I really like to read about literary movements and influences and then write about them. However, I don't think it makes sense to do that in the case of Carver. Something different happened here.

So, in 2020 for Christmas, I decided to spend the money I needed for bills on books. And when I say I decided, I don't mean I sat down and thought about it. I mean when I got to the cashier with 7 or 8 books that I couldn't leave behind and the girl asked me if I had decided which ones, I said "ALL", kind of hungry. Because 1 I had the money, it was mine, who would stop me, 2 it was Christmas and 3 finally I understood so much, I did so much. For Carver, I was in between two and the girl told me that he wrote "The Elephant" in his alcoholic phase. So I took "The Elephant".

I started with expectations and along the way I fell. On the way to and from work, I read and saw Bukowski's vulgar realism without the sex. That is, without what was familiar to me. I was trying to understand "so this is it. He writes minimal."

But somewhere it hit. This is how minimal is, after all, it hits where you least expect it. I read the story "The Elephant" and in the midst of laughter and sadness, I thought my father should read it. He would like it a lot. However, my father doesn't read, he would return it to me. After unsuccessful attempts, I decided to record myself. I don't know if my voice is suitable for something like this, but that's what happened. Many tries, a lot of stuttering, a lot of nerves. But eventually it happened. 38 minutes and 19 seconds. When my father came, he was watching basketball with headphones, but my mother wanted to listen to it and made us listen to it together (scary to hear your own voice). He laughed and was sad. The "haha" and the "oh, poor me". I laughed, not because of the story, I already know that by heart. But because Carver managed to do this.

Late at night, a message came from my father: "Bring me the book tomorrow, I'll read it, 'The Elephant'. On Saturday."

Carver's writing, with its intimate and nostalgic prose, sketches the chiaroscuro of life.

He highlights a certain palette of ocher and sober colors when writing, aiming to evoke the continuous rhythm of time in an almost autumnal and static atmosphere. His stories are like a moment in eternity, reminding us not only of our mortality but also of an ordinary existentialism based on reminiscence or the memories of yesterday.

Under this premise, the selection of stories in "Three Yellow Roses" reveals the musings of the more mature and aged Carver (in a good sense, like that of fine wines). It offers seven twilight (metaphorically speaking), doubting, introspective, and reflective stories. In these, the most common and daily situations are presented from the perspective of the characters, who experience them in an almost extreme way (without exaggeration). To extract the richness of each of these stories, I think it is important to transcend what is told. Sometimes, if not always, Carver offers us fragmented stories where only a few things, feelings, or ideas about what happens to the characters are told, which requires the reader to fill in the suggestive and dark spaces. Therefore, his narrative is never entirely linear, and it holds a lot of weight in terms of the enjoyment and understanding of reading, the way the reader fills in each story.

Here is my personal evaluation of each of the stories:

"Boxes" (5/5) - A story about the complex and difficult relationship between a mother, son, and daughter-in-law. I think it is one of the best in the selection, with solid arguments and reflections that make one think about the themes of old age, loneliness, and dependence. In my opinion, it is essential.

"Whoever Has Slept in This Bed" (3/5) - It is about a couple who receive phone calls in the early morning. It is a somewhat introspective and curious story. It is not the best that Carver has written, but I highlight the communicative mechanics between the couple. At times, it reflects on illness and death.

"Intimacy" (2/5) - It is about the unexpected visit of a man to his conflicted ex. I'll leave it there. I think it is the worst story in the collection. I say this mainly because it is not only linear and almost a monologue of one of the characters but also because I think the same story could have been more. At times, it seems that Carver wants to suggest things like "mental peace," "toxicity of the couple," and a long etc. that didn't quite gel with me.

"Pretty" (4/5) - It is about the risks and concerns that infidelity brings. It is a very open and introspective story. Personally, I liked the way the affective relationship universe of the main character is described and the consequences of it. The end, if one can speak of one, is somewhat ambiguous. A good story.

