. Spinning .

Forty pages into this particular story and I’ve learned this: A young man has been caught with having had a girl other than his fiancee in his car a week before his wedding, as they’ve had an automobile accident.  The girl took off through the woods immediately following the collision and is missing now for several days.

The time of the telling is a past reflection; the narrator has gone ahead and married his fiancee despite his worries at the time that the incident may have changed her mind.  We’re not sure however, that the girl who was with him has survived the winter storm in the woods.  Everyone is secretive. 

But the real story here appears to be the difference in the two women as to social status, and in particular, how the men of the story view them.  There is (to my mind) too much emphasis placed on this point, almost a "methinks (s)he doth protest too much" attitude in protecting the reputation of this missing girl, and the focus on who is marriage material and who is not; even as all are almost condescendingly protective.

The conflict started with the accident; the tension continues with the possibility of his broken engagement–although he sees his fiancee as quite mature and understanding, and the question of why the girl has taken off, and of course, if she is safe.  But the majority of words have been spent on the narrator’s explanation of how women were considered back in the 40s and their social standing not only in the South, but in the area of their male counterparts as well as the women of other groupings.

A bit much; I think it might have been more briefly told.

The second story in this anthology is the title story and is a long one so I figured I’d start writing on it rather than waiting until I finish.

This one is first person pov, the narrator being a young man, just out of college recently and working for his father’s business.  He will be getting married within a week.  His problem: he has had a minor vehicular accident, but had a girl in the car whom he has yet to sever relations prior to being married. The tone of the story is one of that annoying poor little rich boy dilemmas that I really fail to find empathy with. 

There is also a long drawn out setting up of scenario and introduction of who the other characters are and how they tend to behave. 

Hopefully there’ll be a bit more excitement or drama to the story to hold my interest.

Mitchell’s Black Swan Green hasn’t grabbed my full attention so I’ve taken out as well this collection of short stories by Peter Taylor that I’ve had for years–since a creative writing class and a recommendation by the instructor.

The first story, The Gift of The Prodigal is wonderfully written, starting out with the immediate tension of the first person narrator, a widower watching his grown, always-in-some-kind-of-trouble son approaching his front door.  The detail here reinforces the character:

There’s Ricky down in the washed river gravel of my driveway.  I had my yardman out raking it before 7 a.m.–the driveway.  It looks nearly perfect.  Ricky also looks nearly perfect down there.  (…) looks as though he feels perfectly at home in that driveway of mine that was so expensive to install and that requires so much upkeep. (p.11)

This is so telling of the relationship that is revealed further through the story.  It sets the background as one of wealth (“my yardman”) and establishes tension between father and son.  As he watches, we are given the information that Ricky has always been the problem child, and that the father has always bailed him out–much to the chagrin of his other children, daughters who have married well (in contrast with Ricky’s three marriages and many affairs) and who show their love for their father more easily than Ricky has managed to do.

The narrator misses his wife, and appears to give her a bit of the blame for his “safe harbor” handling of Ricky’s escapades, even as he continues to do so after her death.  He is obviously a man of power and has taken action against Ricky’s accusers and enemies.  As he waits patiently to do so yet again, we wonder if this will be the last time.

There is a twist at the end, and yet one that in reading the story carefully through the ‘voice’ of the narrator, should become obvious.  It reminds me of Carver’s Cathedral as we discover the truth in action rather than what the narrator reveals to us.  Beautifully done.