I had to read this for university and I really hated it. The content was so dry and uninteresting. It seemed to go on and on without making any real points. I found myself constantly losing focus and having to reread paragraphs just to try and understand what was being said. It was a real struggle to get through it all. I don't know if it was the subject matter or the way it was written, but either way, it was not an enjoyable experience for me. That is all there is to say about it.

I remember the first time I came across the name Carver. It was in a college story magazine that my brother had brought home. A review of a Carver story, which didn't really grip me much. I was young, fifteen or sixteen years old, eager and without guidance.

Unlike James Joyce and Faulkner, whom I made the mistake of approaching at that young age and turned what could have been a pleasure into a horror, luckily for me, other than that review, I didn't get my hands on anything else by Carver. Carver became a symbol of modern story for me, without my having read anything of his.

Now, after twelve years, after reading the book "Modern Stories" by Hossein Payandeh (a book from which I learned a lot), I felt it was time to read Carver. And indeed it was time, and the result was stories that I read easily, painlessly, and with pleasure.

The reason I said "now it's time" is not because I think Carver has a godlike status in my eyes and only a select few can understand his words. No. But there's something about myself: I realized that my mindset and my expectations of something have a huge impact on my experience of that thing. If my expectations and my mindset are wrong, I'll have a bad experience with that thing or think it's worthless. Whereas if I change my expectations and know what I'm going to face, I can easily get along with that thing and even take pleasure from it. And I think after reading the book "Modern Stories" by Hossein Payandeh, my mindset towards modern story has finally taken the right shape.

Splendid book! I wonder how well the texts collected in this volume can "sound" in English, since in Romanian they "sound" impeccably! Applause for the translator >> Horia Florian Popescu.

The stories flow effortlessly, as if they would tell themselves. The dialogues - taken from the immediate daily life, nothing pompous, nothing theatrical, nothing absurd. When reading it, the book gets into your head - a perfect, dizzying illusion that you are writing (inventing) it yourself while reading it.

Carver's realism is so prominent, yet discreet, insinuating, that it ends up numbing your senses, while still maintaining a persistent feeling of alertness - as sometimes happens to us when we wake up after having a too realistic dream.

How can you write so "seamlessly" and be sure that this also resounds in the languages into which the book is translated? Never have I come across a pastoral volume of short prose that was conceived in such a unified, equal-valued way. Surely it is difficult to compare even some American writers with Carver, but...

Every letter is in its exact place. Every punctuation mark. Every idea to be shared. Every suspension, the ellipses, the silences, the unsaid.

Literature does not only consist of excreting a text while being seized by a burst of inspiration. You must also know what you are willing to give up, to cut without mercy, to polish, to come back, to double yourself by reciting. Not to keep everything you have defecated, advice to the Romanians!

How can someone write so well and the value of their work be so easily "transferable" into a borrowed language? I repeat these things like a broken machine. How can short prose acquire such a force of penetration, such a concentration of intelligence, a sharp spirit of observation, in such a small space (or maybe it is precisely the small space that bends/obliges to refinements of this kind, to the detriment of the general temptation to linger too much in one's own lexical and ideological diary)?

I declare myself fascinated! Carver's "What We Talk About When We Talk About..." did not delight me in the same way, I must say.

You can only part with an infinite regret from "Cathedral" after you turn the last page.

P.S. I hasten to add that I do not despise the Romanian authors in corpore, but I definitely reject - in some of them - that self-sufficiency that tempts them not to give up anything of what they put on paper. You have the feeling, sometimes, that for ours it is more important, than writing well and being self-demanding, the "elegant" and snobbish clique of the MacBook keyboard, procured with great financial difficulties... And to be seen, on the terrace, writing on that MacBook (there are some Romanians who have also produced short prose about this!).

Talent may exist, but too often it dies suffocated by the ego (the ego that whispers to you perfidiously that a text is always good, just as it comes out of your first attempt).

Unlimited Symbols


“It's just that, you know, when writing stories, our worst enemies are only ourselves, you see? Either we put in things that are really not necessary, that the reader can do very well without - for we can assume that the reader fills our gaps on his own - or we hide what really matters. In short, in my opinion, everything is already here.” From The Art of Writing


Raymond Carver tells you possible and real things. His voice is so intense, authentic, and specific that it makes them appear as anomalies or epiphanies or inevitable completions. In these stories, one can admire the compositional excellence and the stylistic wonder of the author from Oregon, who depicts an anonymous daily life of actions and thoughts collected and revealed in universality and singularity. Completeness of vision and depth of dialogue explore the ambiguities and secrets of human experience, suggest new and surprising forms, behind questions and answers that seem to scrutinize in the background, like silent presences. Carver writes a map of human existence to know pain and seek a way to tell what to do about it: emotional perturbations, parallel truths, forgotten catastrophes, hidden moralities, suspended wills; latent desires, unknown insecurities, inner conflicts, essential losses. Inside the traces, symptoms, shadows, echoes, and testimonies of life in the necessary survival, in the unpredictable duration, and in the progressive marginality, the writer from Clatskanie places an exclusive and implicit space where to meet ourselves and rediscover the uniqueness of character and the definition of a shared meaning, recognizing and discovering in others the many interior parts removed, denied, and temporarily lost. With Carver, there is a simple and decisive way to get out of nothing and finally feel alive. Everywhere and elsewhere.

