkest realities I can imagine. In his darker stories, like "Feathers," "The Compartment," and "The Train," Carver's characters are not human beings reduced to animals, but rather humans unveiled: We talk, move, drink, smoke, eat, love, dread, dream, and die. So much of our lives exists inside our heads, and I think Carver reveals what little we actually do in the world and how much we think and keep to ourselves. The result, in the majority of Cathedral, is a world fraught with miscommunication and terrible relationships. But Carver plows ahead into the depths of dark narratives bravely. He brings us along as if to show us, for the first time, what a dead body looks and smells like, and we know he isn't lying.
But then, in the middle of the collection, Carver takes a very small turn. He doesn't give up hopelessness entirely, but his characters seem to salvage some kind of rectitude in the larger waste of their lives in stories like "A Good, Small Thing," "Fever," and the title story, "Cathedral." These stories seem to me more mature and better crafted, because the endings aren't committed exclusively to happiness or dread, but rather to intellectual clarification of a profound moment in a character's life.
There's a reason why "Cathedral" is often anthologized among other great and representative stories. In the story, Carver portrays a sense of humor and irony that isn't as developed in the rest of the collection. The mythic quality of the story gives the reader a spiritual glimpse into what is otherwise mundane. We make beauty, the story seems to say.
What I like best about Carver's stories is his attention to only the essential. He doesn't have to provide a long description of the setting and time, because it's our time, our setting. We already know where we are in his stories, and we look to him to remind us where we are going.
Anything Goes Trivia
Megaton Man
Tailipoe
Trevor
