'Lady Bird', magic at the "wrong side of the tracks"

Lady Bird

Another high school movie about coming of age? Another “indie” film, with the hype this time arriving in her scriptwriter and debuting director, Greta Gerwig (fifth woman in history to be nominated in the latest category at the Oscars), the queen of low-budget cinema? Well, the answer is yes, if you are only interested in the surface and the headlights of things. But if you are willing to go further and allow yourself to get haunted by top-notch acting and storyline (yes, there’s still hope for screenwriting!), “Lady Bird” could be your movie. So, let me introduce you to Christine “Lady Bird” MacPherson...

Effervescent, charismatic, obstinate-to-the-point-of-rebellion and quirky (she gave a name to her by herself, to begin with) 17-year-old Christine, played majestically by Ronan Saoirse, is a teenager in the verge of becoming an adult. She is a senior student in a Catholic high school in Sacramento, California (Gerwig’s hometown), facing her last year of college and the big decisions in the making and ahead of her. She dreams of getting out of “The Midwest of California”, as she called it, aiming for higher expectations, adventures, an artistic future, savoir-vivre and social refinement. Opportunity and struggle are just behind the corner...

Because Gerwig allow us to follow Lady Bird in that last year, one that looks as crucial as well as full of experiences for our leading character: romance, a play, friendships that allow her to be part of the coolest gang of the school, while she maintains a constant battle with her mother Marion (striking performance by Laurie Metcalf, who should have won the Oscar, imo), who wants her to apply for local universities instead, settling her for more modest and less expensive goals. As I said, it looks like a simple and unsurprising development for a movie on the surface. And it’s true there won’t be any groundbreaking revelations, unexpected twists or revolutionary sci-fi scenes. But who needs them when you are rewarded with such an empathic, extremely well crafted, detailed and touchingly rounded film.

The amount of standout conversations (or discussions, or just one-liners), matchless scenes or moments that are going to captivate the viewer in ‘Lady Bird’ is plain impressive. In some sort of way (not comparing the narratives or the tone, very different) is that sort of excellency you find in Richard Yates, Carson McCullers, Anne Beattie or Raymond Carver's writing, that sort of “can't be better said/summed up/encapsulated than this”. I’m thinking on how that dress searching, with mother and daughter arguing again, is resolved. Or the one when both are sharing the bathroom and Lady Bird asks about her father’s depression. Or the first scene when his father drives her to the school (arresting Tracy Letts). Or how he is “located” in the room and how he behaves when the big fight arrives between mother and daughter explodes. I could go on and on... That sort of “screen magic”, aside from pure talent, of course, has to come from Gerwig’s knowing exactly, from the heart, what she wanted her characters to say and, what’s even more mesmerizing, being able to translate from the paper to the screen. It’s obvious this story is an extremely personal, intimate one… one that a masterful director has transformed into something universal.

The other major factor that can’t be praised enough is how Gerwig deals with what’s clearly the most important bond that’s about to be cut with Lady Bird’s leaving home: family. An imperfect, flawed, modest, all flesh and bones (so refreshing) family. Money is a real, burdening issue (how many American movies deal with that?), one that curses the despaired yet kindhearted father, torments the quibbling mother and frustrates our main character, surrounded by well-off classmates at high school, uncertain of her future because of that lack of resources. And with that comes the relationship between mother and daughter, easily among the most fascinating ever shown in a film. The mixture between intimate connection and tough love, Christine’s need of validation from her mother and Marion’s constant pressure towards her daughter looking to help her to be the “best version of herself” is just mindblowing, impossible not to get emotional as the movie conclusion approaches.

