Bullet Park is, without a doubt, quite possibly Cheever's (albeit deeply flawed) masterpiece.

There is simply no two ways about it. This is an extremely difficult and frustrating novel that defies easy categorization. It will truly test the patience of the naive reader who is expecting a story about the idyllic bliss of suburban life.

Eliot Nailles and Paul Hammer engage in a clash within the seemingly Edenic Bullet Park. However, this clash comes about due to a chance encounter with a magazine in a dentist's office. Moreover, the madman's motiveless crime ultimately fails because he postpones finishing the job in order to smoke a cigarette.

Cheever appears to be suggesting that life is a perilous journey that can come to an end at any given moment. Nevertheless, redemption and deliverance can also occur suddenly, at the drop of a hat. It seems that the best we can hope for is to live with a certain degree of moral clarity.

Needless to say, this novel is essential reading as it offers profound insights into the human condition and the complex nature of life.

The text contains two interesting snippets. The first one, "Beni sevmenin tek nedeni, beni sevdiğini düşünmenin tek nedeni, bana bir şeyler verebilmen." Sf:107, presents an idea about the reason for loving someone. It seems to suggest that the only reason to love someone is the belief that they can give something to you. This could引发 various interpretations and discussions about the nature of love and its motives.

The second snippet, "Tony pazartesi okula geri döndü, Nailles ise -uyuşturucu etkisi altında- işe gitti; her şey eskisi gibi harika, harika, harika, harikaydı." Sf:214, describes the return of Tony to school on Monday and Nailles going to work under the influence of drugs. The repeated use of "harika" (wonderful) in this context might imply a sense of irony or a distorted perception of reality. It could also raise questions about the consequences of drug use and how it affects people's lives and perspectives.

Overall, these snippets offer glimpses into different aspects of human relationships, motives, and the impact of certain behaviors. They invite further exploration and analysis of the themes they present.

So Very Sixties

This is a truly bizarre book that is filled to the brim with absurdities and unfathomable details regarding travel and personal description.

An upper middle class suburb in New York is seemingly randomly chosen by an apparent psychopath as the location for a senseless murder. The target is the son of a local resident, who is rather unremarkable except for his smug racism, chronic boredom, and moderate dependencies on alcohol and drugs. The motive for this heinous act appears to stem from a suggestion by the murderer's estranged mother that "nothing less than a crucifixion" will wake the world.

Could this be a metaphor for the perceived attack on or deterioration of middle class values during the 1960s? Perhaps, but then one has to wonder why Cheever would place such an attack in the mind and hands of another middle class nutcase. And what do the repeating tropes, such as the white threads on clothing, the yellow room, allusions to homosexual panic, and the unaccounted for drowsiness of both the would-be murderer and his victim, truly signify?

Locations like Rome, the Italian Alps, Switzerland, and Cleveland come and go without any clear need or apparent purpose. Historical events, such as a political assassination and the translation of an Italian poet, are mentioned without any context or consequence.

If this book had been written 30 years later, I would have easily pegged it as being authored by an experimental AI programme. Maybe Cheever was prescient enough to anticipate such technology. But I highly doubt it. Clearly, I am in desperate need of someone to provide me with a skeleton key to unlock the mysteries of Bullet Park.

I have truly been in love with Cheever ever since I discovered many years ago that the film 'The Swimmer' was based on his short story. As a result, I strive to read as much of his work as possible every year.

Bullet Park, in many respects, is just as anticipated. It is a well-paced and structured tale that offers a beautifully incisive look at the rough edges of the upper-middle-class in Westchester county. The town of Bullet Park is a place where flawless appearances mask less-than-perfect motives. There is excessive drinking, pill popping, and cocktail parties, and being sober is defined as having only three whiskies per evening. There are those born to seemingly perfect parents into a seemingly perfect world, contrasted with a lonely-hearted bastard born into wealth who can't seem to distinguish up from down. There is incredible happiness disguising sadness, as well as completely disruptive and inexplicable sadness that is not hidden. I adore how the story twists the concept of these parents who are desperately present in their children's lives yet are such hypocrites and not truly there at the same time.

The three parts of this novel are unconventional but work effectively. Part I is Naille's life with his wife Nellie, son Tony, and the brief introduction of Hammer up to the present, with chapter after chapter of well-balanced flashbacks. It's a "this might require a little more explanation" approach of peeling the onion when the story gets a bit strange and not as perfect as we were led to believe. Part II is Hammer's life from childhood to the present, told concisely and with restraint but appropriately hitting all the key points with a "hammer" (pun intended). Part III is the crossing arcs of these two characters, picking up where Parts I and II left off. It takes some rather crazy turns at the end but remains firmly within the context and spirit of Bullet Park, resulting in a pleasantly uncomfortable nonchalance.

