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Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose by Raymond Carver
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Call If You Need Me Quotes Showing 1-14 of 14
“If we're lucky, writer and reader alike, we'll finish the last line or two of a short story and then just sit for a minute, quietly. Ideally, we'll ponder what we've just written or read; maybe our hearts or intellects will have been moved off the peg just a little from where they were before. Our body temperature will have gone up, or down, by a degree. Then, breathing evenly and steadily once more, we'll collect ourselves, writers and readers alike, get up, "created of warm blood and nerves" as a Chekhov character puts it, and go on to the next thing: Life. Always life.”
Raymond Carver, Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose
“Evan Connell said once that he knew he was finished with a short story when he found himself going through it and taking out commas and then going through the story again and putting the commas back in the same places. I like that way of working on something. I respect that kind of care for what is being done. That's all we have, finally, the words, and they had better be the right ones, with the punctuation in the right places so that they an best say what they are meant to say. If the words are heavy with the writer's own unbridled emotions, or if they are imprecise and inaccurate for some other reason -- if the worlds are in any way blurred -- the reader's eyes will slide right over them and nothing will be achieved. Henry James called this sort of hapless writing 'weak specification'.”
Raymond Carver, Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose
“V.S. Pritchett's definition of a short story is 'something glimpsed from the corner of the eye, in passing.' Notice the 'glimpse' part of this. First the glimpse. Then the glimpse gives life, turned into something that illuminates the moment and may, if we're lucky -- that word again -- have even further ranging consequences and meaning. The short story writer's task is to invest the glimpse with all that is in his power. He'll bring his intelligence and literary skill to bear (his talent), his sense of proportion and sense of the fitness of things: of how things out there really are and how he sees those things -- like no one else sees them. And this is done through the use of clear and specific language, language used so as to bring to life the details that will light up the story for the reader. For the details to be concrete and convey meaning, the language must be accurate and precisely given. The words can be so precise they may even sound flat, but they can still carry; if used right they can hit all the notes.”
Raymond Carver, Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose
“It was [John Gardner's] conviction that if the words in the story were blurred because of the author's insensitivity, carelessness, or sentimentality, then the story suffered from a tremendous handicap. But there was something even worse and something that must be avoided at all costs: if the words and the sentiments were dishonest, the author was faking it, writing about things he didn't care about or believe in, then nobody could ever care anything about it.”
Raymond Carver, Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose
“I have a three-by-five up there with this fragment of a sentence from a story by Chekhov: “… and suddenly everything became clear to him.â€� I find these words filled with wonder and possibility. I love their simple clarity, and the hint of revelation that’s implied. There is mystery, too. What has been unclear before? Why is it just now becoming clear? What’s happened? Most of all—what now? There are consequences as a result of such sudden awakenings. I feel a sharp sense of relief—and anticipation.”
Raymond Carver, Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose
“Quella notte, avvolto nelle coperte, avrebbe ricordato quei pochi minuti di intensa sensazione del tempo che passava, del giorno che finiva.”
Raymond Carver, Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose
“Fuori la notte era un enorme sogno estraneo.”
Raymond Carver, Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose
“Quella durata che rende le Piramidi pilastri
di neve, e tutto il passato un attimo.
Sir Thomas Brown”
Raymond Carver, Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose
“È un pezzo ormai che mi manchi. Mi sei mancato tanto che ormai è come se ti fossi perso, non so come spiegarlo. Ti ho perso. Non sei più mio.”
Raymond Carver, Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose
“Nick e Joanne guardavano l'incendio tenendosi stretti, ma mentre lei gli accarezzava distrattamente una spalla, Nick fu assalito dalla sensazione familiare, che ogni tanto lo attanagliava, di non sapere bene a cosa lei stesse pensando.”
Raymond Carver, Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose
“Io non è che sentissi la mancanza dei sogni. Tanto avevo i suoi di sogni su cui riflettere, se proprio mi serviva un'altra vita. E poi avevo una vicina che cantava o canticchiava tutto il giorno. Tutto sommato, potevo ritenermi fortunato.”
Raymond Carver, Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose
“Mia moglie ha l'abitudine di raccontarmi i suoi sogni quando si sveglia. Io le porto il caffè e un bicchiere di succo di frutta e mi siedo accanto al letto mentre lei si sveglia e si scosta i capelli dalla faccia. Ha la solita espressione di quando ci si sveglia, ma anche lo sguardo di chi torna da qualche parte.”
Raymond Carver, Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose
“Però ha certi occhi, disse Bonnie.
Che hanno gli occhi?
Sono tristi. Gli occhi più tristi che abbia mai visto in un uomo.”
Raymond Carver, Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose
“La letteratura, poi, ha questo di bello: che puoi riacciuffarla in un momento qualunque del tuo percorso, che non scade mai, che non abbandona mai davvero le librerie.”
Raymond Carver, Call If You Need Me: The Uncollected Fiction and Other Prose