On the not so positive side, several secondary characters and plots are not that remarkable. For example, one can argue the “romantic quests” within the movie could be more developed, as Kyle (played by Timothée Chalamet) is nothing more than a caricature, and Danny (I’m seeing Lucas Hedges a lot recently, another great performance) is somewhat lost as the movie advances when her role deserved more. Same applies to the new friendship with the posher girl of her institute, although it's true allows the director to talk about class angst. Or that the head nun of the high school is “too nice” to be credible. But these underachievements are not that relevant to undermine the film. No, ‘Lady Bird’ might not be reinventing the wheel, not even reformulating the teenager coming of age story. As a matter of fact, that's her only real flaw, having the feeling of being in front of a story you have seen several times already. But to be honest, not many come to my mind as fulfilling, heartwarming, smart and moving as ‘Lady Bird’.

SCORE: 7,75/10

'Manchester by the Sea' the living dead

Manchester by the Sea

It’s been a while since a movie nearly moved to tears. But ‘Manchester by the Sea’ did. A moving, content, fiercely acted, poignant and riveting film about grief. One so real that seems to come from some place called heart, yet at the same time, it’s clear it has been carefully 'constructed', masterfully planned and scripted by director Kenneth Lonergan, like this was a lost short "gritty realism" story by Raymond Carver, Russell Banks or Richard Yates turned into a stunning motion picture.

The plot is quite simple. Gloomy janitor, antisocial plummer and obvious fucked-up young man Lee Chandler (Casey Affleck) receives the sad news of his older brother Joe (Kyle Chandler) passing away, reluctantly returning to the sailor’s town of Manchester-by-the-Sea, coastal Massachussetts, to take charge of the funeral’s arrangements as well of his nephew Patrick (Lucas Hedges). But aside from the loss of his brother, there’s a second mental blow awaiting our leading character: in his testament, Joe made him the sole guardian of Patrick, expecting him to stay with the popular-frisky teenager. An unexpected circumstance that forces Lee to confront the ghosts of his past there. The terrible reasons why he left his hometown.

‘Manchester by the Sea’ then reveals itself as an absorbing, gripping look into human pain. In one hand, we have the struggles of Lee and Patrick to adapt to the new 'environment' proposed by their brother/father, having to deal together with a tough amount of decisions and choices ahead of them. Common, mundane, relatable and somewhat manageable grief, one where routines and silly situations can even brought a smile (deadpan humour) to the spectator despite the affliction (majority of them consequence of the umm, 'lively' day-to-day 'duties' of Patrick). Life is absurd... and tends to end too quickly. But on the other hand, we have a real grasp of what 'hell on Earth' must be in Lee’s existence. An anguish that slowly reveals to the viewer in the form of flashbacks recounting his previous life within the community, his marriage with ex-wife Randi (Michelle Williams) and the cataclysmic tragedy that changed, better said condemned, Lee’s life forever.

In my opinion, what makes the movie works that well is how naturally the development of the film flows despite the dimension of the drama. That’s because Lonergan’s script is simply mind-blowing (most deserved Oscar). He’s able to handle the gravitas of the plot at two levels. There are some key, terrific, unforgettable scenes, but they are encapsulated between a vast amount of little-minor ones, where a facial expression, a small gesture, a subtle detail in a conversation going nowhere (or the lack of it) says it all. All to depict the misery of a broken human being, a person that, in order to keep going, has forced himself to be numb, permanently repressed, completely inaccessible, isolated (even punished?) by choice. And now has to adapt or fail into a new role that demands him to take responsibilities, interact with people and having strength of mind.

And that brings us to talk about acting. What Casey Affleck has done is nearly beyond words (the award was a no-brainer). What a performance for the ages! His ability to convey all the inner unrest, the agony of an impossible existence, the choking guilt, with such self-control and determination cannot be praised enough. But it wouldn’t be fair not to stress the excellent job of Luke Hedges (same can be said to their chemistry together) or the secondary but, as always, perfect performance of Michelle Williams (what a brutal, decisive scene they have) or C. J. Wilson as Joe’s best friend/boat business partner. All the characters have 'flesh and bones', their actions & behaviour gets you, and their suffering affects you. Kudos to them.

