Dark stories, not for the faint of heart.

Paul Bowles has a remarkable talent for creating a rich and immersive atmosphere. His stories are usually set abroad in exotic locations, which adds an extra layer of allure and mystery.

However, it must be noted that his works are often shocking and violent. There aren't many happy endings here, as Bowles seems to delight in exploring the darker side of human nature.

Despite this, I found myself so thoroughly enjoying some of his stories that I couldn't resist starting to read another one of his works, "The Sheltering Sky".

This novel promises to be just as captivating and thought-provoking as his other stories, and I can't wait to see where the narrative takes me.

I highly recommend Paul Bowles to anyone who enjoys dark and atmospheric fiction that challenges the reader's expectations.

These are well-written as far as that goes, but I couldn't get myself to finish all of them.

Perhaps it's because my attention span waned or there were other distractions. However, it's important to note that the quality of the writing is not in question.

Unless there is special interest in the topic, it might be a good idea to start with the best of these. This way, you can engage with the most captivating and relevant content right from the start.

By doing so, you increase the likelihood of staying interested and motivated to explore further. Additionally, beginning with the best can provide a solid foundation and set a high standard for the rest of the reading experience.

So, when faced with a collection of well-written pieces, take a moment to assess and choose the one that seems most appealing or relevant to you. It could make all the difference in your enjoyment and understanding of the material.

I have a penchant for having several books simultaneously on my bedside table. Here is one that has been lingering there for a while.

Actually, it's not precisely this book; it's a Selected Works edition. I almost discarded it when I completed the travel writing section. I struggled to overlook the excessive amount of luggage he seemed to require to cart around.

Subsequently, the biographical pages detailing his childhood truly put me off, much like most "exceptional" early childhood biographies do. I read the novella, "Too Far From Home," and was left disappointed. It is a decent story, but it lacks substance. The language fails to do justice to the narrative.

Then... THEN, I came across the short story about three leather workers who depart from one place by camel to journey to a market. They are deceived into接纳 a stranger into their group, who ultimately kills all three of them - the last in a particularly gruesome manner.

Surprisingly, the murderer/thief receives his just deserts on earth from some tribal members of the slain, as well as with the connivance of the French authorities. This is a story that could easily have been featured in the "Shorts" column of a newspaper, and Bowles' telling of it is rather dry. However, it is perfectly suited to the subject matter. It is perfectly chilling.

Not for nothing, I truly hope I have the opportunity to write for as long as Paul Bowles did.

The first story in this collection dates back to the mid-1940s, while the last one is from the early 90s (he passed away in 1999). Although a single substantial volume may not seem like a great deal considering such a relatively long span of time, it appears that he was quite occupied throughout his life with other endeavors. Besides some travel writing, music, and translations, if you've heard of him, chances are you might know him as "that dude who lived in Tangier for most of his life." These days, he is probably most closely associated with Morocco, especially in his attempts to capture the culture as he perceived it during a particular time period. He serves as a good entry point into Moroccan music of that era, having released a set of recordings he made while traversing the country in the late fifties, which was later expanded a few years ago into a much larger collection (which I own and find quite nice).

From a writing perspective, I've seen people associate him with the Beat writers of the fifties (such as Ginsberg, Kerouac, Burroughs, etc.), but I'm not sure if he truly belongs in that group. He got his start much earlier, hanging out with Gertrude Stein in 1930s Paris, and by 1947, he had completely relocated to his new home in Tangier. Eventually, he would mostly shuttle between there and a winter home in Sri Lanka, with the occasional visit to the US. His most famous novel, "The Sheltering Sky," came early, which I possess and will get around to reading eventually. While he did publish a handful of novels, the short stories soon far outnumbered the longer works. Otherwise, he composed music, received visitors who made the journey to Morocco, and more or less got to enjoy living in a place he really liked while achieving international fame, which probably had its advantages.

