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Greaney, Philip John (2006). Less is More: American Short Story Minimalism in , Raymond Carver and Frederick Barthelme. PhD thesis The Open University.

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Less is More

American Short Story Minimalism in Ernest Hemingway, Raymond Carver and Frederick Barthelme

Submitted for the degree of

Doctor of Philosophyfor the OpenUniversity

in the discipline of , September 2005

by

Philip John Greaney, B. A., M. A.

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THE OPEN UNIVERSITY

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This work suggestsways in which 'less' become 'more' in the minimalist approach of three American short story writers, Ernest Hemingway, Raymond Carver and

Frederick Barthelme. By 'less', I mean minimalism's tendency to create a pared down, seemingly 'innocent' style; to use absence for effect; and to omit vital narrative details. By more, I mean the range and depth of emotional effects minimalism achieves, and the ways in which it demands the reader engage with the text.

Minimalism achievesits effects because,not in spite of, its tendencytowards reduction,its relianceon absence.The paring down processcreates interpretative indeterminacy,by omitting apparentlyvital information. Hemingwaymay be thought of as the originator of the minimalist short story; Carver and Barthelmedevelop new ways to implicatethe readerin the creationof the text, for exampleby suggestingthat the readeris a voyeur, and through the useof the secondperson narrator. Together, minimalist writing might be reconsideredin light of the ways in which it demands readerengagement.

My readeris an implied one and my choice of writers suggestsways in which the literary history, in minimalist aestheticdeveloped; how it might be valued within and the history of the American short story in particular. I considerHemingway in terms discussion of the origins of the minimalist approachin the short story, henceI offer a both of how his work developedwithin the context of literary history, as a reactionto

modernismand tradition. I concludeby suggestingthat the statusof minimalist writing in literary history might be reconsidered in light of a renewed understanding of how this seeminglyimpoverished, restrained and slight writing createsworks of great richness,emotional intensity, and intellectual depth. CONTENTS

Introduction How'Less' Becomes More in Minimalist Writing

Chapter One The Origins and Developmentof Hemingway's Minimalist 36 Aesthetic: from Apprenticeshipto In Our Time

Chapter Two Minimalism and Literary History 127 Bridging the Gap from Hemingway to Carver

Chapter Three RaymondCarver's Will YouPlease Be Quiet, Please? 191 Seeingand Being Seen

Chapter Four If You Can do Anything, Then You Can do Nothing' 263 Frederick Barthelme's" Contemporary Minimalism

Conclusion The Past, Present and Future of Literary Minimalism 344

Bibliography 370 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

My first thanksare to my supervisors:Dr Richard Brown, who hasbeen there all the way; and ProfessorDennis Walder and Dr David Johnson.I thank, too, the Literature Departmentat The Open University, and the library, which havebeen extremely helpful in finding eventhe most seeminglyobscure texts.

Thanksare also due to ProfessorCynthia W. Hallett, who helpeda great deal, most particularly in providing a draft of a conferencepaper at the time unpublished.

My family and friends have beena great help. Although too numerousto name,I'd like to highlight Janetand Joyce,who havebeen very supportive.Thanks to Steve Rycroft for his generouscomments at the eleventhhour; and to Owen and Emily for moral supportalong the way.

This PhD is dedicated to my mother, Edith W. Greaney, and to the memory of my father, Philip L. Greaney. INTRODUCTION

How 'Less' Becomes 'More' in Minimalist Writing

Minimalism has beensubjected to hostile criticism by major US critics, from its receptionin the late 1970s,until the presentday. JohnAldridge's Talentsand

Technicians:Literary Chic and the New Assemblý-LineFiction, for example,is a sustainedattack on what he calls pejoratively 'assembly-line' , where minimalism is variously criticised for being unoriginal, homogenisedand ultimately of little value.' His work reflects a concernthat the minimalist approachwas banal, trivial and inconsequential,privileging form over effect: '[Minimalism] suspendsall aestheticinnovation in favour of parsingout the most mundaneconcerns of superficial life'. 2 Elsewhere,Madison Smartt Bell invertedthe notion that lessmeans more when applied to Minimalism, by suggestinginstead that 'less meansless'. 3 The hostility to Minimalism culminatedin 1989,when five critics convenedon

Minimalism, and underthe heading'Throwing Dirt on the Grave of Minimalism', declaredthat it was 'deadi. 4

1J. W. Aldridge Talentsand Technicians:Literary Chic and the New Assembly-LineFiction (New York: CharlesScribner's and Sons, 1992) 2 J. Klinkowitz, 'The New Fiction! in M. Cunliffe (ed) ThePenguin History oftiterature: American Literature since 1900 (New York: Penguin,1993), p. 364. 3 M. SmartBell 'Less is Less:The Dwindling American Short Story' Harper's 272 April 1986:pp. 64- 69.

4 S. Koch, et al. 'Throwing Dirt on the Grave of Minimalism.' Columbia:A Magazineof and Prose14 (1989): pp. 42-61. 2

One result of this sustainedcriticism is that, despiteits prevalencein American short fiction over the last thirty years,critical appraisalsof minimalism are disproportionatelyfew, and when they do appear,they are largely antagonistic.

Consequently,it appears- with the odd exception,as notedbelow- that minimalism hasnot beengiven the critical reading it deserves.Questions remain as to the origins of literary minimalism, the extent to which it might be valued,and its influenceupon future .It is the intention of this thesisto addrýsssuch questions and in so doing, addressesthis critical neglect.This will be donethrough an analysisof three

American short story writers who appearat strategicpoints along minimalism's timeline (loosely, at the beginning,middle and now): ErnestHemingway, Raymond

Carverand FrederickBarthelme.

The notion that minimalism's pared-down, elliptical and inexplicit aesthetic necessarily inculcates an equally underwhelming, impoverished and ultimately valueless effect upon its reader is in need of reconsideration. I refute the equation that

'less' does indeed mean 'less' by suggesting ways in which less becomes more in the collections of minimalist short stories of these three writers. It is my contention that

4more'means a richnessof effect, an interpretativepolyvalency, an interactivevitality which exists because,not despiteof, the 'less' which is minimalism's restraint,its tendencytowards reduction, its dependenceupon absencefor effect. My central argumentis that minimalist narrativetechniques create an interpretative indeterminacywhich asksthat the readermake a growing contribution to its meaning, culminating in an awarenessof what is revealed,rather than resolved,at the short story's ending.All literature makesdemands upon the reader,but this thesisattempts to determinehow minimalism makesspecific demandsin-line with its specific 3 narrativetechniques: reading 'less' demandsthat the readerdo more, becausethe minimalist short story refusesto provide easyanswers to the many questionsit raises.

A renewedunderstanding of the potential effect upon an implied readerof this literaturemight go someway towardsdeveloping a renewedcritical re-evaluation, and in so doing, extenda concomitantsympathy towards it.

It hasbecome the task of the supporterof minimalism to defend,rather than praise,its literature.It is not my intention to sustainthis defensiveposition. Rather,I ask that readersre-negotiate their readingstrategy to encompassthis way of writing and all its techniques,principles and effects; and in doing so re-think the placeof the minimalist short story within American literary history. 4

Minimalism and Existing Criticism When Raymond Carver told an interviewer of Paris Review that he disliked the term

'minimalist' applied to his work, this represented deep misgivings about the value of minimalist writing:

In a review of my last book, somebodycalled me a 'minimalist' writer.

The reviewer meantit as a compliment.But I didn't like it. There's

somethingabout 'minimalist' that smacksof smallnessof vision 5 and executionthat I don't like.

The 'smallnessof vision and execution' are more than problemswith the term itself, but point to a distrust of its methods,aims and effects. FrederickBarthelme also appearsuncomfortable with the term. In his apologeticarticle, 'On Being Wrong:

ConvictedMinimalist Spills Beans', he seemshappy to defendminimalism in all but name,and elsewhereseems resistant to the term:

I don't like being called a minimalist, which I am called I think

becausemy characters don't get up on boxes and shout out their

views of the world. This is not becausethey don't have views on

the but [ ] they [ ] world ... recognise ... we produce a great many,

but they're not very reliable. So the characters shut up. This pleases 6 me.

5 K. Herzinger 'Introduction: On the New Fiction' AfississippiReview1985 Vol. 40, Winter, p. 8. 6 Herzinger,p. 9. Thesemisgivings have beentranslated into an indifference,a hostility towardsor even a rejection of minimalism amongsome readers and critics. Tlie result is that the minimalist short story of the United Stateshas beeneither undervaluedor even ignoredby critics.

Consequently,there are very few full-length studiesthat focus upon minimalism, and only one at the time of writing that focusessolely upon the American short story. This work, Minimalism and the Short Story: RaymondCaner, Amy Hempeland Mary

Robisonby Cynthia W. Hallett, arguesthat minimalism developsand extendsthe tendencyin short fiction towards reduction,omission and suggestion.For Hallett, minimalism is merely an expansionof traits already found in the short story tradition: there is little to suggesthow minimalism contributessomething new and how it underminesor even rejectssome of thosetenets which are the foundationof the modernshort story.

Despite its illumination of the work of its three writers and its promotion of minimalism more generally, Hallet's argument is limited. Moreover, alone, it cannot hope to addressits complexity and so American short story minimalism remains largely misunderstood, unexplored or unjustly evaluated. As a result, fundamental questionsabout minimalism remain unanswered.

Aldridge's Talents and Technicians is the most sustainedattack upon what he terms the 'new fiction', within which he includes minimalism. His work contains the most fierce, unbending and provocative critique of minimalism to be found 6 anywhere,but its themes, criticisms and readings are not unique: they represent the influential viewpoint that the American minimalist short story is not valuable.

For example, one of his most vicious condemnationsis reservedfor what he calls

'assembly line' fiction writers. Here, he criticises the burgeoning writing programmes,graduate writing classesand generally writing-through-pedagogy as producing uninspired, unoriginal and homogenisedshort stories. fie attacks minimalism for eschewing social concerns, for its apathy, and for the way in which its impoverished method inevitably inculcates an impoverished effect upon the reader.

Several critics have recognisedthe degreeto which minimalism has been the subject of negative criticism of the kind typically found in Aldridge, or its apparentneglect as a result of such hostility, and have attemptedto restore some balance.One such critic, Kim Herzinger, the then editor of The Mississippi

Review, wrote to several writers, critics and scholars with an interest in literary minimalism, with a view to devoting an edition of hisjournalism entirely to a discussion of literary minimalism. Published in winter 1985, its aim was to inspire a discussionwhich might shed some light of what was then a relatively unexaminedand undervalued 'new' fiction:

There are many questionsabout this work, first amongwhich is, are

[ ] Individually links thesewriters groupable? ... or collectively, what thesewriters with, or separatesthem from, the irony, the foregrounded

language,and reflexivenessof the "postmodernists"of the sixties and

early seventies?Are we witnessinga realist revival, or is this 7

64minimalist" fiction something previously unseen?And what makes the

work "minimalist" in the first place?7

Herzingerestablishes a broadly agreeddefinition of minimalism. Wherecritics tend to disagree,however, is in their appraisalof what Herzingercalls the implications,or effects,of minimalist narrativetechniques. He suggeststhat criticism shouldbe developingbeyond its definition and insteadmove towardsan analysisof effects: to what end is the minimalist aesthetic?fie asks:

the implicalions of these characteristics, discussions of why,

where from, and to what end, is "minimalist" fiction. 8

In the introduction to the 'minimalist' edition, Herzinger variously offers some tentative suggestions as to how these, and several other, questions might be answered.

Yet what becomes clear in reading this collection of short essays and thought-pieces, along with the seminal introduction, is that minimalism as a literary phenomenon demands further detailed study. These pieces (sometimes only a page in length) somewhat deliberately act as a taster to a more concerted, thoroughgoing and in-depth study of minimalism, the need for which is plainly implied in his conclusion. Any attempt to discuss what Herzinger calls the 'implications' of minimalism demands a smaller, but more penetrating, area of focus. A precise, focused analysis will inevitably shed light upon more general areas, and suggest answers to many of the questions raised by Herzinger et a], including a discussion of minimalism's

7 Herzinger,pp. 7-8. 8 Herzinger,p. 11. relationship with post-modemism, its affinity to realism, and why it might be revalued. I am responding to Herzinger's call. 9

Defining Literary Minimalism

Herzinger's interestin effect is predicatedupon an agreeddefinition of literary minimalism, and, as Hcrzinger makesclear, there is a stablecritical consensusin how minimalism in the American short story is defined.9 In the introductionto the

4minimalist'edition, he outlinesa brief but decisivedefinition of literary minimalism in which he makesthat consensusclear:

Still, most critics, hereand elsewhere,can generallyagree as to the

"minimalist" fiction [ ] "equanimity salientcharacteristics of ... of surface,'ordinary' subjects,recalcitrant narrators and deadpan

narratives,slightness of story, and characterswho don't think out loud."10

I havetranslated these 'salient characteristics'into severalmore preciseelements as they appearin minimalist writing: a reducedvocabulary; a shortersentence; a reticencetowards the expressionof a character'sthoughts or feelings;unresolved, even slight narrativeswhich reveal more than they resolve;the useof unadorned languageand the rejectionof hyperbole;a detached,even 'absent' narrator;a more abundantuse of dialogue;fewer adjectivesand, when used,not extravagant;showing, not telling as a primary meansof communicatinginformation; an interestin the accuratedepiction of the everyday;and a focus upon the presenttense. It is the purposeof my thesisto expandthis definition in terms of the effects minimalist writing makesupon its implied reader.

9 Indeed,minimalism outsideof the short story and the United Statesadopts a similar position but not without exceptions.For example,Russian minimalism has been largely influencedby its origins in traditional folk tales. 10Herzinger, p. H. 10

It is commonto define minimalism in relation to its genre,as doesChris Baldick, in its appearancein a variety of poetic sub-genres,such as the flaiku, epigram,short sketchor monologue.' 1 Here, minimalism is defined as a function of its scale.Yet,

Hemingway's long Fiesta: , is an example of minimalist writing, but minimalist in a way that differs from that found in the short story. The poeticsof short-storyminimalism are fundamentallydifferent from thosein the novel and my focus is the modernand contemporaryAmerican short story. I look at someof the ways in which short story structureand short story cyclesare affectedby the minimalist enterprise,and how the conventionalshort story structure,culminating in an explanatorydenouement provides the opportunity for minimaliststo thwart expectationsby eschewingresolution.

Whilst it is vital that these defining elements are variously present in the work of each writer in order that they are classified as 'minimalist', they are merely the foundation from which to develop a discussion of their effects. This series of defining criteria connects disparate works, and is an important part of the underpinning of my work; it might be rephrased in Herzinger's words as how far these writers are 'groupable', if at all. This is especially important in the case of Ernest Hemingway, who does not appear as part of the Minimalist phenomenon per se, but whose writing shares a definite similarity with their work.

The Cultural Usesofthe Term 'mininialism' The term 'minimalism' in its wider cultural usemakes it own uniquedemands upon the critic attemptingto define it. It hasexperienced a controversialpast, from its

11C. Baldick TheConcise Dictionary oftiterary Terms(Oxford: Oxford University Press,2004) beginnings as a cultural-political term, to its contemporary, more diffuse usage as representative of anything 'sparse' or 'uncomplicated'. The history of minimalism as a cultural term helps inform its definition as a literary term.

'Minimalism' and 'minimalist' were first usedin the modem world in politics at the beginningthe 20'hcentury. It specifically referredto a memberof the more moderate section of the Russian Social Revolutionary Party which opposed the extremist tactics of the Maximalists during the 1905Revolution. The Timesrecords one of its first uses,on 18 October 1906:'The Bolsheviki, now a minority, are almost 12 indistinguishable from the Minimalists of the Social Revolutionary party'. Such use is now rare, althoughit did retain somecurrency in the early to middle 20th century as a political term.

Its first applicationto an artistic discipline was madeover twenty yearslater, andjust four yearsafter Hemingwayhad publishedthe secondedition of In Our Time in 1925

(although the term was not applied to this edition at the time). The earliest use of the ten-nwas madeby D. Burliuk in 1929when he wrote of the paintingsof the Russian-

American painterJohn Graham(1881-1961) in M. Allentuck's John Graham's

Systemand Dialectics in Art (1971).

Despite its infrequentuse in the art world in subsequentyears, it re-emergedduring the 1960swhen its usebecame increasingly widespread. In a 1967edition of the Neiv

12, minimalism, n." (2) The Oxford English Dictionary 2"d ed. 1989.OED Online. Oxford University Press.25 July 2005. 12

Yorker, Harold Rosenberg noted that: 'The novelty of the new minimalism lies not in its reductionist techniques but in its principled determination to purge painting and sculpture of any but formal experiences'. 13Minimalism in the plastic arts caused a shockwave of opinion and remains controversial.

A 2004 exhibition by Donald Judd at Tate Modem reflectedsome the key defining criteria of artistic minimalism, namely,an emphasisplaced upon purity of colour, forni, spaceand materials.14 fie is famousfor his 'stacks', a seriesof works of columnsof colourcd Plexiglasblocks. 15 His ambition herewas to analysethe interior of spacesand the ways in which light playeda part in the developmentof this, and other, artworks. They havebeen defined as minimalist althoughhe was resistantto the term.

Its useexpanded in the arts beyondpainting to apply variously to sculpturein particular, and also to other artistic disciplines, including music, interior designand literature.At the beginningof the 1980sit was appliedto the musical works of several composers,including SteveReich and Philip Glass.Such music is characterisedby being composedof an often very simple chordal patternsreiterated during an extendedperiod and with a deliberatereduction of complexity of rhythm, melody and harmony.The term is variously usedin architectureand linguistics and its usehas

13H. Rosenberg'Defining Art' New Yorker25 Feb, 1967,p. 106. 14 The Donald Judd exhibition at Tate Modem ran from 5 February- 25 April 2004. Details of the exhibition can be found at: http://www. tate.org. uk/modem/exhibition&/judd/ '5 One particular exampleof the 'stack's is Untitled, 1990and is on permanentexhibition at Tate Modem. 13 become more generalised, to refer to anything which bears evidence of simplicity, starkness or brevity.

One of the first applications of the term minimalism to literature was to the work of

Samuel Beckett. The critic Robert Walser said of his work: 'The spectral

'minimalism' of , whose writings surely expose the very core of the 16 modem predicament'. Beckett falls outside of my focus upon the American short story, but works suchas 'The Expelled' and his sometimesminimalist approachto theatrecould usefully be comparedto my work in order to help widen the scopeto encompassminimalism in the Westerntradition. This is indicative of how I hope my work might inform the work of other critics interestedin literary minimalism, and in the final stagesof the conclusion,I suggestways in which someof the areas necessarilyomitted might form the basisof future work.

It did not take long before critics beganreferring to the work of RaymondCarver as minimalist, the earliestwriter within the Minimalist phenomenon.In the first edition of Fires: Essays,Poems, Stories (1985), Carver notesthat the term minimalist has beenapplied to him. Sincethen, it hasbeen used to describea method,a principle or_ style of literary writing, as well as thosewriters who exhibit suchcharacteristics, beginningwith the publication of Carver's Will YouPlease be Quiet, Please?in 1976 until the present,including Barthelme.The term 'minimalismý is problematicfor severalreasons when applied to writing. The first is that it thereappears to be several other terms for which it is synonymous.In the United Kingdom, following the issue 14

17 of Granta of the same name, it is variously known by the term 'Dirty Realism'.

Indeed,as implies in his article 'A Few Words About Minimalism' that there are as many definitions of minimalism as there are critics:

[Minimalist writers] are both praisedand damnedunder such labels

as 'K-Mart Realism', 'hick chic', 'Diet-Pepsi Minimalism' and 'post-

Vietnam, post-literary,postmodernist blue-collar neo-early- Hemingwayism."s

One might add, following Herzinger's introduction to a symposiumon the 'New

Literature' in Mississippi Review, the following terms have been used synonymously for minimalism: Pop Realism, New Realism, TV Fiction, Neo-Domestic Neo-Realism

19 and even Post-Post-Modernisrn. There are many more but the point remains the same: minimalism as a literary term is problematic becauseof the multiplicity of methods, aims and literatures which it may describe.

Minimalism hasno manifesto,nor havethe 'members' organisedthemselves consciouslyinto a group.The work of Donald Judd,Mies Van Der Roheand Philip

Glass(in the plastic arts,architecture and music, respectively)has beendescribed as

6minimalist',yet there exists no deliberatelyorganised defining principle or ambition

16R. Walser (tr. C. Middleton) The Walk Ertraordinmy Classics(London: The Serpent'sTail, 1992), P. 10. 17B. Buford Grama 8.,Dirty Realism(London: Granta, 1983)

18J. Barth 'A Few Words About Minimalism' The New York TimesNew York 1986,December 28, p-1 19Hcrzinger, p. 11. 15 which connects each discipline or minimalist writer. It appears that 'minimalism' is a cross-cultural ten-n which stretches to encompass sometimes very different enterprises and this can obfuscate the definition of the term. Although ostensibly linked, for example, by a tendency towards paring down of means, a reductive method and an aspiration towards complexity through simplicity, there is confusion between how minimalism is characterised in each discipline. For example, music and literary minimalism make great use of repetition. Yet, music's nuanced, subtle changes amongst prolonged repeated phrases is quite different in effect from, say,

Hemingway's quasi-poetic emphasis through repetition, as I will show.

This is not to say that a comparisonbetween minimalism in different fields yields little of interest:a cross-culturalstudy of minimalism would be an extremelyvaluable and fruitful enterprise.It is anotherlamentable result of the neglectminimalism has facedfrom critics - and writers themselves,who neitherassembled as a group with a manifesto,nor welcomedthe term when applied to their work - that the term hasnot yet obtainedwidespread cultural currency.

Here,a distinction shouldbe madebetween minimal ism as an approach,a 'style' of writing that is not pinnedto a single period; and Minimalism as a historical literary phenomenonthat beganin the mid-1970suntil the present.I call Minimalism a phenomenon(noting its initial capital letter to show it as a proper noun) becauseit doesnot imply the collective agreementof principles and aims a term suchas

4movement'might. Its counterpart,minimalism (without an initial capital letter) is more generallyapplied to writing that is not fixed to a phenomenonor trend. This 16 makes my contention that Hemingway is a minimalist in that his work adheres to the defining criteria of minimalism, lesscontentious. I do not shoe-hornhim into the

Minimalist group, but merely suggestthat his work sharesfundamental and un- coincidentalprinciples, methods and defining criteria with them. Minimalism and minimalism are crucial tenns becausethey, respectively,surnmarise the difference betweenthe phenomenonas it appearsat specific time in literary history and as an approachto writing which transcendsa particular era.

Richard Ford, anotherwriter and critic of minimalism to whom the appellation

'minimalist' hasbeen applied, focuses upon its use in , which he

'[ ]a foreign [ ] It's best for rejectsas ... critical term to the work ... at a convenience a 20 reviewertoo lazy to deal with the good work on its own terrns'. 1f the term minimalism is so problematicin application,why use it? I-Jerzingertentatively claims it is: 'what we have' but I think it is more than that.21 it is certainly with its problems, but there is an agreement- at least in principle - abouthow minimalism is defined, and so it is a useful term to employ, even if it is descriptive worth is only partially accurate.

ChoosingMinimalist Writers: Ernest Hemingway,Raymond Carver and Frederick Barlhelme My focus is upon a single collection of short storiesfrom eachof threewriters: Ernest

Hemingway(1899-1961), Raymond Carver (1938-1988)and FrederickBarthelme

(I 943-present).I considerthe following work of thesewriters: Hemingway'sIn Our

20flazinger, pp. 8-9. 21Herzingcr, p. 8. 17

Time (1925);22 Carver's Will YouPlease be Quiet, Please?(1976); and Barthelme's

Moon Deluxe (1983). 1 havechosen each writer becausethey representa pivotal momentwithin the history of American short story minimalism. Hemingwayappears at its origins, whilst Carverappears at its zenith during the 1970sand 80s,a time when Barthelmewas publishing his version of minimalism, a versionthat persists until today and so representssome of the most current trendsin minimalism. I have chosenthe early work of eachwriter becauseI am interestedin a more restrained, extremeand even 'purer' form of minimalism, which is found in their emergentwork.

Minimalism doesnot remain stablethroughout a writer's output, and the tendencyfor eachwriter to becomemore expansiveas their careerprogresses means that their early work is more representativelyminimalist. As a result I havechosen the earliest short story collectionsfrom eachwriter.

Carver, too, published several short stories and poems before the publication of Will

YouPlease be Quiet, Please?But this was his first full-length collection of short

fiction. Barthelme published two collections, Rangoon and War and War. But as he makes clear in his introduction to the selected stories, The L(nv ofAverages, these were subsequently dismissed as largely irrelevant to his mature artistic project: they certainly do not representthe minimalist narrativetechnique of Moon Deluxe or the

later Chroma,and are more aligned to post-modernismthan minimalism. In each

22In eachcase these collections are the first to be publishedby eachwriter. In the caseof Hemingway's In Our Time,there was a previous 1924edition entitled in our time but it merely containedthe vignettesnow found in the subsequent1925 edition, which were largely unchangedand numbered chapters1- 15. Thesevignettes are vital to our understandingof Hemingwayand to the In Our Timeof 1925but they do not in themselvesrepresent a collection of short stories. 18 case,I provide a more detaileddiscussion of the publishing contextsof the work underconsideration in their relative chapters.

This thesis attempts to illuminate literary minimalism by an analysis of the work of three writers carefully selected as representative of historical moments in the development of minimalism. I attempt to provide an outline of the origins and

23 development of minimalism in the 20'h century. Hemingway, therefore, dominates its origins and I contend that his work is minimalist, a narrative technique that later

Minimalist writers will at least partially adopt. Carver might be said to represent its re-emergence into American letters, a significant 'high-point' in minimalism's development. Finally, Barthelme in some ways represents the logical development of many of minimalism's more salient characteristics, whilst simultaneously providing a glimpse of where minimalism might be going in the future.

23My work goessome way in suggestingthe contribution madeby Hemingway's 'apprenticeship'to the origins and developmentof literary minimalism. However, this work cannothope to be an exhaustivesurvey of this area,given its focus elsewherebut it would certainly prove a valuableand enlighteningenterprise for further study. 19

The Structure of the Thesis The thesis is divided betweencomparisons of the three writers underconsideration, who appearchronologically: Hemingway,Carver and Barthelme.My methodis to contrastand comparethe work of eachwriter. In order to makesuch comparisons as tangible and explicit as possible, I have introduced three areas of interest which are applied to eachwriter. Theseareas of focus and their concomitantsections are: the role of the narrator,the usesof figurative language,the function of omission;and the relationshipto literary realism.Each sectionfocuses upon the relevantmanifestation of the narrator/figurativelanguage/omission/real ism in eachwriter. So, in the caseof my analysisof the narrator,for example,I focus upon the 'absent' narratorin

Hemingway,the 'narrator-as-voyeur'in Carverand the useof the second-person narratorin Barthelme.I provide a contextualintroduction for eachwriter at the beginningof sustaineddiscussion, in order to give an idea of the literary or historical conceptsthey were reactingto, and by doing so, intend that this helps to developan understandingof minimalism's placewithin American letters.

The first chapter is devoted to Hemingway and is divided into two parts. In the first part, it outlines the ways in which his apprenticeship influenced Hemingway's minimalist approach. Because I see Hemingway at the origin of minimalism in the

American modern short story, this also goes a long way in outlining the origins and developmentof minimalist writing. In the secondpart of this chapter,I examinethe applicationof this approachto his collection In Our Time.

Chaptertwo is devotedto a study of In Our Time in relation to literary history, as a product of modernismand tradition, and through an examinationof its realist 20 credentials. It is hoped that, at least for Hemingway's pivotal work, it will demonstrate how minimalism developed, suggesting several reasons for why it might have developed the methods, interests and principles it has. I addressthe period between In Our Time and Carver's Will You Please be Quiet, Please? by suggesting some ways it might have become less useful as an idiom for capturing modem reality, and introduce Carver as a writer who resurrected the minimalist form.

Chapterthree then takes Carver as its focus,and details the ways in which he developsthe role of the readerwithin his work. His most salientcontributions of the renegotiationof relationshipbetween reader and text asa fundamentallyvoyeuristic one; his useof the everydayobject as a corollary for the emotionallife of his characters;and finally, his use of an incompleteepiphany, which suggestschange without realisingit.

The fourth chapterdeals with Barthelme'sMoon Deluxe,a work which, onceagain, developsthe ideaof the readeras centred within the text. Barthelmeachieves this through the useof the second-personnarrator, where the readeris a 'you* in the story;through the expansionof suggestivelanguage to includebranded objects; and through the wilful sense with which he is contentto offer little or no motivesfor the behaviourof his characters,as a meansof exploringthe 'nothing' which is both the bestand worst aspectof contemporarysociety. One of the most importantelements in the developmentof minimalismis its relationshipto post-modemwriting. This chapter,therefore, addresses this areaby comparingthe work of Barthelmeto that of his older brother,Donald

Barthelme,a centralfigure in the post-modemistliterary group. In the conclusion,I look at a text which providesa usefulcounterpoint in termsof time andplace. All Hail theNew 21

Purilans,a collectionof shortstories by variouswriters, represents one direction that minimalismmight takeand as a publicationfrom the United Kingdom,offers some considerationto minimalismas a wider literary phenomenon.

A themerunning through the thesisis the relationshipbetween minimalism and realism. Does it represent a re-emergence of a faith in realist discourse, and if so, is sucha discoursein any way transformedby the minimalist idiom? Conversely,does minimalism representa form of realism so far removedfrom its origins that it might be fairly called a new-realism?

My discussionof minimalism's relationshipwith realism is informed by George

Levine's conceptuali sat ion of the realist ambition as one basedupon struggle:

[] the struggle inherent in any 'realist' effort - [is the] struggle

to avoid the inevitable conventionality of language in pursuit of the

unattainable unmcdiated reality. Realism, as a literary method, can in

theseterms be defined as a self-consciouseffort, usually in the name

of some moral enterprise of truth telling and extending the limits of

humansympathy, to make literature'appearto be describingdirectly

not someother languagebut reality itself 24

24G. Levine 'The Realist Imagination: English Fiction from Frankensteinto Lady Chatterley' in D. Walder (ed.) The RealistNovel (Milton Keynes:Open University Press,1995), p. 240. 22

In Hemingway's fiction, the realist ambition is intimately tied to what Levine calls the

4moral enterprise of truth telling'. For Hemingway, the truth was the 'sensation' or

emotion created by the primary experience upon the writer. By attempting to accurately

recreatethose sensationsin the reader, he would provide an authentic account of the

'reality' of that situation, even if the facts of the primary experience were changed.

Moreover, he thought that the traditional models of storytelling and the language they used were no longer suitable for the expression of the modem experience, and especially war, which he experienced first-hand. Rather, he introduced a 'new style' based upon subtlety, restraint and omission, in order to capture and transmit those emotions, with the necessaryunderstatement to make them appear less sentimentalised, or merely sensational.This new style was minimalism, yet it introduced a high degree of complexity, in its manner of writing and for the reader. As such, it representsthe notion made explicit by T. S. Eliot that literature should become more difficult in order to more accurately represent the complexity of the modem world:

We can only say that it appears likely that poets in our civilization, as

it exists at present, must be difficult. Our civilization comprehends

great variety and complexity, and this variety and complexity, playing

upon a refined sensibility, must produce various and complex results.

The poet must become more and more comprehensive, more allusive,

more indirect, in order to force, to dislocate if necessary, language into

his meaning.25

25 F. Kermode (ed.) SelectedProse of T S. Eliot (London: Faber, 1975),p. 65. 23

Eliot wrote this in 1921, just four yearsbefore the publicationof Hemingway's secondedition of In Our Time,and is indicative of the kind of ideasthat were influencing Hemingwayduring its writing. Here, the 'complexity of the modem world' is representedthroughout the thesisby my analysisof the dynamic between realism and minimalism, found in Hemingway's ambition to fictionalise historical eventsin order to createthe 'truth', as I demonstratein my comparativereadings of his non-fiction and fictional treatmentsof the samepassage. Later, I considerthe re- emergenceof minimalism, throughthe work of Carver and Barthelme,in the context of post-modemwriting. I contendminimalism was a reactionto the exuberant playfulness,the radical experimentalismand defiant anti-realismof post-modemshort fiction. In contrastto Hemingway'scomplexity, the work of Carverand Barthelme appearsto desirea senseof simplicity, even purity, in American literature,evident in a desirefor 'quietening' the short story of that time.26

Minimalism more precisely develops a mode of discourse based upon an intense focus upon the everyday, even banal, aspects of reality: a shoe, a typewriter, a toy. It remains highly aware of the new relationships forged between objects and people in an increasingly consumer-led society, culminating in the influence of branding and commoditisationin Barthelme'swork.

Becauseminimalism asksthe readerto createmeaning, it might be concludedthat what is made- or interpreted,in the caseof literature - more accuratelyreflects the

" As suchthe title of Carver'scollection under analysis, MY YouPlease Be Quiet,Please? acts as an admonishmentto his contemporaries,and continues Hemingway's ambition to developan aesthetic whichmore accurately captures reality. 24 subjectivereality of thosewho make it. The notion that what the reader'makes' in his or her interpretationis necessarilymore realistic, as is it tailored to his or her unique experience,beliefs and understandings.

Minimalists reducethe amountof significant realistic detail but makegreat useof what they do include.The comparisonwith other realistsis telling, for it revealsthe extent to which small details in minimalism accumulateto suggestmore than the sum of their parts.I comparethe work of Hemingway in particular to the work of such writers as Emile Zola or GustaveFlaubert. Their aspirationwas to write a fiction so detailed,so minutely focussed,that it attemptsto createan exactduplication of the real world. Their realist discourse,then, might be considereda 'maximalist realism'.

Conversely,minimalist writers reducethe amountof detail in their expressionof reality, so that certain,significant descriptiveelements do not merely becomepart of the totality of accuraterepresentation, but becomerepresentative, and aspireto a form of figurative languageloosely basedupon the symbolic. This comparisonmight be consideredhistorically, as a contrastbetween 19'h century realismand 20th century minimalist realism which has, in turn, beenaffected by .

All minimalist writers here struggleto developa modeof discoursethat more accuratelycaptures their everydayreality than that which has comebefore. As such,

Barthelme'sand Carver's work is no less interestedthan Hemingway's in portraying what it meansto live 'in our time% 25

Reader Response Theory

This work does not establish a new 'theory' of literary minimalism. Rather, it adopts and transforms an existing theory of reader response, applying it to a series of particular works in order to show something as yet undiscovered. In this way, my work might be considered a new approach to understanding minimalist writing. I use the work of Wolfgang Iser as the reader response component of my approach. His work is especially useful because it makes the implied reader the basis for an interrogation of interpretation; secondly, he has done much work on the role of indeterminacy as the foundation for the interpretative act.

TheImplied Reader

My readeris conceptualised,or ideal, and not basedupon an empirical study of how a control group of readersreact to specific texts. Nor doesit allude to what might be referredto as 'receptiontheory', in which the reactionsof critics becomethe basisfor an analysis.Rather, I usethe term 'implied reader"following Wolfgang Iser's definition of the term in suchbooks as ThelnipliedReader (1974) and TheAct of

Reading. A Theory ofAesthelic Response (1978). In Iser's model, such a reader is active as well as passive,a statusinfon-ning the relationshipbetween text and reader.

Sucha relationshipis ambivalent.On the one hand,the text shapesthe reader's interpretationbut on the other it is shapedby the reader.A corollary lies in Umberto

Eco's definition of the 'open' and 'closed' texts (and more distantly, betweenRoland

27 Barthesdistinction betweenthe 'writerly' and 'readerly' text). Minimalist short

27See: U. Eco TheRole ofihe Reader.,Fxplorations in the Semiolicsof Texts(Indiana: Indiana University Press,1984): and R. Barthes(trans. R. Miller) ThePleasure ofihe Text(New York: Hill and Wang, 1980). 26 storiesare 'open' texts becausethey are basedupon omission,which includesthe excision of narrativeacts of resolution.As such,the implied readerwhich an open text createsis necessarilyan active one. My work is interestedin the ways in which the minimalist aestheticaffects the reader'sinterpretation, and in doing so, I take an imaginativeleap into the role of the implied reader,suggesting ways in which the story might potentially be interpreted.I recognisethat the potential for interpretation is not the sameas actualisedinterpretation, and that the implied reader- one perfectly capableof discerningeven the most subtletextual nuance- is a theoreticalmodel. To this end, my readingsremain illustrative and ultimately subjective,but are aimed towardsthe possibility that they are in someways representativeof how a reader might respondto the text beforethem.

Iser's definition of the implied reader requires some attention:

If, then, we are to try and understandthe effects causedand the

responseselicited by literary works, we must allow for the reader's

presencewithout in any way predeten-nininghis characteror his

historical situation.We may call him, for want of a betterterm, the

implied reader.He embodiesall thosepredispositions laid down, not

by an empirical outsidereality, but by the text itself. Consequently,

the implied readeras a concepthas his roots firmly plantedin the

structureof the text; he is a constructand in no way to be identified

with any real reader.28

2' W. Iser TheAct ofReading.A 7heoiy ofAesthelicResponse (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins, 1979), p. 242. 27

Initially, it seemsthat the implied reader/textrelationship creates an ideal systemthat is not duplicatedin any actual act of reading.

This certainly is a problem for Iser's theory, but it is only a problem insofar as any act of interpretation.Speculation must be madeand without a definitive surveyof reception,no generalisationsof textual 'effect' could be made.The implied readeris createdby the text and so is thereforeable to understandall the stylistic devicesthat the author usesand the text contains.But if this were the casethen there would be no interpretative'gaps': the perfect convergencebetween implied readerand text would leaveno room for suchslippages.

Or would it? In the caseof minimalism, the gapsleft are deliberateattempts at revealingmore than they resolve.So, a literaturethat seeksto createinterpretative equivocation(such as minimalism) would be understoodas suchby the implied reader.An implied readercan only understandthat there is somethingmissing from the text that it must provide: it cannot fill the gap with an interpretationif the text doesnot in someway suggestthe possibility of a gap. The implied readeris a theoreticalconcept, devoid of autonomy,which slavishly follows the text. The implied readingis more successful,then, in the caseof Hemingway,as he directs the readertowards narrative 'clues, in order that they might fill the gaps.However, in the caseof Carver and - more explicitly, Barthelme- there is no clue within the text as to how the implied readermight fulfil its meaning.Literature, for Carverand Barthelme, doesnot require an explanatoryfunction; it is part of life's quality that there are 28 certain mysteries that should remain unsolved, or at least with no easy answers other than those the reader invests in their interpretation.

Iser and ReaderResponse Wolfgang Iser is primarily interestedin the creationof meaningas a result of the relationshipbetween reader, writer and text, the basisof which lies in what he calls the 'phenomenological'theory: 29

The phenomenologicaltheory of art lays full stresson the ideathat,

in consideringa literary work, one must take into accountnot only

the actualtext but also, and in equal measure,the actionsinvolved in

respondingto that text.30

More specifically, his work demonstrates a particular interest in the effect of creating 31 indeterminacy in the fictional text. This he sees as inherent in all fiction but, through the use of specific strategies which he discusses, is more applicable to some texts than

others. In his seminal essay 'Indeterminacy and the Reader's Response in

Fiction' Iser '[ I it be indeterminacy is the fundamental states: ... can said that 32 precondition for reader participation'. If this is the case, then an increase in

interpretative indeterminacy will see a consequent rise in reader participation. Iser

29 For an excellent introduction to the works of Iser and his place within receptiontheory, seeR. Holub, ReceptionTheory., A Critical Introduction (London: Methuen, 1984),pp. 82-107and passim 30Iser, W. TheImplied Reader:Patterns ofCommunication in ProseFictionftom Bunyanto Beckett (Baltimore: JohnsHopkins, 1974),274. 3' This subjectoccupies his essay'Indeterminacy and the Reader'sResponse in ProseFiction' in W. Iser Prospecting:From ReaderResponse to Literary Anthropology (Baltimore: JohnsHopkins UP, 1989). 32Iser (1989), p. 10. 29

distinction between:'[ ]a lays before in makesthe ... text that things out the reader he [ ] 933 that sucha way that can either acceptor reject them ... and a text that one remainsindeterminate. Minimalism, with its fundamentalprinciples of restraint, omissionand reduction,doesjust that. In this model, it would necessarilydemand someresponse from the readerthat would needto overcomethe indeterminacyin order to makesense of the narrative.

How doesminimalism remain indeterminate?To answerthis question,I focus upon one of the centralways in which interpretativeindeterminacy is createdthrough what

Iser calls Leerstellen,or 'gaps' or 'blanks'. These'gaps' needto be filled by the readerduring his or her act of interpretationin order to makesense of the text:

[Gaps] give the reader a chance to build his own bridges,

relating the different aspect of the object which have thus far been

revealed to him. [The reader] fills in the remaining gaps. fie removes

them by a free of meaning-projection and thus himself provides 34 the unformulated connections between the particular views.

Iser is a useful theoreticianfor my work becauseI contendthat the textual 'gaps' he considersare preciselyrelated to the deliberateomissions made by minimalist writers.

Moreover, incompleteand unresolvednarratives are not peculiar to minimalist fiction.

My interestlies where they are the product of minimalist fiction, a literaturewhich

331 ser (1989), p. 10. 34Iser (1989), p. 9. 30 hasat its core an emphasisupon reduction, including the reductionof the narrative function to explain.

Defining Absence: Narralive Kernels and Omission ,a writer to whom the term 'Minimalist' hasbeen applied (although, like Carver,she is uneasyto accept),reflects the ways in which absenceinforms the narrativetechnique of minimalism:

A lot of times what'snot reportedin your work is more important

than what actually appearson the page.Frequently the emotional

focus of the story is someunderlying eventthat may not be described

or evenreferred to in the story.35

For the critic, this practice poses a potentially difficult question: how does one decide that a narrative event as missing, especially if it is not referred to in the narrative?

This is a more difficult phenomenon to explain, because it invites a certain level of speculation on behalf of the critic. I propose the following condition. An absent narrative event is one whose omission is felt by the reader, so that when a story is read, the reader understands something might well be missing. These are significant narrative events are absent from the narrative. Following the outline of narrative and story employed by Seymour Chatman, these significant narrative events might be

35 J. Sapp"Interview with Amy Hempel." Missouri Review 16 (1993): 82-83 in Hallett, p. 6. 31

36 expressedas 'kernels'. For Chatman,there existsa differencebetween the 'story'

(the overall seriesof events,described in no particular manner)and the 'narrative', which is the expressionof the story in a specific way. A narrative'kernel' is an irreducibleelement of the narrativeand is an essentialpart of the story. Consequently, its removal from the narrativewould transformthe story into somethingquite different (the oppositeof which he calls a 'satellite', which provide description, colouring, etc. but without which the narrativewould be different but the story might still be the same).In my approach,narrative kernels are absent,omitted deliberately as a result of the tendencyto paredown, with the effect that the readermust fill the interpretativegap left by their absence.

Thesekernels might, for example,be as varied as missing backgroundinformation, actualconversations or action, or a generalabsence of the expressionof explanatory thoughtsand feelings, including charactermotive. Whateverform the kernel takes,its absenceundermines the ability of the narrativeto explain itself, to renderitself open to a resolvedinterpretation. The effect for the implied readeris that removing pivotal narrativeevents introduces interpretative ambiguity into the story. The readeris presentedwith a narrativewhich is incompleteand thereforeunresolved. This notion is not confined to literary interpretation:communication per se is dependentupon a satisfactorylevel of completeness.When the readeris confrontedwith a narrativethat I could be resolved with the inclusion of such pivotal events, their removal creates an ambiguity which the reader must overcome in order to make (more) senseof the story.

Yet, the receptor might not know exactly what is miýsing, only that something is

36For a full discussionof the terms 'kernels' and associated'satellites' see:S. ChatmanStory and Discourse:Narrative Structuresin Fiction and Film (Ithaca: Cornell University Press,1980) 32 absent,something that would makecomplete or partial senseto the narrative.This is my approach.

Equivocation

One immediate objection to this is that for Iser, all texts are in some ways indeterminate.However, this is not insurmountable.Although all texts are, to some degree,indeterminate, some texts lend themselvesto indeterminacymore readily than others,and somemethods are equally more cffective. The deliberatetendency to undermineinterpretative stability and so createindeterminacy is what is meantby

'equivocation'. Equivocationdoes not representthe stateof all texts as being ultimately subjectto interpretation- this might be termedindeterminacy. Because minimalism is different from other literatures,it hasdifferent affects upon its readers: it is the particular effects of a specific literaturethat I am interestedin.

A drawback with Iser's work is that both open and closed texts contain 'gaps' which are necessarily present in fiction, as literature can be neither definitive nor entirely complete. There is no way to distinguish between the deliberate attempt by the writer of the text to create ambiguity (such is the case with minimalist writers) and by a text which doesnot deliberatelyattempt to be ambiguous.The theory of gaps,therefore, doesnot point to an 'open' or 'closed' text, but merely suggestsall texts are the same in that they leave interpretativegaps to be filled. As a result, I usethe term

6equivocation'to refer to 'ambiguity' or 'interpretative indeterminacy',and in doing so suggestthat it is a deliberatestrategy by the writer who understandstheir omission hasthe potentialto affect the reader.This avoids including referenceto coincidental omissions,which are inevitable given that literature will be necessarilyincomplete. 33

Rather,I am interestedin thoseelements which appearto havebeen wilfully omitted and if included,would resolvesome or all of the text's ambiguities.

So far, I haveused the ten-nstextual 'ambiguity' or 'indeterminacy' synonymously.

Ambiguity is introduceddeliberately as a product of the carefully considered omissionwhereas indeterminacy is a term often associatedspecifically with deconstructionistcriticism, which is not pursuedhere. So, in order to avoid confusion

I havedecided to avoid it altogether.'Equivocation' is more fitting as it suggeststhe processof 'ambiguity through deliberatemeans', the meansbeing omission.Iser's emphasisupon indeterminacyis thereforeuseful only so far, and doesnot address thosetexts which make interpretativeinstability part of their method.As such,Iser's approachis first modified, then gradually replacedas the thesisdevelops with the notion of equivocation,which more preciselydefines the processby which minimalism comesto demandthe responseof the reader. 34

Conclusion: A New Approach

Minimalism is a literaturedependent upon omission,absence and suggestionto fulfil its aestheticpromise: to reduce,to pare down, and to condense.This is presentin many forms, as I havemade clear in my definition above,including an absent narrator, a suggestive use of figurative language, and the omission of vital narrative elements,or kernels.

The interpretativeprocess benefits from identifying, absorbingand understanding thesenarrative kernelsif it is to provide a reasonably.jcom plete meaning.Because suchkernels are missing or ambiguousin the minimalist short story, either as a result of one, or more commonly, severalelements in collaboration,a closed,decisive and resolvedinterpretation is madeextremely difficult. The theoriesof Wolfgang Iser are employedto help re-negotiatethe relationshipbetween reader, text and interpretation.

Therefore, minimalism has the effect of introducing interpretative indeterminacy. In keeping with the examples used above, I argue that the absent narrator makes it more difficult for the implied readerto find a sourceof reliable information about how the narrative might be interpreted; the suggestive figurative language only implies connectionsbetween disparate elements, employing unconventionalobjects and actionswith great significance;and the act of omissionmight, especiallyin the caseof the story ending,remove the potential for interpretativeclosure, ultimately leaving the story unresolved,and its import sometimeshighly ambiguous.A seriesof highly detailedreadings of Hemingway,Carver and Barthelmeare usedto apply the theoreticalapproach to the work of writers who hold representativepositions in minimalism's literary history. 35

Having establishedminimalism's tendencyto createinterpretative indeterminacy - or fiequivocation'as I call it, following its specific intention towardsambiguity - the readermust themselvesfill the gapsleft by the omissionof narrativekernels through their active, sustainedand imaginative interplay with the text. The result is that the

'less' of minimalism's tendencyto reducecreates 'more' in terms of the richnessof a readingexperience predicated upon a thoroughgoingengagement with minimalism's particular aesthetic.By doing this, I might hope to readdressthe imbalancein critical hostility and neglectwhich I referredto at the beginningof this introduction. 36

CHAPTER ONE

The Origins and Developmentof Hemingway's Minimalist Aesthetic:

From Apprenticeship to In Our Time

In this chapterI will suggestanswers to key questions:where doesminimalism come from; and how did it originate and developas an emergentwriting aestheticin the modemAmerican short story? To answerthese questions, I begin with an examinationof Hemingway's apprenticeship- namely,his work as a journalist, and the influencesof early experienceand of other writers - and discusshow it influenced and anticipatedmany of the significant elementsof the minimalist aesthetic.This important line of enquiry helps determinethe extentto which writers suchas

RaymondCarver and FrederickBarthelme are indebtedto Hemingway's short fiction, ' and how far Hemingway's fiction could be said to anticipatetheirs. In the second part, I analysehis emergingaesthetic as it appearsin his first major short story publication, In Our Time. Here, I discerna trend towardstextual ambiguity which I take, following Wolfgang Iser's model of indeterminacy,as an exampleof his intention to stimulatethe reader,engaging them with a sophisticatedand largely un- explanatorytext.

This idea is further exploredin Cynthia Hallett's full-length study of minimalism C. W. Hallett Afinimalismand the Short Story (New York: Edwin Mellen Press,1999) and her unpublished conferencepaper, of which I am grateful for a copy sent: seeC. W. Hallet 'A Clean Well Lighted Fiction: Hemingway's Poeticsand Literary Minimalism' (unpublished,2000). 37

I usedthe term 'influences' advisedlyhere. Although direct influencemight be discernible,especially when one considersthe style sheetat the KansasCity Star or the 'lessons' of Ezra Poundand GertrudeStein, I prefer to think of Hemingway's minimalist aestheticas an individual responseto a set of problemsraised by those influences.Perhaps 'influence' is too strong a word: it suggestsa direct contact, absorptionand transformationof thoseinfluences into his aesthetic.Certainly, this was true to an extent.But the critic's task in trying to establishthe exact context into which he camein contactwith his influencesis always speculative,as is the process by which influencesbecome influential. Rather,the developmentof his minimalist style is best discussedby suggestingthat the influencesoutlined herewere prompts, an impetusto suggesta path to Hemingwaywhich he could chooseto take. No one influence is responsiblefor the minimalist aesthetic,but a seriesof sometimes contradictingideas that were interpretedby him, and transformedinto his work as we know it. 38

Part One: Journalism, Experience and Literary Influence Journalism

Hemingway's introduction tojournalism, the short story, and their similarities began early in his life. 2 In hisjunior year at Oak Park High School in 1916, Hemingway enrolled in ajournalism and writing course which placed special emphasis upon the 3 short story. The course tutor, Miss Biggs, ran her course as though it were a newspaper office, working by the principles of solid, if unimaginative, newspaper reporting: ' "Tell your whole story in the first paragraph; develop details in relation to their importance; leave the least important things until the end" A At around the same time, Hemingway began to write short fiction. The school magazine Tabula published one of his first stories,'The Judgementof Manitou' in the February 1916issue.

Hemingwaycontinued to write for Tabula, including a story in the April edition

'A Matter Color" CharlesFenton, Hemingway"s called of .5 scholarof apprenticeship, suggeststhat it was not until later, however,whilst writing journalism for the school 6 newspaper,the Trapeze,that Hemingway's apprenticeshiptruly began. Indeed,his

2 Hemingway'sapprenticeship has been variously discussedelsewhere but not in relation to literary minimalism. I am indebtedto CharlesFenton's 1965account of Hemingway's apprenticeshipin this chapter.See C. Fenton TheApprenticeship ofErnest Hemingway(London: Vision Press/Peter Owen, 1995).Paul Smith also usefully divides Hemingway's early style in his essay'Hemingway's ApprenticeFiction: 1919-192V reprintedin J. Benson(ed. ) New Critical Approachesto the Short StoriesofErnest Ilemingnray(London: Duke UP, 1990),pp. ] 37-149.Also extremelyuseful on the samesubject are J. Kobler ErnestIlemingiray. Journalist andArlist (Ann Arbor: UNII ResearchPress, 1968)and R.Stephens l1enzingiray's Non-Fiction: ThePuhlic T`oice(North Carolina: UNC Press, 1968),who offer a comparisonof hisjournalism and fiction. A selectionof Hemingway's non-fiction can be found reprintedin W. White Ilemingiray: Bý-Line (London: Grafton, 1989). 3 All the Trapezeand Tabula piecescan be found reprinted in anotherindispensable volume when consideringHemingway's development,M. Bruccoli (ed.) ErnestIlemingiray's Apprenticeship:Oak Park; 1916-1917(Washington: NCR Microcard Editions, 1971) 4 Quotedin P. Griffin Along with Emit: Ilemingway, the Early )ears (Oxford: Oxford University Press,1985), p. 25. 5James Fenton reprints Hemingway'sjuvenilia and pre-Parisstories in a sectiondevoted to them in Fenton,J. (ed.) Ernest Hemingway: The CollectedStories (London: Everyman,1995).

6 C. Fenton, p. 20. 39 early fiction, perhaps unsurprisingly, bore little or no relation to that which he was to write later a decadelater. Hemingwaychose journalism as his careerand upon leaving schooljoined the KansasCily Star as a cub reporter.

The KansasCity Starand the Toronto Star In 1917,the Star was oneof half-dozengreat American newspapers. American journalism was emergingfrom a periodof turgid, heavyprose and the Star was one of thosekeen to carvea new style.7 In commonwith other newspapers,the style sheetwas an essentialcomponent of their practice.Unlike someothers, it readslike a manifesto:

'Use short sentences.Use short first paragraphs.Use vigorousEnglish. Be positive,not 8'Mese negative'. are the first of over one hundred rules that went beyond the conventionalstringency regarding punctuation and grammar nonnally found in a style sheet.Hemingway responded positively and quickly to theserules, and soonbecame a 9 competent cub reporter. Later he was to adapt them for use in his early fiction:

They hangedSam Cardinella at six o'clock in the morning in the

corridor of the countyjail. The corridor was high and narrow with

tiers of cells on either side. All the cells were occupied.The men

had beenbrought in for the hanging.Five men sentencedto be

hangedwere in the five top cells. Three of the men to be hangedwere

negroes.They were very frightened.(15 1

7 it is worth noting the regional natureof US newspapersat that time and the widespreadintellectual suspicionwhich resultedfrom them being consideredparochial or regionalist.See J. Carey The Intelleauals and Me Masses(London: Faberand Faber, 1999). 8 C. Fenton,p. 3 1. 9 All pagereferences in the text refer to Hcmingway's short storiesand can be found in J. Fenton(ed. ) ErnestHemingway: The Collected Stories(London: Everyman,1995). 40

The story readslike a typical Star newspaperreport: it tells the whole story in the first paragraph;the sentencesare short and are positively and vigorously expressed;and it aspiresto an objectivity of expression,a seemingly detached approachthat neverthelesshas great power to move the reader.Rule 21 of the style sheetproved to be particularly noteworthy. It askedthat the reporter to: 'Avoid the use of adjectives, especially extravagantones'. 10 By avoiding extravagant adjectives in this example ('high' and 'narrow' of the cell are relatively neutrally descriptive and 'very frightened' is typically and effectively understated),

Hemingway displayed neither an intrusive authorial judgement nor hyperbole, ideas which were to re-emergein his conversationswith and Ezra

Pound, and which would eventually find a way into his fiction. Unlike the newspaperarticles destined for a sensationalist-hungry audiencewhich possessed an equally melodramatic style, Hemingway expungedhis work of clichd and exaggeratedemotion, and instead attemptedto use understatementto create effect.

The Star encouraged its reporters to develop a factually accurate and concornitantly objective style, alongside a narrative which placed emphasis upon its intimacy and human impact. The idea was to write something more penetrating and lasting, perhaps by suggesting ways in which it was representative of a more general idea or emotion.

An isolated incident might become a more general piece about loss, as we find in this example:

10C. Fenton,p. 33. 41

A well dressedyoung woman enteredthejewelry division of the

welfare loan agencyyesterday. She presented a wom pawn ticket.

It was for a wedding ring pawnednine monthsbefore.

"I never intendedto come back for that", shesaid. "I

didn't wear it and it always seemedto mejust an expression

of sentimentand I believedI was an unsentimentalwoman. But

my husbandwas draftedand I thought I'd like to havethe ring

to rememberhim by in casehe nevercomes home. " 11

Here, his techniqueis basedupon the inclusion of direct speechin order to makethe momentmore intimate and immediate,which anticipateshis greatuse of dialogueas central strategyto 'show' ratherthan 'tell' in his fiction. Reportssuch as this foreshadowhis useof the as a fictional fon-n,which were directly derived from his journalism at the Star. Suchexamples also serveto directly illustrate his interestin the blurring of real eventsand fiction.

Not all aspects of his influence became part of his minimalist aesthetic. Hemingway's apprenticeship saw him adopt the ironic 'turn', a discrete 'closed' ending, at the end of his stories, a method he was later to reject. In this example, Hemingway writes of a warrant which charges local businessman Joseph C. Wirthman with supplying liquor during the prohibition:

11C. Fenton,p. 49. 42

Herne [the accuser]complained to ShannonC. Douglas,assistant

prosecutor,that severalmen, whom he recognisedas SecondWard

Politicians, followed him to the Criminal Court Building today and

threatenedhim. Wirthman is a former alderman.12

This ironic endingwould be ultimately unsuitablefor his ambitionto leavehis stories opento interpretation.But evenhere, the simple declarativestatement 'Wirthman is a former alderman'ostensibly provides a statementof merefact, with the aim of removingauthorial comment or evaluation.This assumedinnocence was highly charged,and by withholding infon-nationuntil the closeof the story, Hemingway createsan ironic effect without compromisinghis 'objective' report.This kind of denouementis all but missing from In Our Time.It wastoo closeto the O'Henry techniqueof the 'twist' ending,a methodout of keepingwith his ambitionto reveal,not 3 resolve,and not subjecthis fiction to an explanativecommentary or summary-'

Equally significant was the development of a style on the Slar that combined the short sentence, stripped of any hyperbole, with few or no adjectives and which was precise, terse and straightforward. Hemingway was later to say of his experience at the Star:

12C. Fenton,pp. 4445. 13 The 'twist' ending appearsonly once in a similar form, in a story that beganits life as a vignette in in our time (1924, a collection of vignetteswhich were eventuallyreprinted almost unchangedin the 1925 edition of In Our Time),and becomes'A Very Short Story' in In Our Time.The unnamed protagonisthas been rejected by a 'Dear John' letter from his lover Luz, in preferencefor a major: A short time after he contractedgonorrhea from a salesgirl in a loop

departmentstore while riding in a taxicab through Lincoln Park. (84) 43

Thosewere the bestrules I ever learnedfrom the businessof

[ ] I've forgotten No writing ... never them. man with any talent, who feels and writes truly about the thing be is trying to say,

can fail to write well if he abidesby them. 14

A writer who 'feels and writes truly about the thing he is trying to say' was a lesson learnedon the Star, and this provided the basisfor the developmentof an aesthetic predicatedupon an aspirationtowards an objective, unadornedwriting style. Suchan

'innocent' aspirationtowards objectivity was a foundationof Hemingway's minimalist aesthetic,part of a strategyto move the reader,rather than supply an unernotive,unbiased 'report'.

Hemingway left the Kansas Star, and joined the Toronio Slar newspapers collective in January 1920 and wrote for the Toronto Star Weekly and the Toronto Daily Star for the next four years, selling stories on a freelance basis.15 According to the accounts of

Charles Fenton and Kobler, it was quite different from the Kansas Star, in that the

Toronto Star lacked its demanding standards, placed more emphasis on entertainment of the readers than being precisely informative, and allowed the writer a freedom of expressionunimaginable on the KansasStar. The Toronto Star was also more noticeablymarket-driven, following the whims of the reader.At the Toronto Star,

Hemingwaywas able to breakthe rules he had learnedon the Kansasnewspaper. He would write lengthy and detailedexpository 'essays'that offered tutorials in how to

14Quoted in C. Fenton,p. 34. " Many of Hemingway's Toronlo despatchesare reprinted in White's collection ofjournalism. 44 fish or camp with little regardfor their newsworthiness.In suchexamples, he developed his capacity to capture a senseof place succinctly:

A high pine coveredbluff that rises steepup out of the shadows.

A short sandslope down to the river and a quick elbow turn with

a little flood wood jammed in the bend and then a pool.