Bene. Adesso so che nei prossimi mesi potrò fare una cosa bellissima: leggere tutti gli altri racconti di Carver.

Carver's works have always fascinated me with their unique charm and profound insights. His stories are like windows into the human soul, revealing the complex emotions and experiences that we all share.

By reading all of his other stories, I hope to gain a deeper understanding of his writing style and the themes that he explores. I believe that each story will offer a new perspective and a new opportunity for growth and reflection.

Moreover, reading Carver's stories is not only a literary experience but also a source of inspiration. His ability to capture the essence of life in a few simple words is truly remarkable, and I hope to learn from his example and apply what I have learned to my own writing.

In conclusion, I am looking forward to spending the next few months immersed in the world of Carver's stories. I know that it will be a rewarding and enriching experience, and I can't wait to see where it takes me.

Raymond Carver's magnificent collection of short stories contains the entire soul of 1960s America. This was my first encounter with this author, and it made me completely fall in love with him.

It's a dive into the existence of ordinary people, the people of every day, with their aspirations, their ambitions, their life events, their routines, their misunderstandings, their failures, and their frustrations.

As soon as I started reading "Cathedral," I immediately intuited that I had a complex book in my hands, not immediate and not easy to understand, despite the simplicity of the language. In fact, in every story, there is a sense of a suspended backdrop, an unspoken preface that requires the reader to have intuition and imagination so that the reading can be fully understood and appreciated.

If this happens, Carver will communicate a great deal. Among the best stories are "A Small, Good Thing" and "Cathedral," which will know how to capture the heart of the reader.

In conclusion, a unique and wonderful book that encloses life within it, telling the most with the least: a book for everyone and about everyone but not for everyone.

On finishing this magnificent collection, I am truly moved. Carver is indeed a gem.

The final story, in particular, strikes a chord deep within me. I vividly recall spending countless hours in college with a guy who was completely blind, just like a stone. We would stay up late into the night, much like in "Cathedral," passing the hooch around and engaging in profound conversations about being blind, seeing, colors, and sounds.

What a tragic loss it was when Carver passed away at such an early age! Oh, the pain of that loss still lingers.

I have now read the three collections, and the sense of sadness that there isn't another one available just seems to smother my heart. Well, I know there are seven more stories in "Where I'm Calling From," and perhaps one day I'll be fortunate enough to find a copy of that.

But for now, I can only say that having spent these hours with Carver is a lot like having spent them, dare I say it, in a Cathedral. It's a spiritual and enriching experience that leaves a lasting impression.

Kaaterskill Falls is a collection of short stories consisting of 12 stories by the American writer "Raymond Carver", and I found in them something that makes me eager to read it again.

Most of the stories had a quiet nature of the characters and events. There were no sudden events or psychotic characters, for example. It was as if the stories only carried a single slice of life, a perspective from one direction, and even the time frame for each story did not exceed a few days. Therefore, you will find that most of the endings of the collection of short stories are open, as if the author allowed us to taste the lives of these characters and then be expelled from them. What we have read is enough to understand the perspective of this life, and what will happen next is left for us to contemplate. Even the historical backgrounds of the characters, we try to deduce them from the detailed events most of the time.

A collection of short stories written with literature and translated skillfully. This does not prevent that there are in it the characteristics of collections of short stories in general, which is: the difference in the quality of the stories. There are stories that I felt attracted to them, and I empathized with them, and there are stories that I did not feel anything towards them. Among my favorites in the collection of short stories are:

- Feathers.

- Cathedral.

- The Third Thing That Killed My Father Off.

- A Small, Good Thing.

- Kaaterskill Falls (the best story in the collection in my opinion).

Piccole poesie sono raccontate in un linguaggio essenziale, concreto ed efficace. Sono davvero degne di essere lette. I miei racconti preferiti sono stati "una cosa piccola ma buona", "cattedrale", "Conservazione" e "la casa di Chef".

Penne ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

La casa di chef ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Conservazione ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Lo scompartimento ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Una cosa piccola ma buona

The title Story "Cathedral" is one of the best American stories of last century.

