This novella truly encompasses all the elements that I adore about Cheever.

The language is of a lovely clarity, which allows the reader to effortlessly immerse in the story.

There is a profound knowingness about people's inner lives and yearnings, as if Cheever has a direct line into the human psyche.

Moreover, there is a slight sense of the absurd that adds a touch of quirkiness and charm.

What I also found quite remarkable was the unexpected environmental message that subtly weaves its way through the narrative.

It's like a hidden gem waiting to be discovered.

Hurray for the Cheever revival!

His works continue to captivate and engage readers, offering a unique perspective on the human condition and the world around us.

It's a joy to experience the beauty and depth of his writing once again.

Long live Cheever and his wonderful literary contributions!

A short book consisting of merely 100 pages, yet it appears astonishingly contemporary despite having been penned around 35 years ago. I thoroughly enjoyed it as it was completely unpredictable, filled with some truly surprising twists and turns. It is, in part, the last stand of an "old man" - although I'm not entirely sure just how old he is - as he endeavors to navigate new relationships and a cause into which he has thrust himself. The characters are remarkably well-developed within such a short space, and I found myself deeply caring about what would transpire for them. There are also occasional bouts of "philosophizing" which, at times, can be a little dense. However, this does not detract from the overall engaging nature of the book. It's a captivating read that manages to pack a punch in its brevity, leaving the reader eager to see how the story unfolds and what the ultimate fate of the characters will be.

My very first encounter with Cheever was through this particular work. And from what I've come across in my readings about it, perhaps it wasn't the most ideal starting point.

It's a novella, consisting of around 100 pages. I can understand the reasoning behind those who claim that the stories within this novella seem fragmented and somewhat unfinished or flawed. That might be the case if one is accustomed to and anticipates something different from Cheever.

Maybe it deserves more of a 3.5 rating. However, it had the element of unpredictability, which was truly surprising, and it even managed to make me laugh. So, regardless of the minor flaws, I'm giving it four stars.

I will most definitely obtain his collected stories and find out if I'll enjoy them just as much. I'm eager to explore more of his works and see if they can capture my attention and imagination in the same way this novella did.

Who knows what other surprises and delights await me in the pages of Cheever's literary creations? I'm looking forward to embarking on this new literary journey.

Most would classify this as a novella.

The premise, admittedly, is a bit flimsy. It involves an old, perpetually-aroused man from New York City who visits his daughter's village. While there, he discovers that a lovely local pond is being polluted and endeavors to stop it.

Cheever was battling cancer while penning this book, and at times it does seem as if he sketched out scenes hastily so that the book could be published before his passing. That being said, Cheever's wry observations on how the world functions are truly amazing. It is great fun to witness his mind grapple with the meaning behind modern supermarkets and the historical context of fast food places. Additionally, compared to his contemporaries, Cheever had a relatively gentle and enlightened perspective on homosexual affairs.

Occasionally, one really gets a sense of the dramatic high notes he aimed to strike. The man investigating the lake discovers a woman's missing daughter. The investigator then dies suddenly, and the mother whose child he saved takes on his cause. One can tell that, along with his powerful and hypnotic observations about modern life (Cheever's unabashed enthusiasm for microchips made me want to look up old IBM commercials), he did desire to craft a thrilling tale of small-town schemes and political fights, yet it doesn't seem fully realized.

Some of the more baffling asides, like the main character remembering his trip to a psychic in the Balkans or his half-hearted fever dream of hiding in the grass, waiting to kill someone, have the loopy, unrestrained quality that shatters the dream of the book and draws attention to its artificiality.

I am aware that I sound overly negative about this book, but there is so much richness within this slim volume. Cheever's sharp and clinical view of the early 80s world - the obsessive jogging, the aforementioned microchips, etc - reminded me of Richard Ford's "The Sportswriter". It is a shame that Cheever didn't have more of an opportunity to explore the land of yuppies and Burger King wrappers - he would have had a field day.

This is the last novel of Cheever. It is a short story but full of characters who are intertwined.

The story is fair, clear, to the point and without detours. The narrative seems to be an excuse to paint the society in which it takes place.