A pool wherethe moselleand colored water sweepsinto a dark

swirl and expansethat is blue-brown with depth and fifty-feet across.16

In almost every short story of In Our Time a description,often of the natural world, occupies the opening passages,often as an emotional or thematic context. At the

TorontoStar he developedthe processby which he would observeand then recreate that observationin passagesof extremeaccuracy, aspiring to an almost photographic verisimilitude. Indeed,the photographicmetaphor is illuminating. At the Toronto

Star, Hemingway's country was seeminglyartless, merely a transcriptof that which he found beforehim, and as suchhis descriptionsof landscapeswere like photographs,attempting to accuratelyrecreate his vision in writing without imaginative mediation. However, his descriptive approach in In Our Time, was more like painting, the result of a carefully contrived and elaboratemethod designed to supporthis specific ambitionswithin the story. This simple model representsthe difference betweenhis fiction andjournalism. This leadsus to a discussionof the relationshipbetween his fiction andjournalism, best exploredthrough a comparison

16 C. Fenton,p. 78. 45 of three treatments of the same event, to which I give the collective title of 'The

17 Evacuation of Thrace'. Two were published asjournalism and one as fiction. The first is from a cabled report to the Toronto Star, the second from a much longer report to the same newspaper sent by mail and finally, the third is from In Our Time. They are presented here in order of publication. The first is an extract from a cable sent to the Toronto offices:

In a never-ending,staggering march the Christian populationof

EasternThrace is jamming the roadstowards Macedonia. The

main column crossingthe Maritza River at Adrianople is twenty

miles long. Twenty miles of carts drawn by cows, bullocks and

muddy-flankedwater buffalo, with exhausted,staggering men,

wornenand children, blanketsover their heads,walking blindly

along in the rain besidetheir worldly goods.

This main streamis being swelled from all the back country.

They don't know they They left their farms, where are going.ZP villages

and ripe, brown fields and joined the main stream of refugees when

they heard the Turk was coming. Now they can only keep their

places in the ghastly procession while mud-splashed Greek cavalry

herd them along like cow-punchers driving steers.

It is a silent procession. Nobody even grunts. It is all they can

do to keep moving. Their brilliant peasant costumes are soaked and

17In most cases,the usesof historical eventsas sourcesfor fiction are especiallysustained in the interchaptersof In Our TimeThese first appeared,albeit it in a slightly different form, in the 1924 edition of in our time. This small volume collectedthe vignettes,or interchapters,which were numberedfrom I to 18. One such interchapter,'Chapter 11'of the later In Our Time,is an exampleof how Hemingway usedthe samematerial as a basisto write different accountsin fiction andjournalism. 46

draggled.Chickens dangle by their feet from the carts.Calves nuzzle

at the draughtcattle wherevera jam halts the stream.An old man

marchesbent under a young pig, a scytheand gun, with a chicken

tied to his scythe.A husbandspreads a blanket over a woman in

labor in one of the cartsto keepoff the driving rain. Sheis the only

personmaking a sound.Her little daughterlooks at her in horror and

beginsto cry. And the processionkeeps moving. 18

The secondexample is an extract from a longer despatchthan the cable,again to the

Toronto office, that Hemingwaysent by mail:

I walked five miles with the refugees'procession along the road,

dodging camelsthat swayedand gruntedalong, past flat-wheeled

ox cartspiled high with bedding,mirrors, furniture, pigs tied flat,

mothershuddled under blanketswith their babies,old men and

women leaningon the back of the buffalo carts andjust keeping

their feet moving, their eyeson the road and their headssunken;

ammunitionmules, loadedwith stacksof rifles tied togetherlike

wheat sheaves,and an occasionalFord car with Greek staff officers,

red-eyedand grubby from lack of sleep,and always the slow, rain-

soaked,shambling, trudging Thracianpeasantry plodding along in

the rain, leavingtheir homesbehind. 19

18J. Kobler ErnestHemingway Journalist andArlisl (Ann Arbor: UMI ResearchPress, 1968), pp. 10-1I 19Kobicr, p. 10. 47

Finally, this is 'Chapter 11'from In Our Time:

Minarets stuck up in the rain out of Adrianople acrossthe mud flats.

The cartswere jammed for thirty miles along the Karagatch

road. Water buffalo and cattle were hauling carts throughthe mud.

No end and no beginning.Just carts loadedwith everythingthey

owned.The old men andwomen, soakedthrough, walked along

keepingthe cattle moving. The Martitza was running yellow almost

up to the bridge. Cartswere jammed solid on the bridge with camels

bobbing along through them. Greek cavalry herdedalong the

procession.Women and kids were in the carts crouchedwith

mattresses,mirrors, sewing machines,bundles. There was a woman

having a kid with a young girl holding a blanket over her and crying.

Scaredsick looking at it. It rained all through the evacuation.(45)

The key dissimilarity betweenthejoumalistic and fictional approachlies in the relationshipbetween the expressionsof reality. Thejournalistic piecesintend to communicateaccurate information: this primary aim is to representthe eventswith fidelity. This is evident in that the first two despatchescontain more factual references than the fictional counterpartand there is morieinformation that placesthe text historically. This tells us that removing the precisehistorical context was an important step in creatinga fictional account.Hemingway, like other modernists,recognises that art could transcendreality, to create- in Hemingway's own words - something'truer than anything true', somethingwhich would addresshis frustrationswith reportageas 48

20 limited in scope or longevity. By stripping the fictional account of much of the historical context, Hemingway sought to expand upon the import of the story to suggest something more than the specific difficulties of the local evacuation, and finally towards an understanding of the plight of the dislocated, modem man, bom to the 'lost generation.

The reader'sexpectations are dependentupon how he or shedefines the purposeand function of the passage,and in 'Chapter 11',Hemingway subtly shifts attentionaway from their function as reportage,towards the promotion of a more reflective account.

In 'Chapter 11'the lack of historical context drawsattention to the figurative function of the extract.Key to this notion is that the narratoris largely absent:he seemsto be there,tentatively, in 'Scaredsick looking at it', but it is not solely a personal impression,given the omissionof the personalpronoun T. By contrast,in the journalistic example,the narratorintroduces his own explicit evaluationof the event.

The removal of the narrativeevaluation is matchedby the introductionof a sparser style in the fictional account;for example,there are fewer adjectivesand the sentencesare shorter.The fictional accountis suggestiveand reflective, rather than inforinative or didactic, and the approachreflects this shift. The developmentin the extractsshows how Hemingwaywas becomingless interestedin the actual details of factual reportageand more in the processof locating, expressingand eventually recreatingin the readerthe experienceof suchevents and the searchfor a methodthat would fulfil his ambitions.He describedthe processthus:

20The notion that an artistic 'truth' could be redemptivewas a premiseupon which modernismwas based. SeeBradbury's essayin Bradbury,M. and McFarlane,J. (eds.) Modernism:A Guide to Eiffopean Liferalw-e (London: Penguin, 1991). 49

I was always working by myself. This is how I would do [it].

For instanceI knew I always receivedmany strong sensations

when I went to the gym to train or work out with the boxers.

When I would get back from the gym, I would write

[the sensations]down. 21

The emphasisupon 'sensations',or the emotionswhich were arousedby that experience,is telling. It points to an orthodoxy of Hemingway's fiction, in which he claims that through fiction a readermay re-experiencethe sensationsas if he might havehad them him or herself:

Rememberwhat the noiseswere and what was said. Find out what

gaveyou that emotion; what the action was that gaveyou the

excitement.Then write it down making it clear so the readerwill

seeit too and havethe samefeeling that you had.22

The shift frorn an ambition to faithfully represent reality in journalism to the authentic recreationof experiencewithin the readerin fiction is a differencethat is vital in an understandingof Hemingway*smihimalist aesthetic.This differencepoints to the

fiction for primary motive - and concomitant methods - of writing literary

Hemingway:

21Quoted in C. Fenton,p. 153. 22Quoted in C. Fenton,p. 155. so

In writing for a newspaperyou told what happenedand, with

one trick or another,you communicatedthe emotion aidedby

[ ] but the elementof timeliness ... the real thing, the sequenceof motion and fact which madethe emotion and which would be as

valid in a year or in ten yearsor, with luck and if you statedit

purely enough,always. 23

Hemingway's attemptto recreateexperience in the readerbegins in actual observation of his subject.Following this careful pro6ess,he would then attemptto isolatethose

'triggers' that promptedhis emotion, and to expressthem as clearly as possibleso that they might be recreatedin the mind of the reader.This implies that a literary realism basedupon correspondenceto a 'real world' was not his sole ambition. Rather,his aim was to experienceits emotional impact, and its expressionwith fidelity, so that the readermight 'feel' it, too, and assimilateit into their emotionalworld so that it persistsfar longer than the lessimportant 'facts' of what happensand so becomes

'true' for them. Hemingwayprivileges 'feeling' over 'understanding',and the attempt to recreatethis feeling in his readeris one of the central defining momentsof the origin of the minimalist aesthetic.

In the analysisof theseextracts, his methodwas in its genesis.Hemingway is beginningto createa style that permits the apparentlyunmediated, unimpeded expressionof sensationas the basisfor the re-creationof experiencein his reader.In this readingof 'The Evacuationof Thrace', he embellishesthe distancetravelled from

23Quoted in L. Phillips (ed.) Ernest I/emingway on Wfifing (London: GranadaPublishing, 1985),p-29. 51 twenty miles in the factual,journalistic exampleto thirty miles in the fictional

'Chapter 11'.Hemingway was fictionalising the accountto accuratelyrecreate the

'truth' of their deprivation.The seemingly'innocent' style or objective reporting is

actually predicatedon the capture,expression and recreationof an intendedhighly

subjectiveresponse in the reader.Paradoxically, it is becausethe proseis unadorned

and apparentlyunernotive that this emotional responsecan be recreated;the truth is

not basedupon factual accuracy,but emotionalauthenticity.

One of the methodsfor this was the excision of strong narrativevoice, one that would

control the reader'sperspective. In this example,this notion can be found in the line:

'Scaredsick looking at it', found only in 'Chapter 11'.Unusually for Hemingway's

fiction, this appearsto be an interjection of ajudgement madedirectly by the narrator.

It at oncethrows the narrator into the event and marks it as a personalexperience.

However,the phraseis deliberatelyincomplete. There is no 'I was, no personal

pronoun,to prefix hisjudgement and this makesthe commentambivalent. On the one

hand, it is an intimate idiorn that expresseshis deepestemotions, rather than the more

distancingformal language.Conversely, omitting 'I was' hasan impersonaland

generalisingeffect: he is inviting the readerto be influencedby his comments.This is

-a direct exampleof the ambition to recreateexperience in the reader- it is as much a

statement of fact - that the scene would induce the same feeling in anyone.

Hemingway's seeminglyobjective style was in the employ of recreatingsubjective

experiencesin his readers: 52

All good booksare alike in that they are truer than if1hey

hadreally happenedandafter you are finished readingone you

will feel that it all that happenedto you and afterwardsit belongs

to you; the good and the bad,the ecstasy,the remorseand

sorrow, the peopleand the placesand how the weatherwas. 24

In her essayon Hemingway'sjournalism and fiction, ElizabethDewberry notesthat

Hemingway; '[ ] ifjournalism is 'true' it ... suggeststhat when accuratelyreproduces the 'real' fiction is true it its 25The kind world, when communicates own world' . of

'truth' that Hemingway's fiction refersto is a process:the authenticreproduction of experiencein his readers,and that truth is valuableonly in the termscreated and sustainedin his fiction. Hemingway soonbecame tired of the transitory enterpriseof reportageand discoveredthat a more fundamental'truth' - the truth of the sensation, the real, lived experiencethat resultedfrom the event- could only be createdin somethingother than newspaperwriting. Consequently,he turned increasinglyto fiction, where he would assemblein the most intricate patterna seriesof words, paragraphs,events, including thosethings which are implied but are ultimately omitted - which help recreatethe essenceof that experience,or 'truth', in the reader.

CharlesFenton claimed that Hemingwayhad an instinctive understandingof his 26 audience. Throughouthis piecesfor the Toronto Star we seethis in evidence, especiallyin his nuancedunderstanding of the relationshipbetween Canada and

24Quoted in Phillips, p. 3 (my italics). 25E. Dewberry in S. Donaldson(ed. ) The CambridgeCompanion to Ernest Hemingway(Cambridge: CambridgeUP, 1996),p. 27, passim. 26For a discussionof this, seeC. Fenton,pp. 123,124. 53

America, wherehe could easily and subtly switch allegiance.27 Yet Michael Reynolds epitomisesthe commoncritical attitude that the Toronto Star's main influencewas 28 that it providedthe time and moneythat madeHemingway's fiction possible. This is in part due to the natureof the work: Hemingwaywas a freelancewho lived in the

United Statesfor much of the time. He was not caughtup in the everydayrunning of a newspaper.Instead, he was free to travel, write and absorbliterary and cultural influencesalong the way, elementsthat proved equally influential upon his writing.

The1nfluence of Heminpvay's Life Experienceupon his Wrifing Hemingway'sbiography often plays a central role in criticism of his work, for good or bad. At best,it can provide an extremely fruitful foundationfor study of the literary output, and forms the basisfor suchworks as Carlos Baker's book-lengthstudy,

Ernest flemingivay: Writer as Artist 29; and William B. Watson'sessay "'Old Man at

Bridge": The Making Short Story'30 in he that Hemingway's the of a , which argues experiencesat the Ebro river in Italy in 1917are directly responsiblefor the origins of this story. Many critics havegone to great lengthsto establishthe biographical connectionsto his fiction, even if, as they often readily admit, their conclusionsmust 31 remain speculative. Rather,I am particularly interestedin the influenceof

Hemingway's life upon his developmentof his minimalist aesthetic.

27C. Fenton 124. 211M. Reynolds,Ilemingivay., 7he Paris )ears (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1989),p. 159. 29C. Baker Hemingway.,The Writer as Artist (Princeton:Princeton UP, 1972). 30Benson, pp. 121-137. 31Several biographies have focussedupon Hemingway's early life and its effects upon his fiction. Michael Reynold's excellentaccount is exhaustiveand relatively up-to-date:see A ReynoldsThe YoungHemingnray (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1986)and Griffin (1985). Of thosethat do not focus specifically upon his early life, CarlosBaker (1972), K. Lynn flemingiray (London: Cardinal, 1989) and P. Young ErnestIlemingivay., A Reconsideration(Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania State U. P., 1966) go someway in detailing his early influences. 54

In Our Time is permeatedwith the fictional treatmentof his own experiences, particularly thoseof the First World War. Hemingwaywas injured at the front during his commissionas an ambulancedriver in Italy in 1918.The war appearsin severalof the early interchapters,notably Chapters'I' to 'VII', and stories:'On the Quai at

Smyrna', 'Soldier's Home' and is implicit in 'Big Two-HeartedRiver'. More specifically, he is interestedin the injured soldier. In 'Chapter Vl', the woundedNick

Adams lies againstthe wall, an imagewhich resonateswith the namelesssolider of the next interchapter,'Chapter VII'; and the injured protagonistof 'A Very Short

Story' is takento the rooftopsto Paduato rest beforean operation.This characterre- appearsthroughout his fiction, from FrederickHenry in A Fareivell to Arms, to Jake

Barnesof TheSun Also Rises.Those injuries would be mentalas well as physical.

Krebs of 'Soldier's Home' finds it difficult to readjustupon his return home,as does

Nick Adams of 'Big Two-HeartedRiver'. The causeof the injury expandsbeyond the war to encompassinjuries causedby bullfighting, which occupiesseveral of the latter

interchapters.

Following from this, it suggeststhat first-hand experience forms an integral part of

Hemingway's aesthetic. When confronted with the question of what to write about, it

is significant that he chose to discover new experiences above the development of his

imagination through educational instruction. As a result, he became a volunteer in a

32 American he have Much later, war which, as an citizen, could at that time avoided .

when offering someadvice to an apprenticewriter, Hemingwaysaid; "You've got to

seeit, feel it, smell it, hear it.ý33. Initially, Hemingwayfelt he neededto experience

32For a fuller discussionof Hemingway's choice, seeFenton 1965,p. 55. 33Quoted in C. Fenton,p. 103. 55 first-handthe emotionaltruths that he would write about. But this, perhaps necessarily,gave way to a methodof exploring emotionalauthenticity without experiencingevents directly. His allegianceswitched from the truth of the scene,a representativeof his work in journal ism, towardsan emotionaltruth, the ambition of his fiction. In the following examplefrom 'Chapter T, that truth is the pity, the pathosof the terrible war:

One the [ ] Finally, of ministerswas sick with typhoid ... the officer told the soldiersit was no good trying to makehim standup. When

they fired the first volley he was sitting down in the water with his head

on his knees.(69)

E. R. Hageman claims this refers to the execution of real ministers at which 34 Hemingway was not a witness. Here, the pity at the indignity of the gravely ill minister who is heinously executed at a hospital is bitterly ironic. A careful structuring of significant observations of a scene would accumulate to transform an objective event into an emotional truth.

Hemingwaywould often expresshis capacityto captureauthentic emotions as predicatedupon an existentialauthenticity, meaning that he would haveto witness them or understandtheir naturebefore he could write about them. However, it was more a questionof developingthe right approach,rather than experiencingevents first-hand. Hemingway'saesthetic is successfulnot becausehe lived a dangerouslife,

34Benson, pp. 121-137. 56 or experiencedextreme emotions, but becausehe found an approachthat would recreateappropriate emotions in his readers.The war was extremeraw materialthat wrote large the emotionalworld that he wantedto recreate.Such an ambition is not easily attained,and his searchfor a methodwas now to be greatly influencedby his acquaintancewith someof the early 20thcentury's leadingliterary figures.

Literary Influences

Hemingwaycame into contactwith severalimportant literary figures during his apprenticeship,most notably during his stay in Paris,but it is with Chicagothat I begin this section,with his meetingwith SherwoodAnderson. 35

SherwoodAnderson Hemingway was introduced to Sherwood Anderson in Chicago just as Anderson was beginning to become well-known for his collection of short stories, Winesberg, Ohio

(1919). Anderson was of especial interest to Hemingway becausehe combined a restrained, unadorned style with a subject that Hemingway shared an affinity and background, the lives of unexceptional, rural Americans. He was also seemingly influenced by the idea of a connecting principle, a common thread that is woven throughout the fabric of seemingly disparate and discrete short stories. Anderson's thread was location: Hemingway's would be . Anderson was an early

" Much hasbeen made of the quotationfrom where Hemingwayclearly outlines his 'iceberg principle'. But the passagewhich precedesit is also revealingand although specifically directedtowards the novel, it could equally encompassthe short story. SeeE. Hemingway Death in the Afternoon (London: Vintage, 2000), p. 169:

Every novel which is truly written contributesto the total of knowledgewhich is there at the disposalof the next writer who comes, but the next writer must pay, always, a certainnominal percentagein experienceto be able to understandand assimilatewhat is available as his birth-right and what he must, in turn, take his departurefrom. 57 influenceand his impact can be clearly seen,particularly in the connectionbetween

Hemingway's '' and Anderson's 'I Want to Know Why' (publishedin

1921in Triumph of1he Egg), found hererespectively:

I was nuts aboutthe horses,too. There's somethingabout it, when

they comeout and go up the track to the post. Sort of dancyand

tight looking with thejock keepinga tight hold on them. There

wasn't ever anything like it for me. (13 1)

If you've never beencrazy aboutthoroughbreds it's becauseyou've

neverbeen around where they are much and don't know any better.

They're beautiful. There isn't anything so lovely and clean and full of 36 spunkand honestand everythingas somerace horses.

In both cases,the first-person narrative voice is that of a young man, and is expressed in their own, tangible vernacular. Thematically, too, the stories share similarities.

Whilst ostensibly about horse racing, they are initiation stories. Both express the development of a boy who confronts problems of a maturity to which he struggles to adapt, as he becomes disillusioned with a man whom he once held in the highest regard. Such are the similarities that Philip Young echoes the thoughts of several 37 critics when he claims: 'it doesnot look like coincidence'.

36C. Modlin (ed. ) SherivoodAnderson: The Egg and Other Stories (London: Penguin, 1998), p. II 37Young, p. 177. 58

Yet 'My Old Man' is significant in the context of In Our Time becauseit has a style quite at odds with the rest of the collection. Written from the first-person perspective,it is a personalaccount with an equally personalisedidiom. The sentencesare longer and more verbose and eventually prone to rhapsody,as one might expect of a conventional lament. In this sense,it is useful to rememberthe limits to which Anderson's work is influential, a notion sharedby many other critics, including Michael ReynoldS. 38 In addition, both stories dangerously approachsentimentality, a mode that Anderson could be criticised as being often drawn to but which is absent from many of the other stories of In Our Time. Their methodsdiffered, too. Anderson saw himself as instinctively creative and he claimed that ideas would come to him almost without his deliberate conception.

Hemingway was suspiciousof such an idea and knew that his own working method was quite different. Rather, Hemingway, like Raymond Carver, made a great many revisions to his manuscriptsand laboured intensely at them. For

Hemingway, and later for Carver, his creativity seemedless a product of the

Romantic inspiration and more a concentratedeffort that had at its heart the processof paring down, revising and reconsideration.

38Reynolds, p. 182. 59

GertrudeStein During Hemingway's stay in Chicago, the 'New Realism' of Theodore Dreiser, Sinclair

Lewis, Vachel Lindsay and Carl Sandburg was the dominant literary movement. Yet

Hemingway turned his attention to Europe, and he was to expand his cultural knowledge during a trip to Paris in December 1921. The emphasison Hemingway's development was to changehere and I iterary instruction replacedjournal ism as the dom inant form of influence. Hemingway continued to write for the Toronto Star as a roving reporter but as

Charles Fenton points out, it was 'bread and butter' work, merely providing the income to

himself his he beginning 39He support and wife and son and now was to stagnate. complained to Sherwood Anderson: 'All this goddarn newspaperstuff is gradually

O ruining me'! In the first instance,Anderson provided the model chosen,albeit briefly, by Hemingway. Now Gertrude Stein and were to choose hi,11.41

GertrudeStein's searchfor a methodto capturecontemporary reality madea lasting impressionupon Hemingway.This methodand its concomitantmanifestation in a style of writing can best be encapsulatedby a term sheherself used:'concentration'.

Upon readingHemingway's unfinishedmanuscript for what was to becomeThe

TorrentsofSpring, shetold him to begin it again and 'concentrate'. It was advice that is equally applicableto his short stories.To 'concentrate'can be interpretedin two ways. First, it meansto developa mental processthat allowed the active selectionof a sourcefrom the many available,and second,to observeit and expressit with f idelity.

39C. Fenton,p. 124. 40C. Fenton,p. 126. 41Hemingway provides his own accountof their influence in E. HemingwayA MoveableFeast (London: Vintage, 1996),as well as severalof figures not included here,such as F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ford Madox Ford. 60

In her own example,drawn from the 1911volume Ten(lerButtons, she wrote 'very short things [in which] I resolutelyrealized nouns and decidednot to go aroundthem

42 but to meetthem' :

Apple plum, carpetsteak, seed clam, colored wine, calm seen,

Cold cream,best shake,potato, potatoand no gold work with pet

[ 143

However,despite its focus upon the processof 'selection' of various elements,here a collection of nounsand adjectives,this lacks a cohesivestructure by which those elementsof selectioncan conveneand createmeaning. When Hemingwaysaw he could adoptthis methodbut within the tight confinesof a carefully wrought composition,using a frameworkby which thoseselections of experiencecould integrateand interrelate,the more familiar Hemingway minimalist style begin to appear. In answer to his questions about composition, Stein suggested to Hemingway that he approach each new experience as a painter might. She used the example of

Uzanne, perhaps becauseof his meticulous method of concentration and repainting, an intenseprocess augmented by his limited choice of subjectmatter. Hence,Stein suggested Hemingway might begin by choosing elements for closer observation and composethem in sucha way as to renderthe experienceseemingly unmediated by the author, and in a direct apprehensionby the reader.Hemingway himself points to the importanceof painting as an influence,and especially in the way in which his

42Quoted in Bradbury,M. and McFarlane,J. (eds.)Afodernism: A Guide to EuropeanLiterature (London: Penguin,199 1), p. 488. 43Quoted in Bradbury,p. 488. 61 descriptivecomposition operated. 44 He claimed that having visiting the Louvre and the Jeu de Paumehe:

[] was learningsomething from the painting of Cdzannethat

madewriting simple sentencesfar from enoughto makethe

storieshave the dimensionsthat I was trying to put in them.45

We can seeHemingway attempt this method in In Our Time. This is the opening

situation of ', expressedclearly and unambiguously:

There were only two Americansstopping at the hotel. They did not

know any of the people they passed on the stairs on their way to and

from their room. (107)

The couple are distancedfrom the following descriptionby their'second floor' room

which allows them to seewhat is going on without them interactingwith it:

44Cecelia Tichi, in her essay'Opportunity: ImaginationEx Machina 11'in J. Flora (ed.) Ernest Heminpvay.- A Sludy ofthe Short Fiction (Boston: Twayne, 1989),pp. 157-171extends the influence beyondthe scopeof most critical analysiswhen shewrites aboutthe relationshipbetween writing and the machine.She creates an analogybetween Hemingway's efficient, modem,tight prosestyle and engineeringdesign:

In the era of the anti-wasteEfficiency Movement Hemingway's terseeconomical lines brought engineeringvalues into the very itself. [ ] The famousHemingway sentence ... style was essentially the achievement,in and stories,of the engineers'aesthetic of functionalismand formal efficiency. (Flora, p. 157).

Tichi's argumentnever claims machineryto be the controlling influenceon Hemingway's style. But the notion that he soughta functional methodhas great weight and the metaphorof Hemingway's writing as technically 'mechanical' is in somerespects a useful one, if incomplete. 45Hemingway (1996), pp. 12-13. 62

Their room was on the secondfloor facing the sea.It also facedthe

public gardenand the war monument.There were big palmsand green

benchesin the public garden.In the good weatherthere was alwaysan

artist with his easel.Artists liked the way the palmsgrew and the

bright colors of the hotels facing the gardensand the sea. It was

raining. (107)

The focus of descriptionshifts in a mannerevocative of the movementof an eye roving from one spot to anotheron a canvas.Moreover, the fluidity of suchmovement invites the readerto createcomparisons between each element of that sentence,so that the overall impression of the passageis a product of its configuration, or structure.

That structure is expressed here through a series of opposites: the war monument is a symbolic reminder of death, the public garden as fertile and fecund; the sea is evocative of natural beauty, the artists create artefacts; the artists enjoy good weather, yet it is raining. The 'compositional' structure of this passagegives its significance through the creation of meaning through their relationships, a method of recreating ideas through the careful assembly of opposing elements. The notion that separate elements of his aesthetic - for example, the short sentence,the absence of figurative language, the use of omission - would operate most successfully in conjunction, anticipates the notion of how, at a precise textual level, less becomes more.

The processof concentrationwould equally affect Hemingway's style. SusanJ.

Wolfe's article on Hemingway's early developmentmakes such an idea plain: 63

For Stein and Hemingway did more than simplify the diction that

they used; they also limited radically the number of sub-ordinate

they included in their [ ] From Stein, elements sentences. ... who

has advised him to limit the description in his fiction, he also

learned to limit the range of his sentence structures and his

vocabulary. 46

This brief but incisive accountappears as a prototypeto a definition of the minimalist

aesthetic.In 'Cat in the Rain' as elsewhere,the sentencesare short and uncomplicated

structurally and tend towardsa single clause.Rather, in keepingwith the idea of

compositionalsophistication, their effect is in combinationrather than isolation.The

vocabularyis reducedand there is no complicatedtime structuring,with expression

being confined in most casesto the presenttense, with eventsexpressed

chronologically. Here, the idea of 'concentration' is expressedas both an

intensification of the repeated phrase and as the basis for interpretative multiplicity by

creating connections between dissimilar ideas. 'The question of repetition is very

47 important', Stein told Hemingway. Stein called this kind of repetition 'insistence' and is the most obvious, tangible example of her principle to concentrate. In a story written during his stay in Paris and one that Stein referred to as 'inaccroachable'

(translated as that which cannot be hung in a public gallery), Hemingway makes use of this 'new' idea:

46 Benson,p. I 10. 47Quoted in C. Fenton,p. 152. 64

Liz liked Jim very much. She liked it the way he walked over from

the shopand often went to the kitchen door to watch for him to

start down the road. Sheliked it abouthis mustache.She liked it

abouthow white his teethwere when he smiled. She liked it very

much that he did not look like a blacksmith.She liked it how A. J.

Smith and Mrs. Smith liked Jim. (5)

The repetitionof 'She liked' servesto reflect through languageLiz's strong feelings

for Jim. Here, it might reflect the notion that she is na*fve,her simplicity evident in her

inarticulatemantra. Moreover, it reflects the degreeof desirefor Jim which, combined with her nalivety,sees her 'liking' him in a wholly uncritical and ultimately

dangerously innocent manner. The transformation of perspective from Liz's to A. J. and Mrs. Smith's expandsand supportsher fondnessfor Jim and using 'like a blacksmith' reminds us of the other use of the word 'like' to mean 'similar to'. By contrast, her repeated 'She liked' takes on a different perspective, where she might desire to be more 'like' Jim. Stein's suggestion that Hemingway give upjournalism was not merely directed at the notion that his non-fiction 'used up all the creative juices'. 48

Stein realisedHemingway's potential not to copy reality but to recreateit; the 'less' of his concentrated,seemingly objective accountcould become'more' if it was recreated in the mind of his readeras a result of its compositionin a seriesof interrelated frameworkswhere the single elementmeant more as a result of its relationshipwith

48Quoted in C. Fenton,p. 158. 65

other elements.The processwas not straightforwardassimilated into Hemingway's method,and he wrote to Stein: 'Writing usedto be easybefore I met you'. 49

Ezra Pound When Hemingway askedEzra Poundto read his notebooks,Pound characteristically

50 offered him somevery specific, concreteadvice. Included in his counselwere ideas aboutwhat constitutesgood and bad writing, and in particular the useof adjectives.

Hemingway in A MoveableFeast Pound:'[ ] believedin writes that ... the moijuste [ ] he distrust 51 ... was the man who taught me to adjectives'. For Pound,the adjectives implied an aestheticevaluation that could be better achievedthrough the creationof

image, he in A Retrospectis: '[ ] intellectual an which asserts ... that which presentsan and emotionalcomplex in an instantof time'; and continues:'Use no superfluous word, no adjectivewhich doesnot reveal something.52 Central here is the notion of the adjectiveto 'reveal', which can be opposedto 'resolve'. Poundbelieved that clarity of expressionwas blurred by the useof adjectivesrather than enhancedby them. He soughtto replacethem with a seriesof words that createa word-picture more accurately,clearly and sensitivelyand which thereforemade the adjective redundant:

The apparitionof thesefaces in the crowd;

Petalson a wet, black bough.53

49C. Fenton,p. 156. so Amongst this advice was what appearsself consciouscomments about learningfrom anotherwriter, seeFlora, p. 4: 'Be influencedby as many great artists as you can, but have the decencyeither to acknowledgethe debt outright, or to try to concealit. ' 51Hemingway (1996), p. 95. 52Flora, p. 4. 53 Quotedin G. Moore (ed.)The Penguin Book ofAmerican Verse(London: Penguin,1989), p. 280. 66

Hemingway'ssimilarity in style and subjectin the following extract to Pound's famoustwo-line Haiku, 'in a Station of the Metro' aboveis not a coincidence:

I havestood on the crowdedback platform of a seveno'clock

Batignollesbus as it lurchedalong the wet lamp fit streetwhile

the menwho were going home to suppernever looked from their

newspapersas we passedNotre Damegrey and dripping in the rain.54

Like Stein, Poundeschewed polysyllabic words and useda simple sentencestructure that was declarativeand short. The single imagewas expressedwith a hard, clear precisionrather than imbuedwith overt, symbolic import, yet appearedto transcend its ostensiblysimplistic origins. Hemingway applied Pound'stheory of imageryto operatewithin a longer narrative,where the influenceof other, interrelatedimages would work togetherto make more than the sum of their parts.It is significant in the exampleabove that the imagesin Hemingway*sexample (the platform, the street,tile men) form a narrativesequence, in which the overall effect is a productof the accumulationof images.Pound effectively rejectedthe useof expansivefigurative language his J ] is 55 with claim that ... the natural object alwaysthe adequatesymbol'.

This influenceculminated in the sparseuse of adjectivesand when used,they suggest more than they confirm:

54Quoted in Lynn,p. 166. 55Lynn, p. 159,my emphasis.The ideaof a naturalobject, as opposed the branded product, is extremelyimportant when considering Hemingway's suggestive language, as I shallshow. 67

Everyonethey met walking through the main streetof the town

Peduzzigreeted elaborately. Buon di, Arluro! Tipping his hat.

The bank clerk staredat him from the door of the Fascistcafd.

Groupsof three and four peoplestanding in front of the shops [ ] Nobody staredat the three. ... spokeor gaveany sign to them exceptthe town beggar,lean and old, with a spittle-thickcned

beard,who lifted his hat as they passed.(113)

In this examplefrom 'Out of Season'composed in 1923,Hemingway employs adjectivessparingly, carefully choosingwhen and how to usethem. When used,they are realistic, referring to seeminglyobjective facts of surface-realitydescription. For example,the beggaris 'lean and old* with a 'spittle-thickened' beard.These adjectivesreveal more than they resolvebecause they describewithout the tangible and direct intention of evaluation.'Lean and old' is different from 'skinny and ancient', say,because the latter are valued-ladenand evaluativerather than seemingly neutraldescriptions. Here, Hemingwayattempts to sustainthe illusion that he is, like the reporterhe oncewas, merely transcribingevents.

The basisfor Hemingway's reluctanceto insert a narrativecommentary is his unwillingnesstojudge the moral behaviourof his characters.The appropriate approachwas not to evaluatehis subjectsdirectly through 'telling' via a narrative commentary,but insteadto 'show' through behaviourand dialogue.In our example, the readerunderstands that Peduzziis socially excludedthrough his interactionswith others;it is shown,not told. Rather,Hemingway had the ambition to createthe illusion that it is the readerwho observesPeduzzi's predicament, as if he or shewere 68 approachingthe scenewithout a narrator.This story is about prejudice,without being itself prejudicial; the narratorassumes not a moral high-ground,but a neutrality which providesthe necessarilydistanced perspective to fairly discussthe theme.The moral authority of the narratoris withdrawn and the notion that Peduzziis excludedis a productof the reader'sengagement with the text, as a result of their observingthe textual 'clues'. It pointsto a differencebetween the morality of externalreality and fictional non-judgementwhich Hemingwayaspired to:

As a man you know who is right and wrong. You haveto make

decisionsand enforcethem. As a writer you shouldnot judge.

You shouldunderstand. 56

'As a man' representsthe idea of 'real life, whereyou know who is right or wrong.

But fiction is not concerned with real morals; rather, it should be more concerned with the development of a non-judgemental environment for its characters, a process that nurturesunderstanding of eventhe most extremebehaviour. His attemptsto

'understand'led him to suggestthe following approachto a young writer who asked him for '[ ] in headfor If I bawl try advice: ... get somebodyelse's a change. you out 57 to figure what I'm thinking aboutas well as how you feel about it*.

The 'truth' is somethingthat cannotbe 'told' but must be 'shown. By being shown, through the actionsof his characters,it is potentially opento interpretation.

-56Quoted in C. Fenton,p. 155. 57Quoted in C. Fenton,p. 155. 69

Hemingway's interestin moral neutrality, therefore,influenced the developmentof someof minimalism's most salientcharacteristics: to withdrawn the commentary from the narrator,to showthrough dialogueand behaviour,and to questionthe moral assumptionsthat the readermight bring to their reading.As such,he was asking the readerto engagewith his work in ways with which they might well be unfamiliar, and was challengingtheir assumptionsabout what literature shouldbe about,and how it shouldapproach its subject.Following Hemingway's apprenticeship,it meantthat it was becomingimpossible to write storiessuch as 'The Ash HeelsTendon' or 'The

Mercenaries',where he is called upon to reinforce a moral code and punish accordingly in the style of some of his contemporaries58 and he knew he could no longer use the moral figureheads found in these stories. 59

Hemingway'swriting had developedseveral minimalist characteristicsby the time 1n

Our Time was published.The housestyle of the early newspapersestablished his short, declarativesentences; by using sourcematerial from journalism he practisedhis fictional style; now, he realisedthe expressionand recreationin the readerof an authenticemotion was paramount.Stein had taught him to concentrate,select and

58These stories were someof his first and are reprinted in J. Fenton,pp. 770 and 753, respectively. 59Hemingway's compulsiontowards fiction was gatheringincreasing pace. Certain final articles in autumn 1923were transition piecesbetween newspaper features and short stories.He told a friend that he had written over a thousandpoems some of which he carried aroundin his coat pocket.Following the disastrousloss of many of his short stories,he had - by accident- only a handful left. Now he was readyto publish them. During this year, Hemingwaypublished his first book, ThreeStories and Ten Poems.However, he was not to find a more widespreadcritical acclaimuntil the publicationof in our time in 1924.This small volume collectedthe vignettes,which were called chaptersand numbered from one to eighteen.In the following year he publishedthe many of vignetteslargely unchanged,but with severalundergoing major revision, suchas the promotion of 'Chapter 10' in in our time to 'A Very Short Story' in the 1925edition of In Our Time.These vignettes now became'interchapters', insertedbetween the longer thirty-two short stories. 70 compose;whilst Pound's influencewas to inspire him to removeauthorial judgement, and so retain a seeminglyobjective, unadornedstyle. From all theseinfluences, and

more, the minimalist aestheticin the American short story was developed.But it was

not until In Our Time that this emergingaesthetic would find a significant example,a

collection that would anticipatemany of the methods,interests and practicesfound in

the Minimalist work of Carver and Barthelme. 71

Part Two: Hemingway's In Our Time

I intend to prove the different ways in which a reading of In Our Time engagesthe reader, how the elements of style directly affect the quality of his or her reading experience, and to conclude that - through an employment of the theories of Wolfgang

Iser - Hemingway's minimalist aesthetic creates interpretative equivocation, which is fundamental to a distinctive reading experience. I discuss the effects of Hemingway's minimalist aesthetic upon an implied reader. 60

Hemingway and Reader Response The role of the reader has found its way into several critical studies of Hemingway's fiction This long before .61 was the case reader response and reception theories gained critical currency. Typically, the earlier studies confined their analysis of the reader to help explain how the 'tension' of Hemingway's seemingly flat, terse and unemotive style could create such variety of interpretations, or emotional intenSity.62 More specifically, many critics saw Hemingway's methodas dependentupon the creation of a generalised,non-historical reader, especially in a considerationof his 'iceberg principle', which implicitly invited sucha readerto fill the interpretativegaps left by the omissionof an importantdetai 1.63 Following the developmentof readerresponse theories,Iser emergedas one of severalcritics primarily interestedin the creationof

' For collection of essayson readerresponse which providesof an introductionto the subject,see S. Suleimanand 1. Crossman(eds. ) TheReader in the Text: Essayson AudienceandInterpretalion (Surrey: PrincetonUP, 1980)and J. Tompkins 'Criticism and Feeling' CollegeEnglish (October 1977 Vol. 39), pp. 169-178. 61See E. Rovit Ernest lleminpray (New York: Twayne, 1963)pp. 78-107,126-147;W. J. Ong 'The Writer's Audience is Always a Fiction' PAfL4 (1975 Vol. 90, pp. 9-2 1), pp. 12-21; S. Beegel flemingiray's AleglectedShorlFiction: New Perspectives(Ann Arbor: UMI ResearchPress, 1989), pp. 46,47,49,51-56; H. Zapf 'Reflection Vs. Daydream:Two Types of Implied Readerin Hemingway's Fiction' in J. Benson(ed. ) New Critical Approachesto the Short Stories ofErnest flemingnvay (London: Duke UP, 1990),pp. 98-112. 62This idea is exploredfurther in Tompkins,pp. 169-178. 72 meaningas a result of the relationshipbetween reader, writer and teXt64.fie aligns his approachwith what he calls the 'phenomenological'theory:

The phenomenologicaltheory of art lays full stresson the ideathat,

in consideringa literary work, one must take into accountnot only

the actualtext but also, and in equal measure,the actionsinvolved in

respondingto that text.65

His work demonstratesa particular interestin the effect of indeterminacyon the

66 implied readerin fiction. For Iser, indeterminacyis inherentin all fiction to some degree.But - and this is of great significanceto my argument- he claims that some texts are more potentially indeterminatethan others.It is possible,even desirable, to suggestways in which specific texts, writers, and even specific literary 'movements' might exhibit this tendency.Iser is a useful theorist becauseof his distinction between texts that readily avail themselvesto indeterminacyand thosethat do not; his specific focus on the mechanismsfor how texts cometo be indeterminate;and the subsequent suggestionthat an indeterminatetext demandsa engagedreader response to f HI the

6gaps'left in its narrative.

63See J. Smith 'Hemingway and the Thing Left Out'Journal ofAfodern Literature (1971 Vol. 2 pp. 169-182);L. Phillips (ed.) Ernest Ilemingivay ýn Writing (London: GranadaPublishing, 1985),pp. 75- 80; S. BeegelIlemingivay's Craft of Omission(Ann Arbor: UMI ResearchPress, 1987), pp. 34 -62. ' For an excellent introduction to the works of Iscr and his place within receptiontheory, seeR. Holub ReceptionTheory. A Critical Introduction (London: Methuen, 1984),pp. 82-107 '5 W. I scr TheImplied Reader:Patterns ofCommunication in Prose Ficiionfrom Bunyanto Beckett (Baltimore: JohnsHopkins UP Press,1974), p. 274. 66This subjectoccupies his essay'Indeterminacy and the Reader'sResponse in ProseFiction' (W. Iser Prospecting:From ReaderResponse to Literary Anthropology (Baltimore: JohnsHopkins UP, 1989), pp. 3-3 1. 73

There are three sectionsto this part which explore different causesfor indeten-ninacy.

They are: the detachednarrator, the useof suggestivelanguage and omission.In the

first section,I discusshow the narratorof In Our Time can be defined as ultimately absent,that is, free from making interpretationsabout the narrative.This negatesthe

hermeneuticinfluence of the narratoras a sourceof reliable knowledge:in the

absenceof sucha narrator,the readermust begin to interpretthe text for themselves.

In the secondsection, I explore the useof suggestivelanguage. Once again,this

dependsupon the minimalist enterpriseof reduction.Evidence of this restraintcan be

found in the unelaborateddescriptive idiom, which appearsto function as simply denotativebut is in fact highly suggestive.These two ideasform the basisof the next

section,which we might considerthe most explicit manifestationof the minimalist tendencyto reduce:the 'Iceberg principle', or what I call the theory of omission.I end this section with a reading that draws all three elements together, suggesting that

minimalist elements depend on working together for their effects. Throughout, my

aim is to suggest how these significant aspects of Hemingway's aesthetic contribute to

create equivocation in the text, and how this in turn might engage an implied reader. 74

SectionOne: TheDetached Narrator In A Dictionary ofNarratology, Gerald Prince offers a definition of what he calls an

6absent'narrator:

A maximally covert narrator;an impersonalnarrator; a narrator

presentingsituations and eventswith minimum narratorialmediation

67 and in no way referring to a narrating self of narrating activity.

This definition concurs with the outline given by Seymour Chatman in Story and

Discourse:

The narratormay be overt -a real character(Conrad's Marlow)

or an intrusive outside party (the narrator of Toni Jones). Or he

may be 'absent', as in someof Hemingway's of Dorothy Parker's

68 storiescontaining only dialogueand uncommented-uponaction.

The criteria that both Prince and Chatman use for their definition of the absent narrator are entirely consistent with my definition of Hemingway's narrator as absentin the discussionto follow. The absentnarrator does not comment upon the action and dialogue, and examplesof showing and not telling are abundant;the

67G. PrinceA Dictionary ofNarratology (Aldershot: ScholarPress, 1988), p. 1 6' S. ChatmanStory and Discourse: Narrative Structure in Fiction and Film (London: Cornell UP, 1978),p. 33. 75 narrator of In Our Time leavesthe narrative 'uncommentedupon', unexplained. In demonstratingthat the narrator of In Our Time is absent,I am providing the critical vocabulary for a concept which createsthe foundation for the rest of this section.

The absentnarrator is a cornerstoneof the unwillingnessof Hemingway's minimalism to explain itself. Iser is especiallyinterested in the ways in which narrator's affect the creationof meaning,and particularly createindeterminacy. In one suchanalysis, he turns his attentionto the role of the narratorand especiallythat found in many 19'hcentury novels:

We all notice in reading novels that the narrative is often

interspersedwith the author"s commentson events. These

commentsare frequently in the nature of an evaluation of

what has happened.

[ ] here himself the ... we might say that the author removes gaps; for with his commentshe tries to create a specific

conception of his narrative.69

This commentaryand its 'specific conceptionof the narrative' have implications for the way in which the readermight respondto the text:

69Iser (1989), p. 12. 76

So long asthis remainsthe solefunction of the commentary,the

participationof the readerin the executionof the underlyingnarrative

intentionmust diminish. The authorhimself tells the readerhow his

tale is to be understood.70

Although Iser usedthe I 91hcentury novel as the implied examplethroughout his discussionof narrativecommentary, it is equally applicableto the short story.7 1 In the following example,from Guy de Maupassant's'Boule de Suif, the narratorreacts to the presenceof a victorious army in a conqueredtown by providing a sustained commentary upon its effects:

In their darkenedrooms the inhabitantshad given way to the

samefeelings of panic which is arousedby naturalcataclysms

[ ] For feeling is ... the same experiencedwhenever the established is [ ] The burying order of things upset ... earthquake a whole people beneaththe ruins of their houses or the victorious army

slaughteringall thosewho resist all theseare terrifying scourges

which undermineall our belief in eternaljustice and all the trust we 72 havebeen taught to place in divine protectionand humanreason.

Significantly, this idea is a responseto a central event in the narrative,the occupation of the town. It takesthe form of an evaluationof the effectsof the occupationupon the local inhabitants.Through comparisonswith those'feelings of panic' afforded by

70 ISCr (1989), p. 12. 71Iscr (1989), p. 12 andpassim. 72R. Colet (ed.) Guy de Afazipassant:SelecledShorl Stories (London: PenguinBooks, 1971),p. 21. 77 natural disasters,such as earthquakes,the narratorsuggests that we cometo question the very fabric upon which our society is based.We might feel, following Iser's comments,that we can either say 'yes or no' to this evaluationand it is positedas a statementof irrefutable fact. The explicit intention of the evaluationis that it is to be regardedas a truism, as the movementfrom the particular to the generalculminates in: 'all our belief and: 'all the trust' shows(my emphasis).It is not just a subjective responsewhich acknowledgesits limitations as a truth, but assertsitself as the singularand correctway to interpretthe affect of the occupationupon the locals.73 In doing so, it intendsto direct the interpretationof the reader,so that the readermight, in the face of sucha powerful and universal assertion,concur. 74

Thereare no suchcommentaries from the narratorto be found in In Our Time. Rather, the narratorremains absent and describesthe behaviourof the characterswithout evaluation and without explaining the effect of the narrative. In the following extract, from 'The Doctor and the Doctor*sWife', we find the immediatereaction by Dr.

Adams, following his humiliating confrontationwith Dick Boulton:

The doctor chewedthe beardon his lower lip and looked at Dick

Boulton. Then he turned away and walked up the hill to the cottage.

They could seefrom his back how angry he was. They all watched

him walk up the hill and go inside the cottage.(48)

7' This type of authorial commentaryis well establishedand is a function of most non-dramaticpre 201h centuryfiction. At its zenith, the readerwould be addresseddirectly. For example,see Spenser's Faerie Queeneand Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. " For an introductionto narratologywhich includesan analysisof point of view, and the role of the absentnarrator, see S. Onegaand J. Landa(eds. ) Narralology (New York: Longman, 1996). 78

In the first instance,we cometo know the effects of the confrontationupon Dr.

Adamsthrough a brief but suggestivedescription of his behaviour,as he: 'chewedthe beardon his lower lip'. This normally neutral activity is, in the contextof this conflict, an indicator of his emotionalstate, a sign of the agitationthe conflict has upon him. Unlike the examplefrom 'Boule de Suif, there is no direct narrative evaluationof the action which seeksto direct our interpretation.The Hemingway narratoris defined by its propensityto show and not to tell. 75By this, I meanthat much of Hemingway's methodcan be consideredin light of the function of indirect and direct narrationin literature.In indirect narration,the narratortells us what is .In many casesthis includesan evaluationof what is narrated,as we have seen in the Maupassant example above. However, in the example of direct narration, or speech,the charactersshow us how they feel becausetheir thoughtsand feelings are expressedunmediated by the narrator(although not unmediatedby the author,of course;he or shehas decided what and how to 'show'). Much of Hemingway's

indirect narrationaspires to the condition of showing. He attemptsto demonstrate what the caseis without stating it and as such,creates a narrativethat is 'free' from textual commentary.So we - like the characterswho watch the Doctor - are awareof his angernot through what is said but through the highly evocativeand extremely

subtleobservation of his back as he walks away. Here, turning to leave is an equally 76 powerful statementabout how he feels to a narrativecomment.

75By the time Hemingwaywrote For Whomthe Bell Tolls (1944), in which we are permitteddirect accessto the consciousnessof the narratorRobert Jordan, he appearedto haveabandoned the idea, althoughit had occupiedhis thoughtsfor over thirty years. 7' The notion to 'show' through the minutiaeof behaviouranticipates Barthelme's great interestin body languagein Moon Deluxe, to which I shall turn my attention in ChapterFour. 79

Through suchsuggestive and slight commentary,In Our Time aspiresto a condition of neutral detachment,free from passingthe kind of commentthat we find in 'Boule de Suif' and throughoutthe dominant form of I 91hcentury realist literature.The ideal of authorialobjectivity, basedupon his ambition that: 'As a writer you shouldnot judge. You should understand'is aligned with the modernistaspiration to reveal,not resolve.77 The absentnarrator is an embodimentof this principle.

Iser's theory of the commentatingnarrator needs to be refined if it is to be usefully applied in a more sophisticatedanalysis of the narrators' influencethe reader's response.In many cases,interpretations by the narratorare more subtle,covert and perhapsmore seeminglyinnocuous than Iser's 'commentaries'imply and as the

Maupassantexample demonstrates. As a result, it is necessaryto extendIser's theory to encompassa] I interpretativeacts madeby the narratorabout the narrative.Without suchrefinement, it is al I too obvious that many texts do not presentthe kind of commentarieswhich Iser focusesupon - thosewhich directly addressthe readerand posit a universal'truth' - and in noting this, we run the risk of ignoring the more subtlebut equally persuasiveinfluence the narratormight exert in lessdirect forms of influence. Regardlessof theseexamples, the processby which they influencethe readerremains the same:when confrontedwith an evaluativeact by the narrator,the readeris invited to either reject it, or concur.As a result, theseacts by the narrator

limit the responseof the reader;the narratorinterprets the story for the reader, underminingthe reader'srole as creatorsof meaning.

77See Phillips, p. 31. 80

Hemingway's 'A Doctor and the Doctor's Wife' hasan exampleof a more complex evaluationof behaviour.Initially, we come to know the effect upon Dr. Adams through the characterswho observehim: 'They could seefrom his back how angry he was'. Ratherthan merely show his behaviour,as we found in the exampleabove, it is now interpreted.The charactersinfer that he is angry becausethey interprethis back as a sign that he is angry. However,just as this transition is madefrom descriptionto interpretation(from an observationof his back to an assessmentof its meaning),so the perspectiveof the narrative is temporarily transferredfrom the narratorto that of the characters.As a result, the viewpoint is no longer that of the sourceof privileged

information - the omniscient,third-person narrator - but is merely that of a character within the story. Although there is an interpretationmade here, it is madewithout threateningthe impersonalityof the narrative becauseit's couchedin the subjective

responseof severalcharacters. Even when interpretingthe narrative,its authority is

undermined.Although this observationis perhapsmore covert than a direct

expressionof the narrator'somniscience, it amountsto the sameprinciple: it is an

interpretationof the narrative.Such examples signal that detachmentis more of an

aspirationthan an absolutecondition and it would requirea naYvereading of

Hemingwayand indeedany seeminglyabsent narrator to assertthat detachmentwas

complete.There is no suchthing as a simply 'innocent' style.

Despitethis, we can certainly separatethe kind of commentarymade by the narrator

of 'Boule de Suif and the storiesof In Our Time. Wherethe narratorof 'Boule de

Suif intendsto provide a universalthesis that encompassesall humankind,the

interpretationof the exampleabove merely evaluatesthe behaviourof one man. There

is no assertionthat this specific scenesomehow provides the basisfor a deeper 81 understandingof humanity. Where it occurs,commentary is localised,unelaborated and sparse;it is minimalist, and follows the effect of all the other minimalist methods by reducingthe amountof information madeavailable to the reader.

A covert narratoris not presentin the narrative,and so there is only one instanceof a first-person narrative in In Our Time ('My Old Man'). Whereas a first-person narrator necessarilybrings their interpretationof events,the third-personnarrator does not.

Therefore,using a third-personnarrator foregroundsthe possibility of objectivity (at leastin ambition, sinceobjectivity is an illusion). This is evident in the following example,from SherwoodAnderson's 'Death in the Woods', where the first-person narratorreflects upon eventsthat have taken place sometime ago:

Neither of us had ever seen a woman's body before. It may have

been the snow, clinging to the frozen flesh, that made it look so

white and lovely, so like marble.78

The first-person narrator directly witnesses events and provides an interpretation of them. As such, we cannot question the validity of subjective response: if the corpse appeared like 'marble' to this narrator, then we must accept that this is the case. What is implicit in many first-person narratives is that the story exists to illuminate the

4personality' of the narrator as much as it does the themes of the narrative itself. This is made explicit in 'Death in the Woods':

78J. Cochrane(cd. ) ThePenguin Book ofAmefican Shon Slories (London: Penguin Books, 1969), p. 292. 82

The whole thing, the story of the old woman's death,was to me as

I grew older like music heardfrom far off. -Thenotes had to be

picked up slowly one at a time. Somethinghad to be understood.

[ 1.1 I dissatisfied ... am only explainingwhy was thenand havebeen ever since.I speakof that only that you may understand

why I havebeen impelled to try to tell the simple story over again.79

It is the characterof the narratorthat we come to learn about,just as we did in

Maupassant,although here in a lessdirect manner.This also hasthe effect of creating a personalityfor the narratoras one, if indeednot the, centralcharacter in the story.

The narrator'sexplanation controls or mediatesthe reader'sparticipation because it providesan unquestionablysubjective f irst-personaccount; if the narratortel Is us that he felt afraid, then the readercannot refute this. Even for a narratorwho is unreliable,

- that is, he tells us he is afraid but the text tells us otherwise - the reader cannot prove beyond doubt that the events were otherwise, given that fiction necessarily does not refer to a verifiable set of truths. Rather, we are, like in the Maupassant example, left with an insurmountable truth of the subjective response (although, paradoxically, it is subjective, made truth by the mere force and isolation of its telling). In this example, this occurs becausethe tension that is created between what the story means and who it means something to is resolved; it exists so that: 'we may understand why I have

80 been impelled to tell the simple story over again'.

79Cochrane, p. 294. '0 Cochrane,p. 294. 83

The absentnarrator rejects the notion of a narrativepersona, a narrating

'consciousness'that interpretsthe narrative.Hemingway intendedto strip the narrator of In Our Time of any linguistic indicator that the narratorwas providing a subjective response,or that the narratorwas indeedinvolved in the act of narration.The absent narratoris entirely un-self-conscious.The detachednarrator should possessneither a fictive consciousnessnor 'personality'; it is the object of their narrationthat the reader shouldbe contemplating,not their appreciationof it (as we haveseen in the 'Death in the Woods' exampleabove). Central to this methodwas the employing of an unelaborated,declarative narrative idiom:

The skierskept to the stretchof snow along the side.The road

dipped sharplyto a streamand then ran straightup-hill. Through

the woods they could seea long, low-eaved,weather-beaten

building. Throughthe trees it was a fadedyellow. Closerthe

window frameswere paintedgreen. The paint was peeling.

Nick knockedhis clampsloose with one of his ski sticks and

kicked off the skis. (122)

To comparethis with James''The Tum of the Screw':

The Story had held us, round the fire, sufficiently breathless,

but exceptthe obvious remarkthat it was gruesome,as on

ChristmasEve in an old housea strangetale shouldessentially

be, I rememberno commentuttered till somebody 84

happenedto note it as the only casehe had met in which such

a visitation fell upon a child. 81

The length of a sentencehelps determinethe way infori-nationis madeavailable to the reader.The Hemingwayshort sentenceoften, but not exclusively,employs a single clausefor eachsentence. The extract aboveexemplifies this model. Wherea subordinateclause exists it is in direct supportof the primary clause:'The road dipped sharplyto a streamand then ran straight up-hill. ' (my emphasis).This helps convey a senseof a central,unified proposition.Hemingway's methodis to provide an independent,single unit of information expressedwithout the influenceof competing subordinateclauses. 82

James'method of narration is an attemptto capturethe processesof consciousnessof the narratorrather than the minutiaeof what happened.The ideathat the story 'held

[ ] breathless'is direct intimation us ... sufficiently a of the mentalstate of the narrator as a reactionto the events.The complexity of the syntax in the James'example - with its clausalducking and weaving, its feints, delaysand hoveringsuggestions - approximatethe consciousnessof a complex central character,and the sourceof meaningin the short story, the narrator.83 Jarnes' narrator evaluates the story he tells in the processof that telling, and, like the narratorof 'Boule de Suif and 'Death in the

" T. J. Lustig (efllknryJames: TheTurn oftheScreiv and OtherSiories(Oxford: Oxford UP, 1992), P. 115. 82See Chapter Two, 'Sentencingthe Short Story' in S. Lohafer Comingto Termswith the Short Story (Louisiana:Louisiana State UP, 1983). 83It is not my intentionto privilege one literature,or writer, aboveanother and I do not suggestthat Hemingwaywas in someway 'better' than Jamesor other writers. But I am interestedin the different ways in which different literaturescreate effect, and more specifically, the distinctive qualities that eachnarrative technique brings to its reading. 85

Woods', personalisesthe story at the expenseof encouragingthe readerto provide their accountof the narrative.James' narrative technique is equally as sophisticatedas

Hemingway's;and eventhough their methodsdiffer, the highly ambiguous conclusionto 'The Turn of the Screw' demandsa greatdeal from the reader,similar in degreeto that of minimalism. Yet, given that eachtechnique is radically dissimilar, the processof indeterminacydiffers. The readerof Jamesmust pick their way through the various digressionsand complexitiesof a hugely sophisticatedmind in order to trace the chain of thought the leadsineluctably to the conclusion.The various digressions,qualifications and asidesserve to representthe ebb and flow of the thought patternsof the narratoras he recountsthe story. The centralproposition spans severalideas and is compiled of several,competing clauses, which hold the reader's attentiontemporarily until the next servesto colour what comesbefore and pre-empt what might comenext. In one sense,this is aligned to Joycel'sexperimentation with the streamof consciousnessmethod in Portrait ofihe Artist (1916) and later in

Ulysses(1922).

However, this is not Hemingway's goal; he does not want to explore the mind of his narrator's character. As a result, his short sentence is a more transparent idiom for a detached narrator that wishes to report the scene. We are not told, whether explicitly through direct statement, or implicitly through the use of language, how the narrator interprets the events. The narrative is perceived not through the particular human consciousness,but more objectively, as if it aspired to the condition of an objective 86 report, where both the creatorand narratorhave disappeared. Will the audience interpretthis artwork in their place?84

Dialogue is perhapsthe most fully realiseddemonstration of the principle to show, not

85 tell, and is a basisfor the absentnarrator to reject overt interventionin the narrative.

Its usecreates the illusion that the readerwitnesses the direct action of a character unmediatedthrough the interpretingpresence of the narrator.It is no wonderthat dialogueis usedso liberally throughoutIn Our Time (and throughoutminimalism in general).In many sequencesthe narrative is created,sustained and concludedby the characters'dialogue. This hasthe effect of displacingthe narrator's position as central in the narrative.

The following example from '' is typical of many of the stories of ln Our Time, in that narrativetension and subsequentdenouement is createdby the characters through dialogue with little intervention by the narrator:

They sat on the blanketwithout touching eachother and watchedthe

moon rise.

'You don't haveto talk silly,' Marjorie said.'What's really the matterT

'I don't know.'

'Of courseyou know.'

" As such,Hemingway's rejection of a strongauthorial through his voice is reminiscent,at least in passing,of RolandBarthes 'Death of the Author' theory. " For an analysisof the narrativeidiom of FrederickHenry, narratorof Hemingway'sA Farewell to Arms which is illuminates the presentdiscussion, see W. Gibson Tough,Sweet andStuffy: An Essayon Modern American Prose St),,Ies (Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1966). 87

'No I don't. '

'Go on and say it. '

Nick looked at the moon, coming up over the hills.