Being honest, all the complaints I can think of are so minor compared with the achievements of the movie that are almost ridiculous to point out. The unnecessary highlights of the music in several of the aforementioned crucial scenes. The dubious, not really developed, role of Patrick’s mother (played by Gretchen Mol). The "nightmare" scene, excessive imo. The kind of 'easy' economic conditions the immediate future holds up to Patrick and Lee, something that doesn’t look completely credible (being clearly a white working class story). But as I said, this sort of underachievements are almost anecdotes compared with the overall strength and honesty of the film dealing with such a sensible and difficult subject. So when you hear the 'I can't beat it', these four simple words, you completely understand and feel devastated too.

SCORE: 8,25/10

The Indie Anthology 77: essential songs

For the next chapter of our revamped Anthology we haven't moved very long. From Dunedin to Adelaide (I have the feeling I could made all music Blog sections with music from the Antipodes), to introduce you to one of the greatest pop songwriters of Australia (which, in my book, means being one of the world's best), never praised enough and, sadly not known enough outside his country. Let's go South!

Song: Before Too Long
Artist: Paul Kelly and the Coloured Girls
Year: 1986

My beloved Neil Finn is, of course, the one who "blame". I got so obsessed with his music (solo, Crowded House, with his brother Tim, with Splitz Enz that makes me remember he might have another well-deserved spot in this section) that it was "mandatory" for me to seek for likewise artists/bands. It wouldn't take too long (sorry about that) for Paul's tunes to conquer me... I mean, how many songs as instantly addictive as 'Before Too Long' or 'Leaps and Bounds' (choruses, choruses, choruses!) can you resist before converting yourself into a devoted fan. The surprise (same as what happened with Crowded House, and sadly very similar with all the stunning music coming from the Antipodes) was discovering Kelly was pretty huge in Australia while he was mostly unknown here. So there was plenty to hunt back and got in love with. 'Careless', 'Dumb Things', 'To Her Door', 'Deeper Water'. Besides, Paul is also a great storyteller (please listen to 'Bradman'!)... for God's sake, he even wrote a tune, 'Everything's Turning Into White', and named an entire album, 'So Much Water Close to Home', based on Raymond Carver stories, beat that! I could go on for days as, like Neil, Paul Kelly is simply one of pop finest craftsmen. So when the two gathered in 2012-2013 for that 'Goin' Your Way' tour/album together it was a true feast... and a natural "match", made in music heavens (and I'll blame myself forever for not living there, what a magic bunch of concerts must had been). A maestro "found" thanks to another maestro.

“Certain Women”, what we talk about when we talk...

Certain Women 

One thing is for certain. I’ll try to watch every film that Kelly Reichardt’s direct. In a time and age of an epidemy of movie superheroes (OK, some of them might not be that bad) and hipster movies as shallow as a perfume ad, she’s a real, refreshing, major hope. Subtle, heartfelt, not pleasing in a Hollywodesque (yeah, I mean simplistic) or Drivesque way (yeah, I mean fake, artificial), yet absorbing and, what’s even more important, enduring. ‘Certain Women’ is another example of Reichardt’s fascinating and commanding talents.

Based on Maile Meloy’s short stories collection ‘Both Ways Is the Only Way I Want It‘ (which I hope it arrives to Spain, so intrigued), the film carries us to Southern Montana’s isolated prairie towns to meet four women and her lives in a triple, sequenced storytelling, where the links between them are extremely accidental (well, there’s no connection whatsoever between the second and third story, to begin with), yet the final codas of each story assemble some sort of unified conclusion… that every viewer would have to find & decide by himself/herself. Take your time, don’t rush. Allow yourself for a little more than 90 minutes without looking to your mobile phone. I know you can. The rewards are awaiting you.

