I'm not even worthy to review this book! I can't quite put it into words what was so great about it! I'm scared to read anything else by the guy for fear that it won't be as good!

How did he do it? How did he capture that feeling that we all have, that this tenuous existence is all we have after sin and hell and all that have ceased to exist... and that those things ceased to exist because we were bad and didn't believe in them, and now we'll be sorry because we're UNLUCKY and we'll all die... Or that goosebumpy feeling that you blinked and life is OVER behind your back and nothing is what you thought it was... that you hate everyone, that you love everyone, that if you could only love perfectly enough, life would be enough, that if you could only breathe deeply enough, you could stop time before the Polish immigrant from the neighboring farm poisons your children's pet rabbit... ah, I could go on. But I shan't.

I WOULD like to point out, however, on behalf of all suburban housewives, one of which I once was, that suburban housewives do not always burn the dinner because of buried hostility or neurosis or hatred of their hubs. It is really hard to make dinner and care for a baby or toddler at the same time. That is just a legitimately difficult thing to do. Especially when the dinner is for someone who hasn't given you an accurate estimate of when he will be home. But that is not at all relevant to my critique of this beloved book which I waited WAY too long to read and which I am almost afraid to re-read.

My favorite stories were "The Swimmer" and the one where the guy clobbers his brother on the beach with a rock. And the one about the piano teacher who was a witch! This book is truly a masterpiece. It delves deep into the human psyche, exploring our fears, our loves, and our insecurities. The author has a unique ability to make us feel as if we are right there in the story, experiencing everything along with the characters. Each story is filled with vivid descriptions and complex emotions that leave a lasting impression. I highly recommend this book to anyone who loves to read and wants to be transported to another world.

There are indeed some good moments that shine through.

However, by and large, this particular thing seems to be too firmly fixed within a prosaic reality.

It lacks that certain spark or excitement that would truly grab my attention and hold it captive.

The ordinary nature of it all makes it difficult for me to become fully engaged or invested.

It feels as if it is stuck in a rut, unable to break free and soar to greater heights.

Perhaps with a little more creativity or a fresh perspective, it could be transformed into something truly remarkable and captivating.

But as it stands now, it fails to make a lasting impression on me.

Marvelous American Chekhov.

Interestingly, there are two names that also have a homophony of pronunciation: Cheever – Chekhov.

Cheever is the Chekhov of American bourgeoisie.

Despite all the spatio-temporal differences, there are some affinities between the two authors. Firstly, for the rich production of both. For Cheever, we have around 61 stories, and for the Russian, there are 250 official ones, long stories that expand even for dozens of pages. For the completeness of the stories, for the meticulousness in narrative construction and the physical sketch of the characters; precise, realistic, and effective writings, with a proper weight of poetry that does not easily yield to inconsistency.

Cheever's stories have a clear plot and (finally) an epilogue. Farewell to those open endings that leave all the dirty work to the reader. These are epilogues that offer a sense of completeness that never translates into satiety, boredom, or deja-vu. And even if the best rule at the table is to get up still hungry, with Cheever, being full means remaining satisfied but still wanting more without feeling bad. And after the end of each story, turn the page and voraciously plunge into the next one.

Whether he talks about a family where it seems that the bonds between grown siblings have remained idyllically intact as in childhood (when in reality it is never like that); whether he talks about a provincial couple that arrives unprepared in New York, deluded into doing business without sweat or effort; or about a girl who gets lost on the streets of Manhattan, finally obliging her parents to notice her; or again when he tells about a radio with a defective frequency that captures the voices of the neighbors and makes us penetrate the squalor of their existences, neighbors first envied when in the hallway of the building they swaggered, self-assured as if they had always been engaged in the accomplishment of great enterprises; whether when Cheever warns us of the danger of returning to the places where one has been happy...

Cheever has a myriad of stories to tell. He never wallows in himself but is capable of renewing himself with each story.

With the rare merit of not being a desperate author doomed to the destruction of himself and his characters, he never completely succumbs to those excesses that sometimes make us feel too distant from the stories we read, as if to think "but yes, after all, we are better" and if we drink, it is only because we like wine without becoming alcoholics, and if we have economic difficulties, we do not solve them with suicide, and even if our couple is a real disaster, we will still try to rise above it. After all, someone sang "There are also happy gypsies" and between his pages, a small glimmer of light can be seen that opens a gap in the gray conformism of the residential suburbs where many stories are set.

The volume I read collects about a dozen stories. There are still about fifty more waiting for me in as many volumes published by Feltrinelli. There's no hurry, and what beauty!