'It isn't fun anymorc.' (55)

The narratortells us little more than what Nick seesand a pivotal point in the plot of this story is a productof dialogue,not direct expositionby the narrator.One result is that the readeris able to reflect upon Nick's actionsand speechwithout interference from the narrator.Dialogue gives the readerthe illusion of 'direct access'into the thoughtsof the charactersand as such it is highly prized by Hemingway.When dialogue is used extensively, the story might even be said to aspire to the condition of short stageplaY86. It must be noted,however, that the illusion is temporarily suspendedwhen the readerrealises it is Nick through whom the narrative is focalised: the aspirationtowards objectivity is an illusion, but the overall impressionis that the narratoris 'maximally covert%in keepingwith minimalism subtlety, it is for the readeris discernthis highly compromisedversion of narratorialintervention.

Dialogue is a direct 'showing' of character's thoughts and feelings, but typically it is pared down and incomplete, and although we are permitted direct accessto thoughts and feelings, the charactersrarely provide a great insight or motive. 'It isn't fun anymore' is the terse and inexplanatory equivalent of the kind of non-disclosive languagefound throughoutIn Our Time.The terseidiom of the characterscan be equally found in the narrator.The reasonfor this is that much figurative language,

86This notion reachedit culmination in the apparentshort ,'', Fenton(1995), p. 268 88 especiallyadjectives and adverbs, evaluate their subject- which threatensto undermine the assumedneutrality of the absentnarrator. To re ect their use,then, is to reject explicit evaluation.This is preciselythe effect we find throughoutthe storiesof In Our

Timeand is particularlyapparent in the descriptionsof physicalenvironments, such as landscapes,many of which comeat the beginningof the short storiesin orderto contextualisetheir mood.The way in which the absentnarrator's idiom preventsdirect judgementis bestillustrated by comparison.First, we havea descriptionof Sleepy

Hollow, from the shortstory 'The Legendof SleepyHollow' by WashingtonIrving:

Not far from this [ ] is little [ ] village ... there a valley ... which is the in [ ] The one of quietestplaces the world. ... occasional [ ] is breaks whistle of a quail ... almost the only soundthat ever in [ ]I had into it upon the unifon-ntranquillity. ... wandered at [ ] by noon time ... and was startled the roar of my own gun, as it broke the Sabbath silence stillness around, and was prolonged

by [ ]A drowsy, dreamy and reverberated angry echoes. ...

influence seemsto hang over the land, and to pervade the very

atmosphere. 87

Figurative languagelike this is explanatory,and is evidenceof evaluationby the narrator.There are severalexamples of the useof adjectives,which are interpretations of the quality of their subjects,and as suchnecessarily evaluate them. The first can be found in 'quietest', shortly followed 'uniform tranquillity'. Ratherthan demonstrate

87Cochrane, pp. 11-12. 89 its qualities (by example,through 'showing'), we are told by the narratordirectly what thesequalities are (throughdirect description,by 'telling'). The sub-narrativewhich tells of the narratorwandering into the valley and disturbingthe peacewith his hunting rifle, beginsto demonstrateby contrasthow tranquil this valley is.

However, it doesso through recourseto exaggeratedfigurative language,found in

'Sabbathsilence' and the personi fication of the echoescreated by his gun as 'angry'.

Finally, the movementfrom the specific to the general,witnessed in the earlier examplefrom Toule de Suif, ensuresthat this evaluationis not merely a subjective, localisedimpression; the 'drowsy, dreamyinfluence' seemsto 'pervadethe very atmosphere',making it more universalin application.Compare this methodof evaluatinga descriptionof a physical environmentwith the following, taken from the openingof 'The End of Something':

In the old days flortons Bay was a lumbering town. No one

who lived in it was out of soundof the big sawsin the mill by

the lake. Then one year there were no more logs to make lumber. [ ] The big had its hoisted board ... mill machinerytaken out and on one of the schoonersby the men who had worked in the mill.

The schoonermoved out of the bay toward the open lake

carrying two great saws,the travelling carriagethat hurled the

logs againstthe revolving circular saws,and the rollers, wheels,

belts iron hull-deep load lumber. [ ] and piled on a of ... the schoonermoved out into the open lake, carrying with it

everything (53) 90

In this extract,there are few adjectivesor adverbs.When they do appear,they are unexaggeratedand plain; the saw and the mill are 'big', the logs are 'hurled' and the lake is 'open'. What theseand the other adjectivesand adverbshave in commonis that they are a productof a narratorwho refusesto elaborateupon their significance.

We are not offered a further commentary upon the significance of the size of the mill, althoughit is mentionedmore than once,or that the logs were 'hurled', the lake

&open'.It is direct becauseit usesthe five sensesto observeand expressthe scene.As a result, adjectivesand adverbssuch as 'big', 'hurled' and 'open' would be qualified by observation.Unlike 'quietest', 'dreamy', or 'Sabbathsilence', they refer to the externalqualities of the subjectswhich they describe,and expressedwithout further, evaluativedescription by a neutral idiom. This doesnot meanthat thesepassages are flat, insignificant, or without figurative import. Rather,the effect of the passageis to be found elsewhere, through the use of suggestive language which is largely independent of a didactic function. 91

Section Tivo: Use of Suggestive Language Hemingway's use of suggestive figurative language contributed to the complexity of interpretation, and the degree to which the reader must contribute to the text. The reader is asked to make some extremely sophisticated connections between subtle and shifting symbols, the meaning of which are oflen only apparent in their relationships with one another. The difference between what the text denotes and connotes helps creates interpretative 'gaps' in meaning:

[Gaps] give the readera chanceto build his own bridges,

relating the different aspectof the object which havethus far been

revealedto him. [The reader]fills in the remaininggaps. fie removes

them by a free play of meaning-projectionand thus himself provides

the unformulatedconnections between the particular views.88

The imageof 'building his own bridges' is a useful one to keep in mind, becausethe useof suggestivelanguage throughout In Our Time is the productof relationships betweenideas, words and phrases.Such connections are suggestivein Hemingway's minimalism, becausethey are a product of the unelaborated,declarative, 'unsurprised' style. Facedwith this notion and the kind of uninterpreting,absent narrator establishedin the previoussection, the narrativemight be consideredas unernotive, slight and ineffectual.Yet preciselythe oppositeis true. Indeed,this is part of the paradoxicalquality of literary minimalism, the potentialto move the readerwith apparentlyso little means,that less is more. What I want to demonstratein this sectionis how the storiesof In Our Time make useof suggestivelanguage which

"I ser (1989), p. 9 92 initially appearssimply declarativebut is actually highly connotativeand so invites '9 the reader to 'make bridges' between seemingly dis-contiguous ideas.

A defining characteristic of Hemingway's minimalist style in In Our Time is its infrequent use of extravagant figurative tropes and a rejection of metaphor and simile.

These figurative tropes create associations between words that are the basis of poetic language, transforming language from the merely denotative to the connotative, something more than merely communicative of descriptions and ideas but also of emotions. In the absenceof such traditional figurative language, Hemingway would use another method, differently suggestive than the explicit comparisons created by direct metaphor and simile.

One way we can explain the suggestiveeffect of Hemingway's minimalist style is 90 through an analysis basedupon Roman Jakobson's theory of poetic language. Here, the distinction is made between two axes of language,the syntagmatic and the paradigmatic.

The syntagmatic, which we might visualise as operating along a conceptualvertical axis, operatesby associatingcontiguous words. I will return to this important function shortly.

The paradigmatic,which we might say operatesalong a horizontal axis, doesso by substitutingone meaningof a word for another.The simile is an exampleof the paradigmaticfunction of language.This works by creatingrelationships between

89See C. Lamb 'Observations on Hemingway, Suggestiveness, and the Modem Short Story' AfidWsl Quarterly (Autumn 1995 Vo. 37 pp. 11-27). 90Lodge reprints excerpts of Jakobson with an introduction and brief discussion, including 'The Metaphoric and Metonymic Poles' in Lodge, pp. 57-61 93 ideasthrough a direct comparison.In the following examplefrom HermanMelville's

'Bartleby', I haveused italics to emphasisethe simile:

Turkey Englishman[ ] In was a short, pursy ... the morning, one might say, his face was of a fine florid hue, but after twelve o'clock 91 [] it blazed like a gralefull of Christmas coals.

The simile makesthe comparisonexplicit. In the metaphor,however, there is a more implicit comparison,and it can createa more nuancedconnection between disparate elements. Again, from 'Bartleby':

The [ ] The Egyptian the yard was entirely quiet ... character of

masonry weighed upon me with its gloom. But a soft imprisoned

turf grew under foot. The heartof the eternalpyramids, it seemed,

wherein, by some strange magic, through the clefts, grass-seed,

dropped by birds, had sprung.92

The seeminglybarren environment of the prison yard in which grassnevertheless flourishesis comparedto the 'heart' of the eternalpyramids, tombs for the ancient dead,whose massive construction would seeminglyresist the fertility of the grass seed.What theseexplicit and implicit comparisonshave in commonis that they are

9' Cochrane, p. 77 (my emphasis). '2 Cochrane, p. I 11. 94 interpretationsof objectswithin the narrative;they provide a commentaryon their subject.This function in a similar methodto adjectivesand adverbsin that they also provide and evaluativefunction. Yet, making suchcomparisons is the foundationof literary fiction. Without comparisons,or, more loosely, relationshipsbetween ideas,

Hemingway'sdeclarative style was in dangerof becomingmerely reportage.

Consequently,Hemingway sought the kinds of comparisonsthat metaphorand simile invite but without the narrativeevaluation that both provide. Therefore,he could not usemetaphor and simile directly. Rather,he soughtto createcomparisons between objects,or more loosely, relationshipsbetween them, through other methods.

Repetition The useof repetition is an important elementin the useof Hemingway's suggestive language.Repetition is a meansof creating 'paradigmaticrelationships' which exist upon the vertical ratherthan horizontal axis of literary language,but withdraws from using a figurative languagethat fulfils this function directly. Repetitionmay occur in grammaticalstructures, phrases and words but for this discussion,I will focus upon the repetition of words. More specifically, I want to discusswhat I call local and widespreaduses of repetition. It is an importantelement in Hemingway's method becauseit createssuggestive relationships between seemingly disparate ideas without making explicit invitations to the readerto makethose comparisons.

Local repetition occurswhen a word is repeatedwithin a single sentenceor passage.

This extract is from the openingof 'Big Two HeartedRiver': 95

The train went on up the track out of sight, aroundone of the hills

of burnt timber. Nick sat down on the bundleof canvasand bedding

the baggageman had pitched out of the door of the baggagecar.

There was no town, nothing but the rails and the burned-overcountry.

The thirteen salonsthat had lined the one streetof Seneyhad not left a

trace.The foundationsof the Mansion Housestuck up abovethe ground.

The stonewas chippedand split by the fire. It was all that was left of the

town of Seney.Even the surfacehad beenburned off the ground.(143)

The useof the word 'burnt' and its variations repeatedthroughout the passagecreate associationsbetween ideas that are not explicitly madeby metaphoricallanguage. The first useof the word appearswhile the train is 'out of sight' from the perspectiveof the town and introducesthe suggestionof its destruction,although as yet it is confined to the burnt timber. As Nick leavesthe train, the readertemporarily assumeshis perspective:there is 'no town, nothing' becauseit hasbeen 'burned-over', an evocativeimage about which this passagewill turn. There follows more specific examples,the salonsand the Mansion house,culminating in its stonethat was

'chipped and split by fire'. Finally, the perspectivebecomes once again more distant, as the narratordescribes the surfacethat was 'burned off' the ground.The repeated word 'burnt' and its alternativescreate a patternof associationbetween non-figurative observationsin the text so that the readeris invited to createrelationships between seeminglydisparate elements. One of thoseelements is the link betweenpast and present.Part of the effect of this passageis achievedby comparinghow Seneywas 96

beforeit was destroyedby fire and how it is now. Suchshifts in time areechoed by

shifts in perspective:-Seney is at first 'out of sight', then it is shownimplicitly through

Nick's perspective,through to a specific focus uponthe different componentsof the formertown, towardswhat appearsa generalsummary. What assures continuity betweenthese are the associationscreated by the word 'bumt'. Importantly,the notion that Seneyis 'burnt over' introducesan explicit connectionwith the implicit sourceof

Nick's distress,the war. Repetitionis a form of 'composition',a skill Hemingway developedfrom his work asjoumalist andthrough the influenceof Poundand Stein, by placing ideasin proximity as to invite a comparisonbetween them.

A less common form of repetition is its widespread use, where a word can be found repeatedseveral times throughout the short story, almost as a motif. In the following example, from 'Mr and Mrs. Elliot, the word 'tried' is used repeatedly:

Mr. and Mrs. Elliot tried very hard to have a baby. They tried as often

as Mrs. Elliot could stand it. They tried in Boston after they were married

and they tried coming over on the boat. They did not try very often on

the boat becauseMrs. Elliot was sick as Southern women are sick. (10 1)

The frequent repetition of 'tried' is a figurative evocation of their repeated copulation. That they 'tried very hard' implies a senseof toil and suggeststhat such rcpctitivc sex is both joyless and monotonous, culminating in the unambiguously 97

final: 'They tried as often as Mrs. Elliot could standit%93 A transformationin the

relationshipbetween Mr and Mrs. Elliot is expressedthrough the useof the rhyming

'cried': 'She cried a good deal and they tried severaltimes to havea babybefore

they left Dijon. '(] 02) 'Cried' hasaugmented 'tried' as the repeatedword, shifting

the emphasisfrom a seeminglyfutile attemptat conceptionto the unhappinessthat

is its result.

A further shift in Mrs. Elliot's relationship is once again expressedthrough a rhyming

word. Crying is now something that she can share with her girl friend: 'Mrs. Elliot

becamemuch brighter afler her girl friend came and they had many good cries together' (103). Later, this forms a comparison between her relationship with her husbandand her girl friend:

fie and Mrs. Elliot tried very hard to have a baby in the big hot bedroom

on the big, hard bed.

And in the following paragraph:

Mrs. Elliot and the girl friend now slept together in the big medieval

bed. They had many a good cry together. (103)

93One of the primary motives for using repetition with I lemingway's stories is for what Stein called 'insistence'. The repetition reinforces the idea by repeating it; the more it is said, the more it becomes true. It is also a notable aspectof D. 11.Lawrence's prose. 98

Tlirough the connection between repeatedrhyming words, Hemingway offers us a

linguistic representationof theme; the direct comparison between the two couples.

The idea transformation of the central of the story - that Mr. and Mrs. Elliot 'tried' for

a baby - into the notion that Mrs. Elliot shared her unhappinesswith her new girl

friend and 'cried' on the married couple's bed shared is at the heart of this

interpretation of the story. At a local level, the repetition reveals the extent of the

frustration at unsuccessfuland continual attempts at pregnancy and as such represents

repetition as monotonous. But as it appearsthroughout the narrative, it is transformed

into something that eventually replacesit, a sadnessshared by the women as they cry

together; 'trying' inevitably leads to 'crying'. The subtle interrelationship between

languageand meaning is highly sophisticatedand demandsthe reader is able to

recognise the changing meaning of a phonetically similar term. It representsa shift

away from a direct and controlled indicator of meaning towards a series of complex

interactions. For Iscr, this kind of complexity would render the text indeterminate; for

my purposes,it is another way of demonstrating how Hemingway's text displayed a

highly-wrought poetic languageas a foundation for a sustainedengagement on behalf

of the reader.

Minimalism and Imagism By focusing upon the compositional elementsof I lemingway*s style and the precise use of figurative, or 'poctic', languageand rhyme, I am suggestingan analogy with poetry. I'lic comparisonsbetween I lemingway's minimalist style and both the theories and practicesof Imagist poetry arc illuminating. The critic and editor F.S.

Flint sought to define Imagisme in a seriesof principles, which he outlined in the 99

March 1913edition of Poetry, and which were supplementedwith further information by Ezra Pound:

1. Direct treatmentof the "thing, " whether subjectiveor objective.

2. To useabsolutely no word that doesnot contributeto the

presentation.

3. As regardingrhythm: to composein sequenceof the musical phrase,

not in sequenceof a metronome.

They held also a "Doctrine of the Image," which they had not committed 94 to writing.

By using this approach,through a comparisonof an examplefrom In Our Time and an

Imagist poem, I hope to reveal how suggestive language operates in respect of the singular iniage as source of meaning. This following extract comes from the opening story of In Our Time, 'On the Quai at Smyrna':

All thosemules with their forelegsbroken and pushedinto

the shallow water. (38)

Comparethis with H.D. "s 'Oread", a poem consideredby Poundto be one of the most fully-realised Imagist poem:

Whirl up, sea-

Whirl your pointed pines,

94P. Jones(ed. ) Imagist Poetry (London: PenguinBooks, 1972),p. 129. 100

Splashyour greatpines

On our rocks,

Hurl your greenover us,

Cover us with your pools of fir. 95

Returningto the first point of Pound's 'manifesto', I understandthe 'direct treatment of a thing' to reflect the desireto recreatea concreteimage, an idea which both

Hemingwayand Imagismshare. In both cases,there is no obscurity or abstractionand the image is both striking and singular, allowed to standalone without the influence of competingideas. 96 It is expressedin plain language,without simile or overt symbolismand both exist initially as a descriptionof the very object they describe ratherthan being displacedby becomingsymbols for anotherphenomenon. The sea, like the mules, are literal before they become symbolic. This represents Hemingway's intention to capture concrete experience. In the following quotation Hemingway was referring to his The OldMan and Me Sea, but his suspicion of can be equally applied to the stories written much earlier in In Our Time:

There isn't any symbolysm [sic]. The sea is the sea. The old man is

The boy is boy fish is fish. [ ] What an old man. a and the a ... goes

beyondis what you seebeyond when you know.97

'5 Jones,p. 3 1. 96Raymond Carver makes great useof the single striking object as a featureof his work, and its interpretationis often a guide to the meaningof the story in which it appears. 9' Quotedin Phillips, p. 4. 101

In light of this, how are we to explain the symbolic function of the cat in 'Cat in the

Rain', or the swampin 'Big Two-HeartedRiver'? An insight is offered by

Hemingwayduring the short exchangebetween Nick Adams and his friend Bill in

'Three Day Blow' regardingwhat they havebeen reading:

'It's a swell book. What I couldn't ever understandwas what

good the sword would do. It would haveto stay edgeup all the time

becauseif it went over flat you could roll right over it and it

wouldn't makeany trouble.'

'It's a symbol,' Bill said.

'Sure," said Nick, 'but it isn9tpractical. ' (61-62)

The implication is that a successfulsymbol should be fundamentally'practical', that

is, its representationin the narrative is consistentwith its function and presentationin

externalreality. This is what is meantby 'The seais the sea' and 'The old man is an

old man. In the exampleabove, the sword is unsuitableas a symbol becauseit is

inconsistentwith its useas a real object: in the real world, it would roll over flat.and

its edgewould no longer act as a barrier. Here,the 'sword' is not a sword, because

their ontologiesare different; the symbolic sword doesnot behavelike a real sword

becauseit only hasa symbolic function. The symbolic function usurpsand replacesits

primary function as a practical object; it becomesnot a literal sword but the symbol of

a sword. This underminesthe concretepower of the literal imagist object, becausein

the examplesabove, one would not be looking at a mule but the symbol of a mule, not 102 the seabut its symbolic representation.Hemingway's suggestivelanguage, then, is predicatedon a plausibleobject, which possessesmeaning in conjunctionwithin a wider framework of suggestive language.

The secondpart of the Imagist manifestowas that the poet useno word that doesnot contributetowards presentation. This is analogousto describingHemingway's pared down minimalist style. In the following examplefrom 'Big Two-HeartedRiver', we find Hemingway's languageexhibits a tendencysimultaneously to treat the object directly and to conveyan impressionof its suggestiveness:

As the shadowof the kingfisher moved up the stream,a big trout

shot upstreamin a long angle, only his shadowmarking the angle,

then lost his shadowas he camethrough the surfaceof the water,

caughtthe sun, and then, as he went back into the streamunder

the surface,his shadowseemed to float down the streamwith

the current,unresisting, to his post underthe bridge where he

tightenedfacing up into the current.

Nick*s hearttightened as the trout moved. He felt all the old

feeling. (143-144)

At one level, the passageshows a meticulously accuratedescription of external reality. Yet it also constitutesa metaphorof Nick's psychic state.The trout developsa 103 shadowas a result of its 'shot' upstream,whereupon its shadowis lost as it cornesto the surfaceof the water. As the passagecontinues, the shadowdisplaces the trout as the focus of the descriptionuntil finally, it waits under the bridge, 'facing up' to the current of the water. Severalelements are symbolic. The water, which Nick like the trout must face, is symbolic of the cleansingand restorativeprocess that he must undertakein order to heal himself of his mental distress;its symbolic value is a product of its oppositionto the swamp.The Kingfisher, a predator,waits and observes the sceneand there is an ever-presentdanger of which the trout, unlike Nick, is unawareof, the trout/kingfisher relationshipinforms Nick's dilemma, that he must face the swampto find redemptiveclear waters.That the water also carriesa 'current' is evocativeof the difficulty sucha processentails, for suchcurrents are difficult to overcome.It is no coincidencethat the sourceof his pain is expressedlater in the story as swampland,a more thoroughly viscousmanifestation of the 'current' found in this example.Nick has,like the trout he observes,become a 'shadow', a man diminished by his traumaticexperiences. If he is to restorehis mentalhealth, he needs to 'come to the surface' and addressthose problems that haveso far causedhim pain and like the trout begin 'facing up' to the current. The bridge is symbolic of the transition he must make in order to move away from his pain towards mental equilibrium. What is significant here is that the literal sceneretains its realist integrity whilst simultaneouslyappearing a highly sophisticatedsymbolic descriptionof Nick's distress,because of an internal logic of associations,meaning little alone,but highly suggestivein combination.This complicatesthe readingprocess, demanding that connectionsbetween seemingly disparate elements are key in interpretingthe narrative. 104

In the third principle of Imagism,rhythm is considered.The short sentence,like the poetic line, providesthe opportunity to createassociations between several lines. This operatesby underminingthe syntagmaticfunction of the work. Here,the short sentenceprovides a kind of staccatoeffect which isolatesit from thosethat havegone and thosethat are to follow. The shortersentence refuses to exploit the momentumof meaningfrom thosethat havecome before and continually demandsthat the reader pausebefore they move on. As such,the rhythm of the shortersentence asks that the readeridentify eachsentence and pause.As a result, the readeris able to connectit notjust with what hascome before or after - the syntagmaticfunction which operates along the vertical axis of meaning,creating relationshipsbetween disparate ideas - but its relationshipswith the story in its entirety. The notion of looseningthe rhythm of poetry implied by point three was partially realisedin the useof free verse.Indeed, this idea becameprinciple in a later expressionof the Imagist credo, in the prefaceto

SomeImagist Poets(1915):

To [ ] We create new rhythms - as the expression of new moods ...

do not insist upon 'free verse' as the only method for writing poetry.

We fight for it as a principle of liberty. In poetry a new cadence

98 meansa new idea.

Poetry no longer had to incorporatethe traditional metrical patternsand structural conventionsand in doing so, grew closerto proseas a meansof expression.The short

98G. Hughes,Imagism and Imagists:A Study in Modern Poetry (New York: The HumanitiesPress, 1959),p. 39. 105

sentencesof In Our Time createdrhythmic patternsthat could be more aligned to the

rhythms of poetry. Arguably, free verseis not the sole preserveof poetry, rather, its

forms, rhythms and patterningcan be found in Hemingway's prose,which aspiresto the condition of poetry in its highly evocativeseries of relationshipsbetween words. It was createdwith many of the principles of writing verseand, as such,might be read

using a similar strategyto that employedin readingpoetry. 99

Hemingway anticipatesa significant trend in Minimalism by focusing his attentionon the highly suggestiveuse of the everydayobject, or scene.In the majority of stories, the attentivedescriptions of landscapesand environmentsalso serveto represent somethingmore profoundthan might initially be apparent.Although not as common as the exampleof landscape,Hemingway also usesthe everydayobjects as the focus of his suggestivelanguage. In this example,the reader's interpretationof the mental stateof Dr. Adams in 'The Doctor and the Doctor's Wife' restsupon his interaction with a shotgunand its shells:

lie was sitting on his bed now, cleaning a shotgun. He pushed

the magazine full of the heavy yellow shells and pumped them

out again.They were scatteredon the bed. (49)

"1 am awarehere of the fine balancethe readermust make betweena slow and deliberatereading which isolateseach sentence and imagein turn, and a readingwhich takes into accountthe relationshipsbetween each idea whilst readingthem at a conventionalpace. Part of the problem of asking that Hemingway's storiesbe readas poetry is that they might becomedisjointed, and eachline and image held in isolation. However, this could be counteredby the contentionthat Hemingway's elementsof style - repetition,the short sentence,the concreteimage, etc. - work in unison, and their effect is more than the sum of their parts,just as it is with poetry. 106

Initially, this behaviourof Dr. Adams might seemincidental, trivial even.This seeminglytrivial, or evencoincidental, introduction of fine detail is part of the reason why minimalism is so demanding:what the readernominally takesas 'colouring' is actually an integral part of the story's narrative.Technically, following Seymour

Chatman'sdiscussion, we might considerthis processas transformingnarrative

6satellites'(solely descriptivematerial that doesnot inform the plot) into 'kernels'

(vital elementsof the narrative).What was before incidentalnow must be carefully considered.Thwarting the reader'sexpectations would becomea premiseof Carver and Barthelme,especially in their subversionof the resolutoryending.

We are confrontedwith the questionof why, given the very short spacedevoted to the

narrative,we shouldwitness Dr. Adams in sucha seeminglyinsignificant, everyday

activity. This questionsoon suggests several answers. In one reading,it might be

suggestedthat Dr. Adams cannotface the humiliation following his confrontation

with Dick in the wood and so deniesit by taking up a seeminglycomforting,

undemandingpastime. But the tools of this ritual are themselvessignificant and

through them the readermight begin to understandthe effect the humiliation has upon

Dr. Adams. The shotgunis symbolic of control and of great potential devastation,

either for anotheror for oneself(the latter echoingthe suicide he haspreviously seen).

However,the weaponhas been emptied of the shells,rendering it ineffective. Those

yellow shells,their colour resonantof his perceivedcowardice, lay inert on the bed,

unused.He has lost power and as a result control. Nowhere are we told as such 100 directly, or doesthe readerfeel it as strongly.

" For an analysisof the everydayobject as a corollary to experience,see May (2002),pp. 62-83. 107

Suggestive Language and Polyvalency One might considerthe tensioncreated between the declarativeand suggestive functions of Hemingway'sminimalist style as an expressionof his desireto createa style that was an authenticrealisation of experienceyet at the sametime highly symbolic and emotive and thereforememorable and lasting.Historically, this places

Hemingwayand In Our Time at a complex intersectionof conventionalrealism and 101 modernism. An importantaspect of Hemingway's useof suggestivelanguage is the demandsit makesupon the readerswho must interpret its intricaciesand sophistication.Readers have to work harderif they are to make senseof a Hemingway narrative,because the relationshipthat createssignificance is not stateddirectly but are merely suggestedby the text. Also, the significant interpretativeevents within the narrativeare ostensiblytrivial, as we have seenin the examplefrom 'The Doctor and the Doctor's Wife'.

Even the shortest example, comparable to Pound's Haiku, is deeply suggestive.

Employing some of the ideas above, it is a useful reminder of how a single line - both in isolation and in comparison with a longer passage- yields a potential for a rich response. It is from 'Chapter V':

All the shuttersof the hospital were nailed shut. (69)

101M. Stewartuses this criteria to define Hemingwayas a modernistin M. Stewart.Modernism and Tradition in ErnestHeminpvay's In Our Time (Suffolk: CamdenHouse, 2001). 108

There are no metaphors,similes, extravagant words, or other immediately recognisablefigurative tropeshere. Yet despitetheir absence,the readeris still able to interpretthe sentenceas expressingmore than a direct literal statementupon the status of the windows of the hospital.In the first instance,the readermight sense connotationsthat are basedupon the choice of words. This choice is suggestedby repeatingthe word 'shut' in 'shutters'. As a result, the readermight interpretthe

'shutters' as a metonymicreduction of the hospital, which in turn is a sourceof health and the potentialto savelives. Having been 'nailed shut', an imageevocative of the coffin, the hospital can no longer fulfil its healing function. The languageis suggestivebecause it createsconnections in the absenceof metaphorand simile, and the vehicle for that connectionis repetition.

Secondly, the image is suggestive because of a wider, thematic reading in its connectionwith themesfound throughout In Our Time. That the ministers were killed againsta hospital wall is a visual echo of the image of Nick lying injured againstthe wall of the church in the next interchapter,Chapter V1. The irony of the circumstanceof the characters,dead and injured and their location, the hospital and church, is suggestiveof an overall tone of ironic pessimismthat pervadesthe collection. In Our Time provides continuity in the characterisationof Nick Adams, and this permits the readerto make an ongoing connectionbetween the eventsin

Nick's life. 109

So, his laying injured againstthe wall might have beenthe experiencethat so markedly distressesNick, which is the causeof his anguishthat occupiesthe focal 102 point of the later story, 'Big Two-Hearted River'.

102Even equivocaltexts can provide an illusion of freedomof interpretationwhilst actually clearly control the responseof the reader.TIhis is precisely the casein In Our Time.The complexity of Hemingway's figurative languagegives the impressionthat the readeris creatingmeaning for themselves.But, becausethe suggestivelanguage is actually highly controlled and tautly structured, and appearswithin the compositionalframework of chaptersand interchapters,the reader's interpretationis largely directed.The 'clues' that Hemingwayprovides to fill the gapsleft by equivocationmean that if the readerfollows them, then they will be aligning themselveswith Hemingway's intention. Hemingway,more than either Carveror Barthelme,directs his reader's interpretationin this way. Just as we have seenthat Hemingway's intention to createan absentnarrator is ultimately illusory (becausebe the very processof choosingwhat to narratethey privilege some ideasover others),so is the idea that a highly-wrought suggestivelanguage is truly freely open to interpretation. 110

Part Three: Omission in Hemingivay's Short Story Endings

The short story ending has the most tangible potential for resolving narrative problems raised by the text. The refusal for them to do so remains one of his most significant expressions of equivocation. Iser notes such potential, and uses an example drawn from the serialised novels of Charles Dickens to show how the 'dramatic interruption' which occurs just as the story appears to be resolved, to demonstrate how omission might encourage the reader to respond:

In view of the temporarywithholding of information, the suggestive

effect producedby details will increase,thus againstimulating

a welter of possiblesolutions. Sucha techniquearouses definite

expectationsthat, if the novel is to haveany real value, must never 103 be completely fulfilled.

The serialised work defersthe reader'sgratification, creatingsuspense in order that the readerreturn to discoverhow the narrative is resolvedin the next instalment. omission in Hemingwayoperates differently from suchserialisation in that the narrative problemsraised by omissionare never completelyresolved. What Iser calls the 'temporary withholding of information' becomesindefinite, and only through the accretionof narrativeclues can the readerassemble evidence that will revealpotential conclusions,which are neverfully verified by the text.

"-' Iser (1989), p. II In the following section, I want to explore the use of omission in In Our Time.

Omission is the extension of minimalism's tendency to pare down, but here the reduction continues until disappearance.As such, it is an extreme example of

Hemingway's ambition to undermine the classic realist position of providing motive and significance. The reader must replace the missing narrative element, be it motive, identity, a resolutory act, etc, with an interpretation garnered from a literature that provides the barest of evidence through its suggestive language, told by a narrator largely absent and so with little or not intention to verify his or her reading.

The consequenceof suchequivocation is the encouragementof an active reader response.Iser makessuch a claim quite clear. In the seminalessay 'Indeterminacy and

Responsein ProseFiction' he '[ ] it be the Reader's states: ... can said that indeterminacyis the fundamentalprecondition for readerparticipation'. ' 04 If this is the case,then a rise in interpretativeindeterminacy will seea consequentrise in reader distinction between:J ]a lays participation.Iser makesthe ... text that things out in he [ I' before the reader sucha way that can either acceptor reject thern ... and a text ' 05 that one that remainsindeterminate. It is in the latter examplethat the readeris encouragedto more actively participatein the creationof meaningin a text. It is my task in this final section,therefore, to demonstratethrough a readingof In Our Time how omissionestablishes an aestheticof equivocationand in doing so, encouragesan active participation by the reader.

Iser (1989), p. 10. Iser (1989), p. 10. 112

Hemingway first expressedhis 'new' theory of omissionthrough the now famous metaphorof the icebergin Death in the Afternoon.106 But before I begin a definition, I would like to say what omission is not. To begin with, the omission is not that made by textual excisionsas a result of manuscriptrevision. Suchexcisions come in the form of actual deletedpassages that are not incorporatedinto the final version because the authorthought them unsuitable.That we might usethese to discoverhidden depths,or interpretativesignificance, is not the subjectof this study, and has been ' 07 well coveredelsewhere. As Hemingway's theory was a deliberatestrategy, I am only interestedin intentional omission.We might becomeaware during our reading that in 'A Big Two-HeartedRiver', for example,that the causeof Nick Adam's distresshas not beenstated directly despite it being a significant elementin the processof interpretingthe narrative.

All elsebeing equal,could we reasonablyargue that this was left out by accident?It seemsunlikely, given the care that Hemingwaytakes in sustainingequivocation by not directly mentioningthe war and by the 'traces' he leavesto direct our readingin that direction. Moreover,in the caseof '', he makesexplicit the notion that one could ponderover the suicide's motives by having Nick voice them. And if it

'0' Phillips, p. 77. "' Severalscholars of Hemingway,most notably SusanF. Beegel in her study Ilemingni-ay'sCi-afl of omission, look to the manuscriptsto questionthe effects of excluding such passages.It may be the case that such internal omissionsare the result of Hemingway's actual manuscriptrevisions. Perhaps in a former version he clearly expressedthe causeof Nick's distress,the husband'smotive and the identity of the cat. For example,we know that Hemingway wrote a more substantialand informative endingto 'A Big Two HeartedRiver' which, upon the advice F. Scott Fitzgerald,he then cut from the final version (this excisedsection was later publishedin the Nick AdamsSlories and can be found in Fenton (1995), p. 625 entitled ''). This ending goessome way in suggestingreasons for the cause of Nick's anguishand possibleways of overcomingit. But the fact that it was not included in the final publishedstory as we find it, makesit externalto the text and as such, impossibleto predict if we are only going to look at the story before us. 113 was not left out by accident,and assumingthat such an importantelement would not be left out in error, it follows that it was deliberate.The readeris left wondering at the motive of the husband'ssuicide in 'An Indian Camp', or the identity of the cat in 'Cat in the Rain' becauseboth are deliberatelyomitted from the text.

The kind of omissionsthat can be 'found' throughoutIn Our Time in the handful of storieswhich I shall analyse,omit a centralelement in the narrative,the presenceof which is implied by that narrative.In the introduction, I alludedto the work of

SeymourChatman and his theory of narrative 'kernels' as being an essentialelement in a narrative,without which it would be a necessarilydifferent narrative.In light of this, I arguethat Hemingwayomits narrativekernels. He points us towardstheir non- existence through implication: the reader interprets the story as missing a vital 'clue' that would help resolvetextual ambiguity. It is as if the readerunderstands that certain key problemsraised by the text could be resolvedif the writer would only include some'clue', or direction as to how they might be interpreted.The reader,instead of dismissingthe literatureas a nonsensewhich cannotbe resolved,finds that there are certain gaps- narrativekernels omitted - that would help resolvethe narrativeshould they be found. This is achievedeither by drawing the reader'sattention to them without explicit statement;or becausean expectationis arousedin the readerwhich is unfulfilled by the text. By omitting narrativekernels Hemingway sought to create interpretativeequivocation in his stories.The readerdoes not haveenough information to resolvethe competinginterpretations created by omission.His story

'Cat in the Rain' is a supremeexample of this technique. 114

Omissionin 'Cat in the Rain' 'Cat in the Rain' creates interpretative equivocation by deliberately omitting the identity of a central element and fills the 'gap' left by its omission with a flexible symbol that is highly suggestive. In this story, 'the American wife' (who remains nameless) notices a cat caught in the rain and is determined to rescue it. When the cat has disappeared, she is disappointed and tells the maid that she 'wanted a kitty'. At the story's end, the maid reappears, holding a 'big tortoise-shell' cat, under instruction from the padrone to give it to the American wife. Offering the cat provides one type of conclusion: she wanted a cat and has been given one. But as readers we might feel this conclusion unsatisfactory. This arises becausewe are unsure whether the cat given to her is the one sheoriginally wantedto rescue.By extendingthe symbolic function of the cat, it might be consideredthat the cat representsin this context her desirefor happinessin spite of current dissatisfaction.The narrative,then, is not

'about, the identity of the cat, but about the happinessor otherwiseof the woman.

Less becomesmore through the direct omissionof a pivotal narrativeelement, here, the cat's identity. But the identity of the cat, that is the narrativekernel, hasbeen deliberatelyomitted. 'Cat in the Rain' appearsto possessa plot of resolution(she gets the cat) when in fact it is a plot of revelation (we do not know which one it is).

Hemingwaycreates what appearsto be a traditional realist story - with a chronologicalplot, apparentcause and effect, and an emphasison the material world - and then thwarts the expectationsof the readerby refusingto remain determinate upon a crucial element,and in so doing unsettlesthe reader'sexpectations that the story will be clearly resolved. 115

Had Hemingwaycontinued the story just a momentor two longer,or madethe cat she is given the sameas that which shedesires, he would perhapsoffer answersto the questionsraised by the text. Instead,the text obstinatelyremains unspecific, with even the title avoiding a particular; it is simply 'Cat in the Rain'. The use of a variety of different stylistic elements- the absenceof figurative language;'realistic' useof narrativetime; a seeminglydenotative, 'uncommitted' style; the third-personabsent narratorand the malleablenarrative perspective - all convergeto removethe potential for the narrativeto explain itself. As such,the story is a determinedattempt at 108 equivocationthrough omission.

Suchomission stimulates symbolic polyvalency;the identity of the cat is so equivocal,that the readermay provide severalreadings of its symbolic value. It may, for example,be a symbol for the kind of comfortablebourgeois security that the wife desires.These desires are explicitly statedlater in the story; for longer hair, for silver on her dining table, desiresto which her husbandappears indifferent. The cat may evenrepresent a displaceddesire for a child. The whole of Hemingway'senterprise as describedin this chapter,from the role of elementssuch as the objective, non- judgementalnarrator, to the suggestivepower of his connotativelanguage, through to his theory of omissionare presentin this example.

108For a study of indeterminacyin another,although very different 'minimalist' writer, Samuel Beckett, seeM. Perloff Poetics oflndeterminacy.- Rimbaudto Cage(Illinois: NorthwesternUP, 1999). 116

The result is one of obstinateequivocation, leaving the readerunable to clearly resolvethe meaning,given the variety of competingsuggestive, interpretative choices.109

As with 'Cat in the Rain', many stories use omission at their end, reflecting the modern short story's unwillingness to be resolved, and more particularly anticipates

Carver's interest in the thwarted epiphanic ending. The end of a short story provides the opportunity to answer any questions raised by the narrative and to help clarify any ambiguity. Conversely, it can also been seen as an opportunity to equivocate strongly.

Indeed, we might say that it is because we expect the narrative to be resolved that makes possible its equivocation and Hemingway subverts what had become typical reading patterns to encourage active reader interpretation.

One modernist theory of the open, unresolved story ending is that it more accurately reflects reality. Traditionally, the short story neatly collected the narrative problems at its end and resolved them. In this model, the implication is that our lives are neatly divided into sections for which there are a discrete, identifiable significance. Writers of the early 20th century began to question this and one notable example is Katherine

Mansfield, whose 'slight' narratives (by which I mean that they often had circumscribed plots, or focused upon seemingly minor ) were defiantly inconclusive and established new directions in short story narratives. For writers like

`9 Scholarsare not exemptfrom interpretativeequivocation and as readersthey, too, provide a variety of sometimesincompatible interpretations. Carlos Baker claims there is only one cat, and so there is no questionof its identity: '[The cat] is finally sentup to her by the kindly old inn-kceper'.John V. Hagopian(quoted in Furst,pp. 148)disagrees: 'it is not clear whetherthis is the samecat as the one the wife had seenfrom the window - probably not'. In the absenceof its identity, it becomessymbolic: [The cat] is an obvious symbol for a child'. David Lodge is critical of the methodologythat Hagopian's interpretationpresupposes. On the questionof the cat as a symbol, he claims: 'it would be a mistake, look for [ ] 'Cat in Rain'. See therefore,to a single clue ... to the meaningof the Furst,pp. 148-153. 117

Mansfield, the boundariesof thoseapparent sections dissipate to leavesomething more like a process,where endingsand beginningsmerely dissolveinto one another.

Suchan idea underpinsJames Joyce's useof the 'streamof consciousness'technique, and especially that of Molly Bloom's soliloquy in , where process was as important as result.

If the writer's ambition is to begin to express reality, then he or she must reflect this in the structureof their work. Perhapsthe most significant was the rejection of a closed ending and its replacementwith an unfinished, incompleteand ambiguousstory ending.' 10However, some critics have gone further and suggestthat the openending reflects notjust any reality, but more specifically the reality of the 20'hcentury. In

Hemingway's case,the open, incompletestory was a reflection of isolation, disillusionmentand on-going struggle.This was a seriesof attributesthat go towards a definition of the modern literary situation following the destructionof the First

World War and its subsequentdiasporas. In this sense,Hemingway was a spokesman for what hasbecome known as the 'Lost Generation',a term coined by GertrudeStein to refer to a group of Americansin Europe,at the end of the First World War but more generallyapplied to a group of writers and artists,disillusioned by the senselessnessof the Great War and hostile to the moralsand moresof Victorians.

So completewas the ambiguity, and so incongruouswas the readingexperience with the seeminglystraightforward, declarative style, that Hemingwayconfounded many of his earliestcritics by employing the open, incompletestory ending in In Our

For an analysisof this aspect,see H. E. BatesThe Afodern Short Slory (London: Methuen, 1941). 118

' 11 Time. None of the storiesprinted in this collection offer a closedending, the kind of which we find in such 'traditional' storiesas 'The Lady of the Tiger' by Frank

Stockton,'The Gift of the Magi' by 0. Henry or'The Necklace' by Guy de 112 Maupassant. Thesestories with their dependenceon the 'shock' of the ddnouement that closesthem are extremeexamples but illustrate the tendencyto resolvea story clearly. 'Gift of Magi' for example,tells the story of a young man called Jim who sells his pocketwatch to buy hair combsfor his partnerDella. More or less simultaneously,she sells her hair to buy a chain for his watch. This extract follows shortly after Jim hasseen his combsuseless, as Della as cut her hair:

Jim had not yet seenhis beautiful present.She held it out to him

eagerlyupon her open palm. The dull preciousmetal seemedto flash

with a reflection of her bright and ardentspirit. [ I ... "Dell, " said he, "let's put our Christmaspresents away and keep 'em

awhile. They're too nice to usejust at present.I sold the watch to get

the moneyto buy your combs.And now supposeyou put the

chopson. "' 13

111Carlos Baker providesan exchangewhich clarifies how eventhe most seeminglyperspicacious critics may have missedthe point: 'During one of the colloquiesof DeanGauss, [F. Scott] Fitzgerald, and Hemingway in the summerof 1925,'Big Two HeartedRiver' cameup for consideration. Half in fun, half in seriousness,they now accusedhim of 'having written a story in which nothing happened',with the result that it was 'lacking in human interest'. Hemingway,Dean Gauss continued, 'counteredby insisting that we werejust ordinary book reviewersand hadn't eventaken the trouble to find out what he had beentrying to do'. SeeBaker, pp. 45-47. "2 Hemingwayhad abandonedthe ironic coincidencesthat closedmany of his juvenile short storiesin in air Time, found in suchjuvenilia as 'Judgmentof Manitou' and 'Sepi Jingan'. "' 0. Henry The I Vorld ofO. Ilenry.- TheFurnished Roomand Other Stories(London: Hodderand Stoughton,1973), p. 30. 119

The story endsafter a brief commentaryby the narrator in which he praisesthe notion, put simply, that it is the 'thought that counts' when offering gifts. Their life goeson but the episodeis finished and it has beengiven an interpretativeclosure, rather like a musical coda.Let us turn back now to the endingof the first part of 'A

Big Two-HeartedRiver':

Out through the front of the tent he watchedthe glow of the fire,

when the night wind blew on it. It was a quiet night. The swamp

was perfectly quiet. Nick stretchedunder the blanket comfortably.

A mosquitohummed close to his ear. Nick sat up and lit a match.

The mosquitowas on the canvas,over his head.Nick movedthe match

quickly up to it. The mosquitomade a satisfactoryhiss in the flame.

The matchwent out. Nick lay down again underthe blanket.He turned

on his side and shut his eyes.He was sleepy.fie felt sleepcoming. He

curled up underthe blanket and went to sleep.(150)

This is a sophisticated mix of what we might call a satisfactory and unsatisfactory ending. This is a satisfactory ending because it provides a readily recognisable point of thematic and linguistic closure. We have seen previously how repetition operates in

Hemingway's short fiction. Here, in repeating the word 'sleep' and its derivatives, emphasises its importance. Hemingway is using repetition as a device for insistence, or emphasis, following Stein. Patterns of repetition have the effect of creating expectation in the reader. At the end of this story, the effect is ambivalent. On the one hand, the repetition creates a rhythm that we expect to continue, but which is abruptly cut off with the very word that is repeated. The story ends in spite of our expectations; the rhythm is cut short, the conflict unresolved. But by using repetition to create 120 expectation,the story's end suggeststhat Nick's processof coming to ten-nswith his problemsis unfinishedfor him if not for us.

If our minds are poisedin anticipation,then so is the story. Our readingof the final paragraphof short,simple sentences,which createa rhythm culminating in the chant of 'sleep', createsa linguistic echo of the end of the story. Nick's story is unfinished in the literal sensethat this is the end of the first part of a two-part story. Further,the repetition of 'sleep' resonateswith Nick's repeated,ritualistic behaviourfound elsewherein the story. In the careful, measuredand precisedescriptions of Nick trekking through the woods,making his camp or eating,the mantraof 'sleep' reminds us of the harmonyNick shareswith the natural world. Sleep,like deathor the return of somethinglost, are traditional signpostsof the end of a short story. Nick's untroubledfalling to sleepprompts us to recognisethat this chapter,at least,is closed, if not the story complete.

The ways in which this story does not adhere to the conventional structuring of the short story is illustrative here. In a simplistic model of conventional short story structures, the initial exposition gives way to a conflict that is finally resolved, whereupon the denouement makes clear exactly how that resolution might be interpreted. 114In the example of, 'The Gift of the Magi' the narrative is resolved when each learns of their actions, and the narrative problems created are thus

114For a sophisticatedapproach to the short story ending and structuresee Chapter Five, 'Getting out of the Short Story' in S. Lohafer (1983) 121 resolved.However, Hemingway's storiesreject the conflict/resolutionmodel because either the conflict is unclear,the resolutionunsatisfactory, or both.

The absenceof charactermotive underminesthe reader'sability to readily distinguish exactly where the conflict exists.In 'A Big Two-flearted River' the readeris uncertainas to exactly why Nick finds himself in the woods,other than he feels an anxiety which his surroundingsseem to placate.With a further reading- and based upon an interpretationwhich is never completelyverified by the absentnarrator- the readermight interpretthe conflict as such:Nick Adams must encounterand overcome thosepsychological scars left by his experiencesin the war. But the groundsfor conflict are unclear:the war is never mentioned.However, the evidenceis not to be found in the story, but in a previousinterchapter. In the precedinginterchapter,

'Chapter Vl' ('Nick sat againstthe wall'), the vignettetells of an injury suffered during a battle. The following vignette, 'Chapter V11', may provide somecontinuity.

Again, a soldier hasbeen injured and pleadswith God to savehis life. The story that follows, 'Soldier's Home', tells of Krebs, who finds the readjustmentto life after

WWI difficult. CarlosBaker suggestspersuasively that this is Nick Adams in all but ' 15 name. The connectionfor the reader,however, is underminedby omission- here, as in 'Cat in the Rain' - by the clear stating of identity. The readeris left to assume, not resolve,the connectionbetween the interchaptersand the main stories.

But how is that conflict expressedin the story? What is it that Nick must overcome?

Hemingwaytransforms the sourceof Nick's anxiety into a symbol, once again

"s Baker, pp. 107-108. 122 removedfrom its literal meaning.The memory of the war is expressedas a swamp, and the conflict is betweenclear flowing water and the swamp.If the river represents somethinglike the familiar, former life, of redemption,clarity and replenishment,then the swampis somethingother, a dark, strangeplace which representsin its murky, dangerouswaters the hitherto unexploredregions of Nick's damagedpsyche. By literally moving through the swamp,Nick can overcomehis fears,but as the story ends,only the possibility of navigatingthem remains.By expressingthe conflict in symbolsthat cannotpossess motivation - the clear water, the swamp- Hemingway's ambition hasbeen find a sophisticatedstructure for humananxiety that undermines conventionalpatterns of short story telling. The minimalist ambition towards reductioncan be equally found in the omissionof vital componentsof conventional short story structuringas it can be in its paring down of stylistic elements.

Omissionand Equivocation In the examplesabove, I havedemonstrated the centralaim of omission,i. e. to resik closureand refute the conventionof resolving conflict. But omissionis not peculiar to

Hemingway,nor to minimalist writing. KatherineMansfield did not write in a recognisablyminimalist style but in somestories omission was a central part of her methodology.The longer short story, 'Prelude' containsa seriesof omissions,whose qualities and characteristicscan be comparedwith that of Hemingway's.The central omissionin 'Prelude' is an explicit statementthat Stanleyand Beryl are having an affair. It is an omissionbecause its existenceis implied throughoutthe narrativeby suggestiveclues, which presentthe readerwith a seriesof questionsthe text fails to resolve.An early introductionto the notion that Stanleyand Beryl might have a more intimate relationshipthan is explicitly statedoccurs when the family sits down to eat 123 following their recenthouse move. Stanley,Linda's husbandand Beryl, her sister, eat togetherwhile Linda sits aloneby the fire. When askedby Stanleyif shewill join them shereplies: ' "The very thought of it is enough." Sheraised one eyebrowin the way shehad'. ' 16At this stageit is far from apparentthat her lack of appetitemeans anything more than Linda's evident isolation. The 'it' that shecannot bare to think about is potentially ambivalent:it may refer to the food, in which caseshe has no appetite;or it may expressher knowledgeof her isolation in the face of a growing intimate relationshipbetween them, the thought of which is understandably distressing.Moreover, by raising her eyebrowshe is performinga gesturethat is traditionally representativeof suspicion.

The key difference is the role it plays in the strategy of the author. In Hemingway's

'Big Two-Hearted River', the omission is not 'known' to Nick becausehe is a character in the story. Although the idea of omission is analogous to his feelings about what has happened to him, the omission is from the structure of the narrative, the excision of one of the central elements in the plot. In Mansfield's omission, it is known by the characters.

It points to a flaw in their character,as a product of a moral ambivalenceand uncertaintyabout self-identity.One part of the ambivalenceis often left unsaid,and affects relationshipseven though it is not explicitly stateduntil quite late in the story.

Linda considersthe 'hatred' which she feels for Stanley,'just as real as the rest' of her feelings: 'She could havedone her feelingsup in little packetsand given them to

"' D. Davin (ed.) Katherine Mansfield: SelectedStories (New York: Oxford UP, 1981),p. 46 124

117 Stanley'. Similarly, Beryl understands that she is ambivalent in her behaviour with men, by referring to her 'false' self-

She even kept [playing the guitar] up for Stanley's benefit. Only

last night when he was reading the paper her false self had stood

beside him and leaned against his shoulder on purpose. Hadn't

she put her hand over his, pointing out something so that she could

see how white her hand was over his brown one.

How despicable! Despicable! ' 18

What is omitted here is a stateof affairs createdby flaws in characters.Its denouementis explicit and complete:we finally know aboutthe natureof the omissionbecause the narrativetells us explicitly. In both respects,this differs from the omissionemployed by Hemingway.Here, the omissionis part of the sequenceof importantnarrative elements which are never resolvedby explicit confirmation.

In the case of 'Cat in the Rain', the interpretative gap can never be closed, unlike 'Big

Two-HeartedRiver' in which our understandingof the Nick's personalhistory and the 'clues* implied by the text help fill the omission:

He he [ ] He could not rememberwhich way madecoffee. ... rememberednow that this was Hopkins' way. He had onceargued

117Davin, p. 77. 118Davin, p. 8 1. 125

Hopkins. [ ] They had Hopkins about everythingwith ... never saw again. That was a long time ago on the Black River. (149-150)

That these stories are fragments of experience is evident in the irresolution. But it is also in evidencefrom their antecedents.Causality is omitted in 'An Indian Camp',

'Soldier's Home' and 'A Big Two-flearted River'. In 'Indian Camp', the motive for the suicide of the husbandof the woman in labour is uncertain.We know that the war actsas a determiningfactor in 'Soldier's Home', but we are led to believethat something more specific has happened to Krebs to cause the apparent hostile behaviour.Finally, we are more certain that war is the causeof Nick Adams' distress in 'A Big Two-HeartedRiver'. The burnt town of Seneyand the personaltragedy resonantin the remembrancesof his lost friend Hopkins all point towardsthe war as a significant cause for Nick's trauma. However, as in 'Indian Camp', a clear senseof causation is deliberately omitted. The young Nick Adams makes explicit the implied reader's questioning of his motive:

'Why did he kill himself, DaddyT

'I don't know, Nick. He couldn't standthings, I guess.' (44)

The father's ambivalenceis intriguing, ratherthan conclusion,although the notion that life is unendurablemight certainly haveresonance for the young Nick. Yet the questionof motive remains,even if shifted why he could not standthings, and is one to which Hemingway is careful to not to give any straightforwardanswers. We are askedto interrogatethe narrativeto find evidenceof why the man might havekilled 126 himself. As we presumehis motive might have beenformed beforethe narrative begins,we are only left with the 'traces' of his intent as they appearwithin the text.

One 'trace' is that the husbandmight have beenshamed by his injury, or he feels uselessby it, or through somelink to the birth of the child. Hemingwayinvites the readerto invert the normal processof interpretationby investigatingnot what comes after the story but what comesbefore. He doesthis by drawing our attentionto the causeof the centralcharacter's predicament. His narrativesbeg the questionof why thesecharacters behave the way they do, what hashappened and how did they end up like this? Presentedwith the effects of their behaviour,the implied readeris encouragedto find a central determiningfactor. In doing so, Hemingwayprovides a compelling reasonfor the readerto actively participatein the text by interrogatingnot only what comesafter, but what might havecome before.

Hemingway's theory of omission demonstrates the emergent minimalist aesthetic at the core of his writing. It is a crystallisation of the minimalist aesthetic to pare down and to affect by suggestion without explicit commentary. It is, therefore, the most prominent example of how In Our Time invites the reader to respond in a way qualitatively different from the conventional short story. In minimalist omission that which is unwritten assumesa central part in the narrative. 127

CHAPTER TWO

Minimalism and Literary History:

Bridging the Gap from Hemingway to Carver

This chaptershifts its focus towardsa discussionof the placeof minimalist works within literary history. By doing so, I hopeto suggestanswers to many of the questionsasked at the beginningof this thesis, including: 'where doesminimalism come fromT, and 'what is its relationshipwith realism?'; and suggestways in which the minimalist approachmight be valued within literary history in generaland specifically within American letters.

This chapter is divided into three parts. The first part addressesHemingway"s place within literary history by suggestinghow In Our Time is both traditional and modernist;and through a discussionof its relationshipto literary realism.The second part attemptsto suggestwhat happenedto minimalism during the fifty one years betweenthe publication of In Our Time in 1925and RaymondCarver's Will You

PleaseBe Quiet, Please?in 1976.Finally, it endsby contextualisingCarver's work, and by introducing Will YouPlease Be Quiet, Please? 128

Part One: Modernism and Tradition in In Our Tinte One of the importantquestions about minimalist writing is 'where doesminimalism come fromT I hopeto havesuggested some answers to thosequestions in the opening sectionof ChapterOne, regardingthe influencesofjournal ism, literary figures and biography upon Hemingway'sminimalist writing. Now, I will considerhow In Our

Time might be contcxtualiscdwithin literary history, and more specifically, as a product of both modernismand tradition.

This contextuali sation is difficult, and answeringwhere minimalism comesfrom is no small matter.It has implicationsfor how minimalism is read,and it might be consideredanother way in which minimalism remainscomplex, because it is more difficult to pin down what kind of writing it is. I suggest that tile difficulty in classifying In Our Time within. a literary-historical period undermines the effilciency of the interpretative process and so helps undermine the certainty with which its interpretations might be resolved. This difficulty I see as partially the result of In Our ' Time's relationshipbetween tradition and modernism.

GertrudeStcin surnmarisedthe dual tendencyin Hemingway'swork to be both modem and traditional with her remark that: 'Hemingway looks I ike a modem but he 2 smellsof the museums'. At onceassimilating and rejecting the traditions of the past, in sometimesextremely sophisticated ways, In Our Time resistsa fixed label.

Hemingway's contemporaryreviews cite severalexamples of confusionof the early

'See T. S. Eliot's 'Tradition and the Individual Talent' in SelectedEssa YS (London: Faberand Faber, 1929).He concludedthat the only way to make new art was to possessa detailedsense of tradition. ' Quotedin Stewart,M. Modernismand Tradition in ErnestHemingiray's In Our Time (Suffolk: CamdenHouse, 200 1), p. I U. 129 readerof In Our Time, in which the storieswere criticised for not closing the plot, or for their paucity of characterisation,criticisms which continuetoday. 3

Modernism: Experimentationand the Interchapters Hemingway'sIn Our Time(1925) was publishedduring a high water mark of .Works suchas JamesJoyce's Ulysses(1922), the poetry of Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot (The WasteLand, 1922)and Pirandello'sSix Charactersin Searchof an Author (1921) helpedrevolutionise modem literature.

The short story was irrevocablyaffected by the enormoustransformations that took place,but its identity within literary history was alreadyproblematised by its ambivalentrelationship with its traditions. The ideathat tradition and modernism could co-exist can be demonstratedby the publication of two very different works publishedwithin ten yearsof one another,0' Henry's CabbagesandKings (1904) and Joyce'sDubliners (1914). Cabbagesand Kings retainedmany of the elementsof the traditional short story or tale found in the I 91hcentury, such as the anecdotaltone, linear structurewhich hasstrong emphasis on a resolvedplot and a faith in a cohesive, realist representation.

Conversely,Dubliners demonstrateda more modem aesthetic,which movedtowards a representationof fragmented,personal experience, in which plot was secondaryto mood and which createdsignificance through the careful patterningof detail. This

3 Seesections I and 2 especiallyof J. Meyers (ed.) Hemingway: TheCritical Ileritage. (Boston: Routledge& Kegan Paul, 1982). 130 duality continuedthroughout the twentieth century, albeit transposedto a contemporarymilieu. William Faulkner's highly personalised,mythic realm can be found alongsideHemingway's sparse, naturalistic expression;Eudora Welty's hallucinatory landscape,possessed by unconsciousdreams and desiressits alongside

KatherineAnne Porter's Joyceanexploration of consciousness,dreams and memory;

FlanneryO'Connor's moral parablesof the rural Southare in contrastto John

Cheever'srealistic evocationof modem, urban middle classes.Their affinities with tradition and modernismare not, of course,as clear and faithful as thesebrief comparisonssuggest; but the implication that the influenceof tradition and modernismsimultaneously persists in the short story genreremains persuasive, and informs the notion of how tradition and modernismcould co-existwithin In Our

Time.

In his analysisof the languageof modernistfiction, David Lodge outlines four defining elementsof modemfiction. 'First', he claims, 'it is experimentalor innovative in form, exhibiting markeddeviations from existing modesof discourse.4

One of the most striking and immediateindicators of modernistexperimentation can be found in the useof the interchaptersthat are positionedin betweenthe longer storiesof In Our Time.Their inclusion complicatesan alreadydemanding collection becauseit introducesan elementof discontinuity into the movementfrom one story to another,whilst inviting the readerto makeconnections between the sometimes dissonantinterchapters and the collection as a whole. Paradoxically,this discontinuity is a productof their commonground. The interchaptersof In Our Time often expand the focus of their interestto encompassa more distancedperspective, one which is

' Bradbury, p. 481. 131 lessconcerned with a detailedexamination of specific lives, and functionsmore as context for the longer storiesin-between which they rest.