The triptych of stories that ‘Certain Women’ is begins with Laura (played by Laura Dern), a provincial lawyer dealing (maybe I should say stuck) with what it seems an affaire going nowhere (he’s a married guy) plus a deeply troubled, close to craziness, client (a building-site carpenter) who is desperate for some sort of emotional support at the same time he seeks for professional advice… in a case he has zero chance of winning. We have a pretty surREAL action scene (don’t look for heroes, everyone one here is all flesh and bones, happily) before we shift to the second story, but despite being the more dynamic of the trio, imo is also the weakest, with some scenes that seem too awkward to relate (the car conversation, for example) with.

But things only get better from now on. The second story (the connection with the previous one is revealed early) is the confirmation Reichardt’s could be the perfect choice to translate all the great stories of Bobbie Ann Mason, Lorrie Moore, Jean Stafford or, sure, Raymond Carver, into arresting films. Lead by Gina (played by the always amazing Michelle Williams, a regular on Reichardt’s filmography), here’s a quiet but poignant and crystal-clear tale of marriage and motherhood (a pure millennial teenage daughter) struggles. One in which trying to convince an elderly and neighbour to give (or sell) them a pile of original indigenous sandstone he has unused in his yard and that she wants to use for their new house, becomes an obsession and a factor for realizing the disaffection, the rupture she feels regarding her family, her hopes. The inability to communicate, the muted depression, the disconnection… the discontent. Terrific.

And then comes the third piece, which is simply majestic, about the connection (and the lack of it) between two women: a timid, good-spirited and solitary rancher (didn’t know Lily Gladstone before, but what a presence in front of the camera, what an eloquence with just a look, what an actress we have found) and Elizabeth (flawless performance by Kristen Stewart), a young education law night school teacher that has to drive for four hours back and forth to reach the town and her home. It might be the oldest love story ever-told, where one part doesn’t correspond the other, but it’s very hard for me to remember many movies in recent times where I have been moved so much. The final car drive, the dreamlike rhythm and colours. The intimacy that doesn’t need words. The conclusion… Masterpiece.

I understand ‘Certain Women’ might not be suitable for everyone due to its pace (could it be trimmed down some minutes? Sure, as every movie, right?) and Reichardt’s conscious refusal to offer the viewer a catharsis or that fundamental, dramatic key scene where everything falls to pieces or gets together. But aside from the aforementioned first story where overall satisfaction can be discussed, I found the film a bold, touching and disarming statement, full of little triumphs encapsulated in a murmur, a cigarette smoked into the wilderness, a desperate look into the horizon or an unhurried horse ride. What a brave filmmaker is Kelly Reichardt.

SCORE: 7/10

"Post Office", working-class Bukowski

Post Office- Charles Bukowski

A warning: don't read this if you are struggling with your job. Although it could help you to have the g_ _ _  to call it a day, to put it nicely.

"It began as a mistake", the novel begins. A mistake that went on for more than twelve years, on which Charles Bukowski, through the adventures of his alter-ego Henry Chinaski, shows how he became a slave to the wage, like the 99% of us (we all also know who the vile and corrupted remaining 1% are, but that should go on another post), at the U.S. Postal Service.

Sure, If you have read Bukowski previously, you'll find little to be surprised here. There's booze, horses, women and the grim, raw and let's face it, quite funny prose that is so quintessential of this writer. But besides the (always highly recommendable) Hank-by-numbers, "Post Office" offers something else, something more. A deformed, close to the grotesque if you want, but also a very clear mirror in which the majority of us can reflect his/her image.

Because this novel is truly a treaty, written in Bukowski's unique "knockout style", of how jobs ruins and finally ends killing something inside of us. Chinaski is defeated by routine, by boredom, by plain stupidity, by soul-killing workplaces and mind-numbing strategies created just for the sake of having a higher rate on efficiency while decreasing his level of self-stem. Does it sound familiar to you? I bet it does.

