When John Cheever was sick with cancer and on the verge of dying, he wrote a short novel with an ecological message and surprisingly optimistic tone, simply titled 'This Is the End of the Story'. The protagonist is an older man who loves to skate on ice and, throughout the novel, starts a relationship with a woman and then another with a man, both younger than him, while also struggling to prevent a lagoon from becoming a waste dump. Of the works I have read by Cheever (which aren't many), this is the one where bisexuality is treated with the least sense of guilt. Still, there is a bit of a sense of culpability.

In the first line of 'This Is the End of the Story', Cheever informs us that the story he is about to tell should be read in bed, on a rainy night in an old house. The previous novel I read by Cheever, 'Bullet Park', could already be read as a fable, but this one is truly a fable. And this has its good and bad aspects. For example, it seemed to me that the final resolution was too easy and that the development of the conflict was really Manichean. In short, it didn't seem like a well-rounded novel to me because sometimes it also gives the impression that it is a bit scattered, poorly planned, with parallel characters and scenes that don't contribute much to the main plot.

However, although it is not a perfect or compact novel, it has really delicious things, like the optimism and love for nature that it overflows with. In addition, it has the typical distancing irony and the strange humor that is the hallmark of John Cheever. Another curious detail, but one that works very well, is the fact of narrating the author's present almost in a retro-futuristic style. I don't know if I'm explaining myself well, but it reminded me a bit of the style of 'White Noise' by Don DeLillo because it has that same anthropological-ironic air (and because there are also a couple of key scenes that take place in supermarkets). And there are also really beautiful passages, like when the protagonist goes skating or fishing with his lover, or when he first sees the woman he falls in love with in the bank queue, or when that family goes to spend a day at the beach. Really beautiful.

This is a story that is meant to be read in bed within an old house on a rainy night.

So commences Cheever's 1982 fable. The story revolves around an idyllic village. It presented no fast food franchises of any sort. There were large mansions that had not been reconstructed to serve as nursing homes for that vast population of the comatose and the dying who were kept alive, unconscionably, through trailblazing medical invention. The village also contained an equally idyllic pond, upon which the hero, an older man named Lemuel Sears, took pleasure in ice skating.

The pond faced a threat when a crooked politician consented to let it become a dump. People were murdered. Lemuel took up the cause, fell in love with a woman, and then kind of with a man, saw a psychiatrist, and ultimately saved the pond with the assistance of a beleaguered housewife.

Cheever dismisses the more intricate plot twists as belonging to another tale. After reading the fable, I was left with a glimmer of hope. The hope that small paradises exist and that a person can strive to give them the illusion of permanence, at least as much illusion as that person has of the permanence of their own life.

Oscar Wilde wrote: "The artist can express everything. Thought and language are to the artist instruments of an art." Cheever's writing renders complicated thoughts and feelings lucid, as if uncovering the world's guarded secrets. Getting lost in the art is itself a paradise.

Regarding computer memory: "with its supernatural command of facts and its supernatural lack of discernment."

Concerning a NYC office building: "They were on the nether floor of a nether building in a nether neighborhood, and when he entered the place he saw nothing that was not distinguished by portability."

This book is truly unique. It is quirky and at times absurd, which makes it all the more interesting. The story is sad, but it doesn't leave you feeling depressed. Instead, it has a certain charm that keeps you engaged.

What I really like about this book is its frank description of desire. It doesn't shy away from exploring the complex emotions and longings of the characters.

Another great aspect is that it is only 100 pages long, so you can easily finish it in one sitting. This is very satisfying as you can maintain your attention on the story from start to finish without getting distracted.

I absolutely loved this book and would highly recommend it to anyone looking for a quick and engaging read that offers something different. It's a refreshing change from the typical novels out there.

3,5 stele.

"Totul pare un paradis" is the last novel written by John Cheever, and it is undoubtedly a very pleasant read. The novel not only has a powerful ecological message but also represents a declaration of love for life from a writer who, in reality, had very little time left to live when he wrote this book.

The action of the novel takes place in Janice, a provincial town that differs from other similar American towns in that it has no fast-food restaurant. The explanation for this anomaly has nothing to do with the poverty of the town's residents but is a consequence of a computer error in the systems through which the locations for this type of restaurant are chosen. At the same time, on the outskirts of the town is Beasley's Dump, which will unfortunately be turned into a major source of pollution by the local authorities.