Hemingwayacknowledged this idea in his letters, in which he claimedthat their

5 positioning was deliberateand carefully calculated:

Finishedthe book of 14 storieswith a chapteron [oq In Our Time

[the vignettesof in our lime] in betweeneach story - that is the way

they were meantto go - to give the picture of the whole between

examining it in detail. Like looking with your eyesat something,say

a passingcoast line, and then looking at it with 15X binoculars.Or

rather,maybe, looking at it and then going in and living it - and then

coming out and looking at it again.6

5 This visual metaphor is expressed several times throughout In Our Time. For example, in a story that was deemed too offensive for inclusion in In Our Tinte and was omitted at the request of the publisher, '':

From Smith's back door Liz could seeore bargesway out in the lake going toward Boyne City. When shelooked at them they didn't seemto be moving at all but if shewent in and dried somemore dishesthen cameout againthey would be out of sight beyondthe point. (6)

Later, a similar idea appearsnear the end of the collection in 'Big Two-HeartedRiver':

He could hardly seethem [the blue hills], faint and far away in the heat- light over the plain. If he looked too steadilythey were gone.But if he only half-looked they were there,the far-off hills in the height of land. (144-145)

6 Quotedin C. Baker (ed.) ErnestHemingway SelectedLetters 1917-1961(Herts: GranadaPublishing, 1981),p 128. 132

This alternatingshift in distancingcan be found throughout.For example,in 'Chapter

VIP, a soldier praysthat he might be savedfrom the bombardment:

While the bombardment was knocking the trench to pieces at Fossalta,

he lay very flat and sweated and prayed oh jesus christ get me out of

here. (85)

The interchapterprovides a more distancedperspective than the storiesthat accompanyit becauseit providesa geographicalcontext of Fossalta,as well as suggestiveof longer chronologicalduration in the idea of bombardmentand stretchingof time from the final 'never told anybody'. It focusesupon one component, the prayers of the terrified solider, who significantly remains nameless: this is one, presumably of many. This movement from the particular to the general can be found in the interchapters. For in 'Chapter W, elsewhere example, , six cabinet ministers are executed by firing squad. They remain nameless and exemplary of a larger movement suggestive of painful death:

There were pools of water in the courtyard.There were wet deadleaves

on the paving of the courtyard.It rained hard. (69)

The rain, like the snow of Joyce's 'The Dead', expandsbeyond the local to suggest somethingof more universalapplication. The subjectof that expansionis death, where the ministers' executionis rekindled by the phrase'wet deadleaves', bonding rain with death,which in turn culminatesin 'It rained hard': death,like the rain, 133 encompassesall in this bitter, savageworld. If the interchapters'give the whole', then the longer storiesfulfil their promiseto '[examine] in detail'. In the caseof 'Chapter

VIP, the short interchapteris followed by 'Soldier's Home', a story aboutthe effects of the war upon an injured solider. Now namedKrebs (and not Nick Adams,who left to fight), we find a comparativelydetailed account of his attemptsto cometo terms with his experiencesin a world which is ostensiblypeaceful, but which is increasingly indifferent to his and othersveterans' experience:

By the time Krebs returnedto his hometown in Oklahomathe

heroes He back late. [ ] greetingof was over. came much too ... There had beena great deal of hysteria.Now the reactionhad set

in. (87)

The story continueswith the difficulties of returningto his family, and deciding upon his future. It is a personalstory, one which speaksof the experiencesof a single man and his own unique situation, in the way that the evacuationof Thrace,the execution of six ministersand the prayersof an unnamedsoldier speakof a more wide-ranging context.

The notion of one text directly informing anotherwithin a single collection aspiresto sophisticationnormally found in the relationshipsbetween chapters in a novel. The storiesare not merely discretefictional objectsto be overcomethrough closed interpretation,but exist within a frameworkof meaning,where meaningin one translatesand is affectedby meaningwithin another.In this way, Hemingwayavoids 134 an interpretativecul-de-sac often found in the short story, the kind of which we find in traditional taleswith their resolvedendings. Moreover, it is the quality of the connectionsbetween each story that leave a trace, rather than an outline; a whisper, ratherthan a shout.In doing so, the relationshipsbetween interchapters and the short storiesare configuredin suchaway that they hint at possibleconnections without making them completelyclear. Once again, it is for the readerto decidehow significant their connectionsare, if at all.

TheInterchapters and the Meditation upon Violence A focus upon a seriesof interchapterswith a sharedtheme provides an illustration of how form createsinterpretative equivocation, and how flemingwayýsminimalism was a reactionto a tradition of violence as sensational,hyperbolic and evendesirable in all its grotesqueness.

The interchaptersshare a thematic interest,a meditationupon violence.This meditationcan be divided into three forms. In the first sectionfrom ChaptersI-VII it focusesupon war and its effects;the second,upon bullfighting, from ChaptersIX to

XIV; and the third, that of violence crime, which can be found in ChaptersVIII and

XV. 7 Violence is expresseddifferently in theseinterchapters.

'Chapter I' doesnot include an actual act of violence,but its focus upon the war and its debilitating effectson the combatantsare propheticof the explicit depiction of

7 'L'Envoi', the final interchapter,is a specialcase, because it suggestsa synthesisof the thematic concernswhich divide the interchapters:war and crime. 135 violent war found in subsequentinterchapters. Champagne takes on a cruel irony when one considersthe historical backgroundto the campaign.8 'Chapter 11'shifts its emphasisto the aftermathof war, but it is not until 'Chapter III' that the violence of war is directly expressed.Chapters '111' and 'IV' sharea similar situation. Both refer to 'potting' and sniping of enemysoldiers, in the first as they cameover the wall and in the secondas they attemptto climb a barricade.The idea of killing a soldier by

Gpotting'him is suggestiveof the mechanicalway in which modemwarfare might dispensewith the enemy,without dignity and heroism,and with terrifying ease.In both casesone soldier follows anotherto their death,as if on a production line.

Almost as shockingis the delight in which the narratoraccepts their fate. For him, their deathcan be welcomedwithout remorsebecause war haspitted them againstone anotheruntil death.The subtleshift from surprisein "Chapter III': 'We shot them.

They all camejust like that'(51) to relish in 'Chapter IV': 'It was an absolutelyperfect obstacle[... ] We were frightfully put out when we heardthe flank had gone,and we had to fall back'(57). Man hasbecome the enemyof man, and his manneredtones reflects the transition: 'frightfully put ouV seemsa particularly strainedand artificial idiom when referring to the obstacleas a trap to kill anotherman, and is more suited to the trapping andkilling of an animal. Moreover,the emphasisremains upon themselves,and all thoughtsfor their fellow man hasvanished: the word 'we' is repeatedseveral times in this short sentence,becoming almost incantatory.War strips humansof their humanity,notjust thoseon the battlefield but the world over. The

First World War brought violent deathto the lives of millions aroundthe world in ways unimaginableat the beginningof the twentieth century,despite the horrors of

8 As E. R. Hagemannpoints out, Champagnewas not the favouredwine, but a battle in which the Frenchsuffered huge numbers of casualtiesduring a frontal assaultof Germanoffences in 1915,in Benson,p. 193. 136

Boer and Crimea wars. Many critics of modernismhave attempted to demonstrate how the mood of optimism following the turn of the century was shattered by the

War, of which Hemingway'sIn Our Timewas specifically emblematic.

What is significanthere is that the origins of the war wereno longerattributed to a supernaturalforce of evil, but that they beganand endedwith man, found herein modem,mechanised warfare. This could be contrastedto the Gothic ideathat men were consumedby an evil which must be overcome.In EdgarAllen Poe'sfiction, I ike many othersof the time, violencewas a productof the evil that permeatedthe universe,a supernaturalforce that led men to unnaturalacts. In a memorablemetaphor, Poe uses the narrator'sobservation of the Houseof Usherto representsuch a source:

I looked upon the scene before me - upon the mere house, and the

simple landscape features of the domain - upon the bleak walls -

upon the vacant eye-like windows - upon a few rank sedges- and

upon a few white trunks of decayed trees - with an utter depression

of the soul which I can compare to no earthly sensation more 9 properly than the after-dream of the reveller upon opium.

ConsideringHemingway's representationof violence in relation to Poe's, the violence of the stories- the swinging blade in 'Pit and the Pendulum',the vengeful murder in

'The Caskof Amontillado' and greatfire of 'Hop-Frog' are expressedwith a

9 D. Galloway (ed.) Edgar Allen Poe: TheFall ofihe Houseof Usherand 01her If'rifings (London: Penguin, 1986),p. 138. 137 hyperbolethat bordersupon sensationalism.Here, the tortured dwarf of 'Hop-Frog' takeshis revengeupon the court by burning it down:

Owing to the high combustibility of both flax and the tar to which it

adhered,the dwarf had scarcelymade an end of his brief speechbefore

the work of vengeancewas complete.The eight corpsesswung in their

chains,a fetid, blackened,hideous and indistinguishablemass. 10

The grotesque spectacle is meant to provide a fitting end to a court that has in turn persecuted the dwarf and his companion and the reader is invited to condone the vengeful act. Hemingway self-consciously moved away from this exaggerated form of expression, noting in his metaphor that: 'Prose is architecture, not interior decoration, " and the Baroque is over'. In other words, fiction which focused upon the horrors of violence were no longer appropriate following the war; sensationalism was obscene:

The kid came out and hid to kill five bulls becauseyou can't have

more than three matadors, and the last bull he was so tired he

couldn't get the sword in. He tried five times and the crowd was quiet

because it made a good bull and it looked like him or the bull and then

he finally made it. He sat down in the sand and puked (99)

'0 Galloway, p. 376. " Hemingway 0 996), p. 168. 138

ThroughoutIn Our Time,death is expressedwith understatement,distance and without hyperboleyet it retainsa clarity andfocus that confrontsits horrors:Dr. Adamsrolls the

Indian over in 'Indian Camp' to find he hasquietly cut his own throat;the soldiersof the interchapters'pot' their enemies;a cabinetminister, sick with typhoid,is shotas he sits. in the exampleabove, the spectacleand glamour of the bullfight is invertedto showhow pathetic,distasteful and savage it canbe. As in the talesof Poe,in In Our Timedeath is everywherebut it is nowherefound to be expressedwith overstatedmelodrama.

Rather,the extremesof violence in In Our Time demonstratehow the minimalist principle towardsunderstatement may have developed.In particular,the high idealsof chivalry, honour and graceupon the battlefield were no longerappropriate following the developmentof mechanisedwarfare, which includedthe first wholesaleuse of poison gasand the armouredtank. Hemingwayrecognised as such in his war novelA

Fareivell IoArnis. Following a faltering conversationwith an ally about losing the war, the narratorFrederick Henry ponderson thosewords which are now uncomfortablyill-suited to his experienceof the war:

I did not say anything.I was always embarrassedby the words sacred,

glorious and sacrificeand the expressionin vain. [... ] Abstract words

suchas glory, honor,courage, or hallow were obscenebeside the concrete

namesof villages, the numbersof roads,the namesof rivers, the numbers

' 2 of regimentsand dates.

12E. HemingwayA Fareivell to Arms (London: Vintage, 1999),p. 165. 139

As thoseideals of glory, honour and couragewere erodedby the experiencesof modernwarfare, they had no currency.The fiction writer neededa new vocabularyin order to expressthe horror of war and the social fragmentationof its aftermath.The reducedvocabulary of the minimalist style was in part developedas a responseto the loss of faith in idealisedconcepts such as honour, courageand glory, following the atrocity of the First World War. What replacedthem were not only the namesof streets,towns and rivers but silence:the narratorbegins by sayingnothing in the exampleabove. The idea of silenceis foregroundedas an importantelement in expressionand becomesnot merely a phenomenonthat appearswhen nothing else does,but an elementwhich can be consciouslyand deliberatelyincluded. Indeed, silence,understatement's logical conclusion,helps inform the definition of the minimalist theory of omission.Throughout In Our Time there are exampleswhere silenceseems the only possiblereaction by its characters;what can be said in the face of suchevents? In 'The End of Something',Nick cannotspeak to Majorie until pressedand eventhen he rernainsinarticulate; in 'The Doctor and the Doctor's Wife',

Dr. Adams can only reactto Dick Boulton's threatswith silence,as he turns and walks home;when the psychologicallyand physically scarredNick Adams finds himself in the forest alone in 'Big Two-HeartedRiver', he finds regenerationin the woods: 'His voice soundedstrange in the darkeningwoods. He did not speakagain. '

(148). Hemingwayechoes the feeling for many of his modernistcontemporaries that an anti-heroictreatment of war was the best idiom for expressingits horrors.Yet hope is not lost and silencedoes not inculcatenothingness. Wing Biddlebumfrom the story

'Hands' from Anderson'sWinesberg, Ohio, falls victim to the loud, brashfalse accusationsof immaturevoices. When words fail him, he lives in silenceand replaces thoseempty, false words with somethingmore suggestive,tender and yet equally 140

fingers [ ] havebeen for powerful: 'The nervousexpressive ... might well mistaken the 13 fingers of the devoteegoing swiffly through decadeafter decadeof his rosary'.

Short Story Cyclesand Tradition In this sectionI want to suggestthat anothersignificant structuralstrategy is evidence of a more traditional influenceof Ih Our Time. The short story differs fundamentally from the novel in that it offers a completeand unified aestheticexperience because it can, unlike the novel, be readat one sitting. The ideaof unity hasa long tradition in the short story, and was at the centreof EdgarAllen Poe's definition. Aligned to the unity of experiencethat the forrn offers, Poeclaimed that the writer of the short story should: conceive,with deliberatecare, a certain uniqueor single effect to be wrought OUt9.14The methodshould be equally united to this aim: 'in the whole compositionthere shouldbe no word written, of which the tendency,direct or 15 indirect, is not to the pre-establisheddesign'.

The short story cycle offers the writer the opportunity to retain that sense of unity in single stories whilst developing themes and ideas across several, interrelated stories. This is precisely the effect found in the structuring of In Our Time. Here, the stories adhere to the single effect that Poe describes and each can be read independently of the others in the collection. However, some stories - and particularly those towards the end, such as 'Big Two-Hearted River' - make more sense if read in the light of previous stories, where a personal history of the character has already been established. This is particularly true of Nick Adams,

13S. Anderson,Winesberg, Ohio (New York: Dover, 1995),p. 9. 14W. Allen TheShort Story in English (Oxford: ClarendonPress, 1981, p. 11. 13Allen, p. 11. 141 and in many senses,the collection can be read as his bildungsroman. The grouping of several short stories through internal linking or external framing has a long tradition in the short story.

The Decameronand The Canterbury Talesare structuredaround the externalframing device of collectionsof oral anecdotestold for a purpose,in the latter exampleas part of a contest,all on interconnectedthemes for eachdifferent day. Malory's Aforte

D'Anhur, with its interconnectedArthurian stories,represents an exampleof internal linking, wherethe storiescontain a commonthread, such as a theme,or the reappearanceof the samecharacter. These short story cycleshave a modem counterpartin Anderson's Winesberg,Ohio, whose setting in time and placeare constantthroughout and in which charactersappear more than once,albeit transitorily.

Hemingwayhad, in his apprenticeship,produced a seriesof sketcheswhich resernbled the cyclical characteristicsof Winesberg,Ohio, as well as containingmany of its themes.In November 1919,he beganwork on what went on to becomehis

'Crossroads'sketches. 16 They were ordinary sketchesof ordinary people,based upon real inhabitantsof his homeof Oak Park:

Old Man Hurd hasa face that looks indecent.He hasn't any whiskers,

and his chin kind of slinks in and his eyesare red rimmed and watery,

and the edgesof his nostrils are always red and raw. (763)

" The 'Crossroads'sketches are reprinted in Fenton0 995) pp. 762-765 142

The focus upon a single characterfor eachsketch resembles Anderson's method, and in his collection the story titles include the namesof the charactersthey focus on. The stories' interestin unexceptionallives and their aspirationtowards a plainer diction gavestimulus to Hemingway'sdevelopment. Indeed, it was a watershedwhen one considersthem in relation to the usually young, usually heroic 'outsiders' from stories written aboutthe sametime, such as 'Punk Alford' and 'The Ash Heel's Tendon'.

However,they do not retain a senseof interdependencewhich would becomeso importantto the interchaptersof In Our Time to which they are so obviously a precursor.In a sense,that reflectedAnderson's structure.Although connectedby place,there was little to suggestto the readerthat this relationshiphad a significant function that was highly revealing,other than a convenientprinciple underwhich he could collect his stories.

JamesJoyce's Dubliners, in which the location onceagain remains constant, is anotherexample of suchcontinuity. Hemingway readDubliners in manuscriptand the notion of a thematicallyconnected and structurally unified collection of storieswould further createan impressionupon him. Dubliners is an interestingexample because the storiesdo not sharea temporalcontinuity or many of the samecharacters, yet the sustainedfocus upon Dublin and its metaphoricalparalysing effect bring the stories togetherin a way that suggestthey are part of a cycle. What is apparentfrom reading

Dubliners is the way in which the short story cycle connectsseemingly disparate eventsand ideasthrough the sharedfocus of Dublin, which in turn is a metaphorfor disconnection,growing uneaseand, paradoxically,hope. The collection is notjust set in Dublin, it is about Dublin. This idea culminatesin the snow of 'The Dead', that framing device which connectsthose stories that havecome before. Hemingwaywas 143 to developthe idea of the cycle, but rejectedthe notion of connectingplace or time.

Rather,his storiesare connectedthrough the developmentof a single character.The repeatedappearance of the Nick Adams in severalof the storiesaspires to the kind of characterdevelopment normally associatedwith the novel. The 'Nick Adams' stories are arrangedchronologically, and chart Nick's progressfrom childhood to a man confronting his fears,having beenwounded literally and emotionally during the

17In first 'Indian Camp', Nick is boy '[ ] felt war. the story, a small who ... quite sure that he would neverdie' (44). In 'The End of Something' it appearsthat he hasaged as he breaksoff a romanticrelationship, a separationwhich occupieshis thoughtsin following story, 'The Three-DayBlow' and marks the beginningof the transition from in 'rites 'The childhood to adulthoodwhich culminates the of passage'b story,

Battler' which follows it. Nick is now absentfrom the storiesuntil he reappearsin

'Cross-CountrySnow' but he continuesto appearin the interchapters.'Chapter VI' detailsNick's injuries during the war, during which he sits againstthe wall of the churchhaving beenhit in the spine.Although the characterof 'Chapter VI I' is unnamed,the readeris left in little doubt that it is Nick Adams becausethe story focusesupon the next stagein the eventwe havewitnessed in a previousvignette, as he prays for his survival during a artillery shelling. Nick*s reappearanceoccurs six storiesalong in 'Cross-CountrySnow' and the claim that: 'I can*t telemarkwith my leg' (122) reminds us of the injuries he has sustained.In his final appearance,Nick attemptsto cometo termswith thoseinjuries, both physicaland mental,he sustained during the war in 'Big Two-HeartedRiver'.

17Hemingway was to write severalother Nick Adams storiesafter In Our Time,both thosein which he is explicitly namedsuch as 'The Killers' and those in which his identity is arguablyimplicit, such as 'Hills Like White Elephants'.The storieshave been collected as The Nick Adam Siories in 1972with a prefacefrom the Hemingwaycritic, Philip Young. SeeFenton (1995), pp. xiv-xv. 144

The short story cycle is a traditional strategyfound since Chaucer,and makesa reappearancein its modern form in the notable examplesof Dubliners and In Our

Tinte. The latter representsthe developmentof a single consciousnessover a period of time. Somecritics, and in particular DeborahMoggach, have concludedthat

Nick's consciousnessis the central unifying principle of the work. 18Indeed, in a passageadded to 'Big Two-HeartedRiver' and later rejectedby Hemingway,Nick

Adams tells us that he was the writer of many of the storiesin the collection. As

David Lodge notes,modernist writing can be defined in terms of its interest in the accurateportrayal of consciousness,the inner lives of its characters.19 By focusing upon the psychic life of Nick Adams, Hemingway was transforming the traditional mode of the short story cycle, just as Andersonhad with Winesberg,Ohio and Joyce had with Dubliners. In Our Time was a modernistexperiment in expressingthe consciousnessof a characterover time. For the reader,this meantthat a seriesof often very short stories would expand to encompass several years and thus broaden the scope of what might appear localised, particular events. The short story cycle was integral to our understanding of In Our Time as a modernist work that attempts to draw the reader into making connections between spccif ic events, just as the interchapters did.

Realismand In Our Time One of the most fruitful ways of examining the developmentof fierningway*s minimalist style is through a discussionof its relationship with realism. Realism was the dominant mode of discoursein the American and Europeannovel of the latter

" Bcnson,pp. 17-33. 19Bradbury, p. 481. 145

19" century but it was not until stories like Herman Melville's 'Bartleby the

Scrivener' that the short story beganto adopt realism in a more sustainedmanner. 20

Even then, this story still retaineda senseof romantic mystery associatedwith the traditional tale and which was not typically found in the realistic novel. Bartleby reappearsdespite the best efforts of his employer. Eventually, his constantpresence threatensthe very sanity of the employer, who invests in Bartleby an almost supernaturalsignificance.

Literary realism is difficult to define not leastbecause at leastone of the key premises upon which it rests-that there is an observable,knowable 'reality' - is equally contentious.Yet, the possibility that fiction can somehowrepresent reality is a commonconsideration for authorsand readers,as it was to Hemingway:the title In

Our Time reflects his interestin offering a critique of his contemporaryworld. In his prefaceto the secondedition of ThereseRaquin, Emile Zola outlinesa 'naturalist' method,an extensionof realism's ambition to capturereality with fidelity in both an adherenceto an unadornedform and a focus upon the everyday.Naturalism narrows the focus of realism by aspiringto a 'surgical' dissectionof contemporarysociety combinedwith an equally clinical vocabulary:

I hopethat by now it is becomingclear that my object hasbeen

first foremost [ ]I had desire: and a scientific one. ... only one given highly-sexed [ ] a man and an unsatisfiedwoman ... then thrown them

20For a history of realism in the short story, seeC. May Reality in the Modern Short Story (Sjývle:Fall 1993,Vol. 27 Issue3, p. 369) and C. May TheShort Story: TheReality ofArlifice (New York: Routledge,2002). 146

togetherin a violent dramaand note down with scrupulouscare the

sensationsand actionsof thesecreatures. I simply applied to two living

bodiesthe analytical methodsthat surgeonsapply to corpses.21

Initially, Hemingway's minimalist style of In Our Time fulfils many of the criteria set by what is known as the correspondencemodel of Zola's naturalism,which begins with the premisethat reality is knowableand so can thereforebe expressed:

[The correspondence theory] involves a nafve or common-sense

belief in [ ] believes the reality of the externalworld ... and that we 22 may cometo know this world by observationand comparison.

In the first instance,realism has been defined by the representationof this reality with fidelity. The following extract from 'Soldier's Home' demonstrateshow

Hemingway was a realist in this respect:

Before Krebs went away to the war he had never been allowed to

drive the family motor car. His father was in the real estatebusiness

and alwayswanted the car to be at his commandwhen he requiredit

to take clients out into the country to show them a piece of farm

property.The car always stoodoutside the First National Bank

21E. Zola, (trans.L. Tancock) ThereseRaquin (London: Penguin,1999), pp. 21-22. 22D. Grant Realism(London: Methuen, 1970),p. 9. 147

Building where his father had an office on the secondfloor. Now,

after the war, it was still the samecar. (88)

Krebs and his father are fictional charactersbut their behaviouris in keepingwith our understandingof humanbehaviour: they act like real people.That Krebs hastravelled and 'went away to the war' and his father wants to keep his car nearbyin caseit was neededare plausiblerather than fantasticevents. Moreover, the passagegestures towardselements which exist in external,knowable, concrete reality. Theseinclude the war, the motor car andjobs in real estate.The story's locale is representativeof the kind of locationsthe readermight readily recogniseas componentsof external reality, especiallyin the first quarterof the twentieth century in the USA. The passage beginsand endswith a referenceto time and the notion that elementsof the narrative exist within time are realist traits. Representationsof real events,people, objects that apply by the realistic rules of existing through time and of causeand effect are indicatorsthat, in terms of the correspondencetheory, Hemingway'sIn Our Time was realist literature.

Hemingwayattempted to forge a style wbicb would expresslife witb autbenticityand without using 'tricks', or gimmicks of literary style. RomanJakobson developed his theory of realism by claiming that it had specific linguistic properties.In his study of

Hemingway*smodernism, David Lodge quotesJakobson on the relationshipbetween this methodand realism: 148

Following the path of contiguousrelationships, the realist author

metonymicallydigresses from the plot to the atmosphereand from

the charactersto the setting of place and time. He is fond of

1.23 synedochicdetai

The following example,from 'A Very Short Story' demonstrateshow this definition of realist discoursecan be applied to the storiesof In Our Time:

One hot eveningin Paduathey carried him up to the top of the roof

and he could look down out over the top of the town. Therewere

chimney swifts in the sky. After a while it got dark and the search-

lights came out. The others went down and took bottles with them.

He and Luz could hearthem below on the balcony. Luz saton the

bed. She was cool and fresh in the hot night.

Luz stayed on night duty for three months. (83)

In the first of Jakobson'sobservations, the digressionfrom the plot to 'atmosphere' appearsto alternate:they carry the presumablywounded figure up to the rooftops to look over the top of the town (plot); shortly after the sky becomesdark and the search-lightsappear (atmosphere); the otherswent down and took bottles and that he

23D. Lodge, TheModes ofAfodern 11'riling(London: Arnold, 1977),p. 158. 149 and Luz could hearthem (plot); Luz is describedas 'cool and fresh' (atmosphere); finally, Luz stayson duty for threemonths (plot).

The secondset of relationshipsdescribed by Jakobson,the movementfrom characters to the setting in spaceand time, is equally evident in this extract.However, the processis reversed:'Padua' appearsas the setting long beforethe passageintroduces the 'others' who go down and finally the couple. Having establishedthe characters and place,the narrativeturns once again to a referenceto setting.This is madeby referenceto the time, where 'Luz stayedon night duty for three months'. Finally, the passagefulfils the syndeochaltendency to which Jakobsonrefers. The town of Padua is representedby the town, the town by the houses,and the housesby the 'chimney swifls'. This patterning occurs frequently in Hemingway's In Our Time.

Jakobson's theory implies that realist fiction could partially be derined by its mode of discourse, a mode which is dependent upon tile relationships between contiguities, as outlined above. This extract demonstrates that Hemingway's minimalist style, with its initial tendency to declare, follows this model. In this respect, In Our Time can be defined as realist becauseit attemptsto representthe 'real world' through an innovative stylistic medium.

However,there are limitations to this realistic modeof discourse.Hemingway found that the experienceshe underwentin Italy could not be easily expressedby conventionalrealist strategies,a difficulty facedby Kreb's in 'Soldier's Home'. 150

Indeed,Krebs' dilemmaprovides a fictional model for Hemingway'stheory of the

inadequacyof naturalisticdiscourse:

Later he felt the needto talk but no one wantedto hearabout it. H is

town had heardtoo many storiesto be thrilled by actualities.Krebs

found that to be listenedto he had to lie, and after he had donethis

twice he, too, had a reactionagainst the war and againsttalking about

it. (87)

The 'lies" that he inventedmeant that a realistic transcriptionof eventswas no longer

appropriatefor a reader,either becausethey had tired of their repetition or because

their compassionhad beendiminished. 24 The text alertsthe readerto theselies, too

('he had to lie') in order to makehis dilemma appearmore feasible,and to foreground

the notion that factual accuracy was necessarily the premise for realistic reportage. In

" Reynoldsnotes that at the conclusionof his lecturecircuit in front of the entire Oak Park High Schoolstudent body, Hemingwayadded new detailsto his heroic deeds.See Reynolds, p. 57:

"One man near [Hemingway] whose leg had beenshattered was crying openly, calling his mother's name.Lieutenant Hemingway told him with characteristicYankee repression to 'Shut up with that noise."' Waiting for the stretcherbearers to arrive, "He threw away his revolver, the temptationto finish thejob was so acute."

by Hemingway augmentsthis account adding"Then I did the only bravething I did in the whole war - I told them to take the other guys first." (Reynolds,p. 57). In his story he was elevatedto a First Lieutenantin the Italian Army, fighting in three major battles.None of this was true. Nor was the claim that Hemingwaywould have carrieda pistol - Red Crossmen, delivering chocolateand cigars to men at the front, were not issuedrevolvers. Reynolds notes: 'The pain had beentrue, real and deep;now the audienceknew, from the fictive revolver,just how deep' (Reynolds,p. 57). 151 other words, the realist modeof discoursewas neither 'new' enoughnor useful for expressingthe kind of experiencesthat Hemingwaywanted to express.

Hemingwaynow had assumedhis contemporarymodemist's belief that the power of art, and more specifically fiction, could transcenda factualor 'naturalistic, accountto createa literaturethat was, in his words, 'truer than anythingtrue' - or, more likely to recreatethe experiencein his readers.(This was a tensionhe found in attemptingto makehis journalism profoundand memorable,as I haveshown above, which for a youngerHemingway seemed an oxymoron.) This idea is bestexpressed as a reaction againstthe psychologicalexpression in I 91hcentury tale, againrepresented by Poe.

Here, that limitation is found in the notion that it remainsdifficult for more general patterns of significance to emerge from the basis of the behaviour of a single character. Hemingway's ambition was to transcend the specificity of 'reportage, of which realistic characterisation is an example. This idea can readily be found within his fiction. In 'Big Two-Hearted River', Nick notices that the grasshoppers he finds along his path are not ones he recognises. Rather, they are coloured black:

As he walked along the road, climbing, he had startedmany grass-

hoppersfrom dust. [ ] These just hoppers,but the ... were ordinary

black in [ ] Now [ ] he had all a sooty color...... realizedthat they all

turned black from living in the burned-overland. He realizedthat the

fire have before [ ] He how long must comethe year ... wondered they

would stay that way. (145) 152

The grasshoppers, like the swamp of the story, are described realistically by

Hemingway. However, here they deviate from the norm of coloured with 'yellow and black or red and black wings' that Nick recognises by being burnt black. In doing so, they are not simply an innocently descriptive element but become symbolic of the destruction of the war, especially when one considers them in the light of the blackened town of Seney detailed at the opening of the story. The process of transformation from realistic detail to symbol function can be seen here. Hemingway applied the combination of naturalism and symbolism in his characterisation, and as such provides an interesting contrast with pre-20th century literature. In the romance tale, for example, the characterisation did not aspire to roundness, sophistication or realism (in the senseof verisimilitude). Most characters were archetypes, Princes or

Knights, Serfs or Villains, whose characterisation was merely an extension of the plot.

Charles May makes the distinction between this idea and that held by the new short 25 story:

In the older, pre-nineteenth-century romance form, character was

clearly a function of plot, and plot itself was a symbol of the

psychological, metaphysical, and moral mysteries of universal human

[ ] Whereas the 'this is experience. ... old romance story says, the way

people are,' the new realistic story says, 'this is the way people act. 926

" Stein offered an interestingexample of this traditional form characterisationwhen sheattempted to She her TheMaking j ] createstereotypes. saysof study ofAmericans that shewanted to: ... makea descriptionof every kind of humanbeing until I could know by thesevariations how everybodywas to be known' (C. Fenton,p. 155).The approachwas pseudo-scientific,permeated with the modemist's trust in a systematicmethod and reflectedthe contemporaryinterest in personalitytypes and consequentbehaviour. Stein adaptedit for her own endsand suggestedHemingway use it, too. 26May (2002), p. 40. 153

Many of the storiesof EdgarAllen Poeare examplesof the romanceform of characterisationin that centralcharacters are conduitsof Poe's theoriesof psychology:he is telling us that 'this is the way peopleare'. In this example,that theory is of 'perverseness'which he outlines in the essay/story'The Imp of the

Perverse'but it is betterexpressed in application,during one of his most famoustales,

'The Black Cat'. Here,the narratordefines 'perverseness'as that 'spirit' which makes us do what we know to be wrong, simply becausewe know as such:

Who hasnot, a hundredtimes, found himself committing a vile or

a silly action, for no other reasonthan he knows he should not? Have

we not a perpetualinclination, in the teeth of our bestjudgement, to

violate that which is Law, merely becausewe understandit to be such?27

The thus hangs his beloved j ] because I knew it had loved narrator cat, ... me, and 28 because I felt it had given me no reason of offence'. What is at question here is not the sophistication of Poe's psychological theories in comparison to Freud's (although one might reasonably conduct that argument) but how Poe's theories dominate his method of characterisation. In 'The Black Cat' and elsewhere, the central character is merely a conduit for the theory. Acc6rdingly, his actions cohere to the 'single effect' of Poe's intentions, to outline, demonstrate and prove his theory of 'perverseness'.

Hemingway's characterisation would not offer so complete and explicit indication of their mental state. Rather, he would, along with his predecessor Chekhov, seek to find a method that could combine his interest in naturalist descriptive 'authenticity' and

27Galloway, p. 322. "' Galloway, pp. 322 - 323. 154 the evocationof mood. Both Hemingwayand Chekhovwere interestedin action independentof motivation, an importantaspect of Barthelme'swork, as I shall demonstratelater in this thesis.

Chekhov's style sharesseveral similarities with that of Hemingway.It is simple to the point of innocence,stripped of any verbosity,with a limited vocabularyand structurally uncomplicatedand often shortersentences. Like Hemingway's,

Chekhov's storiescan be characterisedas possessingslight narrativeswith little or no overt action. Whereincident occurs,it may appeartrivial or coincidental,although it is often weightedwith huge significance.For example,the cabbyof 'Heartache' fails to make an impressionupon his customerswith newsof his son's death.In the final scene,he is found telling his newsto his horse,a scenewhich on the surfaceappears slight but which through careful renderingreveals the incommunicablenature of grief.

As a result of what appearsto be such impoverishednarratives, demands are placed upon the readerto fulfil the stories' potential.It may be that major eventsor climaxes are not explicitly stated,with the readersupplying them instead.Often, the stories lack a clear, authoritativenarrative voice which in turns diminishesauthorial judgement.In somecases, this takesthe form of multiple voices offering equally valid opinions, suchas the magistrateand accusedin 'The Malefactor".Here, the two sides argueabout the legality and morality of the theft of severalbolts from the railway lines, usedby the accusedfor fishing. Eachoffers a persuasiveargument, until

Chekhovfinishes with the subtlehint that although illegal, the theft might be practically and morally innocuous. 155

One of Chekhov's centralcontributions to the developmentof the modem short story was the evocationof a character'sstate of mind. In this, Chekhovwas influencedby symbolism.Symbolism, especially that found in works of Frenchpoets such as

Mallarmd, Verlaine and Rimbaudwas a reactionagainst the dominantforms of realism and naturalism.Significantly, the symbolist poetsattempted to recreate experiencein the readerthrough their poetry. More specifically, it was againstthe more 'objective' descriptivetendencies that culminatedin the aspirationto objectivity found in the work of the Parnassianmovement. Conversely, symbolists valued suggestion,implication and evocationabove the aspirationtowards detachment and symbolismhad at its basisthe notion that the personalmood or experienceof the poet could be recreatedin the readerthrough language.Symbolism exercised influence over severalof the leadingfigures of modernism,including Pound,Joyce, Eliot and

Woolf.

Chekhov's aspirationtowards detachment meant that the narratorshould not provide a commentaryon how his charactersmight feel. Rather,he soughtto find an objective equivalentto their subjectivestate, a selectionof concretedetails that would recreate the experienceof characterwithout recourseto authorial intervention.In the caseof the story 'Misery' (1886) and variously translatedas 'Heartache'or 'Lament', the structuringof lano's variousconversations objectify a complex emotionalresponse.

lano is the driver of a horse-drawncab who beginsthe story waiting to take a fare. His strong needto discussthe recentdeath of his son soonasserts itself but his faltering

lament is met with indifferenceby his first customer.Similarly, the three young men who comprisehis secondfare are equally unsympathetic:they chide him for not being quick enoughand one strikes him on the neck. As Iona attemptsto tell them more 156 about his son's death,they arrive at their destinationand quickly departbefore he can tell them. Understandingthat his attemptsto communicatehis grief havefailed, he resortsto tell his uncomprehendinghorse, a monologuewhich barely beginsas the story ends.Chekhov creates in lano a senseof the incommunicablenature of grief through the structureof three conversations.The first two developan increasingly unresponsiveattitude to his loss as a result of rejection: his customerscould listen if they wanted,but they choosenot to. In the first instance,this is becausethe customer lacks sufficient sympathy:'[Iona] looks at the officer severaltimes, but the latter keepshis eyesclosed and is apparentlyindisposed to listen'.29 In the secondcase, the

'revellers' are too absorbedby their quarrelling and desireto get to their destinationto be interestedin Iona's grief. When Iona attemptsto tell them, the hunchbackreplies 30 fatalistically: 'We shall all die'. The final exampleof speechis a monologue,which 31 endswith the projection that: 'Iona is carried away and tells her everything'. it would appearthat Iona could articulatehis grief when given the opportunity but becausehe tells his story to an uncomprehendinghorse, his monologueonly servesto reinforce the idea that grief is incommunicable,even if thosewords can be found to begin to expressit. 'Misery' expressesthe idea that grief is incommunicablethrough the accretionof detail within the assembledframework of conversations.Grief is thus aligned to Hemingway*snotions of honour, courageand duty, ideaswhich have largely lost meaningsince the War.

29A. Yarmolinsky (ed.) The PortahleChekhov(New York: Penguin, 1975),p. 120. 30Yarmolinksy, p. 122. 31Yannolinksy, p. 125. 157

As such,Hemingway shares Chekhov's interest in finding a selectionof objective elementsthrough which he can expressa character'semotional life, a life that does not easily lend itself to explicit and direct expression.

KatherineMansfield's story 'The Fly' (1923) is also thematically interestedin the

natureof grief and shareswith 'Misery' its expressionthrough selectedconcrete

details. Like 'Misery' the narratorremains firmly detachedand doesnot provide a direct evaluationof the boss'smental state.Rather, this is suggestedin a typically

Chekhovianway through the seeminglytrivial conversationwith his old acquaintance and the mannerin which the bosstoys with the fly beforekilling it. Like 'Misery',

'The Fly' usesobjective, concrete detail to communicatecomplex statesof feeling.

The key differencewith this story is its relianceupon a single symbol as the focus of

interpretation.'The Fly' investsits expressionof the boss'sinner reality through the

single symbol of the fly. As a result, the meaningof this story hingesupon its

interpretation:

The last blot fell on the soaked blotting-paper, and the draggled fly

lay in it did [ ] The boss lifted the the and not stir. ... corpse on end of

the paper-knife and flung it into the waste-paper basket. But such a

32 feeling him he felt frightened of wretchedness seized that positively .

Variously, the killing and disposalof the fly might representseveral possibilities: the

deliberatecessation of grief by the boss;furthermore, its cruel deathmight signify that

32D. Davin (ed.) Katherine Mansfield: SelecledStories(New York: Oxford UP, 1981), p. 358. 158 life hasbecome less important for the boss,not more, following his son's death;finally, it might suggestthat its literal drowning is a metaphorfor the ways in which the boss figuratively 'drowned' his sonby attemptingto manipulatehis life, as he doeswith his employees.In eachcase, the emotionalstate of the bossis expressedthrough a specific concretedetail which is ostensiblyunrelated to his personaldifficulties and so is

'objective' in that it is seeminglydetached. However, as the exampleshows, his recognitionthat he was 'positively frightened' links his emotionallife with the deathof fly. This story works not so much upon the configurationof events,as in the 'Misery' example,but the tensionis insteadchannelled through the symbolof the fly.

Hemingway's 'Big Two-HeartedRiver' possessesa thematicconcern with grief but is notablefor the deliberateovert omissionof the causeof that grief In somesenses, this omissionis suggestive,therefore, of more than one causeof grief, as the readeris left to find cluesas to its cause.Nick grieves for himself, as he hasbecome shattered by his experiencesduring the war and like the trout which becomes'tightened' as he facesthe stream,so: 'Nick's hearttightened as the trout moved.He felt all the old feeling.' (144). This explicit link (in 'tightened*) makesclear the link betweenthe real world of objective observationand a character'sinner feelings.Nick hasto face his past in order to overcomehis distress.One causeof such anxiety is the loss of comrades,one of which he rememberswhen he makescoffee: 'They never saw

Hopkins again.That was a long time ago on the Black River'. Like the blackened town of Seneyand the sooty-colouredgrasshoppers, the river is evocativeof the death and destructionwhich war brings.There exists a combinationof the techniquesof

Chekhovand Mansfield. The idea of black is, of course,an ancientsymbol with which light is normally opposedto suggestthe battle betweenevil and goodness.But 159 somethingmore is suggestedby the repetition of the word: black meansthe war and its destructionand by locating his friend Hopkins within the environmentof the black river. The text is inviting the readerto apply that symbolic value to the present examplebut without explicit instruction.As a result, the readermay feel that Hopkins hasbeen lost during the war becausethe text directs the readerthere through the structuringof similar ideas.The result is a product of the symbolic useof the term

'black' but is also a product of its configuration within the story. As it appears,it assumesa role that the readermust subsequentlyrecognise in order to make sensethe narrative,following Hemingway's deliberateomission. In doing so, the story expands beyondpersonal significance to representthe grief for what becameknown as 'the lost generation', those whom found life difficult following the First World War. In each case, the symbolic function of black co-exists with its naturalistic function.

Hemingway's plausible symbols are always in-keeping with their realistic function.

As such, this represents an example of his ambition to marry the specific requirements of a realistic discourse with a symbolic function. As David Lodge notes:

What Hemingway learned from his exposure to modernist literary

theory and practice and from his own trials and errors in those crucial

Paris years, was to refine and complicate the basic devices of vernacular

narration so as to give his writing something of the magical, incantatory

quality of symbolist poetry, without losing the effect of sincerity,

authenticity, of 'the way it w& - in short, to combine realism and 33 modernism in a single style.

33 Lodge, p. 158. 160

The shift in characterisationnecessarily leads to a transfonnationin the ways through which the readermust cometo understandthe character.Indeed, this shift often causesproblems for readers.The problemof whether the minimalist style creates sophisticated,realistic charactersis often expressedin termsof the ways in which they addressthe world through the things they say and do, given we have little access to what their inner feelingsare from a limited omniscientnarrator. It is felt that becausethe readeris not informed of how the charactersare feeling directly by the narrator(as they are in the extremeexample of Poe's thesisof the 'perverse') then they must somehowbe flat and psychologically impoverished.I would counterthis by arguing that they are flat if the criteria for successfulrepresentation of characteris solely dependentupon the narratorfor providing a psychologicalassessment. This would be akin to readingthe charactersof modem fiction with a traditional perspective.Modem literaturecalled for new ways of reading,as the exampleof characterisationshows. This is one of the principles upon which this study rests:that the minimalist approachto writing was especiallydemanding for the reader.

Realismas Reader-Created The notion that any account was incomplete, informed the ways in which Hemingway representedreality in his fiction. Ratherthan appealto a referentialmodel by describingobjects with fidelity, Hemingwaysought to recreatethe structuresof experiencein his fiction. This is akin to the modemisttendency to createa structurein fiction that revealsmore than it resolves.Here, this meantin practicethe useof 'open' eIndings, where interpretativeequivocation replaces the 'closed', resolvedendings.

The idea was that this kind of open,unresolved conclusion was closerto the ways in which 'actual' life was lived. Life, accordingto this model,was not composedof the 161 kind of discretecomponents about which one could readily cometo a fixed, conclusiveinterpretation. Rather, as exemplified by suchstories as 's modemist'Kew Gardens',it was more faithfully representedby a continuum in which one impressionconnects with anotherand aboutwhich no final conclusionsmight be made.By including omissionsas part of his theory of writing, Hemingwaywas alive to the potentialto recreatethe structureof the 'new' theory of modem experienceas somethingthat was incompleteand fragmentary.As he cameto know through his journalism, any accountis necessarilyincomplete. By emphasisingthis idea of partiality throughomitting vitals elementsof a plot, he drew attentionto this fact and to the processby which we come to makesense of the world. Here,we can locatethe missingelement in 'Big Two-HeartedRiver' by creatingrelationships with other elements.So, we corneto know aboutNick's causeof anguish- the war - by examiningwhat we find in that story, as well as his personalhistory in the interchapters.

Furthen-nore,the conceptof showing not telling, establishedthrough the useof the absentnarrator and suggestivelanguage, is analogousto the processby which we confront the world. There is no narrativevoice which tells us how to interpretwhat we find beforeus. In this way, we can call Hemingway's minimalist style realistic becauseit more accuratelyrepresents in terms of its theory of knowledgethe process by which we confront the world and especiallythrough the way characteris represented.Kim Herzingeris speakingabout Minimalist writers, but the idea could equally be appliedto Hemingway: 162

The readerof 'minimalist' fiction is being askedto face the

charactersin the story the way we face peoplein the real world,

peoplewho do not - in my experienceat least- ordinarily declare

their personalhistories, political and moral attitudes,or psycho-

logical conditionsfor my profit or understanding.34

Hemingway omits a central explanatory element of realist discourse - cause and/or motive - and in doing so, attempts to create a convention more attuned to the norms of sogial interaction: like Hemingway's description of his characters, we are not

(often) privy to a 'personal history' upon meeting someone. This was a deliberate strategy. In the example from 'Soldier"s Home' of the office building discussed above, representation was not confined to a fidelity in the description of objects such as the car, or the building. Rather, it reflected universal natural laws, such as cause and effect. Hemingway often deliberately omits cause or motive from his stories, noting that he wanted to write a story about war with no mention of the war in it, which he did in 'Big Two-Hearted River% By omitting cause, it would appear that he rejects one of the elements that make his fiction realistic. But this is illusory, because by omitting the cause only serves to emphasis it; its absence means the reader must somehow renegotiate with the textual evidence to help reinstate it as a presence or more precisely, they must fill the gaps left by omission. The reader must look for it and in doing so, must recreate it. That part which has been omitted, the war, becomes more real becausethe reader has created it themselves. This was entirely in keeping with Hemingway's desire to prompt his readers to consider and re-evaluate the role of the war in everyday life, a notable theme ofA Fareivell to Arms.

" Herzinger,p. 17. 163

It is this creationof interpretativeequivocation that is the heartof his realism. Here, we-arereminded of Iser's assertionthat it is that which we make ourselvesthat appearsto us as more real. If our senseof reality is ultimately our own making, then any text that is partially our creation is thereforerealistic to us. Literary minimalism, which createssuch interpretativeequivocation through its practiceof omission(in ways that texts which do not dependupon omission do not) is realistic becausewe, the reader,have recreatedin our own terms; it is realistic becausethe readerhas imposedtheir individual consciousnessupon it as if they recreatedit for themselves.

Realism,in this sense,is not a conventionfor more accuratelyexpressing the contemporaryreality, an objective reality expressedin an objective matterseparate from the text and presentin the conceptof a knowable,external reality: it is the preserveof the individual consciousness,the subjeciiveresponse to that external reality. It is also very much an emotionalreality, given that Hemingwaywas intent on recreatingemotional truths that might be at oddswith their representationin external reality. As such,the externalresponse - the interpretation- representsthe realism of the text, not the text to which it is intended. 164

Part Two: Bridging the Gap from Hemingway to Carver This part aims to addresstwo areas.First, to suggestwhat happenedto minimalism during the period of publication of In Our Time in 1925 and the publication of

Raymond Carver's Will You Please Be Quiet, Please? in 1976. Second,it attempts to contextualisedCarver and his work to help position him in minimalism's literary historical development,and in so doing introduce his work. I've shown how important it is to understandthe origins and developmentsof the minimalist style for Hemingway and now I attempt, albeit more briefly, to do the samefor

Carver.

The Hemingway Legacy Outsideof minimalism, Hemingwayýsinfluence upon literaturehas been immense and well documented.Scott Donaldsonin his essay'Hemingway and Fame' argues that Hemingway's 'fame' is as much a product of the man as the fiction, passed through the media-machinethat hungersfor news and sensationalism.35 Hemingway's flirtation with Hollywood, his severalmarriages, and his well-known propensityfor

'heroic' pursuits such as big-game hunting and deep-sea fishing, earned him a reputation that was part a creation of his writing, part a creation of the man. Bloom suggeststhat the man and his work fuse to createsomething larger than the sum of their parts:

The final effect of the work and the life togetheris not lessthan

[ ] Hemingway is is mythological ... now myth, and so permanent

" S. Donaldson(ed. ) The CambridgeCompanion lo Hemingway(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,1996), pp. 1-16. 165

as an imageof American heroism,or perhapsmore ruefully the

American illusion of heroism.36

Such a legacy was widespread as it was pervasive. In one such example, Jeffrey

Meyers notes the influence upon genre fiction:

Hemingway's life and work, which taught a generation of men to

speak in stoical accents, had a profound influence on a school of

hard-boiled writers - Chandler, Hammett, Cain, Caldwell, Farrell,

0' Hara, Algren, Shaw, Jones, Kerouac - who were affected not

only by his style and technique, but by his violent content and

heroic code.37

He addsseveral names to the list which might be included within the canonof major

American writers, including Norman Mailer, whosenoteworthy story 'The Time of

Her Time': 'would be inconceivablewithout Hemingway'.38 Hemingway's style seemedso well-suitedto an expressionof his generation,that it becameviewed as the pre-eminentmodern literary style, a point madeby Matthew Stewartin his study of In

Our Time:

Any present-daydifficulties in identifying the importanceof

Hemingway's influencecan be attributedto the fact that he has

beensubsumed into the literary culture. Ratherthan being seen

" H. Bloom, (ed.) Modern Critical News: ErnestIlemingnvay (New York: Chelseaand Sons,1985), p. 5. 37j. MeyersHemingway: A Biography (London: Macmillan, 1985),p. 570. 38Meyers (1985), p. 570. 166

as an imposingor, at least,prominent featureon the literary

landscape,his work is subj ect to being taken by uninformed

contemporary readers as 'natural', as the way good fiction writers 39 write.

Paradoxically,Hemingway's style was consideredso innovativeand successfulthat severalwriters were concernedthat their work might absorband reflect it and as a result, it may well appearunoriginal and disappointingin comparison.One such writer is JohnCheever, who is quoted in Scott Donaldson'sbiography as saying that

Hemingway,along with Faulknerand Fitzgerald,was a strong influence.One of the early manuscriptsfor a novel, for example,is rejectedbecause of its close resemblanceto Hemingway"sstyle:

He has Yaddo [ ] but Cowley [editor] had starteda novel at ... now read [ ] found disappointing. the completedchapters of this novel ... and them They readtoo much like stories,Cowley thought, eachchapter

reaching a dead end. And they sounded too much like Hemingway -

particularly the Hemingway of '' - both in style 40 and theme.

Rejectingthe idiom of Hemingway,but acknowledginghis debt, Cheeveris one of severalwriters that help bridge the gap betweenHemingway and Carver. In his

39M. StewartModernism and Tradition in Ernest Ilemingivays In Our Time (New York: Camden House,200 1), p. 13. 40S. DonaldsonJohn Cheever.,A Biography (New York: RandomHouse, 1988),p. 6 1. 167 stories,there is genuinesense of the wider social world whilst they remain focussed, on the whole, with domesticmatters.

John Cheever and Domestic Desperation Checvcrrepresents a movementaway from an interestin the more extremethemes and locationsof Hemingwaytowards an interestin the domesticlives of thoseliving in moderatelyaffluent suburbanAmerica. This focus on an interestin interpersonal domesticrelationship acts as a precursorto Carver, who was similarly interested, althoughhis work focusedupon the working-classlives of men and women,often in dire circumstances.

One of his more notablestories, 'The Swimmer' (1964), focusesupon the tension betweenthe pacifying natureof middle-classsuburbia and the sometimestorrid emotionallives of his characters.

fie had beenswimming and now he was breathingdeeply, stertorously

as if he could gulp into his lungs the components of that moment, the 41 heatof the sun,the intensenessof his pleasure.

There are severaldissimilarities with the minimalist style here, including the inclusion of complex words, the longer sentences,and the intrusive narrator's commentary,and

I do not suggestthat his work is minimalist. However, it doesact as thematic link to

Carver,a writer who also rejectedHemingway's style and subject.In Cheever'sstory,

41J. CheeverThe Stories ofJohn Cheever(London: Vintage, 1990),pp. 776-777. 168 the protagonistNeddy Merrill discoversduring his swim that: by taking a

42 doglegto the southwesthe could reachhis homeby water'. And so he beginshis journey towardshis homeand his wife and children by visiting the swimming pools of friends' housesalong the way. He is describedas feeling 'clean' as he swam,and it appearsit hasa redemptiveeffect upon his emotional life, not unlike the cool clear watersof 'The Big Two-HeartedRiver' for Nick Adams.

Yet as he swims from one gardento the next he appearsincreasingly desperate, evident from a seriesof nuancedcomments, inflections and subtlereferences that underminehis initial promise.One of those is the advanceof an impendingstorm, expressedas: 'The standof cumuluscloud - that city - had risen and darkened'which anticipatesthe desperateending that will follow. 43The tensionagain is betweenthe redemptivequality of the watersand the oppressionof the city, which threatenshis finatural'equilibrium. As he swims, he meetsthe owners' of the various swimming pools, ostensiblyhis friends. One owner tells him she is terribly sorry to hearof his misfortunes,which he denies:

'My misfortunesTNed asked.'I don't know what you mean.'

'Why, we heardthat you'd sold the houseand that your poor

9 children...

'I don't recall having sold the house,' Ned said, 'and the girls

are all at home.944

42 Cheever,p. 777. 43 Cheever,p. 778. 44 Cheever,p. 784. 169

In the final passage,having swum through the suburbs,the forcesof the thunderstorm have destroyedpart of his houseand he returnshome to find the gutter hangingacross the front of the door:

The dark. [ ] The house locked, he placewas ... was and thought the stupid cook or the stupid maid must have locked the placeup until

he rememberedthat it must have beensometime since they employed

a maid or a cook. He shouted,pounded on the door, tried to force it

with his shoulder, and then, looking at the windows, saw that the place was 45 empty.

My interestin this story, and Cheevermore generally,is the focus upon the domestic lives of modernAmericans as a valid subjectfor seriousliterary writing. It seems

Hemingway scoffedat Mr and Mrs Eliott's attemptsat conceptionand domestic matters- suchas the wife's dissatisfactionin 'Cat in the Rain' - might be considered equally trivial. There is an element in Hemingway that saw the writing of domestic scenesas intrinsically 'unmanly' and unfit for a subject of serious fiction. This was not always the case and in later stories like 'Hills Like White Elephants', Hemingway explored the emotional lives of two young people caught in a domestic human dilemma.

In 'The Swimmer' we find many of Carver's areasof interestpre-figured. Ned representsthe kind of protagonistfound in someof Carver's early writings, as someonewho hasbeen robbed of their self-determinationas a result of a domestic

'5 Cheever,p. 788. 170 upheaval.Ned, too, feels the pressureof his peersto conform and succeed,as do so many of Carver's failing characters,especially in termsof their material success.

Moreover,there existsa tensionbetween what the characterknows andwhat they can revealto themselvesand Ned's denial of his troubles is a precursorto Carver's bewildered,inarticulate and un-self-conscious'anti-heroes'. In essence,Carver rejects the themesand areasof interestof Hemingway"swriting in favour of the kind of focus upon everyday,domestic issues found in Cheever,whilst allowing himself to be influencedby Hemingway's style. Indeed,the relationshipbetween Carver and

Hemingwayremained strong and it is to this 'influence' that I now turn.

Hemingway's 'Influence'on Carver

Severalstudies of minimalism or minimalist writers include Hemingwayas a defining influenceon Minirnalism but stop short of suggestingthat his work is minimalist. 46In one sense,this is entirely understandable.In its commonliterary currency,

Minimalism refers to a looselycollected group of writers from America of the 1970s to the presentday. As such,Hemingway would be excludedon historical grounds.47

But there are many other reasonswhile critics are reluctantto comparethe writers in any significant way. Jay McInerney summarisessome of theseconcerns in his comparisonof Hemingwaywith RaymondCarver, a writer more readily associated with the Minimalist group:

46See A. M. SaltzmanUnderstanding Raymond Carver (South Carolina:UP of SouthCarolina Press, 1988),pp. 76,77; C. W. Hallett Afinimalismand the Short Story (New York: Edwin Mellen Press, 1999),pp. 4,12,13,15; R. RebeinHicks, Tribes,and Dirty Realists:American Fiction After Posimodernism(Kentucky: UP of Kentucky, 200 1), pp. 26,27. That RaymondCarver himself might be influencedby the Hemingway style is alludedto in his review of two Hemingwaybiographies, found in W. Stull (ed.) Call if l'ou NeedAle: The UncollectedFiction and ProseofRaymond Carver (London: Harvill, 2000), pp. 276-287. 47As I makeclear in my introduction,minimalism as an aestheticand Minimalism as a phenomenon might be fairly distinguishedby the specific useof an initial capital letter: as an aesthetic,with a small W and, as phenomenonwith an initial capital 'M'. 171

Encountering Carver"s fiction in the early 1970s was a transforming

experience for many writers of my generation, an experience perhaps

comparable to discovering Hemingway's sentencesin the 20s. In

fact, Carver's language was unmistakably like Hemingway's - the

simplicity and clarity, the repetitions, the nearly conversational rhythms,

the precision of physical description. But Carver completely disposed of

the romantic egoism that made the Hemingway idiom such an awkward

model for other writers in the late 20'h century-48

What McInerney calls Hemingway's 'romantic egoism' is largely responsiblefor the rift betweenhis writing and that of thosewith whom he sharesso much in common.

As a result, analysisof Hemingway'sconnection with Minimalism is largely incomplete,and is often dismissedas being evident in only a few elementsof style: the short sentence,the repetitions,and so on. But there is more to minimalism that merely a writing style, and more to understandregarding the connectionbetween

Hemingwayand Minimalist writers. Minimalism is underpinnedby particular methods,practices and principles,which createtheir own implications and effects.

Through an analysisof theseeffects, I suggestways in which Hemingway's work might be more fairly comparedto writers normally associatedwith Minimalism, such as RaymondCarver and FrederickBarthelme.

It is worth noting that Hemingwayand Carver's lives overlap,and Hemingwaywas still writing shortly beforethe conceptionof Will YouPlease Be Quiet, Please?

