Finishing this at the pub as Sympathy for the Devil came on was a wholly pleasurable experience.

The pub was filled with a lively atmosphere, and the familiar tune of Sympathy for the Devil added an extra layer of excitement. As I sat there, sipping my drink and typing away, I couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment.

The lyrics of the song seemed to resonate with the moment, as if they were speaking directly to me. The rhythm and melody were infectious, and I found myself tapping my foot along to the beat.

It was a perfect combination of work and play, and I was able to enjoy both aspects to the fullest. Finishing this task in such a fun and enjoyable environment made it all the more satisfying.

I will definitely remember this moment for a long time, and I look forward to many more similar experiences in the future.

Falconer is the prison and Farragut (fratricide, zip to ten, #734-508-32) is the convicted man. That’s the heart of Falconer. I went into Falconer expecting a stereotypical prison yarn but instead I found a very interesting story, both in terms of narrative and form.

For almost the entire length of the novel, I couldn't quite place where it was going to go or what type of mood Cheever was going for. I would almost call the flow episodic. Farragut's life story, which takes up large portions of the book, is revealed through several scenes of retrospection. An event would happen, say Farragut's wife visiting or a guard asking Farragut why he is an addict, and following that would be a digression dealing with Farragut's past or even just musings on some point. This push toward introspection created a weird duality for me. Humorous or absurd moments are found side by side with rather serious moments.

My feelings are encapsulated by a moment found close to the end of the book when the prisoners are allowed to take a photo of themselves with a Christmas tree, which they could then have sent to a loved one. When Chicken took his place and held up his form, they all read: Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus. Icicle Street. The North Pole. The photographer smiled broadly and was looking around the room to share this joke with the rest of them when he suddenly grasped the solemnity of Chicken's loneliness. No one at all launched at this hieroglyph of pain, and Chicken, sensing the stillness at this proof of his living death, swung his head around, shot up his skinny chin and said gaily, “My left profile’s my best.”

This may not be the most perfect example, but it comes close to the point I'm getting at. I found myself to be like the photographer. I'd laugh at something, say an exchange between Farragut and his wife, or his lover, Jody, quite happily noting that Farragut isn't a homosexual, right before something intimate and a bit profound is described. At other times it would be the other way around. A profound moment of retrospection would be followed by something completely absurd, like guards ripping off the heads of cats. There are a lot of scenes like that, a lot more than I care to describe, but it created this unique experience that I found greatly enjoyable.

The greatest shock for me was the last 30 to 40 pages of the novel. I'm not one that feels it absolutely necessary that a novel should have a satisfactory ending, but I have to say that I found the ending of this book to be rewarding. This is one of the few books that I never saw the ending coming. Now, this may have something to do with how episodic the book felt, but none the less there was a bit of a surprise and a bit of cathartic feeling at the end. I felt that it came together quite well after being so loosely connected for over 180 pages.

In conclusion, Falconer is a novel that defies expectations. It takes the reader on a journey through the life of a prisoner, filled with unexpected twists and turns, and a unique blend of humor and seriousness. The ending provides a sense of closure and satisfaction, making it a truly memorable read.

It seems like an autobiographical novel, precise, clear, without hesitation. One has the impression that the author is writing about things he knows very well.

At the same time, the tone is detached, as if the events being told refer to many years ago. It seems that the author is relating the experience had by a friend who fills him in during a single sitting, in an intense afternoon, without an abundance of details but only caring about the essentials.

These are days, months of life in prison for assassins, for forgotten men. Almost no one has a name anymore, but only nicknames and numbers. It is still possible to establish the line between right and wrong, between the outside world and the prison here called the reformatory, between Cain and Abel. But different levels of guilt also emerge, some of which remain unpunished and often it is precisely these that cause dramas and prosecutable crimes.

At the end of the reading, one is left with a bitter taste in the mouth, almost as if to say that we are all equal, that a lot depends on the greater or lesser fortune that each of us encounters in life, on the family in which one is raised, on the experiences that each one, sometimes, is forced to live. Race, place, environment.

The book has a flowing narrative.

Particularly, the stories told by the characters in prison were quite captivating.

You only experience disruptions from the book in some sections.

I couldn't fully understand the reason for this, but I think it occurs in the connection parts.

Maybe it just seemed that way to me.

Reading American literature, especially for those who want to read in a style similar to Bukowski and Raymond Carver, will be a great reading experience.

It offers a unique perspective into the lives and minds of the characters, taking the reader on a journey through different emotions and situations.

The vivid descriptions and the way the stories are presented make it easy for the reader to immerse themselves in the book.

Overall, it is a book that is worth exploring and enjoying.

And the Lord said unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother? And he said, I know not: Am I my brother's keeper? Genesis 4:9

God, in His divine wisdom, saw through Cain's lie. Angered by Cain's act of fratricide, God cursed him. Cain was sentenced to a life of wandering, a punishment that would haunt him forever.

Falconer is a modern fratricide story that mirrors the ancient tale. In this story, the state, like God, condemned Cain and sent him to prison.

Long ago when they first invented the atomic bomb people used to worry about its going off and killing everybody, but they didn’t know that mankind has got enough dynamite right in his guts to tear the fucking planet to pieces. We’ve learnt to suppress our primordial murderous instincts but somewhere, deep down inside, the beast is dormant and it can be awakened so easily. This shows that despite our progress and civilization, the capacity for violence and destruction still lies within us. It is a reminder that we must constantly strive to keep our inner demons at bay and choose love and peace over hatred and violence.

The Wapshot Chronicle failed to move me, and I feared I would forever regard Cheever as a brilliant story writer incapable of handling long-form works.

Falconer, however, proved me completely wrong.