The stories here don't seem to encompass all of his short fiction, but at over six hundred pages, I think you can safely say you're getting the bulk of it. I don't know what kind of person he was like in real life, but he definitely seemed to envision fictional characters being brutally killed a lot (or at least suffering), as a significant number of these stories end up with at least one person in them dead, sometimes because they were foolish and sometimes just because they made the proverbial wrong turn at Albuquerque. Perhaps due to his fascination with Saharan and Arabic culture, quite a few stories are along the lines of culture clash stories that go horribly wrong, with someone's inability to understand exactly how a culture functions resulting in very, very bad consequences for them. It's a theme he likes to revisit over and over, something that can become a bit tiresome when you encounter a stretch of really short works that seem to be pounding the same theme into your head repeatedly... and may even seem a bit excessive when he really starts to treat the local cultures as some alien species that Americans or Brits can't possibly fathom, which begins to give the whole experience a sort of pseudo-Lovecraftian vibe where people go mad just from shopping in a bazaar. I'm sure some degree of culture shock/adjustment was inevitable, especially in the days before everything was global and you couldn't find a McDonalds in Tangier (spoiler alert: you can now), but they still have two arms and two legs and eat food, so even if people in a dark alley with curved knives kidnap you, there's still a chance of finding some common ground. Or maybe not.

The creepier/weirder stuff appears early on, with some grisly stories that caught everyone's attention. "A Distant Episode" is one of the ones that is most frequently cited, where a professor's visit to a foreign country quickly veers into "Hostel" territory. It's a good introduction to Bowles' style, which is spare and sparse and slightly detached, setting the mood well even as things gradually disintegrate. That vibe persists through most of the 40s/50s era tales, so you have the "marriage falling apart in an exotic land" vibe of "Call at Corazon" (which has a rather cold ending), the "boy ticks off local culture" vibe of "Pages from Cold Point," the "pastor doesn't understand foreign religions" vibe of "Pastor Dowe at Tacate"... you get the idea. Even the violent stories simmer more than erupt, with the collapse coming both gently and brutally. It's effective but often affects the characters more than it does the reader... no matter how many bad things happen, it was rare that I felt the same chilling sense of glimpsing a truth I'd rather not understand about how the world works in the same way I did in the stories of, say, Flannery O'Connor, where it seems like God is very present, just not in a way that's directly helpful and it's clear that the universe's concept of justice conflicts very sharply with the human concept of it, if there's even any intersection.

Bowles' stories, on the other hand, seem to float more on the notion that most of the people reading them are never going to have visited any of the places depicted in these stories or perhaps even met people immersed in these cultures in the same way that Bowles was. That loses a little of its power today, unless he pushes things to extremes... "The Delicate Prey" is a good example where it's savage enough to be shocking, where the reasons are both logical and just out of reach even as it again doesn't quite cut to the heart.

The more Latin American oriented stories don't seem to push the "ooh, different cultures" buttons as hard, and so end up being more stories about bad things happening to people ("Dona Faustina," "Fourth Day Out from Santa Cruz") in places that aren't in the US. And I actually enjoy his first person tales quite a bit ("If I Should Open My Mouth," where a lazy guy tries to be a mass murderer, or even the late period "In Absentia" where he gets snippy with a relative), mostly because the "voice" ends up being a little less detached, with a bit more urbane scorn, if that makes any sense.

Around the 1950s, he seemed to focus less on the experience of being in a foreign country and more on people being rotten to each other, which changes the mood a little. There's a run here that, even if "like" is the wrong word, I find at least memorable... "The Hours After Noon" (clueless parents act clueless toward their daughter) and "The Frozen Fields" (a highlight for me in how it intersects a kid's point of view with a history he wasn't around for and comes close to stabbing you in the heart) before the 1960s arrive and he starts to go with very short stories once again focused on, if not Morocco, at least stuff associated with it. Some of them seem to be him retelling Arabic fables, and while I don't know if they're a substitute for actual Arabic literature, it's an interesting extended look into Bowles' interpretation of the culture that he eventually spent decades living in (though I hope "The Garden" is metaphorical). There's enough variety to keep it from becoming monotonous, even if the extremely short lengths of some stretches make it feel a bit choppy. But then you aren't trying to read them all at once anyway.