48j. McInemey RaymondCarver 'A Still, Small Voice' TheNeir Eork Times:New York, 61hAugust 1989),p. 27, my emphasis. 172

Although Hemingway's critical reputation fluctuated during his lifetime, even just

shortly before his death in 1962 he was still an immensely powerful force in

American letters. Indeed, his works still attracted both popular and critical attention

late in his career, although many were considered to be weaker than his early OUtpUt.49

Following his death a handful of notable posthumous publications were approved,

including A MoveableFeast (1964) and Islands in the Stream(1970) and many of his

manuscriptsbecame available for scholarly analysisfor the first time. Collectively, this meansthat Hemingwaythe writer continuedto be a strong presence- evenafter his death- in the late 1960sand early 1970s.As a result, thosewho might be tempted to assimilatehis style might havebeen put off by the fact that they were competing with the 'real thing'. 50

Of the several figures who occupy Raymond Carver studies, Hemingway appears frequently as a source of comparison and influence. Indeed, throughout Carver scholarship there are many comparisons made between these two figures, both 51 implicit and expl iCit. Several critics have pointed out that the very title of Carver's collection, Will You Please Be Quiet, Please? is evocative of the plea made by the girl in Hemingway's 'Hills Like White ElephantsT to her partner: ' "Would you please

49Notable exceptionsinclude the novella (1952), which was followed in less than two years by his award of the Nobel Prize in 1954. 'ýoAlthough I am discussingminimalism as expressedwithin the American short story, it hasbecome commonplacein other countries.For its appearancein Frenchliterature seeWarren Motte's excellent study, W. Motte Small lVorlds: Alinimalism in French Literature (London: University of Nebraska Press,1999). See also A. WarmerRussian Alinimalism: From the Prose Poemto the Ami-Story (Studies in RussianLiterature and Theory)(Northwestern University Press,2003) for a study of minimalism in Russianform, which hasa particular and atypical definition of minimalism. " There have beenseveral articles which focus upon direct comparisonswith the work of Carver and Hemingway,for exampleGraham Clarke's comparisonof Carver's 'Pastoral' and Hemingway's 'Big Two-HeartedRiver'; see"Investing the Glimpse: RaymondCarver and the Syntaxof Silence." in G. Clark (ed.) TheNew American JI'Ming: Essayson American Literature Since 1970(New York: St. Martin's, 1990),pp. 107-111. 173

52 " -) RaymondCarver's pleaseplease please please please please stop talking? . widow TessGallagher, in her introductionto Furious Seasons,notes that the early Carver story 'The Aficionados' was a parody of Hemingwayand is a story to which I shall

turn. At twenty-four, Carverhad, felt, bullfight: '[ ]except shortly she never seena ... in Hemingway's fiction'. 53

There are more extendedcomparisons made in someof the full-length studieson

Carver.Of theseAdam Meyer makesthe most of the connectionbetween Carver and 54 Hemingway. His analysis extends to individual story comparisons, including an analysis of an early story 'Pastoral' found in Furious Seasonswhich he cal Is:

55 perhapsthe most Hemingwayesquepiece of all his works'. Comparingit to

Hemingway's 'Big Two-Hearted River', he quotes William Stull's consideration that:

'[ ] following Hemingway's practice, Carver shapesthe story as an 'iceberg', its

56 marital conflict seven-eighthssubmerged'. In a more recentdiscussion, the critic

Cynthia Hallett draws a comparison between Hemingway's and CarveCs work in a paper delivered at a Hemingway conference. She notes, amongst other things, that

'2 J. Fenton(ed. ) Ernest Ilemingway.- The CollectedStories (London: Everyman/DavidCampbell Publishers,1995), p. 202. 53W. Stu]I (ed.) RaymondCarver., No Ileroics, Please(New York: Vintage, 1991), p. 13. 54The severaldetailed analyses of the short storiesof RaymondCarver I refer to contain the following significant comparisonswith Hemingway:A. SaltzmanUnderstanding RaymondCarver (Carolina: University of SouthCarolina Press,1980), pp. 21,76-77; K. NessettThe Stories ofRaymond Carver. A CriticalStudy (Ohio: Ohio StateUniversity Press,1995), pp. 2,25,35,44,50,65-66,81,97; Meyer, A. RaymondCarver (New York: Twayne, 1995),pp. 25,44,65,72,76,81-82,86,88,162,168; E. CampbelI (ed.) ReiymondCarver. - A Studyof1he Short Fiction (New York: Twayne, 1992),pp. 3-4,8, 22,24,31-32,34,44,54,71,109,112,130-131,132,14 1; C. W. Hallett Alinimalism,and the Short Story (New York: Edwin Mellen Press,1999), pp. 12,13,15,32,36,38,51,53,57,58,59. Randolph Runyon's in-depthstudy includesonly a single passingreference to Hemingway,on p. 1, seeR. Runyon ReadingRaymond Carver (New York: SyracuseUniversity Press,1992).

Meyer, p. 8 1.

Meyer, p. 8 1. 174

in '[ ] by indirection, their work was similar that they: ... communicate suggesting 57 much by saying little'.

Despite their similarities, critics seem equally aware of their great differences. I have already drawn attention to writer Jay McInerney's work. Accepting the similarities of style, McInerney goes on to suggest that Hemingway's 'romantic idiom' made such

58 an awkward model for writers in the late 20'h century. John Aldridge, in his account of contemporaryAmerican literature,demonstrates through severalreadings the great disparity in effect, rangeand methodthat lies betweenthem, consistentlyfavouring

59 Hemingway. Carver himself may have,either consciouslyor otherwise,encouraged comparison,despite his claim that althoughhe hasread and enjoyed Hemingway,he would not considerhim an influencewhilst recognisingthe similarities in their

60 work. Yet Carver's admirationfor Hemingway's writing, if not the man, comes 61 through in his review of two Hemingwaybiographies. More generally,it is easyto seewhy any writer would try to minimise the extentto which his or her work is influencedby the work of another.

Finally, Hemingway'swork itself makesa brief cameoappearance in the story 'Night

School', where 'the other woman' of the pair whom the narratorpicks up in a bar,

57C. W. Hallet'A Clean Well Lighted Fiction: Hemingway's Poeticsand Literary Minimalism' unpublishedpaper from Modern LanguageAssociation Conference 2000, Washington,2000, p. 2. 58J. McInerneyRaymond Carver: A Still, Small Voice(The New York Times: New York, 6Ih August 1989),p. 27. 59J. Aldridge Talentsand Technicians:Literary Chic and the NewAssemblý-Line Fiction (New York: Scribner'sand Sons,1992), p. 49 andpassim. 60R. CarverFires: Essays,Poems, Stories (London: The Harvill Press,1994), p. 28. 61Stull (1991), p. 205. 175

says:' "I'd like to readHemingway and things like that [but her teacher]has us

62 like in Reader'sDigest" 9 One in Carver readingstories . of the ways which and

Hemingwaycan be usefully comparedis through their relationshipto their

contemporaryworld and especiallytheir attitudestowards women. Hemingway has

long beenvilified by feminist critics for his treatmentof women.In Our Time is no

exception.Women are either absent('A Big Two-HeartedRiver); are weak and

changeable('Mr and Mrs Elliot); or their desiresare seenas fickle and trivial ('Cat in

the Rain'). Hemingwaywas partly a product of his culture, which possessed

hegemonicpatriarchal attitudes especially towards women. Carver, too, is a product

of his culture, and hencehis storiesbear witnessto feminism,which has influenced

his attitudetoward women.63 As we shall see,Carver held a more enlightenedposition

and if not ideal, representeda positive movementtowards a more inclusive setof

beliefs. Yet, his storiesare permeatedwith marital conflict and irreconcilable relationshipdifficulties. More generally,Carver more fully embracedthe domestic, everydayworld, and it is to a context of his work I now turn.

Carver in Literary History

In this part, I would like to more precisely place the work of Carver in minimalism's history by looking at his historical and publishing context. I also explore the relationship between his work and creative writing programmes. This context is necessary becauseit develops a more refined senseof where literary minimalism

62R. Carver 9711You Please Be Quiet, Please?(London: The Harvill Press,1995), p. 72. All page numbersin the text refer to this edition. 6' 1 want to divorce minimalism from the kind of hard-drinking,womanising machismo that Hemingwayhas (sometimeserroneously, others justifiably) beenassociated with. 176

stood in the 1970s,and suggestssome of the reasonswhy it developedinto contemporaryMinimalism.

Severalcritics, including JohnAldridge, have bemoanedthe idea that Minimalist writers do not actively engagewith wider social and political issues:

[ThusJ in their isolation from the larger social issuesof their

time and their apparentblindness to their environment,these

writers seem,on the evidenceof their work, to be left with one

life [ ] But essentialsubject, the personal ... over and over again in their fiction thesewriters tend to treat the personallife as if it

were a phenomenonexisting totally apart from societywithout

connotationsthat would give it meaningful relevanceto the

generalhuman condition or dilemma.64

Whilst it is certainly true that Will YouPlease Be Quiet, Please?does not appearto deal directly and explicitly with the huge social transformationsthat were taking place in the United Statesof the 1960sand early 1970s,this doesnot meanthe storiesare without political implications.Rather, there was a shift in emphasisfrom the macro- political to the private, individual, micro-social. Howard Zinn notesthe deeply-rooted effects of the larger historical momentson the peopleof the United Statesduring the

1960s:

64Aldridge, pp. 40-41. 177

From a long-range viewpoint, something perhaps even more important

had happened[than the US losing the Vietnam war]. The rebellion

at home was spreadingbeyond the issueof the war in Vietnam.65

Carver's early work is not as much interestedin exploring the wider political reasons for that rebellion, but to discussits effects upon ordinary people.Despite the huge political, economicand social changesthat were taken placeduring its conception,I feel it is more fruitful to considerCarver's work as a reactionto the changesin the structureof Ameriqn family life. More specifically, he is interestedin the dissolution of the family and especiallymarital breakdown.

In Divorce: An American Tradition, Glenda Riley notes of the changes that took place in legislation for divorce during the 1960s and 1970s in America. In a chapter aptly entitled 'The Revolving Door' she notes one of the principal reasons why divorce becamemore easily attained:

As the century progressed, the spread of divorce affected American

Law and societyon many levels. [In 1970] California adopteda no-

fault divorce. By the early 1980s, one out of two marriages ended

66 in divorce.

15H. Zinn A People's History ofthe UniiedStates(London: Longman, 1980),p. 492. 66G. Riley Divorce: An American Tradition (New York: Oxford University Press,1991), p. 156. 178

The 'no-fault' divorce adoptedin California soonspread throughout the whole nation.

As Riley notes,by 1977,only three stateshad failed to introducethe bill: 'As divorce

increased,it becameone of the most widely studiedphenomena in the nation'.67 At the time of the writing and publication of Will YouPlease Be Quiet, Please?,divorce was an important issuein America. Of the twenty-two storiesin the collection, over half deal with divorce or the breakdownof relationshipsand evenmore hint at it.

Storieslike 'Nobody Said Anything' and 'Are TheseActual MilesT deal directly with relationshipsteetering on the edgeof failure. The title story tracesthe implicationsof a past sexualinfidelity which the central character,Ralph, hassubsequently repressed, while 'Night School' examinesthe effects of a definite separation.This was a theme that occupiedcentre stage in Carver's next major publication: What WeTaIkAbout

WhenWe Talk About Love, which continueshis interestin family strife.

It seemsCarver was able to separatehis macro-political views from his personallife and his writing. Jay Karr, who knew Carver at the beginning of his career, writes of a man politically committed:

I mean, always, under that thin membraneof the taciturn that carried

him through the ordinary obligations of the day was that volcanic

[... ] 'Mere targets: [ ] ferociously core. was a variety of ... and most

there was the Vietnam war. In that Humboldt State setting, it drove

Ray to be the [ 1.68 nearly crazy almost only anti-Vietnam militant ...

67Riley, p. 157. 68W. Stull, W. and M. Carroll RememberingRay., A ComposileBiography ofRaymond Carver (Santa Barbara:Capra Press,1993), p. 27. 179

This is seemingly quite different from Hemingway's approach. In Our Time has at its heart an aspiration to capture what it felt like to be alive in the post-First World War

United States. It is, in part, a self-consciously historical document with its concomitant historical dates and names. In doing so, it comments directly upon actual historical events, most notably the First World War.

But Carver,unlike Hemingway in 'A Big Two HeartedRiver', neveracknowledges the way war might have shapedhis charactersor their society.The readeris left to speculateif characterslike thoseof the volatile family in 'Nobody Said Anything' are left dysfunctionalby the war and its consequence.Unlike the sourceof anxiety for

Nick Adams of 'Big Two-HeartedRiver', no omissionof causeis implied by narrative 'pointers' or clues.Carver insteadseems to translatethese socio-economic problems into more local, domestic issues. When the reader learns of Al's increasingly desperate situation at the beginning of 'Jerry and Molly and Sam', it is

by his his j ] laying be hiring. caused work; employers are ... off when they should

[ ] He than though he'd been there two ... was no safer anyone else even years going on three' (111). Ultimately, his focus remains steadfastly upon the everyday lives of everyday people.

Carver and the Creative Wriling Programme If Hemingwaylearned to write thoughjournalistic experience,Carver did so through education.The prevailing interpretationof his early life seemsto suggestthat Carver appearedfrom nowhere,following a harshlife in a rural part of the mid-West, scrapingtogether enough time and moneyto fulfil eventuallyhis ambition to become a writer. Later, in what appearedto be an almost spiritual conversion,Carver gaveup 180 alcohol and begana new life with the poet Tess Gallagher.This impressionis certainly left if one considersthe few publicationson Carver's life in the absenceof a

69 full biography.

However,as Robert Rebeinpoints out, things might not be quite so simple:

For althoughRaymond Carver indeedhailed from humble origins

and experiencedmore than his fair shareof hardship- much of it self-

inflicted - he is also perhapsthe first major American writer whose

entire careerwas informed and shapedby the world of the university.70

This is perhaps an exaggeration (and even erroneous, if one thinks of Robert Lowell and Elizabeth Bishop, who, like many of their contemporaries, spent much of their careers as visiting writers on American campuses) but it does emphasise Carver's adherence to writing programmes. Carver was first a student in an undergraduate creative writing group led by the novelist John Gardner (of whom he writes affectionately in the essay 'John Gardner: The Writer as Teacher' in Fires) and later 71 as a post-graduate in a group run by Dick Day.

69The closestthere is to a biography is the collection of remembrancesand anecdotescollected in Stull and Carroll. Also useful is William Stull's 'potted biography' of Carverpublished at the following web address:http: //people. whitman. edu/-Iucetb/carver/biographyl. html. A collection of photographsalso revealsmuch of Carver's environmentBob Adelman and TessGallagher (eds. ) Carver Counlry: The World ofRaymondCarver (New York: Scribner's, 1990). 70Rcbein, Robert Hicks, Tribesand Dirty Realists:American Fiction After Posimodernism(Kentucky: The University Pressof Kentucky, 2001 ), p. 24. 1R. CarverFires: Essays,Poems, Stories (London: The Harvill Press,1994), pp. 30-53. 181

Later, he was to meet another controversial figure, Gordon Lish, who was the fiction editor at Esquire magazineand later Carver's editor.72 Carver has been accusedof being part of an empty, mass-producedliterary commodity with no lasting 73 Whatever feels in value . one about the manner which creative writing courseseffect literary standards,it is true that many of minimalism's most establishedfigures are a product of university writing courses,including Frederick

Barthelme.

If JohnAldridge's accountof the affects of the creativewriting programmeon contemporary literature is to be believed, then this would leave Carver with serious shortcomings.Aldridge endorsesan idealisedview of apprenticeshipof a young writer, which seemsto echo that of Hemingway's own beginnings:

The process by which a young person traditionally awoke to the

discovery that he had somehow become a writer was until now

always a mysterious, painful and lonely one. There had occurred

at some unknown time in the turbulence of his psychic life an

72This study doesnot havethe spaceto examinethe role Lish played in Carver's careerbut it remains controversial.Conventional wisdom suggeststhat Carver's 'epiphany' following the meetingof Tess Gallagherwas the direct causeof his writing becomingmore expansiveas he developeda more personalsense of spirituality. Othersattribute the radical transformationto the removalof Gordon Lish as his editor, who somecritics claim might have beenresponsible for the earlier, more severelypared- down style. D. T. Max's article 'The CarverChronicles' arousedsuspicions as to the exactorigin of his minimalist style, implying Lish was more responsiblethan first thought; seeD. T. Max 'The Carver Chronicles' in TheNew Eork TimesAlaga: ine, August 9,1998; http://www. nytimes.com/library/books/081098carver-mag. html. Repliesinclude D. Bowman 'Lashed by Lish' in SalonSeptember 1" 1998(see http: //www. salon.com/media/1998/09/0]media. html ) and D. Bowman 'Typing for the Dead:Carver Reviews Gordon Lish' New York Observer,November 23, 1998.For a summaryof thesearguments, including a suggestionthat Max's so-called'expoW was basedon information known for sometime in Carvercircle; seeRcbcin 2001, p. 26. 73See Aldridge, Introductionand Chapters1-3. 182

accidental conjunction of experience and temperament that brought

the discovery about. 74

According to Aldridge, this idealist view of creationhas been eroded by the emergenceof creativewriting programmes.Aldridge criticises suchprogrammes for producingtoo many works with too homogenisedinterests and themes:

But much of the fault is obviously inherent in the premise on

which creative writing programs base their function. [They

do not, as a rule, require their students to learn specific

[ ] It techniques ... would appear that the writing programs

have not yet devised a way to reproduce or incorporate into

their curricula the conditions that are best suited to the creation

of writers. 75

There has yet to be written a major study on the effects of the creative writing programme on literary minimalism. However, the notion that writing cannot be taught, as exemplified by Aldridge's account, means that those who choose pedagogy as opposed to raw experience can be considered somehow less successful, or at least less authentic. This is one of the central reasons why Minimalism, especially as a late 20'h century literary phenomenon, might be considered as a literature of impoverishment, whose paucity of means equates with a paucity of effect, as critics like Aldridge make clear. There is clearly a post-Romantic

7"Aldridge, p. 16. 75Aldridge, p. 26,28. 183 conception of the creativity in Aldridge's account. Indeed, the argument that writing can be taught successfullyis one that encompassesmuch wider ideasand debates, including those on the natureof pedagogyin teachingart and the notion of experienceand educationin the developmentof talent. Those who are taught to write possessa more artisanapproach, where the writer is more a craftsmanthan divinely inspired.

Carver's Early Fiction: 'Aficionados'and 'The Cabin' I havedrawn severalcomparisons between Hemingway and Carver and now I want to turn to how Carverabsorbed the influence in his fiction. Carver's 'The Aficionados', written underthe pseudonymJohn Vale in Humboldt's StateCollege literary magazineToyon, is one of Carver's earliest stories.Published in 1963,it pre-datesthe

1976edition of Will YouPlease Be Quiet, Please?by over a decade.Carver's minimalism was still developingand this story reflects lessof a direct influenceand more of a parody of Hemingway's style and interests.

It begins with a stereotypical scene from an imagined Hemingway story, a conversationbetween a man and a woman betweenwhich there is an underlying, but palpabletension, expressed with an impersonal,coolly detachedstyle:

They are sitting in the shadeat a small iron patio table drinking

wine out of heavy metal cups.

"Why shouldyou feel this way now?"he asksher. 184

"I don't know," shesays. It always makesme sadwhen it comes.[ ]"

She leansforward and reachesfor his hand but he is too quick for her.76

This opening exchange is reconfigured several times in this story, as they walk amongstthe streetsand rememberthe past and look, fatalistically, to the future. As they talk, they touch upon the fringes of the mysteriousevent which is not revealed until the story's final moments.Carver appearsto have greatfun by assimilatingand then subvertingHemingway's style and interests.In fact, this story cramsinto so short a spacemany of Hemingway'smost salient attributes:the useof repetition,most notably in the useof 'dirt' and 'd Usti; 77the cosmopolitanlocations; and always,the genderbattles between a fatalistic, indifferent man with a caring, potentially hysterical woman.

This culminatesin the oppositionof men to women in a literal public arena,not unlike thoseof Hemingway*sbullfights, in which a humansacrifice must be made.Its focus upon suchextreme behaviour is unlike that of the later Carver,where the commonplacereplaces the extreme.Indeed, the immediatefuture to which the story intendsis strongly subversive.The sacrifice representsin literal terms the figurative disempowermentof men by women found in suchstories such as 'The Short and

Happy Life of FrancisMacomber% Hemingway's perceivedfears of emasculation have beenfulfilled, as the man forgives his partnereven as shekills him and holds his heartto the 'lustrous' sun. In anothersense, it subvertsthe tradition of Hemingway's

76 Stull (2000), p. 150. 77Stull (2000), pp. 150-153. 185 gender relationships by sacrificing the male and in so doing, empowering the woman, in a final and most brutal of acts.

'The Aficionados' has a 'trick' ending favoured by 0. Henry and typical of the conventionaltale, which, subvertsconvention by making the man the victim of the woman.As a parody it is a raw exampleof how Hemingwaymight have influenced

Carver and as such its usefulnessis limited. But it is an importantdocument neverthelessbecause it showshow, by parodying specific elementsof his style and themes,Carver soughtto write outsideof Hemingway's influential shadow.This progression follows, in an equally coarse and basic manner, through Harold Bloom's path away frorn the anxiety of influence: to assimilateand then disposeof those

78 6strong' writers to which one might be particularly indebted.

Another of Carver's early storiesprovides a firm basisfor comparingHemingway 9 with Carver. Carverclaimed that 'Pastoral' was his first publishedstory. Although it was left out of Will YouPlease Be Quiet, Please?,it did find its way into a later collection, Furious Seasons,and finally becameanthologised in Fires where it is reprintedas 'The Cabin', and this is the version I would like to discusshere.

78H. Bloom TheAnxiety ofInfluence: A TheoryofPoetry (New York: OUP, 1997).The sacrificial ending also parodiesD. H. Lawrence's'The Woman Who RodeAway'. 79See Campbell, p. 4. 186

In his essayon Carver's minimalism, Michael Trussler notes:

Carver is even more "minimalist" than his mentor, Hemingway.

Comparing [ ] 'A Big Two-Hearted River: 11' [ ] [ ] ...... to ...

'The Cabin', [the critic M. M. Clarke] finds that Carver's story

undercuts the mythological and symbolic unity he perceives to be

in the Hemingway. [ ] Carver's fiction present ...

"deconstructs the codifying myths even as it re-inscribes them

80 into their a context which exposes pretensions to significance" .

The story is a lamentfor a history that might have neverexisted. As such,it is an oblique referenceto a fictional pastthat seemsstrangely out of kilter with the present.

In a telling detail, Carver seemsto be suggestingthat the storiesof the Native

Americans,who appearedso regularly in severalof Hemingway'sshort stories,have now beenconsigned to history, strippedof their mystery and cultural vitality. The almost passingdetail of the FrederickRemington reproduction, which shows

'Indians' hunting buffalo, representstheir assimilation into a contemporarycultural artefact.81 The picture is a metaphorfor the kind of outdatedbelief in the Old West associated(correctly or not) with Hemingway"sfiction, which itself, (as Jay

McInerney hasmade clear), is an outmodedidiom for the expressionof the final decadesof the 20"' century. The vandalisedgarage which Harrold seesis a literal 82 reminderof the destructionof the past,a notion that pre-emptsthe denouement.

'0 Campbell,pp. 103-104. "' Stull, William (ed.) Rqrmond Carver: No Heroics, Please (New York: Vintage, 1991), p. 146 12Stull (199 1), p. 146. 187

Harrold recognises,during a momentof epiphanythat anticipatesmuch of Carver's later method,that the loss of his fishing rod representsthe deeperloss of something heroic, which neverthelessexisted only in his nostalgic reveriesof a fantasticalpast.

Ewing Campbellquotes from an interview in which Carver revealshow objects in

'The Cabin' might be interpreted:83

This might meanincluding as part of the scenea television

felt-tipped lying desk,but [ I or a table or a pen on a ... thesethings [ ] be inert [ ] You ... shouldn't ... want to give them someweight, connectingthese things to the lives aroundthem. I seethe objects

as playing a 'role' in the stories.84

The rod has a dual role. In a Freudian reading, it may represent the phallus and so determine a diminished sexual drive or proclivity. It may also function (and especially significant in terms of a comparison with Hemingway), as symbol of a hunter, a fisherman who has lost his rod and is impotent as a huntsman. As I hope to show in the following chapter, stories such as 'Nobody Said Anything' explode the myth of the heroic hunter. Indeed, it is Carver's assimilation and the rejection of many of

Hemingway's most salient attributes as a writer that provides the most illustrative comparison of their minimalist narrative techniques.

" For a detailedreading of this story and its placewithin the developmentof Carver's method,see Campbell,pp. 4-8.

84 Campbell,p. 6. 188

ChoosingWill You PleaseBe Quiet, Please? I am interestedin emergentforms of minimalism in the early writing careersof all threewriters and Will YouPlease Be Quiet, Please?more than any other demonstrates this style in its development.Like Carver, Hemingwayand Barthelme'soutput is not uniformly minimalist. In the exampleof Hemingway,works like the late 'Winner

Take Nothing' reject many of the central tenetsof his earlier, minimalist approach.A similar caseapplies to FrederickBarthelme, whose first collection Moon Deluxe

(1983) differs in themeand style, albeit subtly, to his later work Chroma (1987).

Second,I focus on publicationsdesigned by the writer as single, coherentvolumes.

Carver's major publicationsare: Will YouPlease Be Quiet,Please?, What lye Talk

About WhenMe Talk About Love, Cathedral andElephani8s. (I haveexcluded

Furious Seasons,which althoughearly, it hasbeen unpublished for severalyears, is

difficult 86Finally, I interestedin extremely to obtain). am the experimental,avant- gardequality of emergentminimalism. I find the consistentinterest in formal experimentalismto be of central interestin my analysis.Hemingway, Carver and

Barthelmewere finding their voices in their early fiction. Therewere several experiments,more or lesssuccessful, that were to characteriseminimalism as an aestheticin the early fiction. This suits my definition of minimalism as experimental writing. That is not to say that I ignore the later work. In the caseof Carverthere is much to be learntfrom looking at his later writing as a meansof testing how his

85Fires: FEsseTs,Poems, Stories is a collection of essays,poems and storieswhich borrows from previousvolumes. It is not an original collection of short fiction. However, like 'Where I'm Calling From', it doescontain severalstories not found elsewhere;'The Lie' and 'Harry's Death', 'The Pheasant','Where is EveryoneT 16However, of the eight storiesthat compriseFurious Seasons,we can piecetogether much of the collection if we look for thosestories published elsewhere. For example,Where I'm Calling From includesthe stories'Distance' and 'So Much Water So Closeto Home'. Fires contains'The Lie' and 'The Cabin' (originally entitled 'Pastoral' in Furious Seasons).Finally, Call If YouNeed Afe publishes the title story, 'Furious Seasons'. 189 minimalist style is in evidence,and a comparisonof both earlier and later periodsis highly revealingfor both.87

Adam Meyer supports the assertion that Carver's early output is a more extreme example of minimalism in that Carver's oeuvre is best represented by the figure of an hour-glass rather than an inverted pyramid. By this he means that Carver began his career with an open, loose style that converged into the extreme minimalism we find in What We TalkAbout When We TalkAbout Love, only to further loosen the

in 88 minimalist style Cathedral. The minimalism aesthetic - present in the style of the pared down sentences,absent or thin use of figurative language, and a sustained interest in dialogue - are present and unsurpassedin terms of their sometimes extreme minimalist method.

Hemingway's legacy was so powerful that it was said to have left many American writers with a choice of whether to write like him or not. Most chose not to, perhaps becausethey feared being considered unoriginal or becausehis style was considered to be so complete that nothing of value could be added. During the period between publication of In Our Time and [Vill You Please Be Quiet, Please?, post-modern fiction was beginning to become the dominant form of short story style and minimalism can be considered as a reaction against this. In this chapter, I have shown how Hemingway's style was no longer suitable for the expression of a post-World

" The comparisonsbetween minimalist and non-minimalistwritings from the samewriter are an invaluableway of discoveringjust what constitutesand sustainsthis method.But ultimately, it is my goal to settle upon a collection of minimalist writing for eachwriter and comparethem. 811Extreme minimalism might be said to refer to an even more reductivemethod, where the elementsof style are further pareddown. Most commonly, it refersto the pessimism,the concisecharacterisation, and the tendencyto streamlineplots until they are presenton in their basicelements. 190

War 11society with its emphasisupon a heroic individualism, and insteadwriters like

JohnCheever chose to look closerto home for their inspiration,finding abundant material in the very homes,streets and suburbswhere they lived. This, in turn, can be seenin the work of Carverwho wrote aboutthe lives of ordinary peopleduring the backdropof the Vietnam War. In the next chapter,I want to examinemore closely

Carver's relationshipwith Hemingway's minimalist style, to demonstratehow he developedor rejectedsome of thoseelements which madeHemingway's style so difficult to copy, and in doing so, suggestsome of the ways in which Carver's minimalist style equivocatesand so solicits the responsefrom the reader.

The ability to draw a distinction betweenthose texts that invite the readerto respond actively and thosethat merely demanda passivereception of ideashave been made by severalcritics, as I havenoted in the introduction. It might various be called the distinction betweenan 'open' and 'closed' text, or one that, more specifically in the ideasof Iser, one that helpscreate interpretative equivocation. 191

CHAPTER THREE

RaymondCarver's Will YouPlease Be Quiet, Please?

Seeing and Being Seen

RaymondCarver's Will YouPlease Be Quiet, Please?demonstrates how the minimalist style solicits the potential for a demanding reader engagement; and as an extremeexample of the minimalist style it forcefully suggestsways in which less might becomemore. I demonstratethis by a thoroughgoingcomparison to

Hemingway'sIn Our Time.Carver develops and extendsHemingway's tendencyfor equivocationby renegotiatingthe relationshipbetween writer, readerand text.

Carvercontributes several important aspectsto literary minimalism and I touch upon someof them here. In the first sectionon the narrator's contribution to the minimalist aesthetic,I explorethe ways in which Carver extendsthe notion of an absentnarrator by suggestingthe reader(and writer) is a voyeur, necessarilyimplicated in the creationof the narrative.This is a methodthat, like Hemingway's,draws the reader into taking part in the active creationof the narrative.Carver's central contribution to minimalist equivocationwas his iriterestin the everydayobject as a significant elementin revealing important,suggestive details of the characterswithin the stories. 192

I analysethis in the secondsection, on figurative languageand touch upon it again in the final sectionon realism,which discussesCarver's interestin everydayreality.

Betweenfigurative languageand realism, I discussperhaps Carver's most vital contribution to minimalism; his interpretationof epiphanyas a meansof subverting conventionalreading patterns. Typically, the epiphanyoffers an insight which might help resolvethe problemsof the narrativebut Carver's doesnot, suggestingonly the possibility of an undiscussedchange. I arguethis device createsinterpretative equivocationand, like so many of effects createdby Carver's style, one that demand

'more' from the 'less' that Carver appearsto offer. 193

Part One: The Narrator as Voyeur

In the first chapter,I notedhow Hemingway's third-pcrsonnarrator was absent, refusingto commentupon or evaluatethe narrativeand insteadaspired to be a merely objective, distanced reporter of events. This narrator's perspective created the effect that the readerhad to engagemore critically with the narrative,given there were fewer clues as to what it might meanbecause an authoritativecommentary was missing.

Carveruses a similar narrative perspectivein severalof his stories.For example,the openingof 'They're Not Your Husband'reflects the disappointmentand isolation of the protagonistEarl Ober without explicitly stating it:

Earl Ober was betweenjobs as a salesman.But Doreen,his wife, had

gone to work nights as a waitress at a twenty-four-hour coffee shop

at the edgeof town. One night, while he was drinking, Earl decided

to stop by the coffee shopand have somethingto cat.

'What are you doing hereT Doreen said when she saw him sitting there.

'Any chanceof, you knowT he said to her and winked.

" 'No, " shesaid. 'Don't talk to me now. I'm busy.

1R. Carver Will YouPlease he Quiet, Please?(London: The Harvill Press,1995), p. 16. All subsequent pagenumbers within the text refer to this edition. 194

The effect of the interactionis found largely in dialogue and Doreen'sobvious irritation is evident in her curt speech:the readerunderstands how she feels becauseit is shown in their interaction.However, unlike Hemingway in In Our Time, Carver doesnot exclusively usethe third-personabsent narrator. For example,in the opening of 'Neighbors', the narratorexplicitly and unequivocallytells us how the characters feel:

Bill and Arlene Miller were a happy couple. But now and then they felt

they aloneamong their circle had beenpassed by somehow,leaving

Bill to attendto his bookkeepingduties and Arlene occupiedwith

[ ] It Millers Stoneslived secretarialchores ... seemedto the that the

a fu I ler and brighter Ii fe. (6)

We havedirect accessinto a character'slife through the useof suchterms as 'felt' and 'passed by'. However, the difference between Hemingway"s and Carver's third- person narrator is one of a degree of absence.Although Carver does not strip his third-person narrators of evaluation, his narrative serves to contextualise the emotions of his characters, a method that is similar to Hemingway's in that little of significance is revealedby commentary.More often, the narratorassumes a passiverole, keento

4overhear'or 'glimpse' the action that actually demonstratesthe story's significance.

All of the pivotal eventsof the narrativeare describedwithout commentary.The denouementof this story is expressedwithout authorial intervention: 195

"Don't worry," he said into her ear. "For God's sake,don't worry."

They stayedthere. They held eachother. They leanedinto the door

as if againsta wind, and bracedthemselves. (11)

This techniqueresembles Hemingway's in that the focus remainson the telling details

of behaviour,rather than an insightful descriptionof their mental state.Until now,

Hemingwayand Carvercoincide in their useof detachednarrative perspectives.

However,where Carver and Hemingway begin to differ is in the greatvariety of

narrativeidioms that Carverbrings to his fiction. From the unnamed,candid first-

person'confessional' of 'Fat', to the third-personnarrative that neverthelessassumes the perspectiveof its centralcharacter, or focalisesthrough her, as can be found in

'The Student'sWife'; and finally to the more traditional third-persondetached

narratorof 'Neighbors', Will YouPlease Be Quiet, Please?is more flexible, more experimental in the uses of the narrator.

One of the more refreshing consequencesof Carver's intention to explore many perspectivesin his fiction is that it gives women charactersa voice in a way that is clearly absentfrom Hemingway's fiction. As I havesuggested in ChapterThree, this was in line with his interestin domesticpolitics and the influenceof the women's rights movementsin the 1960s.Conversely, in ChapterTwo, I havetouched upon the apparentmisogyny found in many of Hemingway's stories,such as 'The End of

Something'and 'A Cat in the Rain. This most often took the form of removing their voices from the stories.There are no women narratorsin his short stories.Carver's 196 work beginsto addressthis. The first story in the collection, 'Fat' is told by a woman, and later, womenalso narrate'The Idea' and 'Why, I-Ioney?'. In somecases, although a femalecharacter does not narratethe story, the story is focalisedthrough a woman.

The impersonalnarrator, so highly prized by Hemingwayand developedby Carver, doesnot interveneto underminesuch focalisation.An exampleis 'The Student's

Wife', in which Nan's increasingdesperation is the focus.The vignette-like 'The

Father' is told in an impersonal,gender-free idiom but the voicesthat dominatetile narrativeare thoseof the three women, Phyllis, Carol and Alice.

The difficulty in assumingthe perspectiveof anotherperson is one that thematically interestedCarver, as is found in the attentionpaid to the perspectivesin 'Put Yourself in My Shoes'.Where Hemingway wanted to explorethe changingconsciousness of one character- Nick Adams - over a period of time, Carver, instead,wants to explore the perspectivesof severaldifferent charactersover a single period. The accusation, madeby some,that Carver*swork is too parochial,concerned only with working class,white Americansin the late 20thcentury forgetsthe primary strategythat Carver aspiresto; to capture,with fidelity, the lives of others.

Equally significant is the notion that, unlike Hemingway'sIn Our Time, Will You

PleaseBe Quiet, Please?employs a great variety of first-personnarrative perspectives;the womannarrator of 'Fat' and the epistolary 'Why, Honey?'; the young boy in 'Nobody Said Anything'; and the elderly man in 'What Do You Do in

SanFranciscoT. Suchan array of disparatecharacters bring a variety of first-person 197 perspectives.In termsof the useof first-personnarrators, the overall effect is unlike

Hemingway's stable,infon-ned but distancednarrators, as thosein Will YouPlease Be

Quiet,Please? often havean intimate relationshipwith the eventsof the narrative.

Their narratives,then, may be fairly consideredto encouragea readingstrategy of a different kind. I havediscussed how the first-personaccount often focuseson developmentof the narrator'scharacter. But the first-personnarrator in Carver's work is not subj. ect to sucha method,and doesnot commenton themselvesor their environment.They aspiretowards a narrativeabsence, despite their placewithin the narrative,as this examplefrom 'What Do You Do In SanFranciscoT shows:

The fist few weeksthere was no mail to speakofjust a few circulars,

from Searsand WesternAuto and the like. Then a few lettersbegan to

come in, maybe one or two a week. Sometimes I'd see one or the other

of them out aroundthe housewhen I cameby and sometimesnot. But

the kids were always there, running in and out of the house or playing

in the vacantlot next door. (86)

The postmanremembers his round in detail but without overt commentary.As the exampleshows, it is possibleto havea first-personnarrative without an intrusive, explanativenarrative voice which constrainsthe reader'sinterpretation. Characters seemeither unwilling or unableto commentupon their situation of themselves,and their inarticulacy anticipatesa trend in minimalism for its charactersto be sketches, their motives and desiresunexplained, their articulacy perhapstheir most salient 198 aspect. Yet Carver goes beyond this notion to suggest something more problematic in the relationshipbetween author, text and reader.lie introducesthe idea of the reader and writer as a voyeur and in doing so transformsthe ways in which his fiction demandsto be read.

Voyeurismis presentedas a themeof the storiesthrough which the readeris made awarethat his or her relationshipis implicitly similar to thosewho do the watchingin the stories.As a themeit is abundantand varied in the collection.The storiesthat most immediatelysuggest voyeurism are 'The Idea' and 'Neighbors', found togetherat the beginningof the collection.Yet voyeurismcan be found in a more covert form without a diminishedeffect. 'They're Not Your Husband'takes voyeurism as its cue for action as Earl Ober watchescustomers in the restaurantwho in turn watch his wife as she works as a waitress. The first-person narrator of 'What Do You Do in San FranciscoT is essentiallya voyeur,who observesthe behaviourof residentson his postalroute by readingthe addresseson their lettersand throughthe brief glimpseshe hasof them as he deliversthe mail. It is a self-consciouslyliterary story,which, like 'Fat' and 'Put

Yourself in My Shoes",provides a commentaryupon the act of readingand writing.

Carverswitches the perspectivein 'Are TheseActual MilesT. Here,Leo is watchedby his neighbourErnest Williams, as he desperatelytries to find his way out of bankruptcy.

Finally, in perhapsthe most sustainedexample of self-observationin the collection,the gazeis turnedupon the charactersthemselves. Arnold Breit watcheshimself in the mirror, as he undergoesthe beginningsof an epiphanyin 'Are You a Doctor?'; the mirror alsoprovides the locusfor A] in 'Molly and Jerry and Sam', as he considershis behaviourimmoral when he finally faceshimself, literally andmetaphorically, in the 199 mirror. In this section,I want to discussthe narratoras voyeur and in doing so outline how Carverimplicates his readersin the narrator'sacts of voyeurism.

TheReader as Voyeur Will YouPlease Be Quiel, Please?aspires to illuminate the ways in which the reader, writer and charactersare all voyeurs in one form or another.My overall aim is to demonstratehow interpretationis affectedby the conceptof the readeras voyeur. The first step is to understandCarver's definition of a voyeur. Here, Carver foregrounds the idea of voyeurismas an active experiencewhich must be consideredan activity in its own right. It is not merely the passiveobservation of the object but an experience which one undergoes,which deserves- and in Carver's collection, receives- detailed discussion.In their study of voyeurism in Will YouPlease Be Quiet,Please?, Boxer and Phillips make this idea clear:

Looking itself becomes experience, not merely vicarious experience.

It is a transfon-ningact, one which changesthe characterof that which

is seen.This notion is operative,in different ways, both for the

reader,whose understanding of the text is tied to his own way of

perceiving,and for the writer, who takeshis observationsand shapes

them as he wills. 2

' D. Boxer and C. Philips 'Will You PleaseBe Quiet, Please?:Voyeurism, Dissociationand the Art of RaymondCarver' Iowa ReviewVol. 10 1980(3), p. 79. 200

The focus of examinationhas shifted not to what is being watched,although that is important,but who is doing the watching - and how. This notion is exploredin arguablythe collection's most explicit treatmentof voyeurism, 'The Idea'. This is achievedthrough the useof 'double-voyeurism',where one voyeur watchesanother.

This enablesCarver to analysethe role of someonewatching someoneelse and in implication, the role of the reader.Here, the processof 'double voyeurism' is aligned to the act of reading,where a readerwatches the authorwatching a character.By re- negotiatingthe relationshipbetween reader and story, Carver implicateshis readerin the creationof its meanings,most notably by appealingto the reader'smoral principles.

In this story, the unnamednarrator and her husbandVern settledown most nights to seeif their neighbourswill begin their elaborateforeplay: the neighbourgoes onto the porch and watcheshis wife undressingas a preludeto sex. Without the narratorand her husband'sdetermined approach, they might miss the spectacle:'If I hadn*tbeen watching, I wouldn't have seen him'(12), reveals their active participation in the event. Yet the object of their observation is not the focus of the story, nor the source of its meaning.Rather, it is the discussionof voyeurismas a performativeact madeby the couple who watch their neighbours,which occupiescentre stage in this story.

The narratWsevaluation of the effect of their participationin this voyeuristic'circle' is ambivalent.The narratornotes that shefeels certain that her husbandenjoys it: 'Vern's a little emban-assedabout watching, I think. But I know he enjoysit. He's saidso' (12). 201

However,she also confesses that it makesthem 'jumpy' (14) andtheir uneasymeal and the eventsthat follow confirm their 'dis-ease'.That they kneelto watch impliesa senseof the stealthand ensures she cannot be seen,but is alsoevocative of the reverentialquality of their voyeurism. It certainly representsa significant mornent in their relationship.

Yet when sheconsiders being watched herself by someoneelse, her reactionis

'Anybody looking in [ ] have aggressiveand unreserved: comes my window ... they'll the copson them.Except maybe Cary Grant'(14). But in her confessionthat shehas a strongappetite for food 'about this time of night' having watchedthe voyeuristic spectacle,she implies that it hasstimulated her sexually.As such,this aligns her to the couplewhom sheseems to disparage.The sexualelement of voyeurismis revealing, becauseit suggeststhat the seeminglyimpotent narrator and Vern projecttheir sexual desireonto food; their suddenchange of appetitecan be linked to a changein the sexual dynamic.When Vern tells her that he would preferto eatcornflakes and brown sugar ratherthan the extensivefeast she has laid beforehim, he consequentlyreveals a great deal abouthis sexualproclivity, and more specifically,his flagging desirefor her.

Watching,or reading,is an act of consumption,based upon desire.

Finally, her disgustoverflows into a metaphorthat suggeststhe consumingpotential of the couplethat live next door: 'Someday,I'm going to tell that trash what I think of her' (13). Notably, her accusationis levelled againstthe woman,the object of the gaze,not the voyeur and her disgustaimed at a threat from outside.It is not altogether surprisingthat her aggressionshould turn to the woman, sinceshe is being sexually exhibitionist and gratified in a way that the narrator isn't. The narratorhas managed to repressher desireto watch and so distanceherself from her own obsessivevoyeurism. 202

However,the connectionbetween those who watch and are watchedis closer than she realises:both sheand the voyeur connectas they simultaneouslyturn on all the lights in the house,reminiscent of the openingsection of the story, where the house'blazes' with light; with the lights on, the watchercan potentially becomethe watched.Here, the light representsboth the suddenclarity of vision but also the inability to hide as her complex implication within her neighbour'svoyeurism has beenexposed.

'The Idea' foregroundsvoyeurism as a way of readingCarver's stories.In this approach,the readerplays an active part in the experience,just as Vern and the narratordo in their watching of their neighbours.Conventionally, the readermight considerhis or herselfa passivereceptor of events- as the narratordoes at the beginningof the story - but as the 'light blazes' the reader,like the narrator,has been exposedas intimately linked with what they are watching. Indeed,the narrator-I ike the reader- createsthe specific experienceof seeingand being seenthrough their observation.Carver, through the processof the narrator*sself-realisation, reminds the readerof the impossibility of a neutral position in observation.He suggeststhat, just as the narratorcreates her own interpretation,impressions and signif icanccbased upon her observationsof the voyeur, then the readertoo brings his or her responsesto the interpretationof the narrative.By taking part in the processof watching, reading becomesa creativeprocess rather than a passiveone. In doing so, Carver is laying out his foundationsfor what is essentiallya theory of readerresponse and what beganas a referenceto the notion of presumption,the story's title 'The Idea' now points to somethingmore fundamental:the 'idea' is the way in which Carver's fiction adopts the voyeur as a readingstrategy. 203

What Carver doesin the story is underminethe notion of an absolutelyobjective observation.He doesso by transformingthe narrator's voyeurism from a comfortable, stableperspective into an unravelling,disjointed disequilibrium. This is both an implicit criticism of Hemingway'sabsent narrator, a position which Carver's stories suggestis untenable,and of the narratorof traditional realism.Carver is implicitly interrogatingthe relationshipbetween what is seenand who is seeing;or, by extension,between the readerand the text. In doing so, he implicatesthe readerinto the story with a third act of voyeurism,for the reader(like the man who watcheshis wife and the narratorwho, in turn, watcheshim in 'The Idea') observesthis intimate situation.As such,the readerbecomes necessarily implicated in what he or she observes,rather than remain comfortably distant from it. Despitetheir fundamentally different approach,both Hemingway's and Carver's narratordemand the engagement of the readerby, in Carver's case,omitting the primacy of third-person,absent omniscientnarrators.

'Fat' is anotherstory aboutseeing and being seen,and like 'The Idea' representsin its thematic interestan analogybetween the act of readingand an act of voyeurism.

Carver introducesa characterwho is symbolic of the readerwho is intent on finding a completeclosure at the end of a narrative,but who hasher expectationsthwarted by a narratorwho suggeststhat change,not stability, is revealed.When the unnamed narratorfinishes telling her story of the fat man dining, her colleagueRita seemsat first expectantthen disappointedby its irresolution: 204

What else?Rita says,lighting one of my cigarettesand pulling her

chair closer to the table. The story's getting interesting now, Rita says.

That's it. Nothing else.(4)

Later, having relayedthe story about feeling fat when in bed with Rudy, the narrator remarks:

That's a funny story, Rita says,but I can seeshe doesn't know

what to makeof it.

I feel depressed. But I won't go into it with her. I've already told

her too much.

Shesits there waiting, her dainty fingers poking her hair.

Mailingfor it,hal? I'd like to know. (5)

it is significant that this story, with its implicit criticism of traditional interpretative strategies,appears at the beginningof the collection. Carver seemsto be pre-empting the idea that thesestories wi II not conform to conventionalstructures: the readerthat waits for the conclusionto appearclearly at the end and tie up the looseinterpretative endswill be, like Rita, left waiting. Moreover, Carver seemshostile to sucha reader, or leasttheir readings.Rita's 'dainty fingers' that are 'poking her hair' suggest 205 somethingof a self-interestedabsorption, a superficial gesturewhich showsher more concernedwith her appearancethan her colleague'scandid and intimate story. That the narratorregrets that 'she hastold her [Rita] too much already' seemsto confirm that this anecdote,although hugely significant for the narrator,is merely another, albeit puzzling and flawed story for her audience.At the outsetof this collection,

Carver seemsto be outlining the ways in which he hopeshis storieswill be read in light of the subversionof conventionalexpectations.

It is not until the treatmentof this themein the largely self-referentialstory 'Put

Yourself In My Shoes'that the ideabecome more explicit. Myers, like Carver(indeed the nameis suggestiveof their closeproximity as his namebegins with the personal pronoun'My'), hadworked in a publishinghouse and is attemptingto write a novel.

Finding himself an outsiderin the festivecelebrations, he receivesa call from his partnerPaula, inviting him out for a drink. Eventuallyhe reluctantlyagrees to visit the

Morgans,a couplewhom, the readerlearns later, they rentedan apartmentfrom. The suggestionthat Myers beinga writer might revealsomething about the writing process is confirmedwhen talk turnsto stories.There are four narrativesthat are directly presentedas smallerstories rather than occurrencesin the plot, or sub-narratives,in this story. This is a methodwhich Carverwould employ throughouthis careerand equally successfullyin the next volume(especially in the title story) Whatlye TaIkAbout When

WeTalk About Love. The first sub-narrativeis told by Paulaas sherelates the story of the suicideof a mutualacquaintance. Myers considersher story:

[] He tried to rememberLarry Gudinasand recalleda tall, stooped 206

man with wire-frame glasses,bright ties, and a recedinghairline. fie

could imaginethe jolt, the headsnapping back.

"Jesus," Myers said. "Well, I'm sorry to hearthat. " (97)

It is too simplistic to suggestthat the narrator is a complete reflection of the author. However, Carver here seemsto suggestthat this method of observation- to collect carefully the small, objective details of external appearanceand cause and effect, a method resembling Hemingway's and Carver's own - are at least suitable methodsfor writing fiction. That the narrative demonstratesan empathy with Myers, particularly following his confrontation with the Morgans, is evidence of Carver's bias toward Myers, and the narrative is focalised through him. The second sub-narrative is related by Edgar Morgan and concerns the story of a domestic affair concerning the end of marriage, which is concluded by an incredible event:

But just as the fellow was leaving, his son threw a can of tomato soup

at him and hit it in the forehead.It causedquite a concussionthat sent

the man to hospital.The condition is quite serious.(103)

Edgar Morgan's idiom is quite different from Myers and is deliberatelycomposed in opposition, in the samemanner that Hemingway soughtto revealgreat significance through the configurationof suchoppositions. His story is told with prevarication, 207 commentaryand hyperbole;it was a 'torrid' affair aboutwhich 'You can imagine' how 'fool' inevitably "[ ] On day it in the woman seemed to act: ... that - was the evening- he announcedto his wife - they'd beenmarried for twenty years- he announcedto his wife that he wanteda divorce." (103). It is reminiscent,albeit in parody,of a hectoringmoralism, where the narratorattempts to imposehis values upon the narrative.Carver, by implicitly comparingnarrative idioms in examples from both Myers and Edgar Morgan, is suggestingthat he favoursthe methodfor all the reasonsthat the Edgar Morgan is bad: it is pompous,heavy-handed, imbued with self-congratulatorycommentary and is overly theatrical.

In the third sub-narrative,Myers can no longer keep his opinions submerged.Here, he listensto Edgarrelate the story of the women whom the couple met in Germany.This strangerreturns Mrs. Morgan's purseand then promptly dies on the couch.Myers beginsto laugh uncontrollably:

"is that funny, sir? *' Morgan said. "Do You find that amusing?"-

Myers nodded.fie kept laughing.fie wiped his eyeson his shirt sleeve.

[]I can't help it. That line 'Fate sent her to die on the couchofour

living room in Germany.Tm sorry. (108) 208

His laughterreveals contempt for the kind of carefully concludeddenouement which resolvesa narrative in a single phrase,the 'punch line'. If Carver is making this story an edict for an understandingof his fiction, the subtextis that there will be no easy interpretationsto his stories,unlike Morgan's conventionallyresolved tales. However, it is not until the final sub-narrativethat Myers revealshis tendencytowards distanced observation,a form of 'artistic voyeurism', which renegotiatesthe relationship betweenwriter, readerand text. Having listenedto EdgarMorgan's heavy-handedand misplacedaccusation of his guests,(which saysmuch more about him than it does aboutMyers and Paula),the couple leaveto drive home:

"Those peopleare crazy," Paulasaid.

Myers patted her hand.

"They were scary," she said.

He did not answer. Her voice seemed to come to him from a great

distance.He kept driving. Snow rushedat the windshield. He was

silent and watchedthe road. He was at the very end of a story. (I 10)

in Myers, and by implication Carver's, model the processof creationbegins with a careful observationof events.The hyperboleof 'crazy' and 'scary' is meaninglessin their distancefrom Myers, who prefersthe concreteworld of appearanceand significant detail to hyperbolic imaginings.As such,he is cast in the role as a voyeur, carefully watching his subject.Carver seemsto suggestthat the writer is like a 209 voyeur, who overhearsor glimpsesthe sourceof the story from somedistance.

Moreover,by favourablycomparing Myers' methodto Morgan's, he outlines a theory of fiction which the title of the collection might encapsulate:Will YouPlease Be

Quiet, Please?Here, Myers is able to createa story carefully observinganother story, that of Morgan's. But he doesso by rejecting it, in the samemanner that Carver rejectsthe overblown, self-importantand closednarrative of traditional tales.The themeof the story, like in 'The Idea' is suggestiveof Carver's method.

The postmanin 'What Do You Do in San Francisco?' is, like EdgarMorgan, held up for scrutiny to revealmore aboutthe readingprocess. Here, a more obliquely self- referential form of voyeurism can be found. The postalworker Henry Robinsontells the story of a couplewho live along his postal route. His voyeurisrntakes the form of speculatingupon the addressesand routing of their mail, listening to local gossipand through brief observationsand infrequentand fragmentedconversations with them.

Unlike the voyeursin 'The Idea, however,he allows himself to intervenewith the subjectsof his observation.The postmanconstructs a moral commentaryon the lives of other characterswhich the story refusesto validate. Having cometo various conclusionsabout the couple,he meetsthe man along his route and:

I called out, "She's no good, boy. I could tell you that the minute I

saw her. Why don't you forget her? Why don't you go to work and

forget her? What haveyou got againstwork? It was work, day and

night, work that gave me oblivion when I was in your shoes"(88) 210

In his outburst,Robinson demonstrates an essentialprinciple of the reader's relationshipwith the characters.This is a warning for thosewho think they can fully understandsomeone by 'reading letters' about them and cometo firm conclusions aboutwhat they shoulddo. 'Reading letters' is Carver's most explicit representation of the readingprocess and thereforethis story asksthe readernot to be too judgmental in the moral lives of the charactersthey readespecially when basedupon the incompleteevidence of the story before them. The idea that one should notjudge but understandwas a foundationof Hemingway's fiction and in this critically neglected, but highly significant story it is suggestivethat there will be no easyanswers in

Carver's fiction.

There is an significant twist in the relationshipbetween voyeur and subjectin the story 'Are TheseActual MilesT. Here, the narrativeperspective is Leo's, who waits for his wife Toni to return from selling their car in a desperatebid to rescuethem from bankruptcy.A neighbourErnest Williams hasbeen watching Leo and the story reveals how Williams had caught Leo in a presumed infidelitY:

Once, last winter, during the holidays, when Toni and the kids were

visiting his mother's, Leo brought a woman home.Nine o'clock

the next morning, a cold foggy Saturday,Leo walked to the wornan's

car, surprisedErnest Williams on the sidewalk with a newspaperin his 211

hand. Fog drifted, Ernest Williams stared, then slapped the paper against

his leg, hard. (15 1)

Williams' accidentalvoyeurism transforms him into a deliberatevoyeur, who is keen to watch andjudge Leo. At one stage,his contemptfor Leo is clear as he spits when he watchesthem. From Leo's perspective,this addsto his unease:someone close by knows somethinghe doesnot want them to know. It also addsan irony to the story of

Toni's presumedinfidelity as Leo hashimself beenunfaithful. In the denouement,

Williams' appearanceis representedby a light going on and the shadesrolling up, a reminder of the light that burnsthroughout the housein 'The Idea'. His presence reminds Leo that his behaviour has not been morally upright. In light of my reading of

'What Do You Do in San FranciscoT, this might be an indication that the reader should notjudge those until he hasjudged him or herself (a principle reminiscent of

Hemingway9s aspiration towards a moral non-judgement). It is notable that the reader might feel that thejudgement made by Williams is more valid than that made by the postman, given that Williams does not interfere as he keeps his judgement more or less to himself.

By fusing the readerand the author,Carver is effectively reducingthe distance betweenthe two. Goneare the over-arching,omniscient modes of expressionof

Hemingway's narratorand havebeen replaced by a writer who, like the reader,is merely a voyeur of events.It is a questionof privilege and by reducingthe writer into a mere spectatorCarver is aligning the writer to the reader,as voyeurs.As such, it 212

seemsimpossible that sucha writer could provide the kind of commentarythat

preventsthe readerfrom an active, sustainedinterpretative act. Furthermore,the

readeris placed in a privileged position in this narrative.The reader'srole as voyeur

is aligned to that of Williams, as the readerknows somethingthat Toni doesnot: that

Leo has beenunfaithful. The readerhas become like Williams, intent upon watching

from afar, in their ability to know thosethings that the characterscannot know. The voyeur learnsthrough observationbut what he or she learnsis intimately involved in the character'slives. Carver is imposinglimits upon the role of interpretationby discussingand encouraginga specific moral imperativeas part of the strategyhe wishes the readerto take. This interpretativestrategy coincides with an interestin moral behaviourin his stories.Or rather,with an interestin how moral valuesmight shift if one is the observedor the observer.In the last sectionof this discussionof voyeurism, Carver turns the gazeupon itself.

Voyeurism and Self-Insight In 'Are You A DoctorT, Carver uses a form of self-observation aligned to voyeurism to reveal the inner thoughts and motives of Arnold Breit, the central character. The two occasions that Arnold stares into the mirror are hugely revealing of his self- apprehension and precipitate significant action. In the first example, Arnold excuses himself from an enigmatic but enticing telephone call and begins to contemplate the situation he finds himself in. fie lights and smokes a cigar, providing the first moment for calm consideration. But the moment becomes more urgent when he begins to look at himself in the mirror and is forced to confront himself and his own motives. He removes his spectacles, as if to strip himself of any superfluous influence on his 213 clarity of vision, so that he might seehimself truly. The result is that he desperately wants to continuethe conversation:'When he returnedto the telephone,he was half afraid shemight be off the line' (24). This fear is translatedinto the more ambiguous:

11thought you might havehung up' (24). While it may remaintrue that the conversationof the charactersreveals little abouttheir psychologicalstate, Carver is careful to expandtheir emotionallives beyondtheir own levels of direct communication;much of what they learn about one anotheris a result of what is not said, and his acceptanceof her - he should say 'no' - is an indication of his desperation3. The secondand final exampleof mirror-gazingconfirms Arnold's motives and consequentaction:

He slowly took off his glovesand then his coat. He felt he had to

be careful. He went to washup. When he looked in the bathroom

mirror, be discoveredthe hat. It was then that he madethe decision

to seeher, and he took off his hat and glassesand soapedhis face.He

checkedhis nails. (26)

The practised,comfortably commonplaceritual of undressingand washingis shatteredby the 'discovery' that he hasnot removedhis hat. This destabilisingof his

3 it is worth noticing that later in the story, perhapsin the desireto achievea similar level of distance and contemplation,Arnold asksClara if he might smokea cigar. Sheappears hesitant and unsureand he decidesnot to smokeit. Thus a momentof perspective,in which he might carefully weigh up the situation, is deniedto him. 214 routine echoes a larger upheaval in his life, the result of his conversation with Clara.

Arnold has literally forgottenhimself, just as he has forgottento removehis hat. But rather than be frightened by such a powerful moment he embraces it: 'It was then that

decision her [ ]' (26). The has dual function. he madethe to see ... mirror a It actsa dramatic device, enablingArnold to seethat he hasnot removedhis hat. But the previous useof the mirror remindsus of its power to provide the charactera moment of unmediatedaccess into his psychologicallife. The look in the mirror is akin to the soliloquy in drama,and makesdirect genuineexpression possible, even if that expression is incomplete. The process represents the function of Carver's minimalist aestheticregarding his characterisation:to hold a mirror to them and watch their reflection. It operateson a imagistic basis,and is an extremeform of how the inner lives of characters might be revealed unmediated. In the first example, the reader learns he was afraid she might not be on the line and in the second he says nothing but decides to act. In both examples, the mirror enables Arnold to see the workings of his 4. authentic inner life, and act accordingly If everyone at some level is voyeur, then the appearanceof mirrors in Carver's fiction (and almost every story hasone in this collection) alerts the readerthat there is also a momentfor intent introspection.The mirror is the locus aroundwhich this strategyoperates, just as the windows, another figure frequently usedby Carver,enables the voyeur to look upon the wider world.

The previousstory in the collection, 'Neighbors', demonstratesthat voyeurismis not merely a passiveobservation, but a preparationfor vicariousexperience, or the

4 This moment is the centralepiphany in the story, but like most of Carver's epiphanies,it is not without qua]if ication. 215 expansion of the character's own self-identity. Here, Carver quite typically offers no conclusive explanation for why the Millers might find the Stones' house exciting, although it is implied that Bill is sexually stimulated by dressing up in Mrs Stone's clothes. Or, rather, the seemingly obvious reasons are not admitted to one another by

Bill his The 'It's funny [ ] to in the and wife. wife simply says: ... go someone's place like that' and the husband agrees: 'It is funny' (10). This is another story about the fascination of entering and exploring somebody else's secret inner lives and, albeit temporarily, transformingyour own identity. Bill's fantasyof changingplace with his neighboursis presentin the momentBill blinks into the mirror: when he openshis eyes,his identity will be transformed.His obviousdissatisfaction with his own life, spelledout for the readerdirectly at the beginningof the story, leadsBill to havethe desireto assumea new personality.The mirror in this caseis a device for recognising and reconstructingone's personality.Yet, the Millers are not allowed to revel in this fantasyfor long. At the end of story, they find themselvesin limbo, stuck in the corridor betweenthe housethey live in and their neighbours,between their former lives and a vision of a new identity, respectively.The wind which they face suggests there will be no easyanswers to this problem.

The mirror appearsas a motif in severalof the short stories.It remindsus of the photographsHemingway uses in 'Soldier's Home', tangible objectsthat exist in the presentbut that havealso capturedthe past. In the mirror, objects- faces- changeas in accordancewith the viewer. It is a place wherepeople can find a reflection of their truest selves,its laws of scienceunmediated by opinion, or - as in the caseof Bill in begin 'Neighbors' - it is a place where one can to reconstructidentity. It is onceagain 216 notablethat the mirror dependsupon vision, more evidenceof Carver's central obsession;vision, and its object and subject.