I had to admit that before getting this volume, I hadn't delved deeply into Cheever's works. I had only read a few stories sporadically, among which was The Swimmer. This particular story had a profound and lasting impact on me, leaving me with an unsettling feeling that still lingers.

What truly fascinates me about Cheever is his remarkable ability to avoid being confined to a single domain, be it geographical or literary. Instead, he effortlessly flitted between the lives of Americans from all walks of life and social classes. His characters resided in bustling cities, peaceful countryside, and suburban neighborhoods. Moreover, they often found themselves in a state of ennui while in Paris or Italy. Throughout his works, there are certain motifs that continuously emerge. Recurring characters and fictional communities give the impression that these stories seamlessly blend together, forming a cohesive fictional world. It's as if there is a little microcosm within Cheever's mind that serves as a remarkable reflection of the anxious postwar America that existed outside.

Goodbye, My Brother

Oh, what can one truly do with a man like that? It's a conundrum. How is it possible to dissuade his eyes, in the midst of a crowd, from constantly seeking out the cheek with acne, the infirm hand? How can one teach him to respond to the inestimable greatness of the human race, to the harsh yet surface beauty of life? And how can one put his finger for him on the obdurate truths before which fear and horror hold no power?

The sea that morning was a sight to behold. It was iridescent and dark, as if hiding countless mysteries within its depths. My wife and my sister were swimming - Diana and Helen. I saw their uncovered heads, one black and the other gold, bobbing in the dark water. I witnessed them come out of the sea, and to my surprise, they were naked. They were unshy, their beauty and grace on full display. And I watched, transfixed, as the naked women walked out of the sea, a scene that would forever be etched in my memory.

What a remarkable craftsman!

His creations are like cerebral and sad little gems. Each piece seems to hold a story, a hidden emotion that only those with a keen eye can perceive. The delicacy and precision with which he works are truly astonishing. It's as if he is breathing life into inanimate objects, transforming them into works of art that can touch the hearts of those who behold them. One can't help but wonder what goes on in his mind as he meticulously shapes and molds each gem. Is it a reflection of his own inner turmoil or a manifestation of his deep understanding of the human condition? Whatever the case may be, his craftsmanship is a testament to his talent and dedication. These cerebral and sad little gems are not just beautiful objects; they are a window into the soul of the craftsman.

I gave this collection a three-star rating, but truth be told, I'd lean it closer to four stars. The writing itself is truly excellent, and there's no disputing Cheever's talent. However, short stories simply aren't my preferred genre, and I generally find these kinds of complete collections of an author's lifetime work to be rather tedious and disjointed. This collection is no exception.

The stories, on the whole, are mostly good. But when you have a collection of 61 stories spanning an author's entire life, there are bound to be some duds among the gems. And that's definitely the case here. I suppose it's interesting to witness an author's creative evolution and moments of experimentation with the format, but it also affects one's perception of the inconsistent quality of the stories at times.

I particularly relished the stories that had a more coherent plot line and narrative trajectory. On the other hand, I didn't especially enjoy the strange experimental structures of some of the stories and the disarray of others. For example, just looking at a few examples from the last few stories. I found the story about Artemis the well digger to be wonderful and coherent, but I thought the very last story about the Cabots was narratively messy and all over the place. It's this kind of unevenness that explains my average ranking.

Also, I must admit, I'm just about done with the theme of the unhappy, seedy, suburban white philandering professional angsty male story. I understand that Cheever is writing from his own knowledge and experience base, but really, the constant centrality of this character in the storytelling universe is so hackneyed and pretentious nowadays. Who truly cares about the supposed sorrows, grief, and "hardships" of a person whose life was, frankly, anything but that when you get right down to it. Again, I recognize Cheever's talent, but I'm glad to be finished with this. I've had my fill of his milieu and character types for a good, long while. Worthy of a Pulitzer? Perhaps. I can see the merits of the argument defending the choice. But it makes me feel relieved and glad to think that the Pulitzer selection committee would likely never again consider this kind of story interesting enough to win.

They say in April, National Poetry Month, "one poem a day won't hurt you." This book isn't poetry, but I followed the mantra anyway.

I read one story a day between September 1 and October 31, 61 stories in all. I didn't absolutely love them all, but I'd be hard put to say there was even one clunker. I will confess that toward the end of October I started thinking that 45 stories would have been enough. This may have affected my thinking that the last few stories weren't as good as those prior.

Most of the earliest stories take place in New York or its suburbs. Included are his stories from other collections, including one I'd read previously The Housebreaker of Shady Hill and Other Stories. There are other stories that take place in Italy. There is at least one story late in the collection that takes place aboard a 707. With few exceptions, the characters are all upper middle class.