At the same time, though, some people need a daily work not to throw himself/herself from a window, or starts a life of self-destruction. It's a contradiction wonderfully portrayed on "Post Office", being an unsuspected deep analysis of the most mundane, zero glamour, life miseries. It's a poignant "I hate my job" tale, but also a "I need to do something with my life" story, one on which Chinaski constantly seeks company (this book is not really about sex, but about not being alone, there's an intriguing sadness on his perspective on relations here) as much as he needs booze. And despite Chinaski is the perfect example of the anti-hero, in "Post Office" he wins. He says "that's enough", looking towards starting a new chapter on his life.

Like John and Dan Fante (add Carver, Wolff and to some extent Richard Yates), Bukowski is able to say a lot of things to readers without what it seems that much (on the surface). He is just worried of telling the truth (of course, his truth). There's no point in mannerisms, affectations or sentimentalism, because he didn't write to impress you. He wrote about what he cared and what he knew best than anyone else, his life. And he was just interested in telling it like it was. All I can say is thank you Hank.

SCORE: 7,25/10

"Everything Here Is the Best Thing Ever", blurred snapshots of youth

Everything Here Is the Best Thing Ever: Stories- Justin Taylor

I will never lean. How many writers have been celebrated on the back covers of their debut books as the new Carver? And why I keep reading them, hoping to discover a new literary hero? That's unfair for the writer, and after reading the book, on a 99% of the cases, unfair for the reader.

Because "Everything Here Is the Best Thing Ever" by Justin Taylor is not a bad collection of stories. On the contrary. Taylor's voice is quite unique: sharp, bittersweet and distant, yet skilled and polished (poetic glimpses included). Modern minimalism? New dirty realism? Labels here harm a quite cohesive and remarkable young writer. Taylor shouldn't be compared with giants, but highlighted as a quite refreshing author of his very own.

"Everything Here..." is purposely blurred. Don't expect answers of definitive endings. The fifteen stories included are just snapshots of the lives of confused young people, that would qualify as isolated losers, in which age, religion and identity are recurrent topics. Underground and counterculture might be the ground Taylor is showing us, but forget any heroics in their actions. On the contrary, a silent desolation will predominantly arise. I find the contrast between straight and frank narration and the inner turmoil of the characters quite exciting. There's sweetness but also rawness on their stories, something I believe proves Taylor's ability (and promise) to capture feelings and emotions and put the on paper. My concern has to do with the final results, with the impact of each story, for me too uneven.

That's the problem with Taylor's stories. Some, like the brief “The Jealousy of Angels”, "Tetris", or "Weekends Away" passed completely unnoticed for me. The ones with the anarchist (or just bored?) David were flat, with the lack of passion that is the "trending topic" of actual literature (that modern, frequently annoying tick) doing little favour to their very fragile characters. “Jewels Flashing in the Night of Time” might be worst of the lot, plain awful.

On the other hand, there's a bunch of stories to be remembered, like the solid "Tennessee", in which Jewishness is the background of a fierce father-and-son tale. Or in "What Was Once All Yours”, takes the subject of abortion from a male perspective, giving the emotionally charged topic a new approach. “New Life” does wonders with the redemption of a hopelessly in love kid. Or like “Whistle Through Your Teeth and Spit”, where the end of a peculiar coffee house is a phenomenal excuse to portray the bunch of regular (and outcasts) clients.

At times extremely interesting, despite the uneven impact / quality of this collection of stories, "Everything Here Is the Best Thing Ever" is a quite promising first approach to Justin Taylor's work, and also an intriguing attempt to show the miseries, as well as the hopes, of young characters striving to find their space within mankind.

SCORE: 5,75/10

"Knockemstiff", the great American white trash book

Knockemstiff- Donald Ray Pollock 

Welcome to Knockemstiff, Ohio. Welcome to a rural nowhere, a black hole that absorbs everyone that survives (I don't dare  to say live) there and, for sure, a place from no-one escapes. Welcome to a human monster's parade, that will puzzle, terrify you as much as it grabs you. There's no redemption or mercy here. There might have been dreams, but misery and desolation easily corrupts them.