Cheever is a master at capturing awkward moments and devilish thoughts on the page. He makes you squirm when you see yourself reflected in the mirror of his scathing descriptions and makes you giggle when he strikes a nostalgic chord within you. I don't think his works are that distinct from each other, but Bullet Park, like many of his other stories, is truly a delight to read.

The last paragraph of this Rumpus review of Bullet Park really hits the mark. Oprah has been off the air for a year now, but when we look at the books our culture values these days, it's evident that we still live in an age where the most significant endorsement a book can receive is from TV. There's no doubt that our highest literary praise is still reserved for what is slick, polished, and cinematic.

I'm not suggesting that this is necessarily bad. The Art of Fielding and The Rules of Civility are two refined and flawless novels that came out last year and both proudly sit near the top of my list of the greatest books I've read recently. What I'm saying, as the Rumpus reviewer also points out, is that perhaps our hunger for easily digestible, page-turning, and immersive literature has diminished our desire for the pleasures of reading a challenging and difficult book. Not necessarily ambitious works, but just those where a great writer is laboring away without necessarily achieving complete success in their project.

This is such a book. Cheever is truly astonishing. Reading any sentence in this book, it seems not only impossible for anyone to surpass him in ability and intellect, but sometimes it feels impossible that there even exists a person who could understand and express something so magnificently and powerfully. However, the book is still a bit of a mess. Part 1, the "death to suburbia" section about Nailles's life, is a tour de force of ideas and writing, but it's still a tour of the very subdivisions where it's set. In terms of plotting, it's full of dead-ends, unfinished business, and meandering asides like the calm yet menacing cul-de-sacs of the mind. (Perhaps it's the cul-de-sac where the Drapers from "Mad Men" live, which is called Bullet Park Road.) Part 2, about Hammer's itinerant life, has a gripping tone but a style that borders on nonsensical and bad gonzo journalism. Its presence (nay, necessity) in the emotional and allegorical thrust of the book only becomes clear many pages later, in the final, abrupt, cruel, and bitter climax.

Whatever the state of our critical faculties regarding what makes a book worthwhile, this particular book remains a quick (dare I say slick?) read, full of sound and fury and signifying much more than could be captured in a web review. So I would wholeheartedly recommend this jolt to the system to any book lover like myself, who dares to call himself an avid reader yet looks back at his Goodreads feed to find only a sea of books endorsed by stuffy prize committees, twee Brooklyn friends, and self-absorbed NPR talking heads. To quote Cheever's last lines: "wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful."

Look, Tony, see how bright everything is.

Nobody can stay in bed on a day like this. It's like a challenge, Tony. Everything's ahead of you. Everything. You'll go to college, get an interesting job, get married and have children. Everything's in front of you, Tony. Come to the window.

***

"I would settle in some place like Bullet Park. I would buy a house. I would be very inconspicuous. I would play bridge. I would engage in charities. I would entertain in order to conceal my purpose."

"What would that be?"

"I would single out as an example some young man, preferably an advertising executive, married with two or three children, a good example of a life lived without any genuine emotion or value."

"What would you do to him?"

"I would crucify him on the door of Christ's Church," she said passionately. "Nothing less than a crucifixion will wake that world."

This conversation seems to unfold in a rather intense and perhaps even radical context. The first part is about the optimistic view of Tony's future, filled with the typical milestones of a fulfilling life. But then it takes a sharp turn when the woman starts talking about her rather extreme plan. Her choice of singling out a specific type of person and the idea of crucifying him on the church door is quite shocking. It makes one wonder about the depth of her dissatisfaction or her strong desire to make a statement and wake up the world from what she perceives as a life lacking in true meaning and value.

This novel was written and set in the 1960s.

The tone of the novel is often sarcastic, and one can almost hear the tune of "Pleasant Valley Sunday" playing in the mental background.

However, along with the self-satisfaction, there is also a sense of quiet desperation. For example, a character's son refuses to get up due to extreme unhappiness. But why?

John Cheever's best form is the short story. "Bullet Park" seemed more like an overlong short story. The ending was abrupt and inconclusive. Was this by design? Perhaps the story was like a whirring computer program that required a cold shut down.

Nevertheless, there were some good literary flashes. For those new to John Cheever, I would recommend the short story "The Swimmer." It is well-paced and flows smoothly (no pun intended). It can be enjoyed on both a literal and symbolic level, making it a great introduction to Cheever's work.

Overall, while "Bullet Park" may have its flaws, it still showcases Cheever's talent as a writer.

Cheever is truly remarkable when it comes to prose, and his approach to novel structure is highly unconventional. He painstakingly constructs the image of suburbia by delving deep into the descriptive personal details of his characters. At first, reading Bullet Park feels like following a conversation that meanders and veers off course. However, Cheever's execution is not only effective but also highly entertaining.

