Had to read for uni. Was okay. Didn't really grab my attention, but it was very short so quick enough to get through. ( )

Brilliant. I like it that he was one of John Gardner's students. ( )

Raymond Carver.

Holy shit.

I knew he was a well-known author, so I picked up this small volume of collected stories from the library on a whim. This collection is the last collection he ever published before he died, so it's interesting to start from the end.

Carver writes about the American working class of the 1950's, warts and all. His characters smoke, drink, fuck, get divorced, argue and fall in love. From what I understand, his stories were often edited or, gentrified, almost? I'm not sure about these 7 stories, but they were certainly raw and unashamedly intimate.

What astonished me, as an aspiring writer is how similar a lot of the stories are (a husband, a wife, talking in a house, often at night, miscommunication, reading over letters) and yet they're all somehow vastly different and powerful. How do you do that, Carver?

The stories are all so domestic and ugly and unembellished. It's as if you're looking into someone's family home and watching their comings and goings while Carver stands beside you, narrating what's happening.

I so admire his craft, how he uses such spare language to be so emotive. He's hard and soft and gentle and angsty and just... just...

Ugh. I don't hate you Carver, but you know how to hurt me, and somehow I love you for it? ( )

Brilliant. I like it that he was one of John Gardner's students. ( )

A nice collection, full of well written stories, but it's hard to tell if I like it for its own merits or because I feel obliged to. ( )