There are numerous reviews in these areas either lauding Falconer as "redemptive" or harshly criticizing it for lacking "redemption." Forget that nonsense. We're talking about Cheever here! Our protagonist, Farragut, is a whiny, irritating, patrician-rich junkie who's in prison for murder, and he behaves like, well... a typical Cheever protagonist who ends up in the big house, and it's damn funny. Seriously, do any of these readers have no sense of humor? He's a jerk, and of course he is. He clumsily dabbled in homosexuality, and I suspect some of Cheever's awkward middle-aged attempts to embrace his bisexuality might have influenced the narrative here. I have no idea why this has been so overlooked and misinterpreted. It's a complex and engaging work that deserves more appreciation and a deeper understanding of its true nature.

Me pareció una gran novela. It was truly an outstanding piece of work that left a lasting impression on me.

Farragut, un hombre complejo, con muchas contradicciones y dificultades, se convierte en un personaje memorable. He is a complex character, full of contradictions and facing numerous difficulties, which makes him truly unforgettable.

Me gusta la forma en que Cheever plantea el enamoramiento de Farragut con otros hombres, la diferencia que establece entre el amor y el deseo sexual que tiene con su esposa y con su amante en la prisión. I like the way Cheever presents Farragut's love for other men and the distinction he makes between love and sexual desire with his wife and his lover in prison.

En definitiva, recomiendo esta novela. In conclusion, I highly recommend this novel. It offers a unique and thought-provoking exploration of love, desire, and the human condition.

I was initially trapped and in a series of what followed, but had hoped for something bigger and better.

Instead, read the truly amazingly fine short story "The Swimmer" by Cheever.

This short story offers a unique and captivating exploration of a man's journey through a series of swimming pools in a seemingly idyllic suburban neighborhood.

Cheever's writing is masterful, painting vivid pictures and delving deep into the psyche of the protagonist.

The story takes unexpected turns, keeping the reader engaged and intrigued from beginning to end.

It is a work that not only entertains but also makes you think about the nature of life, relationships, and the pursuit of happiness.

So, if you're looking for a great read, don't miss out on "The Swimmer" by Cheever.

I’m not entirely certain whether the “literary criticism” crowd acknowledges a particular mid-20th century white US male writing style. However, it appears to me that there is indeed something unique here, and Falconer is very much a part of it. There is an abundance of introspection, highly personal internal monologue, and stream of consciousness, yet in a manner that is not nearly as artistic as, for instance, Joyce. We have Cheever, Updike, Malamud, Roth, and so on.

Professor and heroin addict Zeke Farragut is sentenced to Falconer prison for murdering his brother. So, right from the start, we are aware that we have the ingredients for a psychological extravaganza. Throw in some bisexuality, and we know we’re in for a wild ride.

Given the prison setting, we would expect a brutal novel, far removed from the suburban angst short stories for which Cheever is most renowned. In fact, though, it is much less so than one might think, and is more along the lines of a redemptive fable.

If I were a professor teaching a course that includes Falconer on the syllabus, I would likely conclude this part of the course with a one-question essay test that requires students to assume the role of Zeke and answer the question that Tiny, the brutal cat-genocide guard with softie tendencies, keeps asking him: “Why is you an addict?”

I almost stopped reading around page 50.

The reason was that I really didn't want to listen to a man complaining about his allegedly inattentive wife when he was completely unable to take responsibility for his own mistakes.

He had literally murdered his brother while on meth.

However, I'm glad I finished it.

There were random moments of enlightenment in what was otherwise a plotless, almost absurd, and dishonest rant of a man suffering from the isolation of imprisonment.

While it would be inhumane not to feel sympathy for his and the other prisoners' situation, it was difficult to fully connect with an untrustworthy and unestablished narrator who presented himself as a victim of the world.

I love an unlikable main character as much as anyone else, but it was as if Cheever created this almost contemptible main character and then spent the whole book trying to make the reader cheer for him.

It was a strange and somewhat frustrating reading experience, but in the end, it did offer some food for thought about the nature of guilt, redemption, and the human condition.

4.5
I had never read anything by Cheever. I had been pursuing him for years, and finally, it was the sight of the last Sorrentino that pushed me to read him, even if it happened almost by chance, as a gift, a treasure, found in the meanders of the house.

Falconer is a novel that overwhelms you, not only for the story it tells but for everything that Farragut confesses about himself or makes us feel through his companions in misfortune.

We know from the very beginning that he is a fratricide, that he confesses to being the victim of an “incident,” but only at the end do we discover what happened, and by discovering the name of his brother, Cheever opens up scenarios that are nothing short of biblical, which live and die in the few pages preceding the finale.

It is a passionate story of passions, both positive and negative, a story of impossible loves, of Farragut and his companions, from the Horned One to Coconut Number 2 to the Deaf One, who are revealed to the reader with a very strong humanity that moves and touches even in the hardest moments.

Because humanity is in every corner of the world, even in the darkest ones, and it does not exhaust itself in what is good in each of us.

A climate of absolute suspense in which it is easy to get lost in one's own thoughts and the thoughts of the inmates of Falconer, in which it is difficult to glimpse an extended horizon.

A wonderful work that made me discover - better late than never - one of the contemporary American authors who has most viscerally affected me in absolute terms.

A very good and short book. It's truly remarkable how this book manages to be so entertaining, especially considering it's a "prison" book. Typically, such books might be expected to be rather solemn or depressing. However, this one is filled with a great deal of wit and humor, which keeps the narrative constantly moving forward. I really like the way that at various points in the story, a character would essentially share their backstory of how they ended up in prison. This not only provides an interesting perspective on the individual characters but also serves as an insight into what's happening with our main character. The concept of having stories within stories is always a great one, as it adds depth and complexity to the overall narrative.