What this analysispoints to is Carver's 'obsession'with seeingand being seenand the potencyof the visual image.If one considersthe centralaspects of his fiction - the voyeur, the epiphany,the imagery- and their frequentmanifestations in his fiction through mirrors, windows or televisions,then the notion of watching becomesvery important. He extendshis interestin a tangible, physical reality by using the everyday object as a central elementin his approachto suggestivelanguage. 217

Part Two: Suggestive Language and the Everyday Object

Carver shares Hemingway's obsession with the accurate depiction and suggestive

power of the concrete image. In an example I drew on for a discussion of

suggestive language in the first chapter, the following extract, from the vignette

'Chapter 11' of In Our Time, Hemingway provides one striking image after the

other:

Minarets stuck out of the rain out of Adrianople acrossthe mud flats.

the carts werejammed for thirty miles along the Karagatchroad. Water

buffalo and cattle were hauling cartsthrough the mud. No end and no

beginning. Just carts loaded with everything they owned. 5

Compare this to the use of the striking image in Carver's 'What's in Alaska? ':

The cat carried a mouseinto the living room, stoppedto look at

them, then carried the mousedown the hall.

Carl turned the hall light on. The cat carried the mouseout of the

hall and into the bathroorn.

' J. Fenton (ed.) Ernest Hemingway TheCollected Stories (London: Everyman/DavidCampbell Publishers, 1995),p. 45. 218

The cat draggedthe mouseunder the coffee table. She lay down under

the table and licked the mouse.She held the mousein her paws'and

licked slowly, from beadto tail.

They watchedthe cat eat the mouse.(66-67)

In both extracts,the physicalworld is renderedwithout using the commontropes of figurative language and there are no similes or metaphors and few adjectives. Physical actionsare describedin a similar fashion;carts are hauled,the cat dragsthe mouse.

Both methodsof expressionhave as their basisan aspirationtowards objective reportage, as each absent narrator merely reports what they have 'seeW as an eyewitness to events, despite their (differently) unusual or extreme subjects. However, their observations are far from neutral, as I have shown and instead they create patterns of significance that are less direct and more implicit than their basis in empirical descriptions might suggest. Such implication, or suggestion, in Carver*s minimalist style is the focus of this section and its effect upon the reader.

Despitetheir similarities of expression,fundamental differences exist. The first is the subjectmatter. Few contemporaryreaders would witnessthe kind of massexodus

Hemingway is describingin this vignette. Yet the cat catchingthe mouse,even if not experiencedfirst-hand, would at leastbe more readily imaginable.The power of

Hemingway's imagerydepends largely upon it being extremeor uncommon,at least for his implied reader.Such images are widespreadand integral to Hemingway's use 219

of figurative language. These are often unforgettable images, such as the execution of

six cabinet ministers ('Chapter V'), or baggage animals, their legs broken, thrown into

the shallow water ('On the Quai at Smyrna'). The image is in part powerful because

its subject is strange to the reader. Hemingway's 'exoticism' might undermine the

reader's sense of identification with the scene and transform their reading experience.

Carver, then, chose images that could be immediately identified or experienced first-

hand. The subjects of his images were, even more than Hemingway's 'everyday

object', more mundane, banal and commonplace.

In her review of WhereI'm Calling From, Marilynne Robinsonsuggests a template

for Carver's short fiction. In her focus upon 'So Much Water So Closeto Home', she tells us of its 'striking and simple visual paradigm'which is the rest of the story'sjob to explicate.6 This, sheclaims, is 'pure Carver', the implication being that Carverhad a methodthat took the 'striking image' as a startingpoint. In the first story, 'Fat', the

fistriking image' is the descriptionof narratordreaming that shebecomes as fat as the client she had servedearlier. The imageof half the fish in the creel in 'Nobody Said

holding in doorway j ] if Anything'; the couple eachother the ... as againsta wind [ ]' in 'Neighbors'; Mike, asleepin to be the foetal ... and what appears position, knotted amongstthe bed sheetsin 'The Student'sWife' all servesuch a central purpose.In the story 'They're Not Your Husband',an imagepropels the narrative into action. Visiting his wife Doreenas sheworks as a waitress,Earl Ober noticestwo men looking at her as shebends over to scoopsome ice cream:

' M. Robinson 'Marriage and Other AstonishingBonds' New York TimesMay 15 1988,p. 44 220

The white skirt yankedagainst her hips and crawled up her legs.

What showedwas a girdle, and it was pink, thighs that were

rumpled and gray and a little hairy, and veins that spread out

in a berserkdisplay. (17)

This striking image is the initiator of events and represents a distillation of Earl

Ober's dissatisfactionwith his life which, the readerwill learn,he projectsonto his wife's appearance.In the final denouement,the imageonce again appearsas is Earl's plan: he wants men to admireher appearancein order to elevatehis status.But in doing so, he is caughtby her colleaguesencouraging lechery in what appearsto be an innocentcustomer:

The other waitress came straight to Doreen. "Who is this character?"

shesaid.

"Who?" Doreensaid and looked round with the ice-creamdish in

her hand.

"Him, " the other waitresssaid and noddedat Earl. "Who is this joker,

anyway?"(21)

As the role of observerand observedare inverted,Earl can do nothing but literally grin and bare it. The imageof Doreenas an object of sex,yet who unselfconsciously 221 goesabout her work, hasbeen replaced by one of a humiliated Earl. In the sectionon voyeurism,I noted that the relationshipsbetween reader, writer and text are constantly being interrogatedby Carver's method.It is fitting, therefore,that an imageshould be the focus of his fictional method,given, as it is, to being observed.

Most storiescontain a single, uniquestriking imagewhich it is the reader'soption to interpretinto a patternwhich revealsthe overall significanceof the story. Moreover, the idea that it appearsat the beginningof the story, as is found in Robinson's approach,is one that requiresreconsideration. Many of the central imagesin Will You

PleaseBe Quiet, Please?appear late in the story, or evenat the end. Most do not so much explain the story as confirm or deny interpretationsthat it may havearoused.

For example,in 'Are TheseActual Miles?', Leo tracesthe stretchmarks on Toni his lover's body:

They are like roads,and he tracesthem in her flesh. He runs his fingers

back and forth, first one, then another.They run everywherein her flesh,

dozens,perhaps hundreds of them. He rememberswaking up the morning

after they bought the car, seeingit, there in the drive, in the sun, gleaming. (157)

Appearing at the very end of the story, this subvertsthe fictional processthat so many of the epiphanicendings suggest in this collection. Ratherthan look forward with the 222

he is forced promiseof changeand redemption, to look back,to wonder-as he has in his done recollectionof the causesof his bankruptcyearlier - how they could have

endedup where they are (153). The bright, hopeful promiseof the new car 'gleaming'

in the sun hasended with disappointmentas all the roadslead nowhere.The stretch

marks, suggestiveof the roadsthey could havetaken and choicesthey could have

made,provide an imagethat simultaneouslysuggests the promiseof choice and a

remindsus that thesechoices have long disappeared.This striking image,coming at

the end of the story, helps consolidaterather than explain the eventsof the story. If the

readerfelt there may be little hope for Leo and Toni, then this imageconfirms it. That

Carver makesthe central, strangeimage an integral part of his methodpoints to

Hemingwayand his contemporaries'fascination with the imageas expressedin

Pound's Imagist movement. In Carver, that image is powerful and memorable, aspiring to a quasi-autonomy which has 'life' outside of the narrative. However, it is actually, like Hemingway's 'applied image' an integral part of his method. This is best explained in one of the most sustained use of a central image in this collection, the shoe in 'What*s in AlaskaT

A DevelopingSymbolic Value: TheShoe in 'What's in Alaska?'

I'd like to suggesthow two importantelements - repetitionand figurative language- work together in Carver*s'What's in Alaska?'. This story containsseveral examples of the more generaluse of repetition.Most notableis the useof the word 'shoe. It resemblesthe phrase'tried to havea baby' in Hemingway's 'Mr and Mrs Elliot' in that it runs like a threadthroughout the story. However,as I haveshown, Hemingway retainedthe symbolic value of the repeatedphrase throughout the story, so its 223

repetition was a strategyto reinforce,or insist on, its significance.Carver does

somethingmore ambitious.He changesthe context of the word as it appears

throughoutthe story, shifting the emphasisfrom 'insistence' to 'transference',where

its value changeseach time it reappears.

The word 'shoe' appearsin the secondsentence and then againthree times in the secondparagraph. Upon Jack's return home,the conversationimmediately turns to his purchase.Mary is unsureabout Jack's choice,claiming shedislikes the colour but

J ] but I bet (58). Although addsapprovingly, ... they're comfortable' the word 'shoe' appearsseveral times in theseopening paragraphs, the repetitionsare not placedin the kind of close proximity found in the Hemingwaypatterning, and so doesnot appearto be so immediatelyan explicitly rhetorical device. Indeed,at this point it merely reflects an everydaypractice - buying shoesand talking aboutthem; there is little to anticipatetheir central role in the narrative.Yet the shoeshere are just shoes;but they might soonmean something else: the boots,which he carriesunder his arm, have changedto shoes.Those boots are aligned to his work (referredto 'work boots' in the opening paragraph)and the shoes,as Mary implies in her appraisalthat they look ; comfortable', representleisure (the implication is that they cannotbe both comfortableand fashionable,and fashionableclothes is one of the themesI turn to in the chapteron Barthelme).Even in this seeminglyinsignificant detail, the potential for changeis present.Minimalism is basedupon the accretionof the acuity of such detail and hereCarver developsthe value of a seeminglyinnocuous object until it is the pivot aroundwhich the story turns. During the party, Jack feels compelledto raise the subjectof Mary's commentabout him being 'on a bummer': 224

"What did you meanwhen you said I was on a bummer?" Jack said

to Mary.

"What?" Mary said.

Jack staredat her and blinked. "You said somethingabout me being

on a bummer.What madeyou say that?"

I don't remembernow, but I can tell when you are," shesaid. "But

pleasedon't bring up anything negative,okay? "

"Okay,"Jack said. "All I'm saying is I don't know why you said that.

If I wasnl on a bummerbefore you said it, it's enoughwhen you say it

to put me on one."

"If the shoe fits, " Mary said. She leaned on the arm of the sofa and

laughed until tears came.

"What was that?" Carl said. lie looked at Jack and then at Mary. I

missedthat one," Carl said. (61-62)

Thereare two examplesof repetitionhere. In the first, Jackrepeats his concernsfirst raisedat the beginningof the party. WhenMary saysto the party that Jackis: '"[]

little bummertonight, " ' Jack ' "Why do " [ ] "That's on a responds: you saythat? ... a good way to put me on one." ' (60). The repetitionhere represents a continuingconcern of the characteras Jack is troubledat what he perceivesto be a sustainedcriticism from

Mary, so troubledthat he storesher commentsand raisesit when they havea moment alone.The repetitioninsists upon a salienttheme, Jack's dissatisfaction. 225

The contextand the shoehas changed upon its reappearanceduring their

conversation.Mary says:'If the shoefits', a play on the proverb 'if the cap fits, wear

it', meaningthat the easierpath be taken if offered. Shemeans something like 'If Jack

is acting like he's on a bummer,then he deservesto be accusedon being on one' (the

accusationof 'being on a bummer' being the cap that Jack 'readily' wears).But it also

points to the shoethat Jack haschosen earlier in the story, whereshe expressedher

distastefor it but softenedher criticism with the idea that it seemedcomfortable.

Now, underthe influenceof drugsand in the companyof friends,her inhibitions have

all but evaporated.The shoehas become the focus for her criticism, as shetransfers

her feelingsabout Jack onto it, and physical objectsbecome a representationfor inner

emotionalstates, prefiguring the conclusion.Later in the story, the shoesreappear in

anothersignificant moment:

Jack held his glassout and Carl pouredit full. Jack setthe glasson the

coffee table, but in reachingfor it he knockedover the glassand the

sodapoured on his shoe.

"Goddamnit, " Jack said."How do you like that? I spilled it on my

shoe." (64)

The new shoeshave beenruined by his clumsinessand he confirms this shortly after:

"They look comfortable," Helen said a long time later and handedJack a towel. 226

"That's what I told him," Mary said.

Jacktook the shoeoff and rubbedthe leatherwith the towel.

"It's done for, " he said. "That cream soda will never come out. "

Mary and Carl and Helen laughed.(64)

He appearsisolated from the rest of the group and the damageto the shoesis

somethinghe takesseriously. He is upsetby them being ruined by his own ineptitude

and hasno sympathyfrom the others.Jack attemptsto rally himself but in looking

more closely, only seeshis isolation more clearly:

Jack worked the shoe back on. He put both feet under the lamp and looked

at his shoes together. (65)

This seems like an attempt by Jack to retain his composure by maintaining a

singularity of purpose, by collecting together the loose ends of the evening, here

figuratively expressed in the comfort of symmetry between both shoes. Being under

the lamp gives him the opportunity to reflect with clarity: 'He put his feet under the

coffee table. Then he moved them out under the light once more. "Who wants a new pair of shoes?" Jack said.' (65). Here, Jack recognises (following the 'light" that is shed, a motif in Carver's fiction, designating revelation) that the shoes are no longer any use, and attempts to off-load them to his peers. Figuratively he is trying to cast them off and reinsert himself into the social dynamic. In the final section, the role of 227

the shoechanges once again. Now there is a direct comparisonbetween his and her

shoes:'They moved slowly on the sidewalk.He listenedto the scuff-Ingsound her

[ ] He feel dampnessin shoesmade. ... could the that shoe.'(68). In anotheract of

emotionaltransference to an object, he considersthat her shoesare more valuable

than his. This echoesthe themeof the last section,in which the shoebecomes

prominent:

He kept staringand thought he saw it again,a pair of small eyes.His heart

turned. He blinked and kept staring.He leanedover to look for something

to throw. He picked up one of his shoes.He sat up straightand held the

shoe with both hands. (69)

This is the culmination of the use of the shoe symbol in the story. To begin with the shoe meant something like an escape from work to leisure. But Mary's criticism of them reminds Jack that their attitudes are at odds, perhaps becauseof the disagreement over their proposed move to Alaska. Jack's unhappiness with this prospect is illustrated not merely in his dialogue, through the patterning of the figurative value of the shoes. Moreover, the small pair of eyes found at the end of the story could be evidence of Mary's desire to move, settle and have children. Jack is so against this idea that he wants to throw his shoe at the eyes. At this point the shoe means something like the last shred of individuality, self-determination and integrity that he possesses.The shoe, although damaged, is still his own. This is a supreme 228

exampleof how the subtleact of showingmight be found in the most obscureobject,

through a seriesof highly nuancedsuggestions which reflect a complex stateof mind

in flux, exposingthe permutationsof a complexconsciousness.

The notion that the symbolic readingis in flux, subjectto the specific context of the

momentin which it appears,is a developmentof the traditional useof the symbol. It

is also highly equivocal,and underminesthe stability of associationbetween symbol

and its value which is an importantelement in the reader'sinterpretation. Carver does

not usethe samestore of symbolsas Hemingway- the shoehas no stablecorollary,

no fixed Freudianreading - but insteadhe is more intent upon demonstratinghow the

emotionalstate is suggestedin the appearanceof his everydayobjects. This focus

upon a single elementof Carver's methodmay, at first, seema little pedantic.The

readermight be confusedby the centrality of the seeminglybanal object, the constant

reappearanceof which seemssignificant, but doesnot easily reveal itself as such. It

could not reasonablybe claimedthat 'What's in AlaskaT is 'about' a shoe.But if

pedantryis merely a pejorativeterm for focussingon detail, then Carver is certainly

guilty of such focus. For it is in the detail, and more pointedly the details in objects

found in everydaylife, that Carveruses as a basisfor creatinga greatersignificance.

in this example,Carver endows a shoewith what he calls an 'immense,even startling power' partly as a result of its changingcontext as it is repeatedin different terms through the story. It is unnervingto the readernot becauseof its inherentstrangeness

(there is little strangeabout a pair of shoes)but becauseof its value as a product of its changingplace within the narrative.Like Hemingway(and Chekhovbefore him), the function of the symbol is largely determinedby its placewithin a compositionor 229

configuration. Here, the everyday object has become estranged from its literal,

everyday value, transformed into a potent symbol of the desire to escape. Such highly

sophisticated methods are at the heart of how minimalist fiction paradoxically uses the everyday to suggest something far greater, more moving and lasting; the less of the everyday becomes the more of the emotive and challenging journey his character takes. Meaning is expressed through a series of inflections, of subtle relationships, or fleeting glimpses and minute detail which all point to minimalist reduction; it asks the reader to loosen the restrictions on what they consider the 'proper' stuff of the literary fiction, and to adapt their reading strategy accordingly.

Carver createseffect from an accretionof minute but highly significant detail throughout the collection. In 'Are You A Doctor? ', Breit talks to Clara about how they could have met, he admits that this occurrence is confusing: 'This is still very much of a mystery to me, ' he said. 'It's quite out of the ordinary, I assure you. ' (28).

Clara promises to solve that mystery; 'You'd probably like to hear the story of how I got your numberT (28). Carver then draws our attention to events outside of the conversation at the moment when the promise of a confession is imminent:

They sat acrossfrom eachother waiting for the water to boil. He could

bear the television. He looked aroundthe kitchen and then out toward

the balcony again.The water beganto bubble.(28) 230

The sensoryimpact of the television and the water boiling reinforce the idea of the kind of overwhelming impressionsthis strangemeeting leaves upon Breit. The boiling water is suggestiveof the rising anticipationof this strangemeeting, as both wait for answers.His eyesare unableto rest upon Clara, despiteher sitting acrossfrom him, and they shift from the room to the balcony,their path tracing a subconsciousline of escapefrom the room and this difficult situation.The staccatorhythms of the short sentencepromote this senseof fragmentation,rising to the point at which the emotionsrise and the water bubbles.This short sentenceis perhapsthe most abundant and immediatelyobvious evidenceof a minimalist style, and servesto foregroundthe processby which small elementscome together in a carefully contrived patternto meanmore than the sum of their parts.Carver's sentencesare mostly short, often containing a single clause.This is a typical example,from the story 'Night School':

My marriagehad just fallen apart. I couldn't find a job. I had another

girl. But shewasn*t in town. So I was at a bar having a glassof beer,

and two women were sitting a few stoolsdown, and one of them began

to talk to me.

"You have a car?"

do, but it's not here," I said.

My wife had the car. I was stayingat my parents'place. I usedtheir car

sometimes.But tonight I was walking. (70) 231

The overall effect has similarities with the Hemingway short sentence,in the first instanceby clarifying and emphasisingthe key proposition.While the sentence remainsuncluttered, the focal point for our attention is abundantlyclear. The sentencesretain a strict logical structure,moving from one idea to the next, and often bringing us to a conclusionexpressed in a longer sentencethat actsas a coda for what hascome before and a beginningof what is to come.In this examplethe fifth and final sentenceof the openingparagraph is much longer than thosepreceding and summarisesthe narrator'sdilemma: he hasjust broken up with his wife. The short sentencedictates the paceof the reading,another direct way in which the minimalist style determinesthe reader"sexperience. Carver's short sentencesproduce a staccato effect, a stuttering from line to line, echoingthe kind of rhythms found in

Hemingway's prose.Rhythm is not simply producedby the single sentencebut a combinationof severalstrung together.

The shorter sentence is abundant, but is not found everywhere. In 'Neighbors', the third personnarration is written in a largely different, more expansive,idiom:

Bill and Arlene Miller were a happy couple. But now and then they felt

they alone amongtheir circle had beenpassed by somehow,leaving

Bill to attendto his bookkeepingduties and Arlene occupiedwith

secretarialchores. They talked about it sometimes,mostly in comparison

with the lives of the neighbors,Harriet and Jim Stone.It seemedto the 232

Millers that the Stoneslived a fuller and brighter life. The Stoneswere

always going out for dinner, or entertainingat home,or travelling about

the country somewherein connectionwith Jim's work. (6)

With the exceptionof the first sentence,the sentencesare long and contain multiple clauses.The syntax is also rather strained,for examplein the phrase'But now and then they felt they alone amongtheir circle'. They certainly seemat odds with the notion of clarity of expression,emphasis through isolation and the creationof rhythms through an accretionof short, staccatopropositions. Carver soughtnews of inviting the readerto respondto his text that did not rely solely upon this extremeshort sentence (this more expansive style anticipates his later work, such as Cathedraý.

However, the speech patterns of Bill and Arlene display a distinctly minimalist structure:

"Bill! God, you scared me. You're early, "she said.

He shrugged."Nothing to do at work," he said.

She let him useher key to open the door. He looked at door acrossthe hall

before following her inside.

"Let's go to bed," he said.

"Now? " She laughed."What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing. Take your dressoff. " (8) 233

The short sentenceseems to havea dual function in the storiesof Carver. When it is appliedto the explorationof the physicalworld or for narrativepurposes, it seems uniquely successful.It is reminiscentof the useof Hemingway's short sentence,in that it clarifies and emphasisesideas single ideaswithin a single clause.However, when usedin dialogueto expressthe thoughtsand feelingsof the characters,it displaystheir ability to articulatethemselves or to communicateclearly with one another.It is not so much that they are inarticulatebut that their motives remain uncleareven to themselves.

In the examplefrom 'Night School', the short sentenceof the openingdirect narration displaysthe sameclipped, tersesentences of the dialoguethat we find in Hemingway. it, too, hasthis function in the work of Carver. But Carverextends the notion of the short sentenceas evidenceof his character'sinability to expressesthemselves. If the short sentence,with its concomitantrejection of metaphorand relatively small vocabularyis the ideal too] for making the physicalworld manifest,then it appears sadly lacking when usedto articulatethe thoughtsand feelingsof his characters.In the final chapteron Barthelme,I will discusshis claim his charactersare not thoseto

6shoutfrom the rooftops, meaningthat they do not discusstheir motives,beliefs or deeperfeelings. This certainly seemsthe casefor much of Will YouPlease Be Quiet,

Please?as the title evinces. 234

Part Three: Omission and the Interrupted Epiphany

The use of the epiphany in Carver's work is aligned to that in some modem short fiction in that the epiphany is revelatory, capable of providing the kind of insight that might help those who experience it to overcome his or her problem, but does not see the change through. Suggesting the possibility of positive change whilst refusing to fulfil its potential to resolve the narrative conflicts is one of Carver's most important contributions to minimalism, and one of the key ways in which the text ends equivocally but subverting the reader's expectations.

In his analysisof the epiphanyin Carver's fiction, Gunter Leypoldt criticises these 7 storiesfor not fulfilling the promiseof resolutionthey suggest. In this examinationof

'What's In AlaskaT, he drawsattention to the seeminglybanal conversation that takes place aboutcream soda and points to a strategythe readermust adopt in order to make senseout of theseseemingly trivial moments:

One finds oneselfrereading these passages in an attemptto identify

any hidden meaningsthat would contributeto a thematicpattern, a

8 central conceittowards which the narrativecould be saidto move.

7 G. Leypoldt 'Raymond Carver's EpiphanicMoments' Style, 35 (2001), pp. 531-547. Leypoldt, p. 537. 235

This, I haveargued, is preciselythe processCarver's minimalism demands.Indeed, what doesit meanto write a literaturewhich is full of, and reliant upon, lines suchas the following?:

Her breathproduced itself on the glass,then went away. (128-129)

The collection is full of what may, at leastat first reading,be consideredincidental detail and obtuse,incoherent and impressionisticobservation. Yet, it is the focus upon the minutiaeof everydaylife that is so importantfor developingan understandingof this collection and of minimalism in general.Out of context,this might reveal it is it is something about the transience of human life. But only when considered its within the pattern of the collection as a whole and within this particular story does significance develop into something extraordinary. In order to make senseof this epiphany, it should be considered within the entire context of the narrative.

in this example,the closing door figuratively closescommunication between the Indeed, couple and sheis left alone,talking 'to the window' (128). the conversation that has begun:'I feel alright' is now continuedwithout his presence,making her isolation more powerfully felt. Tantalisingly out of reach,she watches him as she It revealsher innermostfeelings: "'I just hateto haveyou goneall the time. seems like you're goneall the time," shesaid to the window.' (128). The window providesa but barrier how channelof visual communication also actsas a to speech,a symbol of 236

the coupleremain connected without satisfactorycommunication. It is a partial

methodof communicating,where everything can be clearly seenwithout being clearly

and mutually understood.Her breathupon the glass,which risesthen fades,is

evocativeof the words sheuses to try to communicateher isolation in his absence.

Thesewords only leavea small and temporaryimprint on the glassas her plea,

unheardby him and but ironically readby the reader-voyeur,fails to makeany

differenceon his actions.As Boxer and Phillips makeclear, the window functionsas

a direct indication of voyeurism:

If the mirror is an emblemof Carveriandissociation, the window,

9 appropriately, is a complementary symbol of voyeurism.

Leypoldt fails to find the pattemingthat should,he feels,be situatedat the final

epiphany:

[] the epiphanicmoment with which the story concludesdoes not

[ ] he [Jack] achieveeven minimal congruenceof theme ... suddenly

fancieshe sees'something in the hall' with 'a pair of small eyes'

[] [Jack's] vision is evidently a form of subliminal uneaserather than

offering recognition."

9 Boxer and Phillips, p. 77. 10Leypoldt, p. 537. He erroneouslyreplaces 'Jack' with 'Carl' in his discussionand for the sakeof in brackets. clarity, I have correctedthe quotation,placing 'Jack' square 237

What Lcypoldt fails to rccognisc is the congruence between the cpiphanic moment at the end of the story and the central and strangeimage of the story: the cat and mouse.

Although Carver leaves unsaid exactly who these eyes belong to, it might certainly point to that image which is introduced so violently into the story. One must speculate upon what this patterning means. This patterning could suggest that Carl feels he is the mouse to his partner's cat and as such, is subject to the whim of the forces evident in her behaviour towards him. Moreover, it points once again to the notion of being watched as a source of anxiety, as a way of reminding the characters that they have responsibilitiesthat require fulfilling. At the end of this story, the voyeurism,the strongcentral imageand the epiphanycome together to createa powerful momentof unease,which embodiesseveral of Carver's characteristicdevices.

James Joyce was at least partially responsible for the introduction of the epiphany into modern literature and Carver's use of epiphany is related to the Joycean model.

Hemingway rarely used the epiphany in this form. Rather, Carver's use of the

from epiphany is best considered in relation to the Joycean. Derived the Greek

has long been epiphainein, meaning to manifest, the epiphany associated with the

III am indebtedto the following studiesof the epiphanyin literature:A. Nichols ThePoetics of Epiphany: Nineteenth-CenturyOrigins ofthe Alodern Literary Moment(Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press,1987); M. Bidney PatternsofEpiphany., From Wordsivorthto Tolsloy,Paler and Barrett Browning (Carbondale:Southern Illinois University Press,1987); M. Beja Epiphany in the Alodern Novel (Seattle:University of WashingtonPress, 197 1; and W. Tigges(ed. ) Momentsof Afomenl:Aspects ofLileraq Epiphany(Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1999).The latter is an especiallyuseful introductory interesting collection of essaysfrom a variety of perspectivesand Tigges' essayoffers an typology of the epiphany.For articles specifically on Carver's epiphanysee Leypoldt; Clark; A. Meyer RaymondCarver (New York: Twayne, 1995),pp. 24-25,35-36,43-44,65-67,70-72 and A. Saltzman 'Epiphany and Its Discontents:Coover, Gangemi, Sorrentino, and PostmodemRevelation. ' Journal of Afodern Literature 15 (1989) pp. 497-518. 238 manifestationof Jesusto the Gentilesin the personsof the Magi in early Christianity.

Its definition has beentransformed until it hascome to meanany suddenand importantrevelation or realisation,without the necessarymanifestation of a divine or supernaturalbeing at its cause.Joyce appropriated the term to define his new literary device in the novel StephenHero. Here, StephenDaedalus discusses his desireto collate the mundaneobjects and incidentswhich reveal a momentof unique intensity into a collection of what he calls epiphanies:'By an epiphanyhe meanta sudden spiritual manifestation,whether in the vulgarity of speechor of a gestureor in a

itself 12The memorablephrase of the mind . salientcriteria are the cause- the mundane,everyday artefacts and events- and its centraleffect, a transcendent,quasi- spiritual revelation,or a momentof clarity. Joyce*suse of the epiphanyis can be illustrated by his Dubliners story, 'The Dead':

A few light taps upon the panemade him turn to the window. It had

begunto snow again.He watchedsleepily the flakes, silver and dark,

lamplight. [ ] It failing, failing obliquely againstthe ... was too, on every

part of the lonely churchyardon the hill where Michael Furey lay

buried. [ ] His he heardthe failing ... soul swoonedslowly as snow

faintly through the universeand faintly falling, like the descentof

13 their last end, upon all the living and the dead.

12Nichols, p. 8. 13H. Levin (cd.) JamesJoyce: A JamesJoyce Reader(London: Penguin,1993), p. 242. 239

Here,Gabriel experiencesan epiphanythat beginswith him watching the snow failing and endswith a vision of unity of all the living and all the dead.The epiphaniesof

Will YouPlease Be Quiet, Please?begin, like Gabriel's, in an observationof the commonplace,but inevitably end in somethingfar lessprofound in lyrical expression:

As she looked, the room grew very light and the pale sheetswhitened

grossly beforeher eyes.

Shewet her lips with a sticking soundand got down on her knees.She

put her handson the bed.

"God, " she said. "God, will you help us, God?" she said. (96)

The student's wife in the story of the same name begins to see more clearly as the night brightens into day: 'By stagesthings were becoming very visible. She let her eyes see everything until they fastened on the red winking light atop the radio tower

literal atop the opposite* (96). Yet this emergent visibility, a manifestation of the

it isolation despair, epiphanic power of insight, brings with ton-nent, and as the red warning light on the tower prophesises.

Whereasthe Joyceanepiphany leaves those who experienceepiphany self- consciouslyricher, Carvertransfonns the epiphanyas a sourceof clarity and understandinginto a realisationof confusion,bewildennent and even a resignation 240

that changebrings with it despair,as well as hope."' Ironically, the epiphany

demonstratesto thosewho experienceit how limited their vision might be.

Elsewherethis subversionis evident.Although certainthat her life will change,the narratorof 'Fat' is uncertainas to what that changemight bring, only knowing that shecan 'feel it' (6). Unlike that of Joyce,the positive implicationsof the epiphanyare not discussed,and what remainsis in incompletegroping after meaningin otherwise seemingly'meaningless' lives. At best,those who experiencethe epiphanydo not understandits significance.

At worst, insight brings despair. In the absence of a positive effect that is clearly understood, Carver's protagonists recognise that the only thing they can be certain of in light of their epiphany is that they will be changed somehow. This passive acceptance is illustrated in the final story, from which the collection takes its name:

He held himself, he later considered,as long as he could. And then

he turned to her. He turnedand turned in what might havebeen a

14 Carverdescribes a personalepiphany in theessay 'Fires' fromthe collection of thesame name, where he comesto recognisethat responsibilityfor his children is the most tangible 'influence' upon his writing. He saysof the experience:'I'd had, I'd realizedlater, an insight. But so what? What are insights?They don't help any. They just makethings harder.' See R. Carver Fires: Essays,Poems, Stories (London: The Harvill Press,1994), pp. 32-33. 241

stupendoussleep, and he was still turning, marvelling at the impossible

changeshefell moving over him. (18 1, my emphasis)

Both characterand readerunderstand that a tangible changehas taken place,but the natureof that changeand the effectsthat it will haveremain indefinite.

TheEpiphany and Short Story Tradition

Carver's frequent use of the epiphany helps contextualise Will You Please Be Quiet,

Please?in termsof the history of the short story. The short story critic Clare Hanson integrates the development of the epiphany with the development of the short story:

The emphasisof modernistshort fiction was on a single momentof

intense [ ] The form is or significant experience. ... short clearly suited

to the presentation of a single incident, with a central 'mornent of

15 significance'.

in her analysisof closureSusan Lohafer suggeststhat: 'We would needanother diagram to fit the modernnotion of 'epiphany". 16In her analysisof the endingsof the

" C. HansonShort Stories andShort , 1880-1980(London: Macmillan, 1985),p. 55. 16S. Lohafer Coming to Termswilh the Short Story (Baton Rouge:Louisiana State University Press, 1983),p. 82. 242

short story in the chapter'Getting Out of Story', Lohafer providesan out]ine of the

structuring of a traditional short story.

Shedraws attention to John Barth's accountof the short story structurewhich:

[] fits the traditional conceptof confl ict-and-resolution,'rising' and

'failing' action, and final 'denouement'.Stories end when this pattern

17 is completed.

The traditional notion of a beginning, middle and an end has a corollary in short story theory with the respective concepts of exposition, conflict and denouement18. In the conventional tale, and much short story telling before modernism, is how completely the denouement interprets the central conflict in order to resolve any interpretative questions remaining. Formally, it is a convention used to conclude, the sudden climax to a narrative. In many manifestations, it provides a conclusion to an established premise,that the conflict betweentwo partiescan be resolvedthrough this newly acquired insight. Almost as significantly, there exists a moral resolutionin the

" Lohafer, P. 82. 18 Carver was familiar with conventionalshort story structuring,but he doesnot appearto be interested in using it in his fiction. He recallshis introduction to the conceptof structureduring his time as a studentin a creativewriting programmetaught by his early mentor,John Gardner: 'I think his idea [ ] had beginning, [Gardner's] of short story ... was somethingthat a recognizable middle and an end to it. Once in a while he'd go to the blackboardand draw a diagramto illustrate a point he wanted to make about rising or failing emotion in a story - peaks,valleys, plateaus,resolution, denouement, things like that. Try as I might, I couldn't mustera great deal of interestor really understandthis side of [ ]': Carver (1994), 43. things ... p. 243 traditional tale: the bad havebeen punished and goodnessprevails. Such stories

follow a structuralpattern which Carver's storiesdo not.

The first story in the collection, 'Fat', follows a traditional structureof expositionand conflict but its denouementdoes not satisfy a resolvedconclusion. Telling the story to her friend, the narratorrecounts how following her encounterwith the customer,she feels 'terrifically fat' as her and her partnerRudy havesex: 'When he gets on me, I suddenlyfeel I am fat. I feel I am terrifically fat, so fat that Rudy is a tiny thing and hardly there at all. ' (4-5) Suchchange anticipates the epiphanywhere she pronounces:

'My life is going to change.I feel it. ' (5) The epiphanyshe has experienced, however, is not conclusively linked with her dilemma.This conclusiondoes not resolvethe conflict, suchas it is, that has emergedthroughout the story. Rather,it is suggestiveof the potential of a powerful changewithout clearly and directly claiming what that changemight be or what the implicationsof that changeare. The traditional signposts of closureare indeedomitted and replacedwith promise,potential and change,which might be fairly consideredthe elementsof beginnings,not ends.

In 'Nobody Said,Anything', there is a more sophisticatedexposition / conflict / denouementstructuring, and one that, importantly, is not completelyresolved. The story beginswith a clear exposition,and a senseof place,time and situation is tangible from the openingpage: 'I could hearthem out in the kitchen. I couldn't hear what they were saying,but they were arguing' (33). Feigning illness,the boy narrator is allowed to havethe day off schooland decidesto go fishing at the nearbycreek. 244

Here,he meetsanother boy who is fishing and there beginsa second,sub-narrative.

The boys argueabout who shouldkeep the fish they havecaught. Unable to decide who shall keep it, they cut it in half in compromise,each boy taking his shareand that

is where this sub-narrativeends. Excited by the prospectof showinghis parentshis catch,the narratorreturns home to find his parentsarguing once again. At this late point in the story, the centralconflict is fully realised:the boy is isolatedfrom his wrangling parents,yet he is determinedto help reconcilethem. His anticipated conclusionis that his catch might becomethe catalyst from which the family might reunite: 'I unslungthe creel so I could raisethe lid and get to march into the house, grinning' (45) It is herethat the themeof seeing,of which the epiphanyis its most powerful and extrememanifestation, becomes vitally significant.Notions of seeing are foregroundedin the argumentbetween his parents.The husbandbegins: '[... ]

"You'll see." Shesaid, "I'll seenothing. If I thoughtthat, I'd rather seethem dead first." (45) The metaphoris extendedwhen the son appears,once again grinning in optimistic anticipation,with the creel in his hands:"'You won't believewhat I caught at Birch Creek.Just look. Look here.Look at this. Look what I caught."' (45) The verb

'look' is repeatedfour times in quick succession,reinforcing the boy's urgencyand excitementand also an entreatyto understand,to acceptand tolerate:to seeis to understand.But neither of his parentscan seewhat their son can see,either through ignoranceor through choice:

she finally looked in. "Oh, oh, my God! What is it? A snake!

Please,take it out before I throw up." 245

I said, "But look, Dad. Look what it is."

He said, I don't want to look."

[] He looked into the creel and his mouth fell open.

He "Take that thing here! [ ]" (4546) screamed, goddamn out of ...

Repeating'look' twice, the father rejectshis plea, choosingto remain ignorantof his

son's catchand so underminesthe boy's hope.Having goneoutside, a reminderof his

isolation, the boy seesclearly what is in front of him:

I went back outside.I looked into the creel. What was there looked

silver under the porch light. What was there filled the creel.

I lifted him out. I held him. I held that half of him. (46)

The 'silver' appearance,made so by the light of sudden understanding, is suggestive of its high value and evensymbolically as a comparativevitality, when one considers it in comparisonwith the green,sickly fish the boys had previously found. This is in direct contrastto his parent'shorror and when the story culminatesin the boy lifting the half of the fish out of the creel and holding it, the boy acknowledgesthe promise that even an incompletefish -a gesture,a beginningat reconciliation- offers. He is able to seeclearly, but what is left is partial and unrewarding.This boy and what remainsof his catch held the promiseof redemption,now sadly rejected,and his holding him is a patheticattempt to reclaim his parent'sapproval. 246

This moment,like so many other epiphaniesin the collection, appearsat the end of

the story. As Gunter Leypoldt notes of 'What's in Alaska? ':

As a result of the story's juxtaposition of de-hierachizedmaterial,

plot closurehinges on the extent to which the final, climactic

epiphany resolves the data into a meaningful pattern. 19

The epiphanywhich comesat the end of the story promisesto draw togetherthe loose

endsand provide a closed,resolved finale which diminishesinterpretative

indeterminacy.When the readerinterprets the character'sepiphanies, such as those

found in 'The Student'sWife' or 'Fat', there is no suchresolution: change is possible

but the changewhich comesabout is indefinite and so doesnot addressthe specific

interpretativeproblems that the narrativeraises. For example,a reasonable

speculationin 'Fat' would be to suggestthat the epiphanypermits the narratorto see

clearly how her relationshipwith Rudy is unsustainableand so shemust act accordingly.Carver's insights in Will YouPlease Be Quiet, Please?rarely, if ever, offer such promise".

19Leypoldt, p. 537. '0 This is not true of his later fiction, wherethe epiphany,in accordancewith his more positive and expansiveattitude, often resultedin a clearly discerniblecourse of action for his characters.For example,in 'Fever', found in Calhedl-al,the protagonistcomes to termswith his wife's absenceas the result of an epiphanyfollowing an encounterwith his maid: 'But he understoodit was over, and he felt her [ I And [ ] become him able to let go. ... that passing ... would part of now, too, as surely as anything else he'd left behind.' R. Carver Calhedral (London: The Harvill Press,1997), p. 173. 247

The brief analysis suggeststwo ideas. Firstly, by appearing at the end and offering a

possibility of positive changethat might resolvethe conflict assembledin the

narrative,the epiphanyin Carver's storiesrepresents a structuralclimax. Somethingis

certainly learnedat the end of the stories,and as a result, a conclusionto the progress

from expositionthrough conflict to resolution is made.But it is not an interpretative

one.The epiphanywhilst suggestingthe possibility of change,does not directly make

clearwhat that precisechange will be. Will the narratorin 'Fat' be determinedto

leaveher partneras a result of her epiphany?Carver's epiphaniesomit the stability,

clarity and insight of the traditional Joyceanmodel. As a result, a courseof action that

might resolvethat interpretativeproblem remains.Indeed, this is Carver's great

omission,akin in significanceto Hemingway's '', in that the epiphany

appearsto be structurally well-positionedat the end of the story, but is interpretatively

equivocalbecause it doesnot offer a resolutionto the narrative.Rather, it offers

promiseand dashesit, often only creatingbewilderment, confusion and evendespair

for a readergrasping to understandwhy the epiphanyis incomplete.The epiphany

representsa formal resolutionbut not an interpretativeone.

The Unresolved Epiphany and Reader Response

Like the notion of voyeurism found elsewhere in this collection, there is an implied

relationship between what is experienced by the characters on the page and what

might be experienced by the reader. As such, the epiphany, perhaps along with the theme of the voyeur, is the closest Carver comes to introduction an explicit,

his conventional literary strategy into work. In the absence of metaphors, similes and the abundant self-conscious experimentation of post-modernist writer, the epiphany 248 demonstratesthat Carver's (and minimalism's) 'innocent style' of no tricks is merely another style. As Arthur Saltzman argues:

Epiphanyis an anthropomorphicdistortion, as could well be said of

metaphor,analogy, or any of literature's ploys for renderingthe world

hospitable.21

This can, on occasion,effect the ways in which Carver's style is transformedduring

direct the As the insight the idiom the expressionof epiphany. momentof C;' approaches, often becomesmore expansive,the imagerymore intense.I havealready recounted the example of Leo tracing the paths of Toni's stretch marks and the manner in which this vital image subverts his hope of redemption, a conventional function of epiphany.

This is equally true of the resolutory epiphany in the entire collection, found in the title story and which points to Carver's, used later in such stories as 'Fever' in

Cathedral:

Her hand moved over his hip and over his stomachand shewas

pressingher body over his now and moving over him back and forth

over him. He held himself, he later considered,as long as he could.

And then he turnedto her. He turned and turned in what might have

" Saltzman,p. 500. 249

beena stupendoussleep, and he was still turning, marvelingat the

impossiblechanges he felt moving over him. (18 1)

His is his distancefrom ('[ ] he later perspective crucial: the moment ... considered') meantthat the effects of the epiphanycould still be felt, as he 'was still turning'.

Becausethe epiphanyis presentedin a complex interactionof tenses,it appearsat once immediateand of the past.As such,the readerwill understandthat Ralph has had the time to absorbthese changes and so be able to 'marvel' at them.

[ ] The idea The notion of characterwas also undergoingchange ...

fixed fully knowable identity [ ] by of a and ... was abandoned many

writers of the post-Freudian era. In its stead came a senseof external

personality as an ever-changing, infinitely adjustable 'envelope'

22 surrounding the real self

Carver's many-facetedepiphanies demonstrate his adherenceand subversionof conventional literary devices. fie pared down his subject to focus intently upon the commonplaceand even the banal. In his exploration of voyeurism, he suggeststhat everyone involved in his fiction - the reader,character, writer - are voyeurs of some sort or another, implying an intimacy with his fiction that his distanced,

6absent'minimalism style does not imply. In his use of imagery and figurative

22Hanson, pp. 55,56. 250 language,he aspiresto an innocent style, which, is of course, merely another style itself. Finally, in his epiphany he used a traditional device to close his stories without providing interpretative closure. This paradoxical quality of Carver's fiction, the melding of two seemingly ambivalent traits, is evidenceof minimalism's power to createsignificance from seemingly incoherent, incomplete and impoverished means. 251

Part Four: Carver's Everyday Reality

Critics of Carver's short stories reflect his work's problematic relationship with the conventions of realism. Many would consider that it reveals a genuine interest in an exploration of the American underclass, and more particularly, in the domestic lives of couples, either tenuously together or recently parted. Kirk Nesset notes of

j ] the fiction minimalism: ... constitutes above all a strikingly resurgence of the 23 realist mode'. Adam Meyer supports the notion of a 'resurgence' of realism following post-modem fiction's departure from realist conventions:

When Carver was first beginningto write, the dominantliterary mode

[ j kind [ ] The is ... was a of experimentalpostmodernism. ... style marked

by [ ] is itsel 24 ... an abundanceof writing whosemain concern writing f.

So convinced are several critics of minimalism that they are realists that the term itself becomes part of the movement's alternative titles. In the United Kingdom, minimalists are also known as 'Dirty Realists', for example, following a publication of several of the short stories in a special edition of Granta and this implies an integral relationships between realism and minimalism. Variously known as 'new' or'neo- realism', 'hyper-realists' and 'K-Mart Realism', the inclusion of the term would

23K. Ncsset TheStories ofRaymondCarver: A Critical Study(Athens, US: Ohio StateUniversity Press,1995), p. 5. ' Meyer, p. 27. 252 suggestit should be placedwithin the conventionsof realist writing." Assessing

Carver in terms of his relationshipto realism is the focus of this sectionand I shall, along with the critics above,suggest ways in which Carver's work can be viewed as working within the traditions of realism.His realism is an importantelement in itself, but here it representsCarver's - and minimalism's - on-going interestin the ordinary subject.

Severalcritics haveasserted that this relationshipis lessstraightforward that it might appear.In his study of contemporaryAmerican short fiction, JohnAldridge accuses

Carver of failing to addresssocial issues:

It is not a responseto, nor doesit representan attackon, any

injustice. [ I In fact, specific social or political ... a startling

characteristic of such writing is that it expressesabsolutely no

discernible attitude toward society as a whole. 2'

Theseopinions often coincideabout a single work, creatingan ambivalent relationshipbetween Carver*s short fiction and realism.Noting that his stories: j] are like stark black-and-whitesnapshots of lives lived in a kind of quiet, evensilent

" John Barth's infamousafcle 'A Few Words About Minimal ism' Neil, )ork Times,December 28 th 1986 collects many of the titles given to minimalism, including the inclusive and parodic: 'post- Vietnam, post-literary, postmodernistblue-collar neo-carly-Flemingwayism'. 26J. Aldridge Talentsand Technicians:Literary Chic and the NewAssemblj-Line Fiction (New York: CharlesScribner's Sons, 1992),pp. 32-33. 253 desperation"', CharlesMay to '[ ] have goeson claim most of the stories: ... the 28 ambiencemore of a dreamthan of everydayreality'. Indeed,it is May that comes closestto the ambivalentquality of Carver's short storiesin termsof their relationshipswith the conventionsof realism.That transformationof the concretely real into the dreamlikeis the productof a suggestiveminimalist which createsa myriad of nuancedrelationships between the everydayand the fantastic.

Of the twenty-two storiesin this collection, over half directly concernmarital relations.Most of thesecouples are out of work, are blue-collar workers or at best low-statuswhite collar workers. Bill and Arlene Miller of 'Neighbors' are a bookkeeperand a secretary;the narratorof 'Fat' works as a short order waitress;the narratorof 'Collectors' is unemployedand waits for a invitation to work; whilst Leo and Toni of 'Are TheseActual MilesT are reliant on the saleof their car to rescue them from bankruptcy. As a result of their employment status, several find themselves in financial difficulty and becauseof these kinds of lifestyle, many of the relationships are fraught and some are even in the process of fracturing. If realism is a convention through which the writer sheds light upon the world (at least in the conventional understanding of realism), then the world that Carver throws light on is a particular one and one that is relentlessly and exclusively exposed.

" C. May TheShort Slog. The Reality ofArlifice (New York: Routledge,2002), p. 92. 28May, P. 94. 254

'Are TheseActual MilesT and 'Signals' are companionpieces, appearing consecutivelyin the collection. Both are about strainedrelationships, and focus on break downs of communicationbetween the couples.As Leo in 'Are TheseActual

MilesT is left at home, uncertain of whether Toni might use sex as part of selling the car, he rememberswhat the idea of bankruptcyused to represent:

He recalls when he was a kid his dad pointing at a fine house,a tall

white housesurrounded by appletrees and a high white rail fence.

"That's Finch," his dad said admiringly. "He's beenin bankruptcy

at leasttwice. Look at that house." But bankruptcyis a company

collapsing utterly, executives cutting their wrists and throwing

themselvesfrom windows, thousandsof men on the street.(152)

However, the everyday reality of bankruptcy is more urgent, humiliating and banal for

Leo and Toni. Threatened with a potential order to repossessgoods, they have to send,among other things, their children*sbicycles to his mother's house'for safekeeping'in order that they not be taken. His thoughtsthen turn on the causeof their debt, the 'fine travel' and the 'thousandson luxury items alone' (153). In this small remembrance,Carver presentsthe past,present and future. The latter appearsas a ominous presence,as a threat over their lifestyle as they face bankruptcy.it is reminder that the 'reality' of financial ruin is very far removedfrom the ideal of Finch and his resurgence.Carver is stripping nostalgiaand sentimentalityfrom his fiction.

Rather, it is a b1cak,troubled time and thoseevents which causedit now return to 255 tormenthim. As Leo finishesrecalling how they cameto find themselvesin this situation,he beginswith a faint nostalgia,but endswith his undershirtsoaked with

he j ] he hang himself sweat,as considerswhether: ... should with his belt' (153).

The threatof ruin is projectedonto thoughtsof suicideand later, direct towardsToni when he suspectsshe has been unfaithful. As shereturns:

Sheworks her lips, ducks heavily and swaysas he cocks his fist.

"Go ahead," shesays thickly. Shestands there swaying.Then

shemakes a noiseand lunges,catches his shirt, tearsit down the front.

"Bankrupt!" shescreams. (155-156)

Even when the momentbecomes violent and immediate,it is expressedwith the same pareddown 'unemphaticness'.Violence is threatenedbut rarely occurs.When it does, as in the exampleabove, it is pathetic,banal and inconclusive.Unlike Hemingway"s

6code'which expressesthe violence of war and bullfighting, Carver*sviolence is presentby threat,and is nevervalorised or dignified as it sometimesis in

Hemingway's later fiction.29 When it doesoccur as part o(the central narrative,in such storiesas 'Bicycles MusclesCigarettes' it is incredible,a hardly believableend to a seriesof increasinglystrange events:

29The Hemingwayof In Our Timethus seemsquite at odds with the later Hemingwayof Death in the Afternoon, who by then was keento write approvingly of horrible death.It might be the close proximity with his injury that explains his overall reticenceto glorify war; but certainly violence is capturedas part of the mechanicsof war, and its terrible effects are outlined with sympathyfor Nick Adams in 'A Big Two-HeartedRiver'. 256

"Watch out now, get out of my way! " Berman brushed Hamilton's

shoulderand Hamilton steppedoff the porch into someprickly

cracking bushes. He couldn't believe it was happening. He moved

out of the bushesand lungedat the man where he stoodon the

porch. (146-147)

The senseof 'menace'is moreprevalent that the actualact of violence.Such menace is

somethingCarver considers valuable in a shortstory, as he claimsin the essay'On

Writing': 'I like it whenthere is somefeeling of threator senseof menacein short

stories'." He addsthat what createsthis prizedsense of threator menaceis the 'concrete

words' on the page but also 'the things that are left out, that are implied'. " What Carver

moreoften leavesout is violence,despite its threatbeing felt. This excisionrepresents a

furthermovement away from the extremelocations and events characteristic of In Our

Time. When Jay McInerney suggestedthat Hemingway's idiom was no longer suitable

for the expressionof contemporary life, the treatment of violence in Hemingway is a

good example; Carver would reject Hemingway's 'romantic egoism* when expressing

violent acts. The movement from Hemingway, through Carver to Frederick Barthelme

andhis contemporariesis a refinementof the useof everydaysituations. From

Hemingway's bull-fighting,to Carver'sbleak, desperation, cý war and urbanand suburban to Barthelme'sshopping malls, condominiums and pool parties,the trendhas been to focusever more intentlyupon the mostcommonplace activities of contemporary

Carver (1994), p. 26. Carver (1994), p. 26. 257

Americanlife. This is onereason, along with the interestin the clearexpression of the

surfacedetails of description,that minimalismhas become linked with a 'hyper-realism', a tendency to expressthe banal with a seemingly equally banal idiom.

TheRealistic Character

Carvermakes people, his characters,the centreof his work. In doing so, he is placed within the realist tradition of thosewho seekto show life with fidelity. This also makeshim at oddswith what Robert Rebein,amongst others, notes was the dominant modeof expressionat the time of publication of Will YouPlease Be Quiet Please?, 32 where the main focus was on language. Carverhimself was critical of post- modernismand especiallyits reflexivity and experimentalism.In his unfavourable review of "scollection of stories,Great Days, he saysof post- modern fiction:

fictions [ ] is, in theseshort ... there almost without exception,a serious

lack of interestand concernon the part of the author for his characters.

[] They are neverto be found in situationsthat might revealthem as

less human [ ] In characterswith more or normal reactions. ... a word

33 there is absolutelyno value to anything.

32R. Rebein Hicks, Tribesand Dirty Realists:American Fiction After (Kentucky: The University Pressof Kentucky, 2001), p. 49. 33W. Stull (ed.) RaymondCarver: Call if Iou NeedAle: The UncollectedFiction and Prose(London: Harvill, 2000), pp. 239-240. 258

Hemingway almost always opens his stories with a vivid description of a sense of place and time. This is often missing in Carver's work, and is replaced instead on the context of the character. Despite the obvious clues, such as place names, this strips the stories' locations of their particularity. The effect for the reader is that the focus is widened and therefore more easily recognised: these stories widen their scope to encompass much of Middle America and even elsewhere in the

Westernworld. Many of his stories could have taken place at roughly the same time. Unlike Hemingway's stories of exodus,or war, they do not contain much in the way of overt historical contextualisation. One suggestionfor the reasonfor this difference is their genesis:Carver's work came out of pedagogy,of writing groups and post-graduateseminars, rather than Hemingway's journalist apprenticeship and background in the war. Their areasof interest and ambitions are quite different. Carver's realism, then, is a fidelity to realistic characterisationwhich avoids an overt interest in a specific historical location or time or a referenceto current affairs. In doing so, he retains much of Hemingway's idiom while avoiding

Hemingway's subject.

Carver's immediateworld is smaller than Hemingway's but no lessconcentrated: in theseseemingly small lives there exists a grandersignificance. Carver is quick to move on to the situation of the individual. For example'Collectors' beginswith an emotional scenesetting: 259

I was out of work. But any day I expected to hear from up north. I

lay on the sofa and listenedto the rain. Now and then I'd lift up

and look through the curtain to the mailman. (76)

Thereis no clearsense of placeor time, only of charactersituation. This is commonin

Carver; stories like 'Are You A DoctorT and 'Fat' also exemplify this development.

Becauseof this focuson characterhe is quickly ableto moveinto the initial conflict that instigatesand sustains the narrativemomentum of the story.In the caseof 'Collectors', that conflict is betweenthe narratorand the salesman.Carver replaces the wider geographicalcontexts of Hemingwaywith a morelocal one,a strategythat immediately informsus of his realistambition to focusmore intentlyupon the commonplace.In his essay 'On Writing' in Fires, Carver tells us about his ambitions as a short story writer:

V. S. Pritchett's definition of a short story is 'something glimpsed

from in ( ] First the corner of the eye, passing'. ... the glimpse.

Then the glimpse given life, turned into somethingthat illuminates

[ ] have further the momentand may ... even ranging consequences

and meaning.The short story writer's task is to investthe glimpse

34 with all that is in his power.

" Carver (1994), pp. 26-27. 260

The glimpse implies that the readerencounter the story directly, without the kind of contextualisat ion found in Hemingway.Although they adhereto the forins and conventionsof the short story by providing an extract from what is an otherwise larger story, Carver's 'glimpse' is more focussedupon the specific momentsin the life of his characters.This narrowing of focus leadsus to anotherimportant difference betweenHemingway and Carver.The focus becomesso intensethat the readerfinds single charactersunder scrutiny in Carver's work. Hemingway's storiesmostly dependupon the conflict betweencharacters; Carver's often developthe conflict within a single character.The initial conflict is often a productof multiple characters.

But the rising action (that momentthat movesinevitably towardsthe finale, or denouement)is often expressedwithin a single character.This hasmuch to do with the natureof the characterin the storiesof Hemingwayand Carver.Hemingway's charactersseem to maintain their integrity, especiallyin the caseof Nick Adams. As I have shown in the previouschapter, Hemingway presents Adams as heroic, whose struggle is not merely againsthimself but againstexternal forces. In 'A Big Two-

HeartedRiver% for example,the readerfind the demonsthat hauntNick expressedas a phenomenonthat exists outsideof Nick, the dark swarnpinto which he fearsto venture.There is little suggestionthat Nick is in part responsiblefor his fear: it is causedby an external force acting upon him. However, in Carverthe protagonistis often anti-heroic,and is often confused,unmotivated and disinterested.In 'Are These

Actual MilesT Leo is found attemptingto cometo termswith his own anxiety about his financial situation which he fearsmight disturb his relationshipwith Toni. After a long afternoondrinking and thinking about Toni, he becomesdesperate: 261

He sits on the stepwith the empty glassin his hand

and watchesthe shadowsfill up the yard. He stretches,wipes

his face. He listensto the traffic on the highway and considers

whetherhe shouldgo to the basement,stand on the utility sink,

and hang himself with his belt. He understandshe is willing to

be dead.(153)

Like Nick in 'A Big Two-HeartedRiver', Leo is attemptingto cometo terms with

eventsthat have spiralledout of his control. But the conflict is within himself. In the

main part of the story, Leo is alone, anaesthetisinghimself with alcohol and turning

his angerand frustration againsthimself. His uneasinesswith the outsideworld,

illustrated later in the story with him not being able to understandwhat is being said

when watching the television (154) is in sharpcontrast to Nick's harmonywith the

natural world. Moreover, Leo is trappedin that he only dimly understandhow he

might overcomehis difficulty, whereasNick seemsfully awarethat he must address

his problemsdirectly eventhough he is reluctantto act. Facingan existentialist

dilerni-na,Leo can only turn upon himself in order to find a way out of his troubles.

Arthur Brown divides Carver's early and late careerin to 'existential realism' and

'humanist realism' and explainshow and why his work becamemore expansive,most 35 notably with the publication of Cathedral. In this early collection, the solitary man

'5 A. Brown 'Raymond Carverand PostmodernHumanism' Crilique 31.2 Winter 1990pp. 125-136 262 dispossessedby God, compelledby ennui and desperation,obsessed by self- determinationyet without a senseof metaphysicalmorality make Brown's definition a useful one. 263

CHAPTER FOUR

'If You Can Do Anything, Then You Can Do Nothing'

Frederick Barthelme's Contemporary Minimalism,

This chapter aims to bring us to contemporary minimalism in the form of a writer who still writes stories in the minimalist style, Frederick Barthelme. Following the structure of this thesis thus far, I shall divide this chapter into five parts. In the first part I approach Barthelme's work in terms of its literary historical, historical and publication context. In the second part, I demonstrate how the use of the second- person narrator problematizes the relationship between author and implied reader.

Such confusion surrounding who the narrative addressesundermines the normative function of literatureto explain the significanceof the narrative.In the third part, I discusshow Barthelme'suse of the brand-namedeveryday object is drainedof any figurative significanceand is insteadreplaced as an indicator of commercialstatus.

Objects no longeroperate solely within the normsof figurative languagebut instead function as commoditieswithin a discourseof marketingand advertising.Next, I analyseseveral of the endingsof the storiesand how they developminimalism's resistanceto provide a satisfactorilyresolved ending (following Hemingway and

Carver) by revealingvery little, either. I suggestBarthelme's Moon Deluxe represents an ever increasingtendency towards an extrememinimalist style, where many of the methodsof equivocationfound in Hemingwayand Carver are presentin a more 264 severe form. Barthelme's fiction is an example of the contemporary trend to further reduction in Minimalism and as such, solicits a relatively demanding form of reader response.In the final part, I focus on Moon Deluxe as a fundamentally realist collection of short stories, with especial reference to the ways in which the discourse of marketing objectifies his characters.

Barthelme'sMoon Deluxe is also a concertedexample of minimalism's tendencyto demandan engagedinterpretation through omission.It pursues,almost in its very fabric, a will towardsequivocation. This makesit, following Iser's work on ambiguity, a demandingread. There are a variety of reasonsfor this but they can all be encompassedunder a single principle: Moon Deluxe rejectsthe normative function of literary fiction to explain. How this operatesin practiceand how it illurninatesour understandingof minimalism and its effect upon the readeris the subjectof this chapter. 265

Part One: Contextualising Moon Deluxe In his defenceof minimalism, 'Convicted Minimalist Spills Beans', Frederick

Barthelmereveals his perspectiveon the origins and developmentof his minimalist style. Recountingthe intellectualenvironment in which he beganto develophis own voice, he remembershow minimalist writers suchas RaymondCarver were reacting againstpost-modernist fiction:

A couple of peoplehad alreadyturned the post-modemon its head.