Eventually, the longer tales prove to be a bit more effective. "The Time of Friendship" depicts an older Swiss woman who summers in an African country and befriends a young boy... the length allows him to expand the story a bit and have you get to know both characters before things take a bleak turn. "Here to Learn" is another good longer story, where a teenager leaves her village to hang out with foreigners and survives in situations where everyone treats her like a museum exhibit, even as she learns to live in the world.

Later on, he starts to get experimental, with stories that veer toward hallucinations ("Allal," which is decently crazy... the later "Kitty" feels like a gentler version) or are outright stream of consciousness (three stories that have a place name and a year in the title and... aren't super-readable) to a couple epistolary stories ("Unwelcome Words," gleefully nasty, the aforementioned "In Absentia") before finally closing with the relatively normal "Too Far From Home," which seems to return to his earlier stories about coping with a foreign culture, only now having a wearier, more lived-in feel about them, less about plunging into the realms of the unknown and more about figuring out the mundane stuff like communicating with the servants and going to the store.

Needless to say, there's quite a bit here, and even if Bowles tends to have the same general interests for large portions of this, you can tell he's fiddling with the details, trying to find different ways to express it. There are no bad stories in here, only one that doesn't hit as hard, and the less effective tales are so short that it may not matter anyway. But flipping through them to review this, it's impressive how many I remembered after reading just a few paragraphs. To some extent, his stories seem to be of their time, when Americans needed another American to give us a glimpse into other cultures. We don't have that need anymore... I can find translations of many, many authors from other countries that provide me with better gateways into the lives of people who aren't me. But Bowles has his own quirky point of view that's still worth reading... maybe people will be satisfied with "The Sheltering Sky" and have no need to explore further, but if that book made you wonder what else was out there, this one has enough good stories that even after you finish it, you may find yourself flipping through it again to revisit some that linger on the periphery and won't quite let go.

Maybe I'm not au fait with haute littérature.

However, I have to admit that I'd dock half a star due to the ungodly number of times I had to resort to a translation app to understand what the characters were saying.

It was a bit of a struggle at times.

But here's the thing, Goodreads doesn't have a half star option.

So, a full 5 stars it is.

And to be honest, it's not undeserved.

I was initially drawn to this work because of its ethereal charm.

The way the story was presented had a certain allure that kept me hooked from the start.

But as I delved deeper, I discovered the deep melancholia that ran through it.

This added another layer of complexity and depth to the narrative, making it truly captivating.

Despite the language barrier, I was able to appreciate the beauty and power of this literary piece.

It's a testament to the author's skill that even with the need for translation, the essence of the story still shone through.

I'm glad I took the time to read it and would highly recommend it to others.

I can't think of anyone who writes more strikingly than Bowles when it comes to The Self (often, but not always, a cultured Westerner) coming face-to-face with The Other. In Bowles's stories, other-ness functions like Nietzsche's void. When a protagonist stares into it, prods or investigates it, or even ostensibly subjugates it, it is always staring right back, waiting to infiltrate the protagonist and explode him or her from the inside.

Robert Stone, in his introduction to this edition of the collected stories, writes of a certain "'something missing'" that many readers of Bowles claim to feel and balk at. We "trade sympathy for the absence of ordinariness," Stone writes. However, it's more than that. If there is a single universe or sensibility uniting these stories, it's one in which the Other is utterly corrosive to the Self. It's not that Bowles has left empathy out of these stories; rather, he constructs stories in which empathy is impossible. There is a coldness here, a repetitive cruelty, that at times made these stories difficult for me to read.

So perhaps my giving these stories four stars instead of five is more a reflection of my own tastes and beliefs than it is of the icy power of Bowles's art. I'd argue, though, that for all the "absence of ordinariness" Bowles gives us in setting, character, and plot, in theme he strikes the same few notes over and over. He strikes them beautifully and masterfully, no doubt, but I still felt a certain monotony.

An American resides in Tangier, a city rich in history and culture.

He observes and experiences the life there, yet writes about the distant lands with a certain detachment.

His words seem to lack the warmth and passion that one might expect when describing a place so foreign and enchanting.

