In definitiva, le parole sono tutto quello che abbiamo. Sono il mezzo attraverso cui comuniciamo, esprimiamo i nostri sentimenti, le nostre idee e le nostre emozioni. È quindi fondamentale che siano quelle giuste. La scelta delle parole giuste può fare la differenza tra essere capiti o non essere capiti, tra ottenere il risultato desiderato o no. Inoltre, la punteggiatura è altrettanto importante. Dev'essere posta nei posti giusti in modo che le parole possano dire nel modo migliore quel che devono dire. La punteggiatura può cambiare il significato di una frase, può dare enfasi a un particolare termine o può rendere una frase più chiara e comprensibile. Pertanto, è necessario prestare attenzione sia alle parole che alla punteggiatura quando scriviamo o parliamo. Solo così saremo in grado di comunicare efficacemente e di fare capire ciò che vogliamo dire.

The last story, “Too much water so close to home,” is truly a remarkable and thought-provoking piece.

It presents a challenging narrative that engages the reader from the very beginning. The author skillfully weaves together a tale that is both complex and engaging, exploring themes such as the power of nature, the vulnerability of human existence, and the importance of finding balance in our lives.

The story’s brilliance lies in its ability to make the reader reflect on their own relationship with the world around them. It forces us to consider the consequences of our actions and the impact that we have on the environment.

Overall, “Too much water so close to home” is a must-read for anyone who enjoys a good story that challenges their thinking and leaves them with a sense of wonder and awe.

Raymond Carver's collection, titled "Fires", is yet another remarkable offering. It consists of 4 essays, 50 poems, and 7 short stories.

I deviated from the "correct" reading order, starting with the poems, then moving on to the short stories, and concluding with the essays. However, I believe it would be ideal to begin with the essays. In this section, Carver shares his thoughts on his children, father, writing, and influences, providing valuable context for some of his poems and short stories. I was particularly drawn to the part where he describes being in a laundromat in Iowa City in the 60s, struggling financially with his wife, and realizing the significance of being a father of two.

The poems were also good, but as someone not overly passionate about poetry, they weren't the strongest aspect of the collection for me. The themes explored in the poems are similar to those in Carver's fiction, such as marital problems, alcoholism, hunting, and solitude (or the lack thereof).

I had read elsewhere that a couple of the short stories in this collection had been previously published in other works and were early drafts. I only recognized the final story, "So much water so close to home". The other stories that stood out to me were "The pheasant", "The lie", and "The cabin", which are all excellent examples of Carver's unrivaled mastery of the short story.

"Fires" can serve as a great introduction to Carver, allowing readers to sample various types of his writing. However, I still think the stories in "Will You Please Be Quiet, Please?" remain the best. Nevertheless, this is still a great collection and well worth exploring.

At the conclusion of this day, with proclamations of renewed hope in the youth and a better world, I retrieve this book, one of the two that have kept me company in the past few days. And I do so with the sole purpose of reminding my entire generation that when we were 20 years old, we too demonstrated to the tune of We are the World. Hunger in the world existed then and still does now, but it was nice to have the illusion that a procession or a concert could change things. However, more deeply, even in those years, we were learning a great lesson in life, the one subtly imparted to us by Raymond Carver and the other American minimalists who, in the pages of their books, taught us that the common denominator that binds all of us men and women is not fame, but anonymity, not exceptionality, but mediocrity, not redemption, but habituation. Written by me, these are detestable things. Written by Carver, they are a caress on the head, a hand on the shoulder, a warm breeze that illuminates our solitude and our despair, in the only way that love is capable of doing. It is a love without judgment - or rather: it is a love that begins with the judgment of oneself and that finds in that the strength to raise our eyes from our imperfections to see them in others and to find from here, from this common, tattered baggage devoid of flattery, the necessary strength not to endure it, but to share its weight. And perhaps make it appear even lighter.

You keep your influencers. I read Carver, more and more every day.