RaymondCarver, who mustve thought,"Well, if you can do anything,

maybeyou can do nothing," did. '

'[ ]a brilliant idea: DescribingCarver's methodas: ... self-imposedpoverty of means, 2 the inverted imageof the usualproliferations', Barthelmedescribes how minimalism developednot merely as an appendageto post-modernistfiction but as a reaction againstit. Barthelme'sAloon Deluxe was publishedin 1983just two yearsafter what many considerto the masterpieceof minimalist fiction, RaymondCarver's What I'Ve

Talk About WhenWe Talk About Love. If Will YouPlease Be Quiet, Please?had introduceda new voice - and the re-emergenceof the minimalist style following

Hemingway's innovations- What We Talk About WhenWe TalkAbout Love fiction latter consolidatedseveral of the criteria by which minimalist of the twentieth down would be defined. Stylistically, Carver further honedhis methodologyof paring the syntax,vocabulary, sentence structure and figurative languageto producea prose that appearedsparse, unadorned, even plain. Plots and sceneswere suggestedwith the

'F. Barthelme,F. 'On Being Wrong: ConvictedMinimalist Spills Beans' TheNew York TimesBook Review3/4/1998, pp. 25 2 Barthelme(1998), p. 25. 266 merestof sketches,their conclusionsvague, the significanceof their endings inconclusive.The effects upon the readerwere proportionally stark. Facedwith such apparentpaucity, the role of the implied readerbecame more demanding,necessarily watchful of the smallestdetail (suchas the changingpatterning of 'shoes' in 'What's in Alaska?'), not unlike that of the readerof poetry. Carver's minimalism appearedto take to extremesthe notion that his enterprisewas one of constraint,dependent upon omissionfor its effects.Indeed, critics tend to agreethat What We Talk Aboui When

We Talk About Love is an evenmore extremeexample of the minimalist tendencyto strip back its proseand reduceit meansof effect than anythingthat camebefore.

In his defenceof his practiceand methods,Barthelme offers his own definition of this kind of minimalism, or at leasta definition basedupon that of how it is seenin the literary pages of newspapers and magazines. What he calls 'the new, faulty literature' can be partially defined as a literature:

[] aboutthings left out and whole tensesturning up bum, not to mention

indictmentsfor excessivereticence, moral snorkelingand too much 3 time in a grocery store.

What this tongue-in-cheektone belies is severalimportant criteria of literary minimalism as Barthelmeand his contemporariesunderstood it. As I have shown, define minimalism is, paradoxically,'about' things left out. Indeed,such omissions minimalist fiction. Barthelme's 'excessivereticence' points to the absentnarrator,

3 Barthelme(1998), p. 25. 267 whose effacementoften leavesone with the senseof anotherof his presumedcriteria,

'moral snorkelling', implying that the narrativesoften refuseto outline a moral theory orjudge the behaviourof its characters.One of the more prominenteffects and indeed deliberateprinciples of this style was the invitation for the readeractively to participate in the creationof the text's meaning.When minimalist writers omit certain details - as I have shown in my analysisof Hemingway's 'iceberg' principle, or

Carver's interruptedepiphany without closure- the readeris left with an interpretativegap which they must fill. As a writing of restraint,minimalism continually reworks the premiseof omission,and invites the readerto participatein the text in ways other literaturenot dependentupon this breadthand depth of omission do not. As Barthelmenotes of his enterprise:

Tell them that you prefer to think you're leaving room for the

readers, at least the ones who like to use their imaginations; that

you hope that those readers hear the whispers, catch the feints and

shadows, gather the traces, sensethe pressures,and that meanwhile

the prose tricks them into the drama, and the drama breaks their 4 hearts. Just like old times.

One of the most pervasiveexamples of Barthelme'siconoclastic ambition can be found in his rejection of what he calls 'extraordinarycircumstances', the subjectsof what he seesas conventionalfiction:

Barthelme(1998), p. 27. 268

For I this literary [ ] good measure, added twist - types ... always seemedto write aboutpeople in extraordinarycircumstances.

Cultural issues,personal crises, drug addictions,terrible accidents,

diseases,wars, deaths,rapes, violence of every kind, magic times, 5 epiphanies,et cetera.

The ideathat the interpretativesignificance of the narrativeis partially a function of

the 'extraordinary' quality of the centralaction is missing from Moon Deluxe. As a

result, it is thoroughly immersedin the everydayworld of urban,white America

during the late seventiesand early eighties.Nothing much happens(at least,by the

standardsof conventionalshort storiesand especiallywhen comparedto either

Hemingwayor Carver) and when it does,events are so prosaicthat they seemtrivial,

even banal. Ultimately, the methodsof the minimalist style convergewith an interest

in 'minimal' experience,that is, the commonplace,seemingly unprofitable areas of

interestfor literary fiction.

One suggestion critics make is it that there is 'nothing' left and that the lives of its

protagonists (and by extension, our lives) are empty and insignificant. This critical response to Moon Deluxe in particular and to the minimalism it in general represents

is commonplace. Here it is reflected in a review of Moon Deluxe by David

MacFarlane:

Although [his] effects often havethe nightmarishquality of Kafka,

there is seldomanything fantasticabout his stories.[The character's]

5 F. Barthelme The Lov ofAverages: SelecledFiction (Washington: Counterpoint, 2000), pp. xv-xvi. 269

peculiar fate is simply to be dropped headlong, without explanation,

into the shopping malls, apartments, offices and homes of the latter half

of the 20'h century. In such a world the connections and relationships

that fiction is so often built upon simply do not exist. Boy does not get

Reasonsdo become In fact [ ] girl. not clear. ... nothing much ever happens. [ ] Why Barthelme ... should stories add up, asks, when the

world they are written about does not?6

It is the final line of this critique which informs my overall appreciation of Moon

Deluxe and is consequently worth repeating: 'Why should stories add up, Barthelme

asks, when the world they are written about does noff

Moon Deluxe (1983, US) hasbeen described as the first and the third of Frederick

Barthelme'spublications. In the introductionto the new and selectedshort stories

Law ofAverages Bahhelmedescribes how he cameto put togetherhis first collection! His brother Donald,at that time in 1969a successfulwriter and editor, j ]a book in bag loose was askedto write an experimentalwork: ... a - sheets,read 8 6ernin any order, that sort of thing'. Donald declinedbut Fredericktook it up. That commissionfrom Winter Housewas publishedunder the title Rangoon(1970 US), in

form Barthelme j ]a hybrid faux the of what calls: ... of stories, stories,nonstories,

' D. MacFarlane"Adrift in a Modem Dream: Review of AfoonDehlxe' MacLean's (8 Aug. 1983), p.5 1. 7 Law ofAverages is a title that doesmuch to suggesthis interestin the 'average' life of his characters interestin and settings,as well as his gambling. 8 Barthelmc (2000), P. X. 270

drawings,photos, diagrams, lists, assertions,visual art gamesand whatnot. 9A

similar collection appearedunder the guise of a novel; called War and War (1971), a

'patchwork of lifts' from severaldifferent sources.Barthelme says of theseearly

experiments:'They weren't literary works of any kind, really [... ] Thesebooks were

Dumpstersfor half-digestedinformation, half-realizedideas'. 10 Barthelme's literary

methodseems, at leastin principle, to connectbroadly with someliterary idea of the

late 1960s,as he makesclear in his part biographicalsketch, part defenceof

minimalism, 'Convicted Minimalist Spills Beans'.As Barthelmehimself points out,

his first publications,Rangoon and War and War havebecome collectors' items, and

althoughof great interestto the dedicatedBarthelme collector, have little direct

significancein the study of his developmentof minimalism and appearto be more " aligned to post-modernexperiments with fiction.

When he began to put together the first book proposal, it was his agent Andrew Wylie who suggestedthat they 'simply not mention these two first books and instead start

12 over with anew collection of Neiv Yorker stories'. These stories were published together in what was ostensibly his 'first' publication but it was technically his third,

Moon Deluxe. Barthelme followed this successful publication with two novels,

Second Marriage (1984, US) and Tracer (1985, US), before he published his second collection of short stories, Chronia (1987, US). After publishing five novels, including the critically acclaimed Natural Selection (1990, US), he published Double

9 Barthelme (2000), p. xi.

"' Barthclme (2000), p. xii. 11A futurestudy could suggest ways in whichthese two textsrepresented a precursor to his minimalism;they certainly seem to haveprefigured his interestin experimentaland avant-garde forins of writing,which is presentin his minimalistwriting. 12Barthelme (2000), p. xii. 271

Doivn (1999,US), a non-fiction accountof his gambling lossesand subsequent

accusationof cheatingand chargewith fraud, which resultedin his acquittal.A

collection of new and selectedstories was publishedin 2000 underthe title The LWv

ofAverages(2000, US). He hasalso written the text for a collection of photographs

by SusanLanger called Trip (2000, US), which demonstratehis interestin describing

the commonplaceworld.

in keepingwith my interestin the emergentminimalism of eachwriter under

consideration,I would like to focus upon Moon Deluxe.Typically, I have usedas a justification for my choicethe notion that early work often displaysa purer form of

minimalism, one that eventuallyexpands and thereforeloosens as the writer's career

develops. This is certainly the case with Hemingway and Carver, as I have shown.

But more than either Hemingway or Carver, Barthelme has persisted with a more

uniformly minimalist style, resisting the temptation to become more expansive in later

work, without edging towards either a quasi-spiritualism or sentimentality that is

found in the later Carver, especially Calhedral. In the final story to be published in

Lmv ofAverages and therefore the most recent example of his fiction 'Elroy Nights', 13 Barthelme retains his minimalist credentials. Moreover, his novels also exhibit many

of the elementsof the minimalist style, a reminderthat a definition of minimalism is not dependentupon scale.Indeed, in his introductionto the Law ofAverages,he tells of a methodthat seemsto suggestthat there is little difference,at leastinitially, in prosefound in his novelsand short fiction:

" Those 'credentials' do not remainconstant in all areas,however, and someof the storiesin Chroma move away from his adherenceto 'ordinary' subjectsto contain storieson suchextreme subjects as incest and murder. 272

This is to say I have no qualms about hacking up my work and

putting it back together to suit different purposes. If I like something

in a story I'll use it as a story, then sometimes redo it for use in a 14 novel.

That many of the storieswere once intendedfor novels andvice versatells us how

interchangeablehis approachis, equally applicableto the short story and novel; and

minimalism is style of writing suitedto both the novel andthe story, althoughas this

thesisattempts to claim, it has specialmanifestation in the short story.

Although there is a dangerof too simple a corollary, it doesappear that Barthelme's

methodchanged to reflect an influence in developmentsin short fiction. During the

time of composingRangoon and War and War, severalcollections of post-modern

fiction were published. 1968was a particularly significant year,which saw the

publication of John Barth's Lost in the Funhouse,Donald Barthelme's Unspeakable

Practices, UnnaturalActs; Welcometo the MonkeyHouse by Kurt Vonnegut,Jr. and

In the Heart of1he Country by William H. Gass.Both Rangoonand War and Trar

reflect someof the attributesof post-modemfiction, and for contemporarycritics

were very much aligned to the movement.When Barthelmewas writing Moon

Deluxe, there were severalpublications that moved steadilyaway from post-

modernismtowards a more realistic representation.As we haveseen, John Cheever's

The Stories ofJohn Cheever(1978), representedsomething of a transitionalpoint,

mixing fantasywith realism.Two yearsearlier Carverhad publishedWill YouPlease

Be Quiet, Please?(1976) and it is possiblethat Barthelmehad read What We Talk

14Barthelme (2000), p. xvii 273

About WhenWe Talk About Love (1981). Even if he had not, then he most surely could not have ignoredthe greatdeal of attentionCarver was getting from the critics and readersalike.

Donald Barthelme:Posi-modernism and Mininialism The influential studyAmerican Fictions 194011980by FrederickR. Karl includesa chaptercalled 'The Possibilitiesof Minimalism' in which Donald Barthelmeis the focus:

The 1960sand 1970shave produced a small body of minimalists,

of whom Donald Barthelmeis the most practiced,and his

TheDead Faiher the most expertexample. 15

Karl is one of several critics who refer to Donald as a minimalist, further confusing the definition of minimalism and so undermining a straightforward contrast between minimalism and post-modernism. As late as 1989 in John Kuehl's Alternate Worlds:

A Study ofPostniodern Antirealistic American Fiction, fourteen years after Raymond

Carver first published Will You Please Be Quiet, Please? and six years after Moon

Deluxe, Donald was still being called a minimal iSt.16 In this extract by Donald

Barthelmefrom TheDeadFather we notice how his useof a terse,elliptical syntax is similar to that found in much minimalist writing:

A halt. The men lay down the cable.The men regardJulie from a

distance.The Edmundlifts flask lips. men standingabout ... to

'5 F. R. Karl American Fictions 19401'1980:A ComprehensiveIlisjory and Critical Evaluation (New York: Harper and Row, 1983),p. 384. 16J. Kuehl Alternate Worlds:A StudyofPostmodern Antirealist American Fiction (New York: New York University Press,1989). 274

Thomas removes flask. Protest by Edmund. Reproof from Thomas.

Julie gives Edmunda chaw of bhang.Gratitude of Edmund.17

TheDead Father is a novel which exhibits an often extremelysparse, even fragmentary,idiom the short sentencesof which often omitted subordinateclauses, adjectival colouring or qualifying statements.As we seefrom the example,it also usesrepetition and avoidsan obtrusivenarrator. As such,it can be aligned to several defining elementsof minimalism. Yet, as Frederickillustrates in the introduction to

Lmv ofAverages,the divisions betweenhis work and his brother's, were a particular exampleof what was taking place on a more generallevel: writers were reacting againstpost-modernism. Before the 'New Fiction' of Carver,Frederick Barthelme and Bobbie Ann Mason had establishedthemselves as representativeof a group of writers who cameto be called Minimalists, it was possibleto be both a postmodernist and a minimalist. As Minimalism developeda more sophisticatedapproach and definition, postmodernismand minimalism becameincreasingly mutually exclusive, until it becameno longer tenableto be both a postmodemistand a Minimalist.

Donald Barthelme'sfiction exhibits a numberof defining criteria for minimalism, namely the useof the short sentenceswhich are unqualifiedand unembellishedby the narratorand an infrequentuse of adjectives/adverbsand when used,are not extravagant.However, his work containsa numberof elementsthat do not square with my definition of minimalism. FrederickBarthelme details someof thosemost important elementsin his expositionof how he reactedagainst his brother's work.

17Kuehl, p. 104. 275

Those elements align Donald more closely with post-modem fiction and Frederick with minimalism, and they form the basis for my comparison. One central element against which Frederick reacted was the primacy of what he calls 'the big L-language' in post-modem fiction. He writes: 'I came to think that character was a richer kind of language than language itself. "

This is at oddswith Donald's theory of language,upon which his post-modemstyle is founded.For Frederick,reality is basedupon authenticcharacterisation; for Donald, realism is predicatedupon language.Frederick is a conventionalrealist in the sense that he considerslanguage a transparentmedium for the representationof reality; whereasDonald is a post-modernistin that he seeslanguage as a medium which confineswhat we know and defineswhat is 'real'. In his study, TheShort Story:

Reality ofArtiflice, CharlesE. May suggeststhe premiseupon which Donald's interest in language:'For [Donald] Barthelme,the problemof languageis the problem of reality, for reality, he implies, is the result of the languageprocess9.19

Frederickmaintains a fundamentallyrealist modeof discourse.As May makesclear,

display interest in how language Donald's stories an the media and 4ý1manipulates characters,rather than expressingthem as individuals:

[Donald] Barthelmeis not really interestedin the personalof his

characters;in fact, few seemto havepersonal lives. Rather,he

18Barthelme (2000), p. xv. 19May, C. E. TheShort Story: TheReality ofArlifice (New York: Routledge,2002), p. 87. 276

wishesto presentmodern men and women as the productsthe

med'laand the languagethat surroundthem. 20

In the extract from 'The DeadFather', humaninteraction is parodied,reduced to a set of terse,almost inhumanprocesses: 'Protest by Edmund', 'Reproof from Thomas'.

Indeed,the whole conceit in Donald Barthelme'sstory 'The Balloon' servesas an exampleof how he underminesrealism by supplantingit with fantasy.The story is about a balloon that hasovershadowed the city, to which peoplereact and try to explain. At the end of the story, we cometo learn that the balloon is a metaphorfor the protagonist'sfeelings, an objectification of his inner mentalstate. The useof an object to representa subjectivestate can be found throughoutminimalist fiction and indeed,throughout short fiction. However,the key difference is that Donald's object could never exist as an object in the real world. It exists only as an object within the fictional world, as a metaphorand consequentlyis not what Hemingwaywould considera plausiblesymbol; it would be impossibleto fit a balloon arounda city in the real world. FrederickBarthelme recognised the post-moderninterest in fantasy and the traditional stories' interestin unusualcircumstances and rejectedit, as I will show. The Post-moderninterest in languagegames and its anti-rcalist enterprisesees it divorced from it minimalism, which is a literaturecommitted to a realism.

Historical Context

Barthelme's interestin realism saw him absorband addressthe issuesof his contemporaries,and they are worth briefly considering.Howard Zinn cites numerous examplesof a mutedcivil unrest,most of which are demonstratedthrough protestand

2' May (2002), p. 88. 277

campaign. He explains this as a result of the Vietnam war: 'Undoubtedly, much of

this national mood of hostility to government and business came of the Vietnam war,

its 55,000 casualties, its moral shame, its exposure to lies and atrocities'. 21

One such 'lie' was the Watergatescandal, which saw PresidentRichard Nixon faced

with impeachment,only to resign in 1974.Since the mid- I 960s,people were

becomingincreasingly suspicious of large governmentalorganisations and big

business.Yet in the 1970sthe sit-ins, protestsand violent riots had all but

disappeared.As Snowmanand Bradbury point out:

The new tone of the post-Nixon Seventies - less confrontation,

less public drama, more emphasis on personal integrity and local

self-help - was found notjust in politics but in many of the broader

currents of national life [.. ] Now emphasis was on matters more

directly the individual [ ] Small, in the book affecting ... words of a becarne is beautiful [ ] The Seventies title that a political slogan,4-D ... 22 were much more mutedthat the Sixties.

By 1980when the fon-nerfilm-star Ronald Reagantook over from Jimmy Carteras the president,the United Stateswas in a full-scale recession.Inflation was extremely high and growing; grossnational productwas in decline and unemploymentfigures rose to over 9% of the workforce:

2' H. Zinn, A People'sHistory ofthe UniledSlates(London: Longman, 1980),p. 530. 22M. Bradbury and H. Temperley(eds. ) An Introduction to American Studies(London: Longman, 1981), p. 288. 278

Perhapsmuch of the general dissatisfaction was due to the economic

state of most Americans. Inflation and unemployment had been

rising steadily since 1973, which was the year when, according to

a Harris poll, the number of Americans feeling 'alienated' and ?3 'disaffected' with the general state of the country climbed

Moon Deluxe was written at a time of great economicdifficulty for the United States which was paradoxicallycombined with origins of early microprocessortechnology and a rise in the numberof electronicconsumer items. Peoplewere beginningto questionwhere suchdevelopments in new technologymight lead and its benefits,just at a time when the acquisitionof thousandsof retail outletsand real estateby large corporationsled to building developments,including shoppingmalls, which have homogenisedthe American landscape.The growth of the power of the commercial brandwas a significant part of thesechanges:

Until the early seventies, logos on clothes were generally

hidden from [ ] In the late the fashion view ... seventies, when

world rebelled against Aquarian flamboyance, the country-club

wear of the fifties became mass style for newly conservative

[ ] These logos the function as parents ... served same social

keeping the clothingýs price tag on: everyone knew precisely

for [ ] By the what premium the wearer was willing to pay style ...

[ ] the logo transformed from mid-eighties ... was an ostentatious 24 affectation to an active fashion accessory.

' Zinn, p. 545. 279

Minimalist realism,with its intenseinterest in the accuratedepiction of the surfaceof

everydayreality, observesthat the everydayobject now baresa brand name.Naming

the brand is part of the minimalist enterprisein accuratelydescribing everyday reality.

But for Barthelmeit hasa literary function as colouring the imageryof everyday

reality. Pound's Imagism,with its emphasisupon the accurateexpression of a single

imagehas been updated in Barthelme'sminimalist world, by branding it and making

it a commodity.

It

24N. Klein No Logo (London: Flamingo,2000), p. 28. 280

The Second-Person Narrator in Moon Deluxe Amongstthe three writers underconsideration, Barthelme is the only one to usethe second-personnarrator. This methodof narrativeperspective appears in four of the seventeenstories, 'Shopgirls', 'Moon Deluxe', 'Pool Lights' and 'Safeway'. In second-personnarration, the narratoraddresses 'you', a fictional 'you' that constitutes an implied reader,a generalisedreadership, or the narratoraddressing him or herself. indeed,it might changewithin a single text, or hover betweenmore than one identity simultaneously.In this section,I suggestways in which this instability of address underminesthe capacityof thesestories to communicateexplanations and undermines the narrator'srole as the provider of significant experience.

The study of the second-personnarrator has developed greatly sinceWayne C. Booth

in his Rheloric j ] have declared ofFiction that: ... efforts to usethe second-person never beenvery successful[... and that] it is astonishinghow little real differenceeven 25 this choice makes'. Scholarssuch as Monika Fludernik, Gerald Princeand more recently Matt DelContehave responded to the growing numberof secondperson narrativesby exploring the ways in which it is definedand the effects its use might have. I demonstratehow their work can be applied to a readingof the second-person narratorto show how the identity of 'you' can refer to, in turn, the implied reader,a homogenisedreadership and finally, the centralprotagonist addressing himself.

25M. Delconte 'Why You Can't Speak:Second-person Narration, voice, and a New Model for UnderstandingNarrative'Style Summer2003, p. 1. Wayne C. Booth's Rheforic ofFiction was originally publishedin 1961. 281

'You'as the Implied Reader To begin with, I focus on the ways in which the 'you' might refer to the implied readerdirectly. This is best illustratedby comparisonto other second-person narrativesfound elsewhere.In the following extracts,the first is from the openingof

'Shopgirls' in Moon Deluxe and is typical of the way in which the second-person narrator is employedthroughout the collection:

You watch a pretty salesgirlslide a box of Halston soaponto

a low shelf, watch her braid slip off her shoulder,watch like an

adolescentas the vent at the neck of her blouseopens slightly -

She catches you staring and gives you a perfunctory but knowing

smile, and you turn quickly to study the purses on the chrome rack

26 next to where you stand.

Comparethis to the kind of secondperson narrator used in 's novel Ifon a Winter's Night a Traveller:

You are aboutto begin readingItalo Calvino"s new novel,

If on a winter's night a traveller. Relax. Concentrate.Dispel every

other thought. Let the world aroundyou fade. Bestto closethe

door; the TV is always on in the next room.27

" F. BarthelmeMoon Deluxe(New York: Grove Press,1983), p. 23. All subsequentpage numbers in the text refer to this edition. 271. Calvino Ifon a Winter's Night a Traveller (London: Vintage, 1998),p. 3 282

In the first example,the useof the second-personnarrator creates the illusion that the

implied readeris a part of the narrative.The 'you' the narratorrefers to is the implied

reader.As a result, the actionsof 'you' becomethe actionsof the implied reader.The

implied readertemporarily assumesthe role of the centralprotagonist in the story,

given that the address'you' is always at the centreof the story.

In contrast,in Calvino, the 'you' directly communicateswith an implied readerand

acknowledgestheir identity as an actual reader.In doing so, this secondperson

narrativeaddresses an implied readerwho it seemswill not be assimilatedinto the

narrativebut will be necessarilyseparate from it. The physicalprocess of reading,

including severalreferences to the particularitiesof creatingthe right physical

environmentin which one might read, is foregrounded,effectively reminding the

readerthat he or she is a reader,not a characterwithin the narrative.In a sense,it

sharesa similar principle to Bertold Brecht's 'alienation effect', where the audienceis

remindedthat what they are watching is a fictional drama,lest they becometoo

involved in its dramaticexpression to becomeunmoved by its ideological critique.

The differencebetween second-person narrators found in the extractsabove is an

important one, for eachtype has its concomitanteffects. 28 Matt De]Contemakes the distinction between'intradiegetic addressee'and 'extradiegeticimplied reader'. Here, diegesismeans the 'telling' of the narrative.It is opposedto 'mimesis' which refersto the 'showing' of the narrative.More specifically, it is usedby narratologiststo refer to

28There are many different types of second-personnarrator, each with their own effects.For example, Ron Butlin's 'The Tilting Room' hasa consciousnessaddressing itself in the second-person.See DelConte, p. 6passim 283 the primary narrative and the narrative'world' createdas a result. Thus,

'intradiegetic' refers specifically to elementswithin the main story whilst the

4extradiegetic'refers to elementsoutside of it.

In the exampleof the 'you' referring to the implied reader,he or shebecomes the intradiegeticaddressee because they exist within the world createdby the central narrative,that is, they assume(albeit temporarily) the identity of the central protagonist.As such,minimalism's potential to involve the readerin the very fabric of the narrative is being further developedby Barthelme'suse of the second-person narrator,which explicitly encouragesinvolvement through the rhetorical device of intradiegeticaddressee second-person narration. In the examplefrom Calvino, the

6you' refersmore directly to the implied readerwho exists outsideof the narrative, that is, in an extradiegeticsense. As a result, the extradiegeticimplied readerof

Calvino is notably distancedfrom the illusion of participating in the eventsof the narrativeas he or she is specifically signpostedas readingit, and so are necessarily removedfrom it. As such,the Calvino extract can be expressedas a form of metalepsis,defined by narratologistH. PorterAbbott as:

A violation of narrativenorms [where the diegesis]is invadedby an

extradiegeticentity of entities,as for examplewhen a 'spectator' leapson

stageand becomespart of the action, or the 'author' appearsand starts 29 quarrelling with one of the characters.

29 H. Porter Abbott The CambridgeIntroduction to Narrative (Cambridge:Cambridge University Press,2002), p. 193. 284

Rhetorically,the useof the readeras an intradiegeticaddressee as a result of the use

of the second-personnarrator is an important foundationfor the ambition of directly

implicating the implied readerin the eventsof the narrative,a developmentof

Carver's voyeur to ask the readerto becomean active, not passive,receptor. In the

examplefrom 'Shopgirls', it createsthe illusion of the implied readeras protagonist.

In this example,the minimalist style reducesany descriptivequality to help outline a

characterthat aspiresto anonymity. Barthelme'sminimalist style effectively

depersonalisesthe 'you' by stripping its actionsof adverbs,interiority, and its own

idiom: like Carver's characters,they are either unwilling or unableto articulatetheir

thoughts.This depersonalisationis a necessaryfoundation for the assimilationof the

intradiegeticaddressee into the narrative:if the 'you' of the narrative is too

completelycoloured, too narrowly defined,then it becomesincreasingly difficult for

the intradiegeticaddressee to convergewith the actionsof what hasbecome a specific

character,necessarily different from themselves.The 'you' aspiresto the kind of

absencethat Hemingway'snarrator achieves, in that it is covert, doesnot interveneor

commenton the narrativeand showsrather than tells. The richer the character

becomes,the more its specificity underminesthe role of the generalisedimplied

reader,the lessable the intradiegeticaddressee is able to sustainthe illusion that it is they who are taking part in the narrative.

This anonymity, the stripping of any specific references,the removal of motive and local colouring, or of interiority, is one of the most compelling reasonswhy

Barthelme's characterscannot function as a vehicle for the expressionof the explanationof the narrative.Bereft of motive, reasoningand development,they remain inert, and do not show any signsof developmentas the narrativeprogresses. In 285 the examplefrom 'Shopgirls', as I shall show, there is a 4circular' narrativestructure so that the second-personnarrator is shownto learn nothing: the story endsas it has begun,with the narratorhaving learnednothing but to rescuethe processof voyeurism.As such,he revealshimself as an accessiblevehicle through which the readercan experiencethe story and in doing so, implicate the readerat its core.

The useof the second-personnarrator is, in itself, a rejectionof the traditional normativefunction of the narratorto impart an explanationof the narrative.By using the second-personnarrator to implicate the intradiegeticaddressee within the narrative,Barthelme undermines the conventionof the narratoras impartial, even absent, who reliably explains the significance of the narrative, as well as narrates it. If

Hemingway's absent narrator directed the reader toward a definite interpretation by drawing their attention to the 'gaps' deliberately and significantly left, Barthelme*s second-person narrator implicates him or her directly within the narrative without a distanced, reliable and knowing narrator to inform his or her reading. Theoretically, the method seems to inculcate a sensethat intradiegetic addressee's own motives must replacethose of the characterthey temporarily 'possess'.In suchan enterprise,there is little reasonto explain why the voyeur spiesupon the shopassistants, or discover how they havecome to value so considerablythe surfaceappearance of reality over depth. Thesequestion, it seems,are raisedby the narrativeand directedat the intradiegeticaddressee. It makesno claims as to why the charactersdo as they do but insteadasks the questionof the intradiegeticaddressee: why are you watching the girls? Why do you favour appearanceover depth? 286

Naming 'You. Barriers IoAclive Reading As 'Shopgirls' progresses,the intradiegetic addresseelearns more about the actions of the character whose role he or she temporarily possesses.This undermines the notion of protagonist's anonymity, and provides a basis for the creation of the addresseeas protagonist. Monika Fludernik, in her study of the second person narrator, describes the impossibility of sustaining such anonymity:

As has been observed, many second-persontexts start out

with a passageof what appearsto be a generalized or

6generic' [ ] 'you, ' 'you' the in the ... a with which reader role

of '(any)one' can identify, but then the text proceeds to conjure

up a very specific 'you' with a specific sex, job, husband or wife,

address, interests, and so on, so that the reader has to realize that

'you' be [ 130 the must an other ...

The literal namingof the characteris an exampleof what might be learnt aboutthe

Gyou'of the narrative.This momentis wholly significant becauseit representsa turning point in the extentto which the implied readerassumes the identity of the protagonist.The momentthe 'you' is named,he or shepossesses an identity which remindsthe readerthat the 'you' is no longerthe intradiegeticaddressee. In

'Shopgirls', Barthelmeis very careful to maintain that anonymity,always making the associationbetween the implied readerand protagonistat leastostensibly plausible:

30 M. Fludemik 'SecondPerson Narrative as a Test Casefor Narratology: The Limits of Realism' Style 28 (3) 1993,pp. 9-10. 287

1[ ] "My Andrea, " ... name's what's yours?

You don't want to tell her that. "Wiley Pitts," you say. It's a

football player's name you saw in the morning paper. "I'm

thirty-six years old.

I ...I "Is your namereally Pitts?"

"Robert," you say sheepishly.'Robert Caul. I'm sorry about

the other." But RobertCaul is not your nameeither. (25,27)

The narratorhere mirrors a processthat Barthelmeasks his readerfollow. Firstly, he or shereads something (the story / 'in the morning paper) and assumehis or her identity (in this example,'Wiley Pitts', a namesuggesting both cunning and debasement).The narrator's 'identity' is no more than a temporaryfiction - precisely the kind of creationthat Barthelmeinvites us, the reader,the 'you' of the story to be.

However, in keepingwith Fludemik's description,Barthelme cannot sustain the illusion that it is the readerwho is participating.In this example,the narrativeremains plausible,at least in the sensethat it is possibleto watch a personperform these actionsas an objective stateof affairs (watching, getting caught,turning away) and record it.

But the inclusion of the sentence:'You are embarrassed.' might give the implied readerpause (23). The narratorindicates explicitly that he is omniscient(or, as I shall show below, the narrative is really an expressionof the mind of a first-persontalking to itself) and so the illusion of the implied reader'simplication within the narrativeis undermined.The narratorcould not possibly haveknowledge of how the intradiegetic 288

addresseemight feel, even though it remains a plausible suggestion that

embarrassment follows from being caught in a voyeuristic act. Yet even before the

implied reader reaches this point he or she realises that he or she can never be truly

'you'. The specificity of the character evolved in 'Shopgirls' cumulatively

undermines the sensethat the text might be directly addressing each reader. The

implied reader cannot share that character's particular actions and motives: he or she

has never watched a girl move that brand of soap and if, by coincidence he or she has,

the implied reader hardly feels Barthelme was watching them, ready to introduce them

into his fiction. Moreover, the implied reader understands that the 'you' is non-

specific in that it refers to anyone who chooses to read it. The illusion has been

shattered.There are limits to which the implied readercan be transformedinto the

intradiegeticaddressee and as such,Barthelme's method of second-personnarration is

only useful so far in encouragingthe active participationof the implied reader.But it

is an importantstep in suggestingthe possibility that the readermust engagewith the text.

'You'as the Readership: Salirising Society What is found in this example and others is an interrogation of the role of the implied reader of his texts. In 'Shopgirls', the 'you' of the narrative begins by referring to the single implied reader. But as the narrative progresses it becomes apparent that the second person pronoun is not referring to a single reader, but a readership. By the end of the story, 'you' rneans the general implied reader of his text, and by extension, becomes representative of contemporary society. Barthelme uses this phenomenon to draw not a single reader into his narrative but to comment satirically upon society as a whole. The intradiegetic addresseethus eventually becomes a homogenised implied 289 reader,stripped of their uniquepersonas, through a determinedquerying of the illusion of individuality. 'You' is not a unique individual but part of a homogenised grouping of readerswho want more or lessthe samethings, at the samemoment in history, in the samemanner. Moreover, the placesthe characters(and by extension, the implied readers)inhabit are equally homogenised.Barthelme's evocation of contemporary,urban America is one of its strongestqualities. The shoppingmalls, diners,wide boulevardsand supermarkets,all contributeto notion that Barthelme's

American landscapeis merely a seriesof ubiquitousurban sprawls:

His landscapeis not changingat all. The organizingconceit of

his narrativeis that no other world exists.His suburbsare not

juxtaposedagainst the city [..] the conceit is in effect that the entire 31 country looks like this.

Even Carver's locations juxtapose the rural and the urban. Yet in Barthelme, no such differentiation exists. The ubiquitous commercial buildings are the places Barthelme's characters live in: by implication, his readers occupy the same uniform locations. One satirical point is implied in the progression from 'you' as single, intradiegetic addresseeto generalised implied reader. The 'you' necessarily refers to a homogenised society, one that has had its individuality stripped, so that the 'you' of the narrative can equally represent both the actual protagonist in the narrative and

Barthelme's entire readership. Madison Smartt Bell makes this point in his criticism of Barthelme's second-personnarrator:

31T. Peters"Eighties Pastoral:Frederick Barthelme's Moon DeluxeTen Years On." Studiesin Short Fiction 31.2 (Spring 1994),p. 179. 290

We actually do live in a world where the identical apartmentand

departmentstore can be found from Seattleto Miami. In the face

of such fearsomehomogeneity, our individuality is hard to preserve. Barthelme's frankly [ ] is narratorspeaks ... telling the readerthere no importantdifference between 'me' and 'you'. 32

Bell seesthis more as typical of the minimalist impulseto reducethe charactersto

4simulacraof one another', and that includesthe readerand writer, an echo of

Carver's reader/voyeurrelationship. As such,he representsseveral critical opinions that concludethat the charactersthat peopleMoon Deluxe, and especiallythe protagonist,are merely severalincarnations of the sameperson. The placesof

Barthelme's fiction are not merely non-specificand bland, but can be seenas an emblem,and a cause,of the homogenisationof his characters.

In most casesthis critique is directedat the readerand his or her contribution to a decadentconsumer culture. In 'Pool Lights%Barthelme isolates the themesof his contemporaries*fascination with commodities:

At midnight Friday you go into the small living-dining room and

click on the overheadlight. There, in neat low stacksalong three

walls, is the summerproject: piles of Time,Rolling Stone,Sports

Illustrated, Money,Road& Track, StereoReview, American

Photographer,Skin Diver, and Vogue.All from American Educational

Servicesat terrific discount.When they startedpiling up unread,

32M S. Bell 'Less is Less:The Dwindling of the American Short Story' Ha)-per'sApril 1986,p. 68. 291

became [ ] Reading first they a collection. ... every word seemedat a possibility, but finally the idea was exhausting.(119)

Compare the use of the second-person narrator to that found in Jay McInerney's novel

Bright Lights, Big City:

You are the stuff of which consumerprofiles - American Dream:

EducatedMiddle-Class Model - are made. Whenyou'restaying at

the Plaza ivilhyour beautiful ivife, doesn't it makesense to order

the bestScotch that moneycan buy beforeyou go to the theatre in 33 yourprivate limousine?

Barthelme, like McInerney, uses the second-person addressee'you' as a way of

suggesting that the reader engages in the same practices as the characters within the

narrative. Rather than sustaining the illusion of the implied reader as intradiegetic

addressee,the 'you' refers to an implied reader, but one whose behaviour can be readily associated with the central protagonist rather than implicating him or her within the narrative directly. In this sense,the use of the second-person narrator holds a mirror to its readers and implicitly criticises them by criticising the behaviour of the characters who represent them.

In 'Pool Lights', Barthelmesatirises the impulseto collect. Content- knowledgeand information - no longer becomesas importantas having a completecollection. The

4you' of the story, now transformedinto the implied reader,consumes and collects

33J. McInerney Bright Lights, Big City (London: Penguin, 1993),p. 151. 292 ratherthan absorbsand reflects.Note, also, how they are magazines,not booksand moreover,they are unread.Barthelme seems to be suggestingthat the behaviourof the charactersatirises the kind of readerwho hasneither the time nor the attentionspan to acquireknowledge from more conventionalsources, or focus upon more serious subjectsthan thosethat can be found in Vogueor StereoReview. Barthelme generalisesfrom the behaviourof a single characterto satirisehis readershipby suggestingthat the 'you' is representativeof more generaltrends in Modern America.

This is a significant departurefor minimalism becauseit hasbegun not merely to satirisesociety through a single readerbut through the homogenisedimplied reader.

Much of Hemingway's early fiction had a satirical agendaand, as I have madeclear, this was mademore potentby his intention to declareit without hyperbole,so that the readermight, for example,understand more clearly the horrorsof war. Carver,too, seemedto demonstrateexistential despair by examiningthe effect of economicand social problems on several characters and by drawing the reader closer through strategies such as the implied reader as voyeur, so that they might more readily empathisewith the victims of social pressures.

By writing about shopping,eating, buying, going to social gatherings,etc

Barthelme, in a more concertedway than either Hemingway (with his focus upon extreme situations such as war), or Carver (with his interestin social disillusion, sometimesextreme), appeals to a wider readershipthrough a ready identifitation in with the everyday.The readermight more readily recognisethemselves

Barthelme's fiction, a premiseon which his satirical ambition to criticise the 'you' 293

in the fiction rests.For a literature that wishesto encouragesuch readersto identify

with the narrative so that they might more fully engagewith it, this is an extremely

important element for its effects on the ways in which his implied readerresponds.

The more readily the implied readercan associatewith the diegetic function of the

narrative (the world-view createdby it), the more quickly they can become

assimilatedinto the narrative as protagonistsin the second-personstory. By

attemptingto ensurethe readerreadily identifies with the 'you' of the narrative, the

readeris more likely to be able to participate in its creation, rather than reject it as

unfeasible.

Tou'as the Narrator For FrancesTaliaferro, the secondperson means a way of the narratoraddressing him

or himself in Moon Deluxe. After suggestingthat 'reading them [the stories in Moon

Deluxe] is like watching the television with the soundofr34 (an accountwhich I take

to meanthat it providesan undiscussedseries of imagesC, that only begin to make

sense), she turns to the narrator's role:

Sometimesthe narratorrefers to himself in the secondperson.

The effect is one of passivityand disjunction; the narrator

becomeshis own object, noting the separateimage as if he were 35 watching himself on the tube.

34T. Taliaferro'AfoonDehae Review' llarper's267(1600) 1983, p. 51

35Tal iaferro, P. 5 1. 294

In Taliaferro,the usc of the second-pcrsonnarrator is an cxampleof a first-pcrson

narratoraddressing themselves: when 'you' is used,it is self-referentialand the story

is an interior monologue. This has interesting implications for my analysis of Aloon

Deluxe as a literature that refuses to explain its motives becausein its use Barthelme

hasspurned the opportunity to explorethe workings of a single mind and directly

showthose things - motives,beliefs, emotions-explain why charactersact like they do. Monika Fludernik definesthis phenomenonby what shecalls the 'reflector-mode' narratives:

[] reflector modenarratives can be determinedbest at the very

beginning of texts where they immediately establish a deictic

[ ] the the deictic center ... on part of protagonist and relate all

expressionsto that deictic center.One thereforeusually encounters

familiarizing articles, referential items relating to the subjectivity

of the focalizer, and expressions of subjectivity at the very

beginningof reflector-modetexts. 36

In this approach,the 'you' is the narratorand the narrative is an expressionof their 37 consciousness. It is a 'reflectW narrative in that it is an expressionof the thoughts and considerations,or reflections,of a single consciousness.Consider this example from 'Moon Deluxe':

36 Fludernik, p. 3. 37The Idietic center' of Taliaferro is consideredto be the sourceof the world view, the sustaining it is derived from individual's principle on which it rests.Here, an consciousness. 295

You're stuck in traff ic on your way from work, counting blue

cars,and when a blue metallic Jettapulls alongside,you count it

- twenty eight. You've seenthe driver other evenings;she looks

strikingly like a young man - big, with dark, almostred hair clipped her head.[ ] You look back. (61) tight around ... away, then

The narratorrefers to himself as 'you' in the reflector modemodel. This approximates

a kind of first-personnarration directed at the self, but which the implied readercan

'listen in to'. Like Carver's 'eavesdropping',we are presentedwith an intimate

accountof a character'slife, and the readerencounters it almost as if he or she is a

voyeur. This relationshipapproximates Carver's suggestionof the readeras voyeur,

and it is no coincidencethat the second-personnarrator stories in the collection focus

upon the act of voyeurism:

First you see the woman's beautiful hair, steel gray and cut to brush

her blouse. [ ] You behind her the shoulders of vanilla silk ... pass

and stop thirty feet away, facing the low-fat milk, for a second look.

[ ] You to the front the is, keep ... go of store, see where she your distance. (201)

The intradiegeticaddressee is cast in the role of the voyeur. However, Bartheli-ne's procedurediffers from Carver's. In 'Safeway', no suchpersonal epiphanies occur but rather, the charactercomes to seeboth himself and othersin terms of a reflection: 296

The glassin the storewindows is coveredwith transparenttinted

Mylar - blue; waiting for the womanto return,you look at your

reflection. You tug on your collar to straightenyour tie, then

look at the reflectionsof the two men. (203)

The voyeur waits for the woman to return and as he doesso, beginsa processof observationthat encompasseshim and the men he seesat the mail. What this suggests is that the 'you' beginsto understandpeople, at leastinitially, in terms of their reflection,through their appearanceand behaviour.Like Carver's couple in 'The

Idea', the reader-protagon i st of 'Shopgirls' and 'Safeway' is also watching whilst being watched.Instead of truly reflecting upon themselves,the charactersmore completelylook elsewhere,towards a meditationupon surfacereality. This outside world - the world of appearances,and the objectswhich are componentsof it - is the subjectof the next section. 297

Part Three: Suggestive Language and the Poetry of Consumer Objects Minimalism, like much modem short fiction, makesuse of the everydayobject as meansof expressingthe inner lives of its characters.For Hemingwayand Carver,this meantimbuing thoseobjects with a figurative significance.

Barthelme'severyday objects are also highly significant.The brandedcommodity in

Moon Deluxe is drainedof figurative significanceand more often than not represents statuswithin a consumerculture, ratherthan as an effective meansof expressinga character'sinner workings. This refutesChekhov's (and Hemingway's and Carver's) approachwhich usesthe configurationof objectsto suggestan emotional state.It is in keepingwith Barthelme'senterprise to underminethe traditional function of literature as an explicative medium; objectsmeans little morethan their role with the continuumof consurnertransactions, and reflectsa characterýssocial statusmore than an interior environment.Indeed, as I will demonstrate,Barthelme replaces the languageof modernfiction (and especiallyits metaphoricalfunction) with the languageof advertising,marketing and commodityculture.

The object, in Barthelmecan be consideredin the light of post-modemtheory and especiallythat of JeanBaudrillard. John Lechteoutlines Baudrillard's theory of the Barthelme's product in contemporarysociety, a theory which seemsclosely alignedto useof the everydayof object:

interestin Baudrillard [ ] With his serniotic the object, ... endeavours

to show that no object exists in isolation from others.Instead, their 298

differential, or relational,aspect becomes crucial in understanding

them. In addition, while there is a utilitarian aspectto many objects,

is in is [ ] To be what essential them their capacityto signify status. ... emphasisedhere is that objectsare not simply consumedin a consumer

society; they are producedless to satisfy a needthan to signify a status,

and this is only possiblebecause of the differential relationshipbetween

objects."

Strippedof its figurative power,drained of its utility, the object as commodity in

Barthelmesits amongothers in the continuumof commoditystatus. By using objects to 'signify a status', Barthelmeis suggestingthat short story discourse(and indeed that of modernfiction) hasshifted from an interestin the dynamic betweengood and evil (in the traditional short tale); through to a communicatorof an authentic'truth'

(in Hemingway); and as a meansto suggestthe potentialof change(in Carver).

Barthelmesatirises the discoursethat hasreplaced all thesein his contemporary society: the trivial and disposablelanguage of marketing.

Bartheline's EverydayObject: the Brand A brand nameis a value statementand is never innocentof value, nor can it escape saying somethingabout the statusof the productto which it refers.A brandappears within a continuumwhose function is to draw attentionto it status.When a brand name is found in the text, the readerbegins to place it, howeverloosely, amongstthat continuum of products.Barthelme frequently assertsthe power of the brandname. In

38 J. Lechte Fifty Key Contemporary Thinkers: From Stnicturalism to Postmodernity (London: Routledge, 1998), p. 234. 299

'Grapette',the central charactersuse the lament for a productwhich has become

obsoleteas a simple analogyto a senseof lossthey feel, both at their own

relationships dernise, and of growing older in general:

"No Grapette," I say, scanning the ceiling.

"What is it?"

"The end of the world as we haveknown it. "

640h.99

"Little purple bottle, six ounces." I wave my handand twist my headto

one side so I can seeher on the couch."Grapette kind of went away, I

guess.I hatethat. " (148)

Products and their names function differently in different stories. The use of the brand

name, or branding, takes two distinct forms. In the first instance, the product retains

its generic name whilst the brand name is added. In 'Box Step' there is an 'Izod shirt',

Towenbrau beer' and 'Pier I glasses'. In the second instance, the brand name replaces the generic name completely. When Henry in 'Box Step' refers to his electric typewriter, he calls it the 'Selectric 11' and the blinds in his office are only referred to as 'Levelors9.

Both have implications for the ways in which the implied readerinterprets the text. In the first instance,the brandname augments the descriptionof an object. Given that the brand is evaluativeit is not merely colouring the implied reader'sperception of an object but reinforcesideas about its value as a product and in turn, the consumerwho 300

uses it. In 'Box Step', Felicia teasesAmos: ' "He's wearing this Izod shirt, did you

notice? He's very style-aware." ' (12). The brand name is the point around which the

meaning of the sentence pivots. It is used ironically and the implied reader assumes it would appear somewhere at the lower end of the branding continuum that there is something risible about Izod shirts. 'Izod' carries the weight that an adjective might.

The brand might well be replaced directly with an adjective, so 'Izod' would become 39 'fashionable' or' 'expensive".

The result of this is that Barthelmesometimes rejects the useof adjectivesin favour of a referenceto the objectshe finds in the real world. This is an importantpart of

Barthelme'sstrategy, and is essentialfor understandinghow the useof branding creates interpretative equivocation. Indeed, this gets to the paradox at the heart of

Barthelme's minimalism: rather than providing less information, it provides more. But it does so in order to demonstrate that the everyday object has been replaced with a commodity. As such, the object itself has no value except that which is its market value. The process remains one of ornission (the object disappears) and is replaced with a brand name. Barthelme thus creates a new vocabulary of experience by assigningobjects brand names in the absenceof their actual function as objects.

The creationof a new vocabularycan be found more completelyin the second instance,where the brandname replaces the genericeveryday object. With this device, Barthelmeexplores the phenomenonwhere a product becomessynonymous with its brand name.In the United Kingdom this has its equivalentin brandssuch as

39In the openingto this chapter,I drew attentionto Naomi Klein's brief history of designerlabelling. Izod Lacostewas one of thoseoriginal labelsthat were worn as sportswearin the 1950s. 301

'Hoover', a proprietary term which has replaced 'vacuum cleaner' in modern usage.

The transformation from object to product is so complete that there they become -

indistinguishable. This reduces the presenceof everyday objects to their place within

the commodity market by defining the object in ten-nsof its product name. One of the

reasons for its use is that it is a mode of discourse that reflects his society's interest in

the consumer object and its place within the language of marketing, and how this

influences the behaviour and values of his characters.

CharlesE. May claims that the modemshort story, despitedepending on what he calls

6metonymic sequenceand verisimilitude', still can create a metaphoric sense of

reality:

The metonymic style of realism in the modem short story compels

the reader to transform sequenceinto equivalence and to

spatialize the temporal in order to make metaphorically

meaningful that which at first seemsmerely cont igUOUS.40

The processof 'sequenceinto equivalence'suggests that the contiguous- in this

example,the everydayobject and more specifically, the toy dinosaurin 'Box Step' -

are not merely representationsof an externalreality but are metaphorsthat are created

he 'repetition into 41 by a processof what calls and parallelism meaningfulpatterns .

The externalworld in RobinsonCrusoe (to useMay's example)exists as an 'external resistanceto be overcome':and the swampin 'A Big Two HeartedRiver' is an

40May, C. E. TheShort Story.- TheReality ofArlifice (New York: Routledge,2002), p. 7. 41May (2002), p. 7. For a similar approach,see Cynthia. W. Hallett's specialuse of metonymyand metaphorin C. Hallett Afininialism andthe Shoil Slory (New York: Edwin Mellen Press,1999), pg. 6 and the processof 'metonymic matter [is] transformedinto metaphoricalsignifiers' on p. 11, ibid. 302

'objectification of Nick's psychicdistress'. 42 The processof transformingthe

metonymicdetail into metaphoricsignificance is a productof the selectionand

repetitionof certain details.

Barthelme'suse of the object is a particularexample which reflectsa more general

trend within societyto replacetheir languagewith the discourseof consumerism.The

Pier I glasses,imported Lowenbrau beer, and Izod shirtsall representnothing more

than the display of consumerpower. Sayingsomething is 'Izod' hasan adjectival

quality, meaningit is not valued. Similarly, importing 'Lowenbrau' beer is a short-cut

for suggestingthe 'user' (or 'consumer', ratherthan person)is cosmopolitan,well-

informed and fashionable.In Barthelme'swork, the languageof the modernshort

story has,therefore, been replaced with the languageof advertising,marketing, of

commercialism.

The Figurative Function of Branding I have argued that minimalism throughout the arts is based upon absenceand restraint

for its effects. Yet Moon Deluxe contains many episodes or details that appear, at least

on a cursory reading, as entirely superfluous. What does it mean to include the names

of typewriters, the brand of shirts or drinking glasses?Critics have ascribed a

'hallucinatory' quality to Barthelme's short fiction. One explanation for this is the effect created from an obsessive focus upon the everyday. In one sense,a stringent focus upon such objects begins to remove the illusion of what functions these objects have in external reality. This fiction asks that the product is considered more closely,

42May (2002), p. 7. 303 andwhen this is done,it revealsitself as what it actually is: is bizarre,strange and extraordinary.It attemptsto suggestthe processby which we find the familiar strange, thosemoments when the absurdityof our lives suggestthemselves. There are times whenone considershow amazingand unusualit is to be hurtled aroundin a small tube at high speed,or, to fly; or, more prosaically,how odd it might seemthat we sit togetherin a room to watch a small, flickering box, or watch television.Barthelme's

Moon Deluxe makesthe everydayuncanny, so that his objectsbecome strange, even sinister.

The transformation from the everyday is apparentwhen one considersa sustained look into the mirror. When the viewer looks in the mirror, he or she recognises something seenmost days of his or her life. It is perfectly commonplaceand imperceptible, although he or she may occasionally note changes,they are and the Yet, viewer is left in little doubt they are extremely familiar with what they see. intensefocus when the viewer takes a longer look, and retains his or her upon the face, somethingchanges. The familiar begins, equally imperceptibly, to become unfamiliar. If the viewer looks hard and long enoughat even the most ordinary things they seemto becomeunusual, strange,even sinister and bizarre. This is is for Moon Deluxe. For predicated upon a belief of Barthelme's which the subtext

Barthelme, culture does not merely contain such brandedobjects, culture is brandedobjects. In his introduction from his Laiv ofAverages, he makesthe clairn explicit: 304

[ ] The idea in ... cameto me the form of a barbecuedchicken of the

type you buy precookedat the grocerystore. I bought one, one

summerday. And it amazedme. I was thrilled by how wonderful and

grotesquethis prefab,plastic-wrapped, alum inum-panned, shrinking,

failing-apart,sweet-smelling chicken was. Somehowit ivas the culture.43

Sucheveryday objects do not exist to illustrate a depth greaterthan their surface attributes:they haveno metaphoricalsignificance. The qualitiesof their existence, thoseelements that can be seen,touched, heard, tasted and smelledare enoughto occupy a central placewithin Barthelme'sworld. Carver's fiction held no such ambivalence.His romanticismsaw suchbanality as a thing to be held off,.not embracedas representative;the everydaywas cruel and grim and escapefrom it problems- alcoholism,divorce, estrangement- should be the goal. Barthelme's charactershave little or no suggestionof an inner life becausethey are economically constructed.The focus from characterin Carverto economicculture in Barthelmeis a significant developmentin the minimalist aestheticof thesewriters.

But what happensif you do not understandthe languageof late 20thcentury capitalism,the lexicon of the brandedobject? When the brand namebecomes synonymouswith the object there is a dangerthat the useof brandingmay impede understandingif the readeris unableto identify the brandname used. In the title story, this idea is explicitly raisedas the two womenoffer the narratora cognac,the history of which is described:

" Barthelme(2000), p. xv. 305

"Tony's grandfather, who was a war correspondent or something,

sent us this bottle of cognac - very fancy, very special. Both of us

hate the stuff, so we've lugged the damn bottle with us everywhere,

waiting for the chance to use it on some bobo. The trouble is, the

stuff is too fancy, nobody every heard of it.

"It's very nice, " you say.

"Might as well be Ripple, " Antonia says mournfully. (69-70)

When the brand namecontext is lost, the brand becomesuseless. In this case,there exists confusionabout what is important.Antonia says:"'Might as well be Ripple"', alluding to a non-speciality,commonplace liqueur. Its statusis a direct productof the brand name- and if that nameis lost, then the statusis lost, regardlessof its utility.

The television news stationsCNN and ABC found at the beginningof 'Violet' (36) were for a long time only available in the United Statesas was the K-Mart, or'Ripple' liquor. Although the readerunfamiliar with the brandmight useinternal evidenceto interpret the value of the brand,it doesnot offer a precisemethod of understanding the text. For example,an Izod shirt hadbeen used above to representa risible quality. in fact, for a large part of the 1980s,it was expensiveand highly desirable.The interpretationcannot be basedupon internal evidencealone.

The useof brandnames relies heavily on the reader'sknowledge of that specific brand name,which is culturally unique. It follows that Barthelmehad a very particular readerin mind when he createsthe stories,one that would understandsuch a specific cultural reference.In the first instance,some of the referenceswould make little sense to anyoneoutside of the United States.Those objects that can be found elsewheremay 306 well havebecome additionally unfamiliar through time. For example,when Henry refersto his 'Selectric 11'in the openingparagraph, the readermight fail to recognise it as one of IBM's early electric typewriters,as it hasbecome technologically obsolete.Whilst it is true that the global spreadof homogenisedcultural products from America, including suchmajor brandsas McDonalds,or Coca-Cola,might be familiar to readersall over the world, Barthelmechooses instead brands that will both datequickly or thosethat are only familiar to a smaller communityof implied readers, namelythe readershe wishesto satirise.

This point illustratesa particulardanger with the useof brandnames, and more generally the drive to becomemore and more focussed upon the particularitiesof everyday contemporarylife, in minimalistfiction. Minimalism hasoften been accused of being parochialin its outlook,ignorant of the wider world of politics andsocial issues, as I have exploredin Aldridge's discussionof minimalism'spoverty. By usingbrand names,

Barthelmeruns the risk of furthernarrowing the focusuntil only a very few may graspthe full import of his work. In this case,his ideal implied readerseems to be a well-informed urban,American of the 1980s.Perhaps the greatestdanger lies in that a readerunfamiliar with the culturalreferences is lessinclined to participatemore completely when they are encouragedto re-createmeaning in the text, or evenbother to readhim at all. Oneof the reasonswhy Carverdeliberately reacted against the unusual,even 'exotic', locationsand eventsof Hemingway'sshort fiction wasto makehis fiction moreaccessible to a wider readership.But for somereaders of Moon Deluxe,the inclusionof K-Mart andRipple, of

Selectric11 and Levelors,of CNN andABC is asexotic as Hemingway'smurders, the shellshockand the massexodus. The differencebetween the identityof the readermight be expressedas the differencebetween Barthelme's 'ideal' impliedreader, who 307 understandsthe culturalreferences, and brand names and the actualreader, as one who might be separatedfrom the storyeither by time andplace, and as a resultdoes not fully comprehendthe commercialallusions found throughout. Barthelme's continued focus uponthe accuratedepiction of his contemporaryworld createsan implied readerwho must be equallyfocussed to pick up on thosereferences.

TheDiscourse of Marketing and the Influence of the Brand The pervasiveand sinister power of the brandedobject to influenceits owner is explored throughoutMoon Delare. In 'Box Step',the toy seemsto influenceHenry's behaviour:

At homewith Ann and Gillian I turn it upsidedown, spilling wonton

soupand rice out of its hollow inside onto my place mat. I ask the

dinosaurif it wants a Gelusil, then wipe the toothy mouth with a

napkin. The women laugh.

"He's ajerk, " Gillian says.

"He had too much to eat," Ann says.She starts to clean up

the messI've made,but I elbow her away and clean it myself,

wiping at the soupwith a napkin, sweepingthe rice into my palm

from the edgeof the polyurethanedwhite-pine tabletop.

"Henry I mean," my sister says.(12)

Henry appearsto be regressinginto a childlike stateof play, using the dinosauras a child might use a doll. fie is beginning to assumethe role that playing with a toy might invoke: his object is defining his social role, or, beginning to own him. This reflects an opinion of a more generaltrend in American society, and accordingto

Deborah Gimelson, and it pervadesthe rest of the book: 308

Among America's least flattering nationalcharacteristics, for

example,is the tendencyof many of us to live in a stateof,

adolescentself-preoccupation far beyondthe agewhen that is

appropriateor excusable.44

The toy actsas a link betweenHenry as an adult and as a child, enablinghim to relive

the pastand simultaneouslyavoid the presentand future. Henry is one of several

charactersin Moon Deluxethat exhibit nostalgictendencies and a concomitant

rejectionof the present.In 'At Heart', as the narratorwatches Clare perform a

6shallowcurtsy' andjump to the beach,she tells him: "'Yes, sir," shesays. She squats

and duck-walksacross the sand."'I'm just a girl at heart. I don't want to hear

anythingabout adults"' (160). Certainly, there is a suggestionthroughout Moon

Deluxethat the fear of ageingand the responsibilitythat it entails is reasonenough to

45 seeksolace in the pastand avoid the present. In 'At Heart', the first -person narratorseems preoccupied with growing old:

I must look glum. Sylvia slinks up beside me and says, "Why so

forlorn? "

"It's worse when you're forty, " I say. "Ifs really ridiculous. " (151)

At other times, the reason for such regression appears uncertain. When Ann complains of feeling nervous, Henry replies: "'Me too, all the time. I don't know why. "' (11). This kind of free-floating anxiety may well prompt Henry into the safety

44D. Gimelson'Tales of SingleExistence' The New Leader LXVI (22) 1983,p. 15. " in 'Grapette', Carmel confirms the suspicionsof severalmen in Aloon Deluxe: "'Men are dorks at forty. They don't know what's good for them."' (137). 309 that the toy provides.Frank in 'Lumber' tries to staveoff his lonelinessby buying things from the lumber shop(163-164). But Henry goesfurther than usethe toy as a sourceof comfort. In his presentationof a new toy dinosaurto Ann during a meal, it developsan altogethermore complex figurative power:

"I forgot something," I say, sliding my chair away from the

table. I go out to the car and retrievethe T. G. & Y. bag from the

floor in the front seat;there's a little chain of perspirationon my

foreheadwhen I get back to the table and makethe presentation.

The appetizersarrive. Ann loosensthe stapleat the top of the bag

with her fingernails,hands me the receipt,opens the bag and peers

inside.