Perhaps it is his American upbringing that makes him view things from a more objective perspective.

Or maybe he is simply trying to present a different side of Tangier, one that is not often seen in the typical travelogues.

Whatever the reason, his writing offers a unique glimpse into the lives of the people in this North African city.

It makes readers wonder about the true nature of his relationship with Tangier and whether his dispassionate approach is a deliberate choice or a result of his personal disposition.

Nevertheless, his work serves as a reminder that there are many ways to experience and describe a place, and that sometimes, the most unexpected perspectives can be the most revealing.

Truly, he is a great writer. His works have left an indelible mark on the literary world. However, what a world view he has!

It is truly astonishing. His perception of the world seems so dark and pessimistic at times. One might wonder how he managed to carry on without succumbing to the weight of his own thoughts and emotions.

Perhaps it is his unwavering dedication to his craft that keeps him going. Through his writing, he is able to express the deepest recesses of his soul and make sense of the chaos that surrounds him.

Despite his unique world view, he has managed to touch the hearts and minds of countless readers. His works continue to be studied and admired, even years after they were first published.

In conclusion, while his world view may be a cause for concern, it is also what makes him such a remarkable and unforgettable writer.

The violent lit streak continues

It seems as if this trend of violent literature shows no sign of abating. The works in this genre are filled with such lovely lyrical brutality

The authors manage to describe the most heinous and violent acts in a way that is almost poetic. The words they use have a certain charm and beauty, even as they depict scenes of horror and bloodshed

This combination of violence and lyricism creates a unique reading experience. It draws the reader in, making them both repulsed and fascinated by the events unfolding on the page

Whether this is a passing fad or a lasting trend remains to be seen. But for now, the violent lit streak continues to captivate audiences and leave them with a sense of unease and wonder

This collection is precisely the opposite of what I should be reading at this moment.

The very first story within it is rather haunting, yet seems to lack a clear purpose. As a result, I quickly abandoned this volume.

I believe that my initial expectations were quite different from what this collection actually offers. It's possible that at some other point in time, I might be able to resume reading it.

Perhaps with a different mindset or under different circumstances, I could better appreciate the stories and their intended meanings.

However, for now, it simply doesn't align with my current interests or the kind of reading experience I'm seeking.

Maybe in the future, when I'm in a more receptive state, I'll give it another chance and discover something valuable within its pages.

Until then, it will remain on the shelf, waiting for its moment to shine.

At least, I firmly believe that I know.

If I were to start doubting my own eyes and ears, then perhaps it would be high time for me to give up entirely.

However, in relation to that thought, a rather ghastly little idea pops into my mind: am I really doubting my eyes and ears?

Obviously not; it is only my memory that I am beginning to question.

Memory, it seems, is a far more cunning trickster.

In that case, though, I must be stark, raving mad, because I can remember every single detail of those hours spent in the subway.

But here, right in front of me on the desk, are the boxes piled up, all twenty of them.

I know them intimately.

I glued down each little flap with the utmost care.

There is simply no mistaking them.

This is a truly shattering experience, and I feel ill, ill in every part of my being.

A voice within me says: “Accept the impossible.

Stop trying to force this to fit in with your preconceived notions of logic and probability.

Life would indeed be a rather sad affair if it held no surprises whatsoever.”

“But not this sort!” I reply.

“Nothing quite so fundamentally destructive of my understanding of the world!”

I am going to bed.

Everything is just all wrong.

Dark and brilliant, the collection truly stands out.

Each story within it weaves a captivating web of emotions and ideas. However, the most surprising turn comes in the last story.

It takes an unexpected nod towards forgiveness. In a world often filled with anger and resentment, this theme of forgiveness shines through like a bright light.

It makes the reader stop and reflect on the power of letting go and moving forward.

The author skillfully crafts this story, showing how forgiveness can bring about healing and transformation.

It is a beautiful and thought-provoking conclusion to a remarkable collection of stories.

Overall, the collection leaves a lasting impression, with its dark and brilliant themes and the unexpected twist of forgiveness in the final story.