"The Elephant" (5/5) - It is about a man who lends money knowing that it will never be returned. It is a great story, although the main character has generated some annoyance and discomfort in me, not because he is naïve but because he has a particular way of seeing life, where the economic dependence of others on him is not so much the product of the irresponsibility of others (alone) but rather the psychological need of this man to help them. Now, having said this, the story discusses the theme of parasitism in family relationships and how this creates a morbid dependence, both in the one who asks and in the one who gives the money. The theme of responsibilities is also treated, but not in a linear way but in a doubting way. On the other hand, although the end is somewhat ambiguous (like almost all of Carver's), I think the story closes masterfully, with one of those reflections that make us approach our fellow human beings in a humanitarian key. Without a doubt, another essential story in the book.

"Horses in the Fog" (4/5) - A story that tries to be mysterious and cryptic. It is about a man who reads a letter that was left under the door of his study. I'll leave it there. I highlight the setting and some strange moments in it. At times, it feels like a narrative proposal by Carver that, due to its ambition, leaves the reader too expectant, without the story quite gelling. I don't say that reading it was a disappointment, but it wasn't what I expected. I think the story could have been much more.

"Three Yellow Roses" (5/5) - It is about the last years of the writer Anton Chekhov's life. It is exquisitely written. Despite what is told, it is more biographical than anything else, but it has its moments of introspection and beauty. In my opinion, the story deals with the difficult theme of the mortality of the immortal (I refer to the legacy and image of the Russian short story writer) and the ephemeral nature of life, beyond this last aspect. An excellent story.

In conclusion, highly recommended.

Raymond Carver's collection of short stories is truly one of the all-time greats. In this particular volume, he presents seven more captivating situations that pry into the depths of our lives, revealing insights, weird humor, beauty, and horror.

For example, in "Boxes", a man's mother's constant moving around the country drives him to the brink of madness. It's a relatable situation that many of us might find ourselves in.

"Whoever was using this bed" tells the story of a couple who are awakened at three in the morning by a wrong number that keeps ringing back. Their long, rambling conversation leads them to realize their shared fears of illness, death, and other things.

"Intimacy" features a writer who drops in unannounced on his ex-wife. She insults him at length, but he eventually asks for and receives forgiveness.

"Menudo" explores the guilt of a man having an affair with his neighbor's wife.

In "Elephant", a guy's life is made miserable by having to constantly bail out his ex-wife, mother, son, and brother from their financial troubles.

"Blackbird Pie" tells the story of a really aggravating guy who receives a 23-page letter from his wife, with whom he is still living, announcing that she is going to leave him. He keeps insisting that the letter is not in her handwriting.

Finally, "Errand" chronicles the death of Chekhov.

If you haven't read Raymond Carver before, this collection is a great place to start. I would give it six stars if I could!

“What could I say? I didn't know what to say. I couldn't even talk about the weather. The weather was an extremely delicate topic. We said goodbye and hung up.

“And if that's the case, I must understand that I am now outside history. Like the horses and the fog. Or it could be said that my history has left me. Or that I have to continue living without history. Or that history will have to do without me from now on, unless my wife writes more letters, or tells her things to a friend who keeps a diary.

Then, years later, someone may come back to this time, interpret it from written documents, from scattered fragments and long speeches, from silences and veiled accusations. And it is when the idea germinates in me that autobiography is the history of the poor unfortunate. And that I am saying goodbye to history. Goodbye, my beloved.

This collection of stories is much longer than in the previous works. Perhaps it was left as Carver wanted. It is a masterfully precise narrative display, done conscientiously. As I understand it, he revised the stories up to thirty times, racking his brains to execute the final blow that stands out in his stories. A story within another, but that does not tell what seems simple at first glance. It doesn't surprise me that he is a reference for writing stories, nor does it surprise me that he is a reference for telling stories. What a magician Carver was. Throughout the works I have read of his, I can affirm, without fear, that he is my favorite short story writer, an absolute and masterful control of the short story. Of course, I have other short story writers that I love, but basically they owe a lot to Carver, including Roberto Bolaño. I still don't understand how this person had so much control over what he wrote. He didn't exactly write stories, I can qualify it as a work of literary art. Absolute stories.