This book tackles several significant issues such as suburban malaise, depression, excessive pill-popping, and marital strife. Despite the overall dark mood that pervades the story, Bullet Park remains a truly terrific read. One can't help but wonder what exactly is happening in the suburbs. It seems to be a world filled with witchcraft and wife-swapping, adding an element of mystery and intrigue to the narrative.

A notable sentence from the book is: "Outside I could hear the brook, some night bird, moving leaves, and all the sounds of the night world seemed endearing as if I quite literally loved the night as one loves a woman, loved the stars, the trees, the weeds in the grass as one can love with the same ardor a woman's breasts and the applecore she has left in an ashtray." This sentence beautifully captures the author's ability to create a vivid and sensory-rich atmosphere, drawing the reader into the world of the story.

The writing in this piece is truly excellent. It manages to infuse the seemingly unpoetic suburban life with a touch of poetry.

When the murder plot was disclosed in Part II, I was rather concerned for the sake of the novel. Its symbolism seemed almost laughable. However, I'm relieved (spoiler alert*) that it didn't come to fruition. Contrary to my initial expectations, the novel appears to be a vindication of the suburban man, Eliot Nailles, and his values.

Part II was my least favorite section of the book. I simply don't understand Paul Hammer for a moment. He is a man who desires to awaken the people of Bullet Park. I wish Cheever had made an attempt to at least explain the reasoning behind Hammer's thoughts. I detest it when it's left as "He's insane, because, come on, he had a hard life." That's not an explanation. Overall, it's a "wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful" 3.5.

How can anyone fail to fall for a book with the opening line "Paint me a small railroad station then, ten minutes before dark."

This simple yet captivating sentence has the power to draw readers in and make them eager to explore what lies ahead.

The image it creates is vivid and mysterious, leaving us wondering about the story that will unfold around this small railroad station at dusk.

It makes us curious about the characters who might be present, the events that might occur, and the emotions that will be evoked.

Such an opening line is like a hook, luring us into the world of the book and making us unable to resist its charm.

It sets the tone and atmosphere for the entire story, promising a journey filled with adventure, romance, or perhaps even mystery.

With just a few words, the author has managed to capture our attention and make us believe that this book is going to be something special.

I picked up this book because of its nice cover. The moment I saw it, it caught my eye. Then, when I read the hilarious premise, I knew I had to buy it. And boy, was I not disappointed!

As I started reading, I was immediately drawn in by the beautiful prose and the wonderful humour. Cheever's writing is truly a delight. The way he weaves words together to create such vivid images and engaging stories is remarkable.

Each page is filled with wit and charm, making it impossible to put the book down. I found myself laughing out loud at some of the absurd situations and characters.

After finishing this book, I am eager to read more by Cheever. I have a feeling that his other works will be just as enjoyable and entertaining. I can't wait to explore more of his literary world and see what other gems he has in store for me.

„Szlag niech trafi te jasne światła lamp, przy których nikt nie czyta, tę nieustanną muzykę, której nikt nie słucha, i te koncertowe fortepiany, na których nikt nie umie grać. Krew niech zaleje te białe domy, zadłużone hipotecznie aż po same rynny.

Niech będą przeklęci ich właściciele, którzy ograbili oceany z ryb, żeby żywić norki, i potem szyć sobie z nich futra. Niech będą przeklęte ich półki biblioteczne, na których stoi tylko jedna książka - oprawiony w różowy brokat spis telefonów. Niech będzie przeklęta ich hipokryzja i czcze frazesy, ich karty kredytowe i rabat, jaki udzielają szaleństwom ludzkiego ducha.”

Perhaps in no other of Cheever's works does such a blatant contempt for the wealthy ring out so clearly. Looking at the author's oeuvre, „Bullet Park” is not among the most highly regarded by readers, but it is difficult for me to find its flaws. When the author has already achieved a certain artistry in dealing with a given theme, it is hard to fault him much. Of course, one could say that the story „The Swimmer” contains much more content revealing the senseless pursuit of human goods that drive us out of emotions, but „Bullet Park” satisfied me sufficiently. When we look behind those beautifully manicured lawns and perfectly painted fences of the American suburbs of the 1960s, we look into the jaws of an unstable neighborhood, behind whose doors lurk grief, boredom, and depression, all dressed up in dark intentions, black humor, and accurate diagnoses of society typical of Cheever's writing.

Cheever's portrayal in „Bullet Park” offers a scathing critique of the superficial and materialistic lifestyle of the affluent. The description of the empty lamps, unheard music, and unused pianos emphasizes the hollowness of their existence. The condemnation of the homeowners who exploit the oceans and fill their libraries with a single, absurd book further highlights their moral bankruptcy. The story peels back the layers of the seemingly idyllic suburban facade to reveal the underlying turmoil and unhappiness. It serves as a reminder that wealth and possessions do not necessarily bring true fulfillment or a meaningful life.