The theme revolves around the communication gap that isolates relationships. The narrator, who drinks excessively, struggles to communicate effectively with his wife. His wife, having earlier attempted suicide due to loneliness, also fails to have a meaningful connection with him. However, she freely and well communicates with the blind man, Robert. The narrator is initially resistant to knowing Robert and resents his presence. Only Robert seems capable of forming lasting human connections. "Cathedral" ends with a glimmer of hope. Although there is no certainty that the narrator will overcome his isolation, for the moment, he experiences communion with himself and another human being.

The narrator's limited knowledge prevents the reader from seeing the blind man's feelings. Early on, the narrator is rude and inconsiderate, making remarks like "what side of the train did you sit on?" and commenting on color TV. Carver uses the narrator's prejudices to reflect the many prejudices in today's society. The author sympathizes with the wife, and readers can sense her embarrassment as she covers up for the narrator's mistakes. The author's tone makes readers dislike the narrator, thus desiring a change in him. The symbols in the story, such as the cathedral representing unity and common belief, and the touching of the face symbolizing trust, help identify the theme. The irony is that it takes a blind man to make a seeing man see. The theme emerging from these elements is that all people are equal, and what one lacks can be compensated for in other ways.

The story is about one man's understanding and acceptance of a blind man. The narrator embodies the dominant theme of overcoming prejudice through personal experience and mutual respect. Cathedrals, as spiritual houses of God, are a massive architectural symbol. Robert, a religious man, confronts the narrator, who doesn't believe in God or have much purpose. The subject of cathedrals forces the narrator to recognize his alienation, and Robert gives him the opportunity to realize his potential for vision, insight, and creative energy. This is a liberating experience for the narrator, leading him to tell his story.

The story also reflects hope for personal growth, as the narrator has an epiphany at the end, realizing he can communicate with the blind man and feeling alive in many ways.

Another touching story in this book is "A small good thing," which Carver considered his best. I would also suggest trying his poetry. He was a truly gifted poet with terrific insights.

I have a deep affection for Raymond Carver's short stories. However, after delving into three of his collections, I can't help but think that with practice, anyone could potentially write in a similar vein. It seems to be a style that is relatively easy to imitate. I suppose Raymond Carver was just the first to master it. So, kudos to him.

In this collection, I had a particular liking for several stories.

"Feathers" - Two couples come together for a dinner. At the hosts' house, there is a peacock. Carver has a knack for using animals to introduce an element of creepiness into his narratives. I vividly remember a short story titled "What's in Alaska?" where a cat terrifies one of the characters.

"Chef's House" and "Preservation" shared similar themes. They revolved around people who had passed their prime. Diseased individuals simply existing, grappling with issues such as unemployment, alcoholism, and relocation. Carver has the remarkable ability to evoke a sense of sadness within the reader without relying on excessive verbiage.

"Vitamins" - This was an excellent short story about an alcoholic couple. It was perhaps my favorite among them all. The main character could easily have stepped out of a Bukowski short story.

"Fever" - A man struggles to strike a balance between his job and taking care of his kids after his wife abandons him.

As I delved into the short story Cathedral for the very first time, it simply didn't cross my mind that this could potentially be a narrative with religious undertones. This might seem rather foolish in hindsight, considering the story's title is Cathedral. However, during that initial reading, I couldn't help but fixate on the most prominent aspects from the outset.

Evidently, the protagonist (whom I don't believe is ever explicitly named) is envious of the blind man and his relationship with the protagonist's wife. The protagonist believes that this connection is the cause of his wife's possible divorce from her first husband, a person the narrator deliberately denies a name to (the narrator/main character remarks, "Why should he have a name?"; and indeed, why should he, when the narrator himself isn't even given a name). So, during my initial encounter with this story, I perceived it more in terms of the transformation of the main character, who discovers a similar kind of human bond with the blind man as his wife has.

When I revisited the story for a second reading, the religious themes became more evident to me. The main character is in a state of distress about something (he awakens with night terrors). He doesn't hold a belief in religion and perhaps looks down to some extent on the blind man's "church wedding." The beard on the blind man could also carry some religious significance. The main character scoffs, "A beard on a blind man! Too much, I say." And then, later on, the wife gives the main character a disapproving look for making fun of the act of saying grace.

So, it was only upon my second reading that it dawned on me that the final scene (which I won't disclose to avoid spoiling it) could have been something akin to a religious experience for the main character. There is, of course, also something profoundly sensual about the final scene, with the wife asking, "What are you doing?", and the roles of the husband and wife now reversed.

I suppose the hallmark of any great story lies in having symbols and events that can be interpreted in multiple ways. I hope other readers find the same joy and delight in this story as I did.