The main hero is Lemuel Sears, an elderly former IT industry specialist who has been widowed twice - the description of his second marriage to Estelle, whose only concern was to predict "wars, poverty, divorces, madness and suicides", but who proves unable to predict her own end, is delicious - and who falls in love with Renee Herndon, a beautiful woman who works in the real estate field. The relationship between the two is rather strange, the moments of intense eroticism being frequently interrupted by the woman's assertion that he does not understand women at all. At the same time, Sears finds himself involved in an erotic relationship with the elevator operator in the building where Renee lives.

There are also other narrative threads in the novel besides the ecological one, that of the confrontation between those who are in favor of the removal of the waste from the dump and those who oppose this move for financial reasons. All of these together form a very nice micro-novel. A pleasant read!

A short, punchy, and rather sarcastic book delves into the issue of environmental pollution in a small town. The lawyer, Sears, not only protests the small town's callous destruction of a beautiful pond but also explores his bisexual propensities in Manhattan, where he both works and resides. He hails from Janice, the very place where the lake is being contaminated. The setting of the book appears to be during the disco era. I have a deep affection for Cheever's novels. His works often manage to capture the complex and often absurd aspects of human nature and society. In this particular book, the contrast between the idyllic beauty of the pond in the small town and the seedy underbelly of Sears' life in Manhattan is both striking and thought-provoking. It makes one wonder about the true cost of progress and the sacrifices we make in the name of development.

There are writers whom one places on an altar to worship them.

This happened to me with Cheever when I read his Complete Stories. A masterpiece of the short story.

This is his last novel, published in 1982, months before his death.

It is a short novel, whose first lines give us the tone and meaning of this work: "This is a story to read in bed, in an old house, on a rainy night."

Lemuel Sears is a man who has reached old age, that territory whose coordinates some relativize, but which the body is responsible for locating precisely. He is a man who comes back in many themes. A womanizer, he starts a romance with a young woman and explores another aspect of love with an elevator operator.

The protagonist is determined to defend the lake of his youth, threatened by the pollution caused by commercial interests.

It is a short novel or a long story that tells us about the desire to live, to find a meaning in existence and not to be defeated by the inescapable passage of time.

I think the best of Cheever is in his stories, but this vitalist novel was a beautiful way to close his narrative production.

John Cheever presents an intimate and humorous portrayal of American life in his works. His depictions are so细腻 that they never give the impression of being invasive or mocking. Instead, his sincerity and affection for his characters shine through clearly.

For example, in his stories, we can see the ordinary lives of people, their joys, sorrows, and the little details that make up their daily existence. Cheever has a unique ability to capture the essence of human nature and relationships.

As someone who has a beloved childhood lake that is currently facing proposed developments, Cheever's works hit close to home. The idea of losing something so dear and precious to progress and change is a theme that many can relate to. It makes us reflect on the importance of preserving our memories and the things that matter most to us.

Overall, Cheever's writing is a beautiful and poignant exploration of American life and the human condition.

More than two years to finish it already says a lot about my review of this book. It has only 110 pages, which are dense and tell a beautiful story while at the same time describing that North American middle class that seems so peculiar and attractive to Europeans. The novel is interesting, but Cheever's writing style, for me, has also seemed very disjointed throughout the whole story, until the last few pages. This has really slowed me down in reading the novel and made it so difficult for me to finish it.

Perhaps it is because I am not fully immersed in the North American cultural context, or maybe it is just my personal perception. However, despite these difficulties, I still appreciate the unique charm of this book. The story it tells is engaging and thought-provoking, and it gives me a glimpse into a different world. I think that if I were to read it again, I might have a different understanding and appreciation of it.

In conclusion, although it took me a long time to finish this book, I am still glad that I read it. It has broadened my horizons and deepened my understanding of different cultures and ways of life.

The sky was clear that morning and perhaps there were still stars, although he didn't see them. Thinking about the stars contributed to the strength of his feelings. What moved him was the sensation of those worlds around ours; no matter how imperfect our knowledge of their nature is, we have the feeling that they possess a part of our past and of our future lives. It was that powerful sensation of being alive on the planet. It was that powerful sensation of how unique, in the immensity of creation, is the richness of our opportunity. The sensation of that hour was an exquisite privilege, the great gift of living here and of renewing ourselves through love. This seemed like paradise!