Cheever's writing style in this novel is简洁 and direct. He presents the characters and their relationships in a straightforward manner, without excessive ornamentation or complexity.

The short length of the story does not prevent it from being engaging and thought-provoking. It manages to capture the essence of the society and the human condition within a limited number of pages.

Overall, this novel is a testament to Cheever's talent as a writer. It is a work that can be enjoyed for its simplicity and clarity, as well as for the insights it provides into the nature of society and the people who inhabit it.

I stayed up all night reading a short book by John Cheever titled "What a Paradise It Seems". From what I can gather, it was his last.

That things had been better was like a beautiful melody, a reprise of his days. It had been sung by his elders, by his associates. He had even heard it sung in college by Toynbee and Spengler. The idea that things had been better and were now getting worse, along with the lengthening moral and intellectual shadows spreading over the Western World, which seemed final, made it such a bore to live in this self-induced autumnal twilight.

There is a whole essay that could be written about the elegiac tone of this book. It could explore the things trampled by the inexorable march of progress, the vestiges of the ancient and the prior in fast food, nomadism, psychotherapy, and supermarkets. It could also discuss the genius of Cheever's use of the first-person narrator, who is both omniscient and sad. How the book seems to wander off into irrelevant asides that turn out to be pertinent, not only pertinent but deeply meaningful, more so for their obliquity. And how the title of the book, "Oh What a Paradise It Seems", is repeated on the last page in the (exclamatory) past tense: "What a paradise it seemed!" and why all of this is so wonderful. But today, I cannot do it. I'm too tired from having stayed up all night reading it, and I'm grumpy from having to sit around the house waiting for a delivery all day. However, let it be noted: I am touting this book, all of Cheever's works, and staying up all night reading in general.

Now, back to my grumping.

This was like a John Cheever book. It was one of his last books, but it seemed as if the atmosphere of writing just for the sake of writing had been taken.

There are classic Cheever themes such as the happy American family, suburban life, etc. But with the character of Sears who doesn't develop deeply, and especially with the character of Renee who is very cliched in many ways and of course "strange, inconsistent, hysterical", I didn't know where it was going.

There is the issue of environmental pollution, there are lawyers killed because of this (how similar we are to these Americans again), there is the town and local people who benefit from this business, there is Renee who is in her thirties and doesn't know what she wants from life and is associated with strange church meetings, there is the war gas, and there is the sudden homosexual relationship that Sears, who is shown as a rational man but I think is a rather mizoegen character, has...

Cheever tried to tell so many things and fit so many things into such a small book... from banks, supermarkets, neighbors, churches, the mafia, psychologists, all the way to those happy family poses we know... and unfortunately none of them were complete.

Still, it was interesting to realize how much the American 1980s resembled our 2000s.

**Title: Analyzing a Bizarre Novel**

To understand a literary or artistic work, is it necessary to know the life and obsessions of the author?

This is a strange novel. Reading it was like being in a car with a driver who doesn't know the destination. The driving then consists of sharp turns, U-turns, and sudden deviations.

A novel that has many contradictions within it (like the author's life?) and truly remarkable moments of lyricism.

"I would like the story I am telling to begin immersed in the fragrance of the mint that grows along the bed of the stream beside which I am lying, hidden with my rifle waiting to assassinate an impostor who should come here to catch trout. The little bit of sky that I see is blue. The smell of mint is intense and I sense the musicality of the water."

The lyricism, by the way, concludes in the sequence I have reported in a truly cruel and vile way.

Let's come to the themes.

The chimerical and unattainable happiness that is reflected in a charming little lake where the protagonist goes skating until it is destroyed by the man who turns it into a landfill.

The theme of environmental pollution that can metaphorically be read as the pollution of life by the impulses and the dark sides of man, the sides of himself that are difficult to accept and that prevent one from being happy.

The theme of anguishing and insoluble solitude.

The theme of sexual orientation.

But one passes from one to the other without continuity, with bold passages, poorly integrated and little explored (on the other hand, the novel is quite short).

In addition, we find some pieces that are truly not very plausible.

I exemplify with an emblematic episode.

