My favorite book is (possibly) "Where the God of Love Hangs Out," by Amy Bloom. I bought it at the Borders next to the Kips Bay AMC, in an era when Borders outposts still existed, and the cover features a vaginal peach and a penis-stem--a stem jutting out from a cherry, meant to evoke thoughts of the human penis.
A story is nothing without great characters. Bloom's book--her third and most recent story collection--has characters who "speak to me":
*The crabby middle-aged woman in the middle of an affair. Her boyfriend can't accept the watch she just bought; "I already have one, and my wife will connect the dots." So our heroine calmly takes the old watch, drops it on the road, and runs it over with her SUV. "So sorry," she says. "Terrible accident. Enjoy your new watch."
*The woman who can't stand her own father, and sometimes doodles an image of his gravestone, as a form of therapy. She also sends him cigars, in the hope that he will smoke daily and speed up his own death.
*The woman who silently tortures her daughter-in-law. She wants to feel martyred, so she rejects an offer of tea. She wants to feel superior, so she offers some comments about the dust that has gathered behind the fridge.
These people are a mess, but their sloppiness isn't extraordinary. In a Bloom story, a dramatic high-point might be a hero's silent wish to say something bitchy, followed by a deep breath and a (false) diplomatic remark. A small triumph. Not everyone would think to dramatize this kind of detail. But Bloom does--and she makes you hold your *own* breath over tiny, tiny things--and, so, she recreates, or seems to recreate, actual life. She says, "Look, this is the stuff that happens to you every day, in all its beauty and wonder and ugliness. I can offer this stuff, because I'm paying attention."
I think, at this stage in Bloom's career, she was working a great deal on TV, and the book has some funny lines about behind-the-scenes TV work. In the middle of fellatio, a character pauses to stare at the glowing living-room screen, and notes a news anchor, "the young lady who dyed her hair brown to go to Afghanistan." Also, another character works as a kind of talent scout, and he needs to staff a new cop show, and "the women and villains" must all be under 5'5"--because we're working with a 5'5" Columbo.
God is in the details, and this book gives us so many vivid scenes. Here is just one: An abusive father grows tired of the quiet at the dinner table. "Am I talking to myself?" he asks, with exasperation. His bratty teenage son gives an unwise answer: "It appears that way." Another child laughs--and, aware that this may end with violence, the two children escape. The bully takes out his anger on his wife: He throws all the food on the floor. And his wife--unwilling to fight--quietly gathers the food, replaces the creamed onions with "improvised carrot-raisin salad," and goes off to feed her cowering children on the sly.
I revisit these people many times; I've "known" them for a few years. It's like Bloom takes a kaleidoscope and holds it up the world, and makes you see your daily existence in a new way. That's a gift. I'll always recommend this book.
A story is nothing without great characters. Bloom's book--her third and most recent story collection--has characters who "speak to me":
*The crabby middle-aged woman in the middle of an affair. Her boyfriend can't accept the watch she just bought; "I already have one, and my wife will connect the dots." So our heroine calmly takes the old watch, drops it on the road, and runs it over with her SUV. "So sorry," she says. "Terrible accident. Enjoy your new watch."
*The woman who can't stand her own father, and sometimes doodles an image of his gravestone, as a form of therapy. She also sends him cigars, in the hope that he will smoke daily and speed up his own death.
*The woman who silently tortures her daughter-in-law. She wants to feel martyred, so she rejects an offer of tea. She wants to feel superior, so she offers some comments about the dust that has gathered behind the fridge.
These people are a mess, but their sloppiness isn't extraordinary. In a Bloom story, a dramatic high-point might be a hero's silent wish to say something bitchy, followed by a deep breath and a (false) diplomatic remark. A small triumph. Not everyone would think to dramatize this kind of detail. But Bloom does--and she makes you hold your *own* breath over tiny, tiny things--and, so, she recreates, or seems to recreate, actual life. She says, "Look, this is the stuff that happens to you every day, in all its beauty and wonder and ugliness. I can offer this stuff, because I'm paying attention."
I think, at this stage in Bloom's career, she was working a great deal on TV, and the book has some funny lines about behind-the-scenes TV work. In the middle of fellatio, a character pauses to stare at the glowing living-room screen, and notes a news anchor, "the young lady who dyed her hair brown to go to Afghanistan." Also, another character works as a kind of talent scout, and he needs to staff a new cop show, and "the women and villains" must all be under 5'5"--because we're working with a 5'5" Columbo.
God is in the details, and this book gives us so many vivid scenes. Here is just one: An abusive father grows tired of the quiet at the dinner table. "Am I talking to myself?" he asks, with exasperation. His bratty teenage son gives an unwise answer: "It appears that way." Another child laughs--and, aware that this may end with violence, the two children escape. The bully takes out his anger on his wife: He throws all the food on the floor. And his wife--unwilling to fight--quietly gathers the food, replaces the creamed onions with "improvised carrot-raisin salad," and goes off to feed her cowering children on the sly.
I revisit these people many times; I've "known" them for a few years. It's like Bloom takes a kaleidoscope and holds it up the world, and makes you see your daily existence in a new way. That's a gift. I'll always recommend this book.
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