He stood there, lost in thought, as the gentle breeze caressed his face. The beauty of the morning was almost overwhelming. The clear blue sky stretched out above him, as if inviting him to look beyond. He imagined the countless stars that still lingered in the distant reaches of space, shining their light even in the face of the approaching day. The thought of those stars filled him with a sense of wonder and awe. It made him realize how small and insignificant he was in the grand scheme of things, yet at the same time, how precious and unique his existence was.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to soak in every moment of this magical morning. The smell of the fresh grass and the sounds of the birds chirping filled his senses, making him feel alive and rejuvenated. He knew that this was a moment he would never forget, a moment that would stay with him forever. It was a moment of pure joy and happiness, a moment when he felt truly connected to the world around him. And as he opened his eyes and looked out at the beautiful landscape before him, he couldn't help but smile. This was indeed a paradise on earth.

Cheever is engaged in what he excels at - sexual repression and thrilling yet ordinary suburban melodrama. Just like in Winesburg, Ohio, there is a despairing sense of the industrial world's de-spiritualizing impact on all of us. As Cheever writes, "a landscape, a people - and he counted himself among them - who had lost the sense of a harvest."

At the beginning, the numerous plot threads made me question how all of this could be brought together within 100 pages. However, it never made me doubtful. Cheever's prose is so clear and transparent that I didn't truly care if the plot resolution felt completely satisfying (although it did anyway, aside from a few overly written passages of scientific explanation). It became evident to me that if the plotting of multiple plot threads seems incoherent and fragmented, it is to the effect of demonstrating how chaotic and disorganized everyday life feels in such a world.

I also want to state that novellas are the best. Similar to an 80-minute movie, it is something that you can enjoy "in bed in an old house on a rainy night."

The only novel I had read by the author, “Bullet Park”, a few years ago, didn't excite me, nor did it leave me with any memory. He wasn't one of those authors you decide to keep reading. But here I am again. This one hasn't excited me either. It seems as if it lacks a bit more development.

“Oh, this seems like paradise!” I found it at home and, lacking another reading, I started it. A short novel that can be read in a few hours, with several intersecting plots.

“This is a story to read in bed, in an old house, on a rainy night.”

Lemuel Sears, an elderly man still sexually active (with a woman he conquers in the queue at a bank and later with the doorman of her building) and concerned about the degradation of the landscape, especially a lake where he likes to skate and fish, which has become a dump for toxic products, takes actions to improve the situation.

On the other hand, the neighborhood relationships of two families of Neapolitan origin in the town where Lemuel Sears' daughter lives and which are related to the situation and the outcome of the deterioration of the lake.

From what I deduce, John Cheever presents the struggle to improve the lake as an individual claim, it doesn't seem to be a joint action of the population, and the resolution will also be, in the style of the Neapolitan cliché. It's like a western and the “alone against danger” so American.

In his relationship with Renée, she always repeats to him “You don't understand anything about women at all”. He always picks her up after she meets with groups of people in different churches who are trying to stop smoking or drinking, according to the doorman. Since she is relatively punctual “for what women usually are”, he believes that “punctuality in appointments was an infallible indicator of sexual spontaneity”. Which confirms her statement.

In the end, I deduce that, as the story unfolds, the title must be an irony.

Late Cheever sadly disappoints; most of the magic is gone. This novella, published in the year of Cheever’s death and seven years after he quit drinking, marks a rather melancholy end to his career. Having been truly amazed by The Wapshot Chronicle and deeply captivated by the confessional Journals of John Cheever, one would have expected much more from this late-life work.

One can't help but suspect that, had it not been written by Cheever himself, it might never have managed to find a publisher. It reads like a fever dream of a novella, filled with sequential affairs, first with an attractive female realtor and then with the male elevator operator in her apartment complex. It also serves as a sort of paean to the joys of ice skating and fly fishing, while simultaneously being a condemnation of environmental degradation.

Although the novella does have a few sections of truly sparkling prose, the overall mood that pervades it is one of sour frustration. The male protagonist, who can perhaps be seen as a sort of Cheever stand-in, is initially warmly welcomed and then coldly rebuffed by his beloved realtor, who repeatedly tells him that “he doesn’t understand the first thing about women.” One wonders if this is a reflection of the difficult relationship that Cheever had with his own wife, or perhaps a more general sense of bewilderment and frustration in the face of the growing influence of feminism in the 1970s.

Like many works of its era, there is a rather heavy emphasis on male virility and sexual conquest. However, this now seems rather dated. Was it really as exciting forty years or more ago as it might have been intended to be?

All in all, this novella is really only recommended for those who are true Cheever completists.