I remember well being haunted by this story by Bowles in Halpern's anthology The Art of the Tale, long ago, thinking something along the lines of what the desert does to the constructed intellect - picking the bones clean - is built on its disregard for language as the arbiter of reality.
Thanks for this. As always, beautifully and concisely written.
It's a pretty amazing anthology. Pretty sure I was assigned it by the poet Charlie Simic, who I studied with for my MA in poetry at UNH a century ago. It was published in 1987 or so. The class was focused on European short stories, as I recall. Three other stories that have haunted me from that collection: This Way to the Gas, by Tadeusz Borowski, Going to Meet the Man, by Baldwin, and The Bound Man, by Ilse Aichinger, perhaps my favorite short story of all. The latter of those is not disturbing like the others, but strange and wonderful and richly symbolic in ways that, for me, kept reverberating.
Fascinating. You've identified something I'm aware of but had no words for. "pilot light of consciousness that never goes out."
A writer friend who died last year from advanced pancreatic cancer, wrote vividly about the physical pain, the struggle, the doctor delivering the diagnosis. In the middle of horror, body recoiling, she thinks, "So this is what it will be, then." This struck me as dignified and deeply human. Not her acceptance of being given six months to live, with no options, but the question we all have, how will I die? And that she answered it.
Also, "Some stories you dream before you read them" I had no idea this happens to other people!
I remember well being haunted by this story by Bowles in Halpern's anthology The Art of the Tale, long ago, thinking something along the lines of what the desert does to the constructed intellect - picking the bones clean - is built on its disregard for language as the arbiter of reality.
Thanks for this. As always, beautifully and concisely written.
that's very smart about the desert. and i don't know that anthology! i'll see if i can get it from the library this afternoon.
It's a pretty amazing anthology. Pretty sure I was assigned it by the poet Charlie Simic, who I studied with for my MA in poetry at UNH a century ago. It was published in 1987 or so. The class was focused on European short stories, as I recall. Three other stories that have haunted me from that collection: This Way to the Gas, by Tadeusz Borowski, Going to Meet the Man, by Baldwin, and The Bound Man, by Ilse Aichinger, perhaps my favorite short story of all. The latter of those is not disturbing like the others, but strange and wonderful and richly symbolic in ways that, for me, kept reverberating.
Great piece. I loved reading this. Thanks much
Fascinating. You've identified something I'm aware of but had no words for. "pilot light of consciousness that never goes out."
A writer friend who died last year from advanced pancreatic cancer, wrote vividly about the physical pain, the struggle, the doctor delivering the diagnosis. In the middle of horror, body recoiling, she thinks, "So this is what it will be, then." This struck me as dignified and deeply human. Not her acceptance of being given six months to live, with no options, but the question we all have, how will I die? And that she answered it.
Also, "Some stories you dream before you read them" I had no idea this happens to other people!
Wow, that's fascinating & powerful about your friend, Rhonda, thank you for sharing!