Donald Ray Pollock short stories have an structure that resembles the legendary "Winesburg, Ohio" by Sherwood Anderson, where stories and characters are, at times remotely, at times directly related, and where characters can be the centre of the tale, and then become a secondary actor in the next story. So when you reach the end of the book, you have the feeling of having read a novel of a place (and a time) on its own. It's a book about Knockemstiff, a place which may be the closest thing to hell on Earth. Seems the town, the hollow as it is referred on the book, really exists, being the are where the writer was born. But the amazing thing here is that Pollock manages to transcend the autobiography. Knockemstiff could be anywhere, and the reader will think there are many Knockemstiff out there. The Sex Pistols got famous by singing "No future no future for you no future for me" on "God Save the Queen". But in "Knockemstiff" the situation is much depressing. There's no future, because there's zero hope for the present.

The inhabitants of "Knockemstiff" are pure white trash fated for a life of alcohol, drugs, miserable sex, miserable works and the weight of their families, their bad choices and mistakes, their addictions, their inabilities to drive their lives and, of course, the place that surrounds them. They might be damned by the hollow where they live. But for sure, they are doomed. Pollock needs only just one sentence to resume it all.  "My father showed me how to harm people one night of August when I was seven years old". If we were talking about boxing, that would be an absolute knock-out.

Sensitive stomachs could be distressed by the cast of horrible and violent situations and human beings that swarm "Knockemstiff". I would ask you to persevere and going further than the (disgusting, brutal) surface, because this short stories deserve it. Pollock manages to avoid sentimentalisms or affectations, as well as repetitions. I have read in a review that the book is luckily amoral and I completely agree, being one , in my opinion, of the factors that makes his fiction so absorbing. There are no lessons here, just the cruel and raw "reality". Straight and without contemplations. And thanks to that, there are also credible feelings of desolation, frustration and shame in the condemned characters. As Raymond Carver would say, "No heroics, please". Even if the truth hurts. Even if it hurts so much that can turn you into a monster. I guess you realize by now what's going to be my conclusion: read "Knockemstiff". Just a final note. Read the great prologue from Kiko Amat after finishing the book.

SCORE: 8,25/10

"Richard Yates", Tao Lin's insult to literature

Richard Yates- Tao Lin

I'm very sorry for the title of my post. But that's how I feel after reading this book. And the mere fact he is using the name and surname of Richard Yates, in my opinion, one of the best writers this world has ever read, as the title of his novel, to me is offensive. I don't believe he did it ironically. Worse, I don't care if he did. The result is exactly the same. This book is awful.

I didn't know about Tao Lin's over-hype. I guess that not being American it was something completely alien to us. I didn't have any previous opinion about him either, but after reading the novel I made a little search and sadly, it has not helped at all. Read this little fragment of an interview made on a Spanish diary. Again, I don't care if he's being ironic or what. That's the answer of a total jerk (depression is quite a serious thing for many people).

"Are you as depressed and unhappy as is assumed in your books? I don't know. Maybe. But other people depressed is unable to do anything. I have published six books. And I take antidepressants just for fun".

Kafka for the iPhone generation? That's a very offensive insult to the Czech genious. The writer for the facebook generation? Excuse but I know lots and lots of people that use facebook regularly (me included) and are not stupid. 

Sorry if I'm taking my time to write about the author and not about the novel. I am. But that's because there's not much to talk about the book. This novel is a trifle. Maybe it wasn't Lin's goal, just a marketing strategy, but contrary to what the say, "Richard Yates" doesn't reflect the reality of the world we are living, with modern kids who live their life through a social network or a chat. Lin's book just shows reflect the lack of talent of someone who constructs simple verb phrases after simple verb phrases (X says, Y says) and the most tedious voice I ever read in literature. 