At some point I remarked to myself that his opening lines were pretty darned good. I wished I'd marked some of the earlier ones, but I didn't think of it. There is just something about them that drew me in and had me wondering where what could come next.

All of the stories are from the male point of view, many of them in the first person. Some of these males have no clue about what makes a woman tick! I'm not sure anyone would characterize this collection as humor, but that doesn't mean there wasn't more than one laugh out loud moment. There is just something light about them and I was always glad to start my day with a Cheever story.

I can certainly understand why the Pulitzer committee considered this the 1979 winner. That award is "For distinguished fiction published in book form during the year by an American author, preferably dealing with American life...". Not every American life is like another. Cheever writes of one segment, but definitely American, and definitely that of the 30 or so years post WWII. 5-stars.

Cheever's stories offer a fascinating glimpse into a particular era and social class. The settings, from New York to Italy, add a touch of variety and charm. The characters, though often flawed and clueless, are engaging and relatable. The writing is细腻 and evocative, with those great opening lines that draw you in and keep you reading.

Overall, this collection is a must-read for anyone interested in American literature or just good storytelling. It's not perfect, but it's definitely a great read. I highly recommend it.

A grandes rasgos, the stories of Cheever can be divided into three groups.

First, there are the stories of life in New York about people who are trapped in a constant struggle to obtain the money that will allow them to reach or maintain a certain social position, but they are always at the mercy of fate.

Second, there are the stories of the suburbs (such as the fictional community of Shady Hill) about comfortable people who enjoy the glamorous side of alcohol and social gatherings, but whose family life is threatened by the increasing weight of small problems, routine, and the passage of time. In these stories, infidelity is so common that after three or four stories, it is not only predictable but also boring.

Third, there are the stories about Americans in Italy (which are the least interesting), with characters who are unable to accept that things are different in another country, to the extent that even tourism seems like a punishment for them.

Many of these stories have not aged well. In addition, Cheever tends to repeat himself in terms of themes and characters (almost all men with unhappy marriages). Although perhaps this would be less evident, or at least I would not have gotten tired, if I had not read these 61 stories in a row.

My favorites are: “Reunion”, “The Swimmer”, “O Youth and Beauty!”, “The Sorrows of Gin”, “The Music Teacher”, “The Enormous Radio” and “The Children”.

John Cheever is widely regarded as one of the best American short story writers of the 20th century. However, in my opinion, his works are not without flaws.

I already had a negative impression of his novel Falconer, and in this collection of short stories, while some of the best ones are indeed entertaining, there are an equal number that seem senseless to me.

I've read that the author never planned his writing but rather let it unfold intuitively. As a result, half of the stories lack a clear direction, contain digressions that lead nowhere, and leave many loose ends unresolved.

The stories set in Italy are a prime example, as is a story like "The Common Day." I prefer stories that have a nice, neat conclusion, clarifying all that has happened and leaving no mess behind.

I've read ten stories from this collection, including some of the most famous ones and a few chosen at random. I did enjoy "The Swimmer" and "The Enormous Radio," but overall, I found many of the stories to be lacking in the areas that I value most in a good story.

ODABRANE PRIČE - DŽON ČIVER

"Oh, how life can be wonderful, fulfilling and rich when you stop playing the role that your parents and friends have written for you."

ČETVRTI ALARM

The collection contains 27 stories about the shine and, even more, the troubles of the American middle class. I must admit that I wrongly believed that there wasn't much drama there. I'm glad I broke that prejudice of mine because Čiver is an excellent author. His stories know how to be both very tense and extremely moving, like Hartley's and Susret's. There are also quite a few bizarre ones, like The Piano Teacher and Justin's Death. However, my absolute favorite is The Day the Pig Fell into the Well. One anecdote is told and retold in the family. For years, the same story... not quite the same. The story perfectly depicts the history of the family, its ups and downs, the changing relationships among its members, all based on the variations of the story about one event. And like life itself, and like the life cycle of one family, the story about the pig is in constant motion. A story that lives, breathes, laughs and cries.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

#7sensesofabook #džončiver #odabranepriče

Where the hell have I been? This guy is a fucking genius. "Torch Song" is truly amazing. The way it unfolds and the emotions it evokes are simply captivating. "The Chaste Clarissa" is hysterical in the best sense of the word. It's a wild ride of a story that keeps you on the edge of your seat. And the asshole elevator boy on Xmas day story, you have to read it to believe it. It's one of those tales that makes you laugh out loud while also making you think. Cheever's sense of deadpan humor is as sharp as a knife. "The Superintendent" is a great example of this. His ability to present ordinary situations in such a unique and humorous way is truly remarkable. I'm only on page 200, but this book is pure fucking gold. I can't wait to see what else lies ahead.