"I deservethis, " shesays. (20)

Henry seems to suggesting that toy is not merely a crutch with which he can support his frightened ego, but a too] for creating a relationship, in which that toy might be equally useful for both partners. The reader might be tempted to think that this is merely a shortcoming on behalf of Henry. But Ann colludes with the charade,

if playfully personifying the toy and claiming it is a fit reward, even that claim is tinged with sarcasm. Only Felicia has the senseto recognise this behaviour as some kind of regression:

Ann shakeshands with the dinosaurthe way one shakeshands

with a dog; then shefeeds it one of her tiny white shrimp. She

says,"Welcome to America, Rueben."

"Welcome to the RomperRoom, " Felicia says.(20-21) 310

What is found in the useof a toy is a similar methodto Carver, in that the object does not havea static symbolic nature,like the swampin 'A Big Two HeartedRiver, but one that is liable to change.It is unusualin that, unlike the brandedobject, it possessesa symbolic value outsidethe languageof discourse.Like Carver's objects,

Barthelme'sare always products.As such,his useof suchobjects and its effect upon the readeris alignedto Carver's method.Yet Barthelmeis keento demonstratetheir value as commodities:in 'Box Step', Henry tells us a greatdeal aboutwho madehis toy dinosaurand where he got it from. Despiteits obvious dissimilarities, Barthelme had in Moon Deluxe ambitionsthat Hemingwayand Carver had: to define what it is like to live in our time. 311

Part Four: Omission, Characterisation and Endings As I have in noted the previous chapters on Hemingway and Carver, the ending of the

story provides the opportunity to answer the questions raised by the narrative and to

the for interpretative 46Like Hemingway provide potential closure . and Carver, function Barthelme exploits this pivotal of the story ending by refusing to provide

However, normative narrative closure. unlike his predecessors,Barthelme rejects even

the potential for the story to provide closure. Instead, in the same way that

Hemingway and Carver rejected the notion of 'resolution', he in turn replaces the

'revelation' immanent in concept of their story endings with suspension: the story,

like the lives it describes, resolves or reveals little or nothing. What is left in

is Barthelme's endings a reminder that I ife experience cannot encapsulated into a

discrete moment of resolution which offer even the potential for meaning in an

otherwise banal, incomprehensible universe. As such, it is one of the most tangible

realisations of his ambition to reject the conventions of traditional literature and

replace them with a gesture towards a literature that above all aspires to verisimilitude

of contemporary life. This method has attracted much criticism. Peter La Salle*s

review is a typical example:

There is an old joke aboutthe New Yorker story: You write a

normal story, thenjust chop off the last coupleof paragraphs,to

leave the readerin that fashionablelimbo. 47

46in keeping with my definition of the short story and its components,I usethe term 'ending' to imply a neutral descriptionof the placewhere the text ends.In doing so, I avoid the associationsof narrative closure which terms such as 'conclusion', 'denouement'or'finale' implies. 47P. La Salle 'Review of Aloon Deluxe' Studiesin Short Fiction, Spring 1984,Vol. 21 Issue2, p. 157 312

indeed This may be the initial impressionleft with a cursory reading,especially in

stories like 'Monster Deal' which ends:

My steak is still cooking. I pour a fresh cup of coffee and start to read

the newspaper,but then I don't want to read,I just want to look at the headlines.(200)

This type of deflated ending seemsto wilfully reject the conventionalmethod to

provide somekind of significant commentaryor narrativeclosure. But here,as can be

found elsewherethroughout the collection, the story ends,like T. S. Eliot's 'Hollow

Men* With a whimper, not a bang.The impact of the conflict upon the narratorof

4MonsterDeal' leadsnot the kind of 'impossiblechanges' found in Carver's title story 'Will You PleaseBe Quiet, PleaseTbut insteadleaves him slightly aggrieved, to the extent that concentratingupon the newspaperis temporarily difficult. But this indifference is Barthelme'spoint. He strips the endingof his storiesof their significance in order to show that the lives of his characterscannot have significance imposed upon them when their overall attitude is one of emotionalcoldness, indifference and detachment.Barthelme's endings are a coherentelement in his overall enterpriseto demonstratethat contemporarylife in Moon Delare is relatively insignificant, comprisedof a seriesof missedopportunities, thwarted desires and unease.His is a world of greys; it is ambiguous,indistinct. In this section,an analysis of story endings is accompaniedby an analysisof his sketchycharacters.

There are severalways in which Barthelmesubverts the conventionfor using the story ending to resolve issuesin the characters'lives. All of them are dependentupon 313 omission. One of the most persistentmanifestations of the omission is Barthelme's thoroughgoing immersion in everydayexperience, expressed as an omissionof the normative areasof interestof conventionalliterature. Barthelme expresses as such:

My idea [ ] to in ... was write about ordinary people plain

circumstances - going to the store, dinner with the neighbors,

people at the pool, time at the office, camping in the backyard,

sitting in the parking lot at the mall. the world as reflected 48 in details of our routine lives.

I noted at the start of the chapter how Barthelme sought to represent a reality which was quite unlike the 'artifice* of reality that he saw as endemicin much contemporary writing. Amongst his strategyfor re-representingreality was to focus upon the everyday lives of everydaypeople. Amongst those 'extraordinarycircumstances' that people experiencein so-called'realist' texts were: 'drug addictions,terrible accidents, diseases,wars, deaths,rapes, violence of every kind, rnagictimes, epiphanies,et

49 have becausethey appearfrequently in Carver's cetera' .I emphasisedepiphanies fiction. In Carver's fiction, works but are not found in any of Barthelme'sshort the epiphany often thwarts the potentialto reveal somethingabout the characterwho into image experiencesit. This is often figuratively translated the of a character looking into the mirror. Barthelmerejects even the potential for self-realisation.This is how the narratorof the title story, 'Moon Deluxe' observeshimself:

48Barthelme (2000), p. xvi. 49 Barthelme (2000), pp. xv-xvi, my emphasis. 314

You look at your teeth in the bathroommirror. They needbrushing.

You strip, start the water for a bath, and carry your clothesinto the

bedroom.You standin front of the full-length mirror for a few

seconds,looking at your skin. (63)

Typically for Barthelme,the emphasisremains upon the surface.The characterlooks

not in the eyes,or at the entire person(despite their being nakedin a full-length

mirror) but the surfaceaspect, the skin. The examinationis fleeting, lasting only

6seconds'.When the narratordoes come to any conclusionsfollowing the examination

of his teeth, he revealsthe banal: 'they needbrushing'. There is no epiphanyhere, just

a getting ready before a 'date*. Barthelme'slanguage of experiencedemands that the becomefluent in reader look to behaviourand the signsand signalsthat they find finding represented.The reader,rather than a quasi-mysticalsignificance in an decide is by epiphany is left to what meant the actionsand words of the characters

%vhorefuse to explain their motives.

Subverting the Epiphanic Ending -rhere are examplesin Moon Deluxe that appearto end in the similar mannerto

Carver's short storiesby providing the potential for ascribingsignificance to the

least However, narrative, or at providing somesort of narrativeresolution. upon closer inspection, they merely reinforce the idea that suchpotential merely representsthe false imposition of a hopeful interpretationupon an otherwiseinsignificant moment.

In final scenebetween the narratorand his 'date' Lucille in 'Rain Check', they sharea happen fL,rtive exchangeabout what might next: 315

"Do you want somebreakfast? " The invitation soundstired but sincere,so 1.say, 'Not now. Maybe I'll take a rain check." "A what?" "Another time." I I ... Lucille sayshaltingly, "So. What about a shower?" I give her a long look, letting the silencemount up. (240)

The idea of the 'rain check' (also the title of the story) is significant in that such a him pivotal moment(Lucille asking into her apartment,possibly as a preludeto sex)

ends with a rejection using termsthat shedoes not understand.This epitomisesthe

poor communicationthat exists betweenthem, quite possiblya result of their age

difference. As she pressesthe issueby increasingthe tenns of intimacy by asking him

if he wants a shower,there beginsa long passageduring which the potential for

narrative conclusionis suggested:

Maybe we've been there longer than two minutes, but when the

smile comes, I see her lips a little bit apart and her slightly hooded

eyes, and she traces her fingers down my arm from the elbow to the

wrist and stops there, loosely hooking her fingertips inside my shirt

cuff, pinching my skin with her nails. (240)

in a simple sense,the implied readermight interpretthe story end as a choice between Lucille have It Carver"s in it .,vhether the narratorand will sex. resembles method that for direction creates the potential changewithout explicitly confirming the that change Moreover'when her will take. smile comes' representsa pseudo-epiphanicmoment: Yet it is it appears to the narratoras a momentof clarity. not the significanceof the 316

situation which becomesimmediately clearer as a result of this 'seeinganew': it is

merely that he can seeher lips and her eyes.Her provocativegesture of running her

fingers down his arm echoesthat of the handsmoving over the body of the narratorin

, Will You PleaseBe Quiet, PleaseT.Yet this exampleis missingboth the expressive

languageand profundity which that imageprovides. Rather than feel 'impossible

changes',he feels, instead,a pinch of his skin. This is not a profoundchange but a

bittersweetmoment during which their fate will be decided.She appears to one of

many 'dates' that may haveended this way, it seems,implied by his recollection that

he has be taking women 'to their doorsbetter than twenty years' (240). There is no

special significanceto this moment,just one banaldate amongst a continuum of

others.

Elsewhere,Barthelme deliberately creates and then thwarts the potential for

SarahGarner conclusive endings.In 'Safeway', the second-personnarrator watches

during a trip to the supermarket.They finally meetand go for somethingto eat. Both it lead, leaves intentions. uncertain of where might each small cluesas to their

initially, Sarahrejects his offer of paying for the meal:

I thought that this was my treat," you say.

"Wrong." Shestarts to put on her coat, and in the bendingand pulling

you notice that shehas opened the neck of her blouse.(216)

has implicitly in Her rejection of his offer to pay, an offer which she acceptedearlier her to this the the narrative, combinedwith abrupt,single word response offer signals 317

beginning of her uneasiness.Shortly following this, sheappears hesitant when the

narratorasks if shewants to follow him in his car:

"You go ahead," shesays. "Forest Royale,right? I forgot something

at the store.I forgot I'm completelyout of facial tissues.Just give me

the apartmentnumber. " Shelooks at the truck in the comer of the parking

lot. (216-217)

Her desireto return to the store for somethingso trivial seemslike the actionsof

do is someoneuncertain about what to next, making excuses.It a dramaof modern It belongs sexual manners.Her glanceat the truck revealswhy. to the two men she

has met in the supermarket,men which sheappears to be attractedto, or at least

intrigued by. The narrator,until this point, appearskeen on the rendezvous.Yet, like

Sarah, his actionsare at oddswith his thoughtsand he lies to her. Ile gives her a false

his is from license In number of apartment,one which arbitrarily reads a vehicle plate. in drama insincerity: the final paragraph,their uncertaintycoincides a of awkward

At the door to the Safewayshe turns, seesthat you are still watching,

and waves.You wave, too, in a quick, jerky movement,then stepout

into the parking lot, whistling, looking over the tops of the sparklingcars

for your black Mazda.(217)

is it What is significant aboutthis ending that appearson the surfaceto suggestthe

but the subtextis that they will not. Barthelmesimultaneously couple will meet the possibility of conclusionwith a significant momentbut on the Suggests surface 318

other hand rejects it throughthe careful inclusion of a subversivesubtext. Once again,

there is no significanceto this moment- only the arid, on-going transactionsbetween

the sexes.Like 'Rain Check', the conflict which gives rise to the story ending is the

question of whetherthe couplewill havesex. This appearsto be one of the central

preoccupationsin this collection. In the most basicway, Barthelmeseems to be

suggestingthat this questionis one that preoccupiesnot only his narrativesbut the

narratives of the lives of his contemporaryAmericans.

The Circular Siructure: 'Shopgirls' The processof a seeminglyclosed ending being thwartedhas already been hinted at in

'Rain Check', wherethe narrator'staking women homefor over twenty years implies a predictable inevitability to the story's outcome. In 'Shopgirls', this idea is made much more explicit. In the opening section, we find the second-personnarrator voyeuristically watching the girls. The story continues until hejoins two of the women at their apartment. At the end of the story, following Andrea's confession that her father killed himself, he finds himself daydreaming:

You imagineyourself leavingthe apartmenton a sunnyday in the

middle of the week. Three beautiful women in tiny white bikinis lift

their sunglassesas you passthem in the courtyard.They smile at you.

You drive to the mail in a new car and spendtwo hours in Housewares

on the secondfloor. You do not rememberhaving beenon the second

floor before.Kitchen equipmentis exquisite,you believe.You buy a

wood-handledspatula from a lovely girl with clean short hair. (35) 319

The narratorhas come full circle and returns,at least in his imagination,to the point at which he is found at the beginningof the story -a voyeur of the girls in the departmentstore. The key differencehere is that everythingis renewedin his imagination. Yet he hasapparently learned nothing from his experience:he will resumehis sexualsurveillance of salesgirls.Barthelme's point hereseems to be that even the most profound experiences- thosethat would, in conventionalshort fiction, invite the epiphanicmoment in thosethat hearthem - are stubbornlyrejected by his characters.The narratorhad the opportunity to learn somethingfrom Andrea's confession.But he doesnot considerhis surveillanceas morally dubiousas a result of his profound interactionwith one of the girls he watches.He revertsto his fon-ner behaviour, reminding the implied readerthat suchpotentially significant momentsin in our lives do not produceprofound change others.There has been no epiphany, nothing learnedby the narrator.

The central male protagonists in Afoon Deluxe are similar to the extent of becoming homogenised. They are average men, unremarkable, typical of the way in which the

is Margaret Atwood minimalist content aligned to the minimalist approach. writes of the such protagonists:

Thesemen are, on the average,35 to 40. With one exception,

they are either single or divorced.They haveno offspring and

appearto have no progenitors.They live in apartmentcomplexes

with swimming pools and questionabled6cor, they spenda lot of

time in cars,and they feed on restaurantmeals and TV dinners.

[ ] They in an eternalpresent consisting of the weather, ... exist 320

furniture, cars, other people's appearances,scraps of conversation.

50 Probablythey have feelings,but we aren't always sure.

Her summary highlights a process which has led several critics to argue that the

fictional world of Barthelme is notable for its lack of depth, even if that is his

deliberate intention. It certainly seemsthat by using a similar configuration of

characters - and especially the central character - he runs the risk of repetition to the

point of monotony. If he is simply trying to demonstrate the lack of variety between

imost people in contemporary America, then he runs the risk that he will invite the

same kind of criticism of his writing that he himself suggests in his censure of such a

state of affairs - his fiction, like the world he attemptsto criticise, is homogenous,

dull and banal. By omitting any detail through which the readermight identify tile

uniquenessof eachcharacter Barthelme reveals that he is more interestedin the

evocation of experienceper se than he is in individual characterisation.Even the

idiosyncrasiesof individual charactersare ironed out when repeatedseveral times

throughout the collection. Indeed, it may be considered that the characters are merely

thin stereotypes, ciphers for his particular take on human behaviour.

The minimalist enterpriseto describepainstakingly the phenomenaof everyday

its in The has become reality finally finds corollary this useof characters. person an be differentiatedby behaviour. object, stripped of personalityand can only their individuality of both characterand readeris illusory, and both are restrainedby the

The have implied Commoditisationthat governsthem. effect this might on the reader

'Male Lonely: Aloon Deluxe' TheNew Iork TimesBook Review July 31,1983, -I M. Atwood and P. 29. 321

is to dissolve the boundariesbetween reader and character,between the real and the

fictional world.

The Inexplicit Ending and Nothingness The ending of 'Feeders' representsthe convergenceof the inability of the narratorto

make senseof the narrativewith the narrativerefusing to be adequatelyresolved. In

both cases,the narrator's thought processand the story itself are suspendedwhen an

unforeseenevent takesplaces, thwarting the meditationsof the narratoras the implied

reader assumeshe is about to makesense of the narrative:

I hear her talking to Iris, whispering,but I can't makeout what's being

said. I wonder if I shouldjust go aheadand leavewithout saying

goodbye,but I decidethat would be worsethan staying,so I sit and

drink my coffee. I shoot the lanternbeam around the room, then out

the window, where ft hits one of Mrs. Jaymar'sfeeders. I play the light

out there for a few minutes,thinking about Iris and me, how we usedto

roughhousetogether and how we usedto do certainthings - like wear

heavy coats inside in the winter. That*swhen I spot Cecil, wrappedin a

lime-greenparka, hugging the trunk of the willow. (23 1)

Barthelme showsa playfulnessin his approachto the ending,a senseof humour that

[Jere, do is runs throughout the collection of stories. the confusionabout what to by beginnings lantern into quickly replaced the of understandingthat castingthe the fie is both literally figuratively illuminating his he garden brings. and situation and as does so, he beginsto considerhis relationship.One of his memoriesis of him and Iris 322

wearing 'heavy coats' inside. But when he shinesthe light aroundthe garden,it picks

out Cecil. He is in a heavy coat, possibly indicatingthat the narrator's life hasbeen

usurpedby the strangenessand isolation that Cecil represents.

In severalof the storiesdiscussed above the narratorprovides some indication of

conclusion by providing a commentarywhich, albeit obliquely, addressesthe

potential of the story to resolvethe conflict. This kind of commentary,as I have

shown in my readingsof Hemingway'sendings, is the most expedientway of

providing narrativeclosure. In storiessuch as 'Exotic Nile', the narrator's

commentary is completely omitted and replacedwith dialogue.The capacityof the

narrator to 'tell', or at leasthint at where he might have been,is a significant moment

had it not beenrejected out of hand,and is missingas a result. This is how 'Exotic

Nile'ends:

"Pleased to meet you, " I said. I swept my menu off the table, opening

it with a flourish that rocked the empty wineglass. Lorraine caught the

glass before it hit the table. "Thank you, " I said.

"We'll just get the girl a snack," Nassarsaid. "Then speedby the

blimp ruins on the way home.You know about the blimp ruins? Out

past the Air Force base?It's crazy out thereat night." (186)

in the absenceof the narrator's commentary,this might be consideredin termsof how

it functions as a dramatic momentof conclusion.How doesthis dialoguemodify our

interpretative In this Nassar, expectations of closure? particular story, the owner of the 323

apartmentswhere the narratorlives, introducesthe narratorto his wife's younger

sister, Lorraine.This seeminglyinnocent party begin to form an increasinglystrange

dynamic when Lorraine flirts with the narratorwith the tacit approvalof Nassar.in

the final scene,they sit at a table and Nassarinvites them to go to the abandonedAir

Force base,where he says:"'It's crazy out thereat night."' (186). The ending is an

exampleof interpretativeequivocation because it doesnot fully explain the exact

dynamic that exists betweenthe three people.The notion of 'showing' what is

happeningthrough dialoguefurther complicates,rather than elucidates,their

relationships.It asksthe readerto answersuch questions as: what doesLorraine mean

when sheclaims that: ""Mariana's crazy," shesaid. "He's just a regular guy"' (185)

or: what doesthe cryptic introductionby Nassarof the narratorto Lorraine mean:

"'See," Nassarsaid to Lorraine. He openedhis handtoward me. "Angel of Mercy."'

(186).

The narrator9s perspective is a product of the several, overlapping conversations that

We learn little take place throughout the story. of the narrator's comprehension of implied them. Rather, like the narrator, the reader witnesses a series of events that

little In the forceful appear to make sense. absenceof any explicit, narrative here because, Hemingway's the first-person commentary - missing unlike narrator,

is bewildered the implied the the narrator confused and - reader shares uncertainty of

Once the this the reader to ask the narrator. again, mystery of relationship encourages

left indeed even unconsidered, by the narrator: what do Nassar questions unanswered,

from the Barthelme complicates Moon Deluxe by and Lorraine want narrator? behaviour descriptions leave introducing the possibility that or surface the possibility

When Barthelme is the he for misinterpretation. not using second-person narrator 324

adoptsa narratorsimilarly absentto that found in much of In Our Time and frequently

usedin [Vill YouPlease Be Quiet, Please?.Such a narrator,I haveargued, does not

interpretthe text he or shenarrates and as a result the meaningof the text is less

explicitly stable.Barthelme draws attention to the innateinstability of meaningin

texts with absentnarrators throughout Moon Deluxe. His methodis to draw attention interpretative to thoseplaces where slippagemight occur, that is, wherean elementof

ambiguity is deliberatelyintroduced.

So far I have focusedupon the endingsof Barthelme9sstories in Moon Deluxe. In the

conventional model for short story structure, referred to by Lohafer el al. as the

fconflict-and-resolution* model, this pivotal moment resolves the conflict set up in the

story. it is worthwhile considering, therefore, exactly the quality of this conflict.

Throughout the collection, that conflict circulates around a simple question: will the

couple in question have sex?

, Open' endingshave long beena part of the Modernistprinciple to reveal (as opposed

to resolve) a significant momentin the life of the centralcharacter. This madethe

short story particularly suitedto the 'epiphanic' revelation,the brevity of which idea intense, maintained a focus upon the of but short-lived,moment. As I havemade Carver is clear in the previouschapter, working within the modernisttradition of short

f-iction by hinging his storiesaround such moments.

Yet Barthelme refusesto adhereto this convention.Rather, the endingsof his stories

idea throughoutthe that is sustain the expounded narratives: experience not 325 necessarilymeaningful, any morethan it can be of the behaviourit describes.Endings are like beginningsfor Barthelme,in somecases almost literally: they haveno special narrative function other than to as a more or lessarbitrary startingpoint. Considerthe ending of the title story 'Will You PleaseBe Quiet, Please?':

And then he turnedto her. He turned in what might havebeen a

stupendoussleep, and he was still turning, marvelling at the

impossiblechanges he felt moving over him.51

The resultsof those 'impossible changes'are not madeexplicit, in keepingof

Carverýsmethod suggesting change. But it is quite clear that this is a highly

in life. It fulfils significant moment the protagonist's the potentialof the conventional 'epiphanic', Compare story ending to expressan profound moment. this to the ending of Barthelme's 'Trip':

She opens her purse, closes it again, then comes away from the door

and stands in front of him.

I don't know how to explain all this, " he says, smoothing the skirt

at her hip with his fingers. Mrs. Kiwi is coming across the oyster-shell

lot swinging a plastic bag full of biscuits.

Fay slips her glasses into place. "When's your birthday? she says.

I want to get you something nice for your birthday. " (116)

be Quiet, Please?(London: The Harvill Press,1995), IS 1. 51R. Carver lVill YouPlease p. 326

Banality replaces profundity. Despite the mystery of Harry's awkward confession that

he doesn't know how 'to explain it all', the story ends with a thoroughly prosaic

response, expressed in the most clichdd language.Mrs. Kiwi's appearanceanticipates the shift from the potentially significant moment raised by Harry's admission to the trivial question with which it is met. If there was a moment when this narrative could have assertedthe significance'sof this 'trip' in the lives of Fay and Harry, then it is stubbornly resisted.I do not considerBarthelme's endings in Moon Deluxeto be 'open' in the traditional, modernistsense. Being 'open' suggeststhe possibility of significance, as yet unrealisedin the story as it endsbut which potentiallycan be 'closed' by the imposition of a given interpretation.Rather, Barthelme's method seems to suggestthat there is no foundationupon which the endingsuggests and 'open' quality. However, following Lohafer,this is not necessarilya negativeenterprise. She suggests that ending without resolutionmight reflectthe 'modem' predicament:

H. E. Bates and Nadine Gordimer, who argue that the story has

been influenced by the 'new' clich6s: modem malaise, occasioned

by loss of faith in orderly and contained systems of thought, leading 52 to a view of life and art as fragmented and inconclusive.

She continues:

[ ] is the way in which a ... the closing off of possibilities not only story may grant that equilibrium of information and assimilation.

" S. Lohafer Coming to Termswilh the Short Story (Baton Rouge:Louisiana State University Press, 1983), P. 85. 327

The readermay also be brought to an awarenessof ramified

implications. We do not needto feel that the obscurehas been made

53 plain. Mystery is not confusion; it is the outline of wonder.

It is not necessarilya failure of Barthelme'sthat he rejectsthe traditions of conventional literatureto explain. But as Lohafer hints at, it certainly makesfor a more challenging reading.

Arguably, Barthelmewrote about 'nothing' as an antidoteto what he saw as the extraordinary lives of conventionalfictional characters.Hemingway suggested that he knew a great deal about his subject,a knowledgethat would be presentwithin the text without being directly alluded to. In contrastwith Hemingway's 'iceberg principle',

Barthelme's fiction providesa meticulousattention to surfacedetail without suggestingthat this detail needto explain anything. In most caseswhat you seeis the product of one corporationor another.Understanding the real world, then, is to understandthe languageof what you seearound you - the commodity.The contemporary world is comprisedof exactly what you seeon the surface:what you see is what you get.

53Lohafer, p. 97. 328

Part Five: Barthelme's Contemporary Realism

Barthelme certainly usesbranded objects as part of his realist enterprise.As such,his

branding of objectsrepresents a movementtowards a more accuratedepiction of the

objects of everydayreality, an ambition which can be found in both Hemingway and

Carver. Barthelme's fiction aspiresto this kind of 'perfect reproduction',or

'hyperreality'. Excluding namebrands would be at odds with suchan ambition.

But unlike either Hemingway or Carver, Barthelme cites a quasi-political reason for

his interest in the everyday. He says in the introduction to LMv ofAverages that: 'I

fond the because the it 954The focus grew of mundane of way spoke of us all . upon the

everyday has caused some critics to suggest a smallness of vision, and that such

detailed attention to the everyday becomes prosaic, dull and unworthy of literary

attention. In the introduction to Lmv ofAverages, Barthelme assertsthat: 'You also

find a polite anarchy here, a deep-background political spine masquerading as

y. 55One Barthelme have to include brand disinterest[ ... reason why may chosen

names is to reflect more accurately the way in which society talks about everyday

is objects. Certainly, if Barthelme seeking a fidelity to realistic speech patterns, for

have include brands example, he would to certain as we use them.

Barthelme's attitude towardshis contemporaryconsumer society is ambivalent.At

is both beautiful; he further fuse once the superficial world trivial and and seeksto these to suggestthe trivial is beautiful. H is most consideredand sustainedreading of

54Barthelme (2000), p. xv, my italics. 53 Barthelme (2000), p. xviii. 329

this appearsin his discussionof the differencesbetween beauty in the naturaland

artificial worlds: beautycan be found in the everydayman-made world aroundyou,

rather solely in the natural world:

figure is, it's [ ] instead The way you your world. ... so of waiting for this world to change,instead of looking for major natural

beauty jut [ ] look let be to up, ... you aroundand yourself touched. Part of it is physical, part graphic,part symbolic, part

connotative."

Barthelme rejoices in his contemporary consumer society, a reality that he recognises

detached from His fiction as transitory, further nature and therefore artificial. attempts to demonstrate the beauty within the unnatural world of malls, diners and

dinosaurs, farms In his fiction supermarkets, of toy ant and odd socks. this sense, it being encompasses an acute, minimalist attention to the surface reality without it What be found predicated upon a natural world which gives value. can on the is for Barthelme*s fiction. surface of the everyday world enough

Barthelme is a post-modernwriter in that he is especiallyinterested in the ways in

helps his his which the languageof commodity culture to construct charactersand the function the readers. Barthelme'srefusal to allow everyday of everydayobject as indicative of social statusto be replacedby the rhetoric of assigningemotional

has inflection. Like his C.Orollaries with objects a peculiarly post-modem post-modem

5613arthelme(1998), p. 27. 330 contemporaries,he is concernedwith the function of languageto shapeidentity, in his case,the discourseof commercialism.

Realism and the Objectification of Characters Barthelme begins 'Box Step' with a themethat is presentthroughout this collection, the relationshipbetween the natural and the artificial. DespiteAnn being 'pretty' she was unsuitablefor fulfilling a careeras a product model becauseof what are perfectly natural, commonfeatures - fair skin and freckles.Ann doesnot conform to the standardsset by the commercialworld of advertising.The implication is that our notions of the natural and the attractiveare being erodedby commercialimperatives.

She is being evaluatedin termsof her function as a salespersonfor this product and she is useful only in terms of her relation in a role as a commodity. This hasa knock- on effect. Like her now defunct role as a product model,our introductionto her refers both to her appearanceand her sexualand marital availability; she is 'pretty' and

'divorced'. The objectification of Ann in the commercialworld can be equally applied to Henry. But Barthelmedoes not condonesuch a position: rather,he holds it up to be identify, deconstruct, for discourse satirised. His ambition is to then the potential the of advertisingto objectify its consumers.

The descriptionof the office interior decorationintroduces other instancesof

Barthelme's interestin appearances.Barthelme lavishes great care upon its description, his enthusiasmfor the world of surfacerealities is apparent.Colour is

in in Barthelme especially important understandingthe way which usesobjects and Henry havebeen their appearances.In this example, tells of threecolours that usedto decorate his office; 'charcoal', 'chipboard-gray' and 'gunmetal'. Thesevariations on 331 grey tell us somethingabout the function of the decoration.Grey is both conventionally a dull colour, functional in its useas a bland and non-specific background for the working world. The windows are eventinted, to hold the world of colour outside at a distance.The only bright colour in the room is the salmonof Ann's shirt. There is a corollary herebetween the imposition of colour in the room and colour in Henry's life.

11feel like I'm inside a felt hat', shesays, which vividly conveysher claustrophobia.

She continuesto voice her oppositionto the environment:elsewhere, she standsby

I Italian the window and shortly after'[ ... swings one of the gray visitor's chairs around to face the window(9) and so reject the interior, and shehas arranged the trip

because j beach Gulf, to Biloxi, of the , the the rest of that' (9). Onceagain an opposition is set up: Ann seemsmore intent to explorethe outsideworld, whilst

Henry seemsmore reluctant.Flis ant farm suggeststhat he desiresnot to bring that outside world inside, but to control it. That the antskill and eat one anotheris a reminder of the ultimate impossibility of his futile attemptat control. The emphasis upon colour continues:... Your socksdon't match,Henry", shetells him. That the designs don't match eachother would be the usual implication but there is also the suggestionthat the socksdo not matchthe rest of the room. Ann is gently mocking

Henry and simultaneouslygently criticising the dangersof conformity in an overtly homogenisedenvironment. fie says,as if in clarification: 'She meantthey don't match eachother' (10). Henry usesthis mismatchas a justification for her having a drink with him: "'I needhelp with these," I say, pointing at the socks.' (10). Colours have becomenot only important for the readeras literary trope, useful for contrasting 332

the statusof the characters,but as a yardstick for thosecharacters themselves. The

mismatch of colours is seen as a symptom of social inadequacy.

Objectification and GenderConflict in a review of Moon Deluxe,Margaret Atwood notesthat severalof the women in the 57 collection are tall. In somecases they are a lot taller than their male counterpartsand

exhibit imposing physical characteristics:'Antonia is the woman you saw in the

traffic; she's huge,extraordinary, easily over six feet. Taller than you.' (68). In a

straightforward sense,these physical characteristics reflect the power and elevated status of the women in Moon Deluxe. Moreover,when one considersour first

introduction to Antonia, anothereffect becomesclear: 'You*ve seenthe driver on

looks other evenings; she strikingly like a young man - big, with dark, almost red hair clipped tight around her head' (61). Women are beginning to exhibit attributes conventionally held by men. If Duncan and Billy of 'Tbe Browns' represent an

are uneasy and somewhat forced alliance, then Cherry and Lois of 'Lumber' moýe natural and closely bonded. When Lois is having what she describes as a 'crisis' it is

Cherry who spends much of the night speaking to her in an attempt to be supportive. 58

Around such power, men becomeuneasy. In 'Rain Check' a man suffersover using his Visa card at dinner with a date: perhapsshe will think that he's over his credit limit, and she's previously lookedat him as if he's alreadyfailed to impress.These small momentsare the expressionof the profound desireat the root of severalof

57 Atwood, p. 1. There are more than one examplesof this kind of sisterhood.In 'Feeders, the young women Iris and polly have developeda close friendshipwhich protectsthem from the sinister Cecil Puttnam. 333

Barthclme's malc protagonists. The narrator in 'Safeway' imagines making love to a

woman 'in response to firm commands'. Barthelme wants to demonstrate how some

men, and by extension of the second-personnarration, the reader and his or her

society, might negotiate this sometimes difficult gender-gap. The final stage of

'Shopgirls' provides one of the most sustained and powerfully effective critiques on the objectification of women found with Moon Deluxe. Finding himself somewhat

reluctantly in Andrea's apartment, the narrator and voyeur listens to Andrea recount a

story about her father:

hurricane [ ] father "Once, when therewas a coming ... my required [ ] He that we make all the preparations ... carefully plotted the storni's courseon a chart he cut out of the newspaper.[... ] At eight in the

morning the radio announcerread a bulletin from the weatherservice:

Elsie has startedto move again,but shehad reversedher courseand

headed for Mexico. [ ] He big was now southwest,straight ... was a

man, a powerful man physically, and I rememberhim fillingrý that

doorway betweenhis study and the living room of our house,I

rememberthe way his voice soundedand how his eyeslooked when

he told us, and I rememberwatching him retreatinto his study and

close the door. fie shot himself in the temple with a twenty-two-

caliber pistol". (34)

Through this story Andrea is transformedfrom the object of the narrator's voyeuristic desire into an individual, whosehumanity is evident in her pain, her personalhistory,

illusion her breaksdown, and her place within a family. But as the of objectification 334

the narrator ceasesto become attracted to her. His desire is based upon people as

individuals. objects and as glossy surfaces, not as His desires are aligned to this mode

of discourse and when a character becomes more rounded and explicitly expresses

some depth, the protagonist has no way to respond or reciprocate. He has been

6produced' by the society which envelops him. Typically for Barthelme, this

revelation is expressed through an image of Andrea's appearance:

You notice for the first time that one of Andrea's eyebrowsis plucked

too much, and that the brows are not symmetricalwith respectto the

bridge of her nose.[... ] Onceyou haveseen this tiny imbalance,you

cannot stop seeingit. Her face looks wrong suddenly,almost deformed.(35)

The narrator ironically considershimself tactful when he askshimself: 'You wonder if you should ask Andrea about Sally and Jenny,but decidethat it might hurt

Andrea's feelings, so you say nothing.' (35). That he could think sucha thing is in itself an indicator of his callousness.The key here is his failure to recognisehis prejudice, his almost pathologicaldesire for femaleobjectification. The narrator's behaviours are productsof what he considersto be the correctthing to do, ratherthan stemming from a natural feeling, or inference.His actionsare 'artificial' like the language objects that surroundhim. The of persuasion,of the desireabove all to sell themselves,to presentthe idealisedproduct of themselvesimplies that the discourse of advertising has permeatedtheir lives. 335

Humour plays a seriousrole in Moon Deluxe and it is often usedto undermineor implicitly criticise the position of the male protagonist.In 'Lumber', it is usedto isolate Frank. As the two women cometogether in a hug, so Frank is falls to the ground. As the girls hug:

[ ]I back little, trying to the trip ... up a get out of way, over the record

boxes, and then, to avoid failing, do a kind of somersault onto the couch.

The women pause in their embrace to look.

"He an acrobat of some kind? " Lois says. (167)

The laconic, sarcasticpunch-line from Lois makesFrank the butt of thejoke. fie has contributed to their debasementof him by performing in just the way that they might expect from their inferior. Temporarily he hasbecome their clown and it will prove incredibly difficult for Frank to overcomethis during the rest of the story. Despite their obvious power, their lives are not as straightforwardfor the women in 'Lumber' and their desiresare fraught with ambiguity. Lois throws the clothesof her violent lover in the street,but upon looking at him, thinks him 'beautiful' so shetakes them in. A striking and interestinginteraction where genderconventions are overturned intimacy, I comes at the beginning of 'Rain Check': 'Hoping for a quick start telling

Lucille things I'm afraid of (232). However,Lucille, in keepingwith the figure of an

is crnpowered woman, rejectshis scheme:'Lucille saysshe not afraid of anything, so in I shut up about loneliness' (232). Onceagain, there is a lonely man (like Henry

'Box Step' and Frank in 'Lumber') whoseloneliness makes him behavestrangely.

Lucille is sexually predatory:in the final sequence,it is shewho initiates the

have (240). possibility that they might sex 336 in these examples, Barthelme inverts the gender bias in a way that the other minimalist writers in this study do not. Hemingway's gender bias remains unpalatable, and despite Carver's efforts to introduce women more completely into his narratives, it is Barthelme who more completely asserts their power, even at the expense of his male protagonists. Part of Barthelme's enterprise is satiric and his subject here satirises the 'gender wars' of his contemporary world. In most cases, women triumph and men are seen to be on the whole the weaker sex, as can be found in their interactions with one another, as I will show below.

Hemingivay's Nick Adains and the Central Protagonistsof Moon Deluxe I suggestthat there exists an affinity betweenNick Adams in his stories of In Our

Time and the central protagonistsof Moon Deluxe. In the chapteron Hemingway, I demonstratedhow using the samecharacter several times gave Hemingway the opportunity to expresssomething of an evolution, almost in aspirationto the way a novel shows characterdevelopment over time. The samecould be said about the central male protagonistof Aloon Deluxe. Theseprotagonists are like a seriesof different Nick Adams, facedwith severalslightly different problems.Despite character similarities, the context of the storiescan be differentiated: Henry of 'Box

Step' as frightened of responsibility and regressive;the narratorof 'The Browns', married with a child; the narrator of 'Shopgirls', a voyeur who escapesreality via fantasy. Yet, unlike Nick Adams, none of them exhibit any development,moral or

have little by Ann drags otherwise. Henry of 'Box Step' appearsto changed the time him into the traffic at the story end. His furtive attemptto reassurethe daughterof his friends is disastrousand so, once again, he regressesinto a childlike state.As I have shown, the circular structure of 'Shopgirls' implies the second-personnarrator 337

will end where he has once begun,by watching a new set of girls in the same

department store.

Indeed, Barthelme's men seemunsteady, perhaps a central reasonwhy they are unable to developemotionally. Henry in 'Box Step' complainsof feeling nervous'all the time' (11). In 'Exotic Nile', the narratoris paranoidthat his landlord's wife might not be taking him seriously: 'I'd gottenthe impressionthat Marianathought I was si I ly, but there wasn't any evidencethat that's what shethought. ' (177). More extremely, Polly's warning that 'Cecil's a caution' (229) is realised when the narrator watches him from the window: 'That's when I spot Cecil, wrappedup in a lime-green parka, hugging the trunk of a willow' (231). One way the male characterdeals with the apparentpower of women is to retreat into fantasy,as I haveshown at the end of

'Shopgirls'. The dream-worldof the voyeur is contrastedto the hard detail of the external, banal reality of the shoppingmail. One suchoutlet for his characters,like

Henry in 'Box Step' is escape.Escape is a principle which dominatesseveral of the charactersin Moon Deluxe. However,this is not analogousto quasi-spiritual dimension of Carver's epiphanies.Rather, it is the reverse:when things becometoo tough for the characters,they tend to becomeintrospective and regressive.

Barthelme's vision of the humancharacter, tied to consumptionbut necessarily detached from it, providesa tensionthat runs throughouthis collection. Through the understandingof a central motif suchas this, storieswhich might appear inconsequentialnow take on a deepersignificance for the reader. 338

For these men, the kind of strengththat women exhibit in Moon Deluxe seemsto undermine them, making communicationeven more difficult. 'The Browns' is the story of an uneasyrelationship between two neighbouringcouples, whose relationship experiencesfurther tensionafter their dogsfight. Duncan,the husbandof , is often describedin passiveterms. He shufflesacross the carpet,and suffers from sinus pain that keepshim in bed. Pilar saysof him and their dog: "'Between him and Jupiter

I've got my handsfull... (80). He was also ill with sun-poisoningwhen the Browns spent a week in Key West and was confined to bed whilst Pilar and Jupiter 'went for long walks on the beach' (79). In order to escapethis isolation, he repeatedlyinvites

Billy, the narrator,and Allison, to their housefor drinks. Duncanpounces upon the opportunity to confide in the narratoronce they are alone:

When Allison was out of sight, he grabbedmy arm and pulled

me back to the couch."All the women I ever slept with were lousy

lovers," he said. "[... ]I askedBert and he said it was the samefor

him, but that's the kind of thing he always says."

"Bert?" I said

"My analyst," Duncansaid. (84)

Unhappy with what he thinks is an insincererelationship with his analyst,Duncan takes this opportunity to turn to the narratoras a replacement.Immediately, he launches into the kind of story found conventionallyof interestto psychoanalysts,an episode from his childhood. It is both deeply self-revelatoryand obviously greatly intimate: 339

"You know, " Duncan said, "when I was a kid, I played priest

all the time. I made altars out of cardboard boxes covered with

sheets. My mother had this pewter cup I used as a chalice, and

I used the Columbia Encyclopedia for a missal. (84-85)

In relating this story, Duncancreates an uncomfortableintimacy with Billy; the reader learns from the beginningof the story that the coupleshave only spentthe evening together twice before. Whenhe asksBilly a leadingquestion, the latter feels

"'[ ] You do Cut bread compelled to acquiesce: ... that? sliceswith a glassand mash them flat?" "I did that," I said."Sure. "' (85). However,this is only the preambleto what appearsa far more seriousstory:

1'[ ]I him [Del, his son] in Catholic school, but I get ... wanted a the feeling they aren*t what they were. I mean, I had to go to class

for six weeks in the convent in fi fth grade becauseI threw an eraser

at this pig of a nun who lied to the Mother Superior about me,

I'd her 'sexual [ I told her made remarks about apparatus'" ...

Duncan [ ] knee "I had this teacher ... grabbed my again. named

Miss Phantom when I was in school; Del's got Sister Susie. What

good is that? Nuns used to sneak around in those habits, and now

look at 'em. " (85-86)

Duncan appearsincreasingly angrier throughouthis story and his angerseems directed primarily at women.Barthelme has Billy breakfrom this increasinglystrange 340 and hostile conversationthrough body languagenot through words - he standsup and removes himself physically from Duncan's immediatepresence, despite saying, with little obvious commitment,that he agreeswith him. The languageof behaviour,our gestures,facial expressionand the like, is equally a non-verbalone and here it augmentswhat has alreadybeen a narrativefull of dialogue.The distancebetween these two men illustratesa trend in minimalist fiction, the difficulty in connectingtwo people through language.This points to a larger concernfor Moon Deluxe, the ways in which meaningis proneto slippage,from pen to paper,from text to reader. 341

Each section in this chapteroutlines how elements- the second-personnarrator, the branded object and the story endingsand characterisation- contributeto Barthelme's ambition to reject the normativefunction of literatureto suggestsmotives and explanation. This function is directly linked to Iser's conceptof ambiguity, or what I call equivocation(following the notion that it is the result of a deliberatestrategy, rather than merely accidental- an idea especiallyrelevant to Barthelme).As such,

Moon Deluxe createsa seriesof interpretativeproblems as a result of a wilful omission of literary conventions.It is perhapsthe leastconventional, most experimental collection in my study.As such,it representsa culmination in minimalism's tendencytowards active readerengagement.

One result of the sustaineduse and descriptionof everydayobjects and the foregrounding of productsis that charactersare dwarfed by objects.This is in part

Barthelme's intention. A centralaspect of all minimalist writers is their interestin . For each it differs in methodand effect in accordancewith their historical context. Yet in doing so, Barthelmeinvites a dangerouscomparison. Unless he finally assertsthat peopleare more importantthan their possessions,then he could be said to be maintaining a statusquo. I hopeto haveshown how Barthelmeassembles some configurations of genderrelationships to begin to demonstratehis great interestin creating an authenticcharacter, even if it this is at the expenseof expressinga character which is sometimesflat, uncommunicativeand flawed. Bartheli-nesays of his interest in the representationof reality as: 'the world as reflectedin the details of 59 our routine lives' and this emphasisremains present throughout Moon Deluxe.

Unlike Hemingway and Carver,Barthelme's minimalism doesnot attemptto convey

11Barthelme (2000), P. xvi. 342 a greatertruth that 'sits behind' the surfacesthat he describes,although this does sometimesassert itself through readerparticipation, but insteadwants to simply describe thosethings themselvesand therebyexpress a world at a particular time, through particular setsof characters.The world to Barthelmeis enough;like the precooked chicken wrappedin cellophane,it has its own mysterieswhich neither the writer nor the readercan standapart from and wholly understand.

There is an interestingparadox at the heartof Barthelme'sambition in Moon Deluxe. I have shown how by using the second-personnarrator Barthelme seeks to invite the reader to respondto his work directly, as he or she is transformedfrom an implied reader to an intradiegeticaddressee. However, Barthelme seeks to underminethe traditional normative function of fiction by removingthe 'extraordinary c:ircurn stances' and replacingthem with a thoroughgoingimmersion in the everyday for of modern America. This posesa problem the actualreader. When he or she is directly implicated within the narrativein an environmentwhere the non-native'rules' of fiction have beenrejected, traditional readingstrategies become useless and instead in are replacedwith strategiesderived from their experience the real world. In the interpret example from 'Shopgirls*,this meansthat the actualreader must not the fictional model it implies (becausethose rules of fiction havebeen destabilised) but instead must interpretthe situation as if they encounterit in the real world. By

fiction he his rejecting the normative rules of underminesthe readingstrategies that As his fiction actual readermight haveas part of their readingskills. a result, reading is demanding in a way quite different from fiction that retainsa firm senseof the

literature normative function of to explain. 343

Barthelme progressively focuses upon the object until it moves from the natural to the

artefact and finally to a specific product. In doing so, he presents the object as a

figurative product, drained of significance, representative only of its status as a brand.

In doing so, he is interrogating the differences between the natural and unnatural,

between the man-made and the artificial:

You look more closely at the purse,twisting the lip a little so you

can see the label, on which, in very small print, it says: MAN-MADE

MATERIALS. (23)

Barthelme's fictional world of Moon Deluxe is one in which his 'fabulous, grotesque'

is The the he to pre-cooked chicken the culture. elements of reality which seeks

describe are man-made: realism, then, is a mode of discourse which seeks to capture this man-made element of the real world. 344

CONCLUSION:

The Past, Present and Future of Literary Minimalism

My study endsin 1983with Barthelme'sMoon Deluxe but the phenomenonof rninimalism continues,indeed flourishes, and now I wish to turn to how it might develop. So, I focus upon one of the most historically significant, if artistically less successful,collections of short stories,All Hail Me Neiv Purilans. 345 part One: Looking Back

My thesis has beenan attemptto unravelthe paradoxat the centreof literary minimalism: how can a literaturethat deliberatelyendorses and adoptsreduction, elision and absencesolicit sucha full, complex engagementfrom its readers.

At the heart of my answeris a simple equation:the more the writer leavesout, the more the readermust put in. The work of Wolfgang Iser, althoughnot basedon a specific study of minimalism, did much to suggestitself as a suitablebasis for application to this question.But the notion of interpretativeindeterminacy, which Iser in sees as inherent in all texts I argueis more present sometexts than others. Such texts include minimalist short stories;and becausetheir meaningfulconcision leadsto indeterminacy which is deliberateand controlled, I employ to the term 'equivocation' to suggesta deliberateambiguity from the writer and responsibilityof the readerto resolve it.

An analysis of the extent to which equivocation is controlled led me to an important discovery. There appears to be a trend from Hemingway to the present day in the

is Hemingway extent to which the reader encouraged to respond. was more prone deliberately to direct the reader's interpretation through the use of his 'iceberg' theory

Carver Barthelme less of omission of pivotal narrative elements. and adopted a strict

interpretation is less directed freer-roaming. In approach, where the reader's and other but instead be found in words, omissions occurs not at those significant moments can

his her feelings; in development the reticence of a character to voice or the of

function as the narrative confined set of significant objects, whose symbolic changes

in the it malaise unexpressed progresses; the tone of work, where represents a spiritual 346 by the large gesturebut is insteadsomething overheard, something glimpsed at the edges of the narrative,something which may appeartrivial but which the text encourages the reader to see as pivotal.

Taken to its logical conclusion,however, this 'equation' becomesmeaningless. An empty page(or no book at all) would be the culmination of the tendencyto 'leave out'. Rather,I have suggestedways in which the writer leavesinterpretative gaps, which might more prosaicallybe consideredclues, and to when and how the reader might introducehis or her interpretation.A discussionof this sophisticated phenomenonoccupies a large part of my work. As such,this thesisnot only contributes to our understandingof literary minimalism but to any literature which makes especialuse of the minimalist principle to paredown, imply or reduce.To this end, I hope my analysisof suchelements as purposiveomission might be useful to other writers, eventhose not consideredstrictly minimalist.

Hemingway Certainly there arc limits to which Hemingway can be labelled as a minimalist. Unlike

Hemingway interpretation either Carver and Barthelme, sought to control the reader's

in he him from being of his omissions. The period which wrote, too, would exclude

late 20th Yet part of the Minimalist phenomenon of the century. there remains

his be to that Minimalist compelling reasons why work might usefully compared of

I have done here, in has writers and that is what a more complete way than come before.

I have suggestedways in which minimalism developedto engagewith its

ideologies literary trends.This demonstratedthrough contemporary issues, and was a 347 consideration of the ways in which the writers presentconsumer products. This begins with Hemingway's fascinationwith the minutiaeof the banal,commonplace object; through Carver's recognitionof the 'immensepower of the everyday[object]'; and which culminatesin Barthelme'smeditation upon the power and affect of the brand- name product.

Perhapsthe most significant contributionmade by grouping Hemingwaywith later minimalists is the light it shedson the origins and early developmentsof minimalism.

I contend that Hemingway beganto usea prototypeof the pared-downstyle employed by Carver over fifty years later for three major reasons.First, whilst working as a reporter for various newspapersHemingway was greatly influencedby thejournalistic idiom which soughtto report newsimpartially, and with attentionto detail. The style sheetsof the various newspaperswere an integral part of Hemingway'sapprenticeship and, as I have shown,the distinction betweenhis fiction and reportagewere often blurred.

Second, Hemingway,like countlessothers of his generation,sought to find a modeof discourse which would to conveycontemporary experience of the First World War.

He stripped his fiction of languagewhich he consideredto havebeen made bereft of meaning through the war: words suchas 'honour*, 'courage' and 'duty.

This was partially responsiblefor the minimal style, where hyperbole is rejected in favour of commonly used, shorter words. This minimalist idiom was also the result

from Gertrude Stein Ezra of the influence of other writers, most notably and pound and the Imagist movement.Their influence on Hemingway was significant, 348

and they taught him to adopt severalof those elementsthat have come to have

been known as minimalist. Pound's Imagism forced Hemingway to focus his

figurative attention on the resonanceof a single, integral image, a device which

was used most significantly to createan emotional context and tone at the his beginning of stories. Such advice augmentsStein's insistencethat he find a

`rnethod' by which to approachall his fictional subjects, 'concentration' which

prefigures the spirit of latter Minimalism.

Carver developed Hemingway's 'Carver the role of absentnarrator by making his narrator a

voyeur of the sceneshe or shenarrates. The effect of this was contradictory. On the

one hand, this meantthat Carver's narratorsrefused to imposeon the meaningof the

story becausethey were not omniscient,reliable and authoritativethird-person

narrators but were fallible, first-personnarrators whose interpretationwas presented

as less than definitive. Conversely,it was thesevery qualities which meantthey were

more heavily implicatedwithin the narrativeand so narrowedthe gap betweenwriter-

narrator, the narrativeand reader.Carver exposed the narrator's,and by extensionthe

writer's, role as one that was both heavily implicated in the creationof the narrative

and prone to idiosyncraticinterpretations. The narrativeno longer appearedas if it

were a news report but was an interpretationof events.

Yet the epiphanyrepresents Carver's most significant causeof interpretative

equivocation. In most casesthe epiphanywould be experiencedby a central character at the end of the narrative.It would createthe perfect deviceto engagethe reader:it would imply a fundamentaland significant changebut without resolvingexactly what that changemight be. In many senses,Carver's useof the epiphanyechoes most 349 closely the modem short story tradition. In this model, the short story focuses upon a single moment in the life of a central character who undergoes a radical transformation. This transfon-nation is clearly understood and its implications can be speculated upon, even if the story does not discuss them directly. However, in the case of Carver, the nature of the epiphany and the effects it might have are often merely vague grounds for further speculation. How the story ends is a crucial moment in the reader's interpretation of the story.

one of the major differencesbetween Hemingway and Carver is their attitude toward everyday reality. Hemingwaywas intent on addressingthe more extremeexamples of human behaviourduring times of greatsocial and political upheavalsuch as the First

World War. Carver demonstrateshis allegianceto the everydayworld by making its object s the sourceof figurative resonance.Prosaic artefacts as shoes,records, keys and mirrors becometroubling symbols.They are notjust the causeof change,but their symbolic value iý also proneto change.A new pair of shoesbecomes a sinister symbol of invasion; a record beginslife as token of friendshipbetween neighbours and is later inverted into a symbol of their division. It is notablethat theseobjects are man-made commodities.This contrastsstrongly with Hemingway,who mostly used natural or non-commod i fied 'objects'.

Both Hemingway and Carver inheritedChekhov's useof the everydayobject as potentially displaying a corollary for the emotionalstate of their characters.If

Hemingway suggestedthat this object be naturalor non-commod i fied, then it was

Carver who introducedthe changeable,significant everydayproductinto minimalism.

In his own way, Carvertoo was interestedin extremes.Most of his charactersare in 350

some way living at extremes. Carver's interest is the interplay between societal

pressure and the individual, individuals who are shown to be largely unaware of what they want or why.

Barlhelme Moon Deluxe developsthe trend towardsimplicating more directly the readerin the text by introducing the second-personperspective. This useof 'you' immediately suggeststhe readeris somehowa participantin the text. Although there are limits to the efficacy of this strategy,it doesrepresent a growing trend to implicate the reader in the narrative. Sucha methodillustrates minimalism"s growing awarenessof the irriportance of the responseof the reader.

Barthelme's ubiquitous useof the brand-nameproduct represents the culmination of minimalism's project to captureeveryday reality with as much fidelity as possible.it also draws sustainsthe ambition, most cogentlyadvanced by Carver,that the everyday object is capableof the most emotivefigurative power. In Moon Deluxe, the brand-name is a detail usedto capturereality more accuratelyand, perhapsmore importantly, to provide the basisfor that product"sevaluation. A brand nameis not value-neutral - it appearsat a point in continuumof brand-names,from the most to the least prestigious.Barthelme's characters interact with suchbrand-names as a means to reveal more abouttheir attitudesand beliefs. Brand-namescolour

Barthelme's psychologicalrealm and external,reality.

Moon Deluxe representsthe culmination of an enterprisehinted at in the work of

Hemingway and Carver. This ambition was to erodethe explanativefunction of literature. This might be viewed as a logical extensionof the modem short story's 351

desire to illuminate experiencerather than resolve,or explain the significanceof, the

narrative. By radically underminingthe role of literatureto explain, Barthelmecreates

an interpretative vacuumwhich must be filled by his readers.Unlike Hemingway,he

gives few clues as to how this interpretativemight begin: there are no central omissions which, when replacedwith an interpretativeact, resolvethe conflicts assembled by the narrative.Rather, in keepingwith the Hemingwaynarrative, his work suggeststhat there is I ittle to be found of the icebergabove the water as character motivation, mental life or beliefs are not forthcoming from reticent, unassuming and often silent characters. 352

Part Two: Minimalism in the 21" Century

Afinimalism and TheNew Puritanism Minimalism, continuesto be a major areaof interestin contemporaryliterature of the

tinited States.Indeed, the first full-scaletext on the subjectwas Cynthia Whitney

Hallett's Minimalism and the AmericanShort Story, publishedas recently as 2001.

1:)espite this fertile ground,one of the most interestingdevelopments in short story

United States.Calling n-iinimalism has taken placeoutside of the themselves'The

New Puritans', this British movementare a group of writers who have publisheda

manifesto outlining their principles and practicesalong with a collection of short

f-Iction which attemptto employ thesebeliefs (seeAppendix). So far, this collection,

New Puritans, hasbeen its it has been entitled All Hail the sole publication yet for interest.However, it has been responsible arousingmuch critical not completely in its (indeed,its in themselves in sLiccessful aims aims are problematic)and what

follows, I suggestsome of the ways in which New Puritanismfalls foul of someof the

by problems posed the minimalist aesthetic.

it does not signal any explicit allegiance to American minimalism, their 'Although is The following from debt to their American forebears undeniable. extract, the King, is , 13cttcr Than Well' by Darcn reminiscent of early minimalism's use of r,epetition:

Leaning forward, he picked up a photographfrom the desk. He looked at the face in the photographand smiled. fie looked at the face and smiled. The facesmiled, too. It had beensmiling before had he smiled and would continueto smile if he stopped.The person 353

been smiling beforethe photographwas taken and the smile had gone into the photograph.'

Point four There are other connections. from the ten point manifestohas perhapsthe

greatest resonancewith the definition of minimalism: 'We believe in textual

simplicity and vow to avoid all devicesof voice: rhetoric, authorial asides' (iii). One

can see why this might be consideredthe literary manifestationof their desireto be

'puritanical'. One of their most explicit ambitionsis to return to a kind of innocent, devoid , pure' storytelling of what they considerto be the 'tricks' of a large part of

contemporary literary fiction. In doing so, Hemingway's 'iceberg theory' would be it anathema, given that was a strategyfor imposinga directedreading, which might be

considered manipulative.I lowever, later minimalism loosenedthe role of the reader

to become frcer in his or her interpretation.The Puritanideal is the logical extension literary of the developmentof minimalism*sdeveloping aim towardsinterpretative

freedom. Yet, its aim is a little naliveand perhapsrestrictive for the writer intent on

moving their reader.

in the pursuit of such simplicity, the New Puritanssought a languagethat would,

without influence or mediation,address the readerdirectly in an idiom which captures

, he purity' or authenticityof the commonvoice. This 'common voice' translatesinto trivial liberal 'bad language'. a rather unsubtleand ultimately useof so-called As if willingly trying to shocka readercomfortable with the moresof conventional

I iteraturc, bad languageis meantto servethe dual purposeof both shockingthe reader

capturing the idiom of their time. ,qrid

131incoc(cd. )A I llailtheXmPurifans (London: Fourth Estate,2000), pp. 66-67. All page in the text rcfcr to this edition. ,, t, mbers 354

Ben Richards' 'A Ghost Story (Director's Cut)' introduces an interesting variation

upon the paucity of some adjectives to describe a key idea whilst at the same time

inverting the normal value of expletives. The word 'fucking' is used promiscuously to

colour all manner of experiences. The narrator says "'This toast is fucking delicious. "'

(23); and responds internally 'Too fucking right, Karen' (25). During its introduction to the story, the narrator explains its use as an adjective:

One I did like Clitheroe [ ] big fucker thing about ... was the of a hill that lay behind it. Words like 'unfriendly' and 'moody' cameto mind but thesewords were inappropriatebecause they were humanqualities and there was nothing humanabout PendleHill. (21)

,rhe deliberate rejection of a hyperbolic, adjectival descriptive language but with the

description is ernphasis upon aligned to minimalism's objectives. In itself, it is an interesting moment in the minimalist enterprise to capture real life authentically. In

it Hemingway's in c)ne sense, merely continues attempts to adopt a vernacular order to find a means of expressing reality with more fidelity. As such, it is in direct line with the colloquialism, equally contentious at the time, employed throughout Huckleberry f: inn's stories by Mark Twain (a favourite of Hemingway's). Critics have noted that

Carver's work contained little about their contemporary American society, consisting

homogeniscd blue collar workers all pursuing yet failing to find the ,of a white, - -

American dream. I lowevcr, wlicn employed in several of the New Puritan stories, it

Indeed, it to betray seems as gratuitous as the narratives seem sensationalist. seems

New Puritans to their 'tricks'. Bad language one of the primary aims, strip stories of is

it to the New Puritans most ubiquitous trick, and while serves colour some of the 355 conversations,it rarely aspiresto providing the kind of alternativeadjectival quality describedin the quote from 'A Ghost Story (Director's Cut)', above.

The searchfor an authentic,untainted puritanism in the New Puritandoctrine is not without further problems.As I have shown in the openingchapter on Hemingway,the absentnarrator does not commit to single perspective,allowing a freedomof interpretationthat hasthe potential to beconneamoral. Wherethere is no authorial or narrativepresence (or 'voice' as it is phrasedhere), there is no centralauthority upon which to basean interpretationof the text. One suchresult of this 'freedom' is the creationof a moral vacuum,where all moral choicesare potentially permissible.As a result, this leadsto a moral ambivalenceas the precursorto a kind of sensationalism presentin other contemporaryartistic endeavours,such as the Young British Artists'

'Sensation'art exhibition of 2001. In many storiesthe intention is to sensationalise, as the opening lines from the first story, 'Mind Control' by ScarletThomas serves to illustrate:

Mark