Dakota and Haley are impossible characters. Not only their ages and educational levels have no relation with how they talk/chat/sms each other, that would be more associable to 10-12 year old kids, but they are plain clichés too. Just two words that resume my point: depressed and suicide, used ad infinitum. If  the book was just a short story of no more than 20 pages it could pass as a joke, or if, at least, the kids fulfilled their promise and commit suicide...

Empty, profoundly superficial and topical, without a direction (plot? still wondering), I promise that finishing only a bit more than 200 pages has been to me like reading Tolstoy's "War and Peace" twice. Some critics say his prose is the most accurate expression of the minimalist approach. That's another offensive comparison. If authors like Raymond Carver, Tobias Wolff where called minimalists was because they wanted to eliminate everything superficial, accessory, irrelevant from their works. But Lin's case is the opposite. What can you do when you have nothing else than superficiality and irrelevance on your book?

Tao Lin has said this is sort of an autobiography, that he wrote for himself. That concludes any debate about its (lacking) quality. In my opinion, it would have been excellent if he had decided to keep it for himself. But opens another one: why was this published? I think that has to do with these tendency of looking for and selling trends. You find that author, you create a categorization for him/her (post-post-modernism? how cool sounds that, right?) and hire/influence some critics that will say this is "the next big thing". Oh, and you can always say people that doesn't get is because they are not prepared for anything new or challenging, or that they didn't get the irony of it. Yes, the irony. Look how I'm laughing.

SCORE: 0,75/10

"Thirteen Uncollected Stories", the early John Cheever

Thirteen Uncollected Stories- John Cheever

Initially, this book was an unexpected reason to celebrate. More stories from John Cheever! A young Cheever! In my idea of heaven, Cheever and Scott Fitzgerald are very close friends and have regular long walks while they wait for the rest of the boys, a.k.a as Kerouac, Carver, and the newcomers Salinger (who doesn't talk much) and Hunter S.Thompson (there's always an eccentric one on a group, right?). Then they gather on a table, always reserved by Dorothy Parker, who is joined by Carson McCullers and Flannery O'Connor, for drinks and endless debates. So I guess you have an idea of how excited I was when I realized about when I knew about this publication. In principle.

"Thirteen Uncollected Stories", or "Fall River" (Spanish title) is a collection of stories originally published in the 1930s and 1940s, in different magazines, and compiled for the first time. The collection was intended to be much larger than just thirteen stories, but the opposition of the Cheever family ended on a long litigation. The result is this partial selection of young (barely out of his teens) Cheever's fiction. A revelation of the beginnings of a masterful writer.

The inexperienced Cheever wasn't the "Chekhov of the suburbs" yet, and some of the first stories or the book are focused on lives during the Depression in small, dying towns where social analysis is present, while others, located in Saratoga, are focused on character studies of women in an style that seems to connect with Fitzgerald. But unfortunately, and being 100% objective about the book itself, the "real Cheever" only appears a few times.

For the majority of the collection you have mainly sketches of characters that crumble or are stuck by something. A dialogue or a deep introspection moment shows there's a voice emerging, wanting to be heard.  But "our" Cheever is only present in "The Autobiography of a Drummer", with its painful ending monologue; "In Passing", probably the best tale of the selection, with real strength and bitterness; and "The Opportunity" that despite its ending combines some sort of twisted humour with two excellently crafter characters. Not saying that's all you'll find here ("The Teaser" and "Bayonne" are also remarkable) but we are talking about the man responsible of "The Enormous Radio", "Goodbye, My Brother", "The Swimmer", "The Rural Husband"... There's no bigger enemy for this young Cheever than the old John Cheever.  

"Thirteen Uncollected Stories" is a precious material for fans, just for the sake of its existence. But as a book, only at times is an absorbing reading, being more a mixed bag if we go through the stories one by one. Want to discover Cheever? Couldn't encourage you more to do so. But start by "The Stories of John Cheever" or his novels, and after an exciting trip, you will probably like to end by knowing the young Cheever.

SCORE: 5/10