You have a lover. You have been seeing her for a while. One day you go to her place, she usually awaits you complacent and undressed, but this time she welcomes you fully dressed and tells you she wants to go out for dinner. And what do you do? You go out and, hoping to be alone with her, you buy her two bouquets of yellow roses. You come back an hour later and you are surprised and desperate because you don't find her at home anymore!!! Well!

"You don't understand anything about women"

The lover repeats almost chanting to the protagonist on more than one occasion. Well, I would say that rather than not understanding anything about women, he really doesn't understand anything at all.

If I hadn't read something about the author, I doubt I would have understood. Hence the question: but shouldn't a literary or artistic work be self-consistent?

In fact, Cheever is famous and awarded for his short stories not for his novels.

An odd story indeed! It had a touch of a love story, a hint of corrupt politics, and a mysterious pond. It wasn't at all what I had anticipated when I picked it up, but still, it turned out to be a rather decent read.

I have to admit that I usually find John Cheever stories to be a bit of a hit or miss for me. Some of his works really resonate with me, while others just don't quite hit the mark. This particular story, however, seemed to fall somewhere in between.

It had its interesting moments, with the intertwining of the different elements adding a certain layer of complexity. The love story aspect brought a touch of romance, while the corrupt politics added a sense of drama and intrigue. And that pond, it was like a silent observer,见证着 all the events that unfolded.

Overall, it was an enjoyable read, even if it didn't quite reach the heights of some of Cheever's other works. It left me with a sense of satisfaction and a desire to explore more of his stories in the future.

This book was really beautiful.

It had a charm that immediately attracted me from the moment I laid eyes on it. The cover design was exquisite, with colors that seemed to blend perfectly and a picture that hinted at the wonderful story within.

As I started reading, I was completely immersed in the author's world. The writing style was engaging and流畅, making it easy for me to follow along and get lost in the plot.

The characters were well-developed and relatable, each with their own unique personalities and motives. I found myself rooting for them and feeling their joys and sorrows as if they were real people.

The story itself was captivating, filled with twists and turns that kept me on the edge of my seat. It had a depth and complexity that made it more than just a simple read.

Overall, I would highly recommend this book to anyone looking for a great read. It's a book that will stay with you long after you've turned the last page.

Cheever saw the publication of this book months before his death. As Fresán explains in the prologue, it was a farewell, stating that life is beautiful and one must live it.

Lemuel Sears is retired and wants to skate on the lake near his home to recall the memories of his life. In the bank queue, he meets Renée, a real estate agent who makes him fall in love again. However, Eduardo, his doorman, will cross his path and also try to make him fall in love.

Perhaps that could be the final story of this tale, but no. The cleaning of the lake where he wants to skate will be his fight against a real estate mafia that wants to turn it into a landfill. That is the other story in its pages. Or perhaps the dispute between neighbors who know his secrets.

It is all that and perhaps more, because Cheever, with a wonderful pen, portrays American life from the perspective of someone who is trying to decipher their doings. It is a very fast book, but it leaves many ideas in one's head to think about and read again. An excellent book to enter autumn.

(...) “He had heard that exact same exclamation from a lover exactly, so many years ago that he couldn't remember her name, nor the color of her hair, nor what specific erotic acrobatics they were performing.” “Sears had stopped a dozen runners and asked them why they were running. <>, they replied.” “He was, spiritually speaking, a fragile young man who would never amount to anything, and the irony he loved so much would be interrupted and forgotten in a matter of a month. There is no irony, of course.” (...)

Structurally neat and tidy, this work is especially interesting given it’s a product of Cheever’s personal unraveling.

It seems to offer a unique perspective that draws the reader in.

The best review even comments, “Might hit too close to home if you are a closeted dude who drinks a lot of polluted pond water.”

This俏皮remark adds an element of intrigue.

Even with the presence of the pond, this is not quite the environmental story that the Sierra Club set might get excited for when they read the jacket copy.

Rather, it presents the same nostalgic New England NIMBYism that one can find in The Wapshot Chronicle.

However, despite not being a typical environmental narrative, it still works.

Perhaps it is the charm of the New England setting or the exploration of human nature that makes it engaging.

Either way, it manages to hold the reader’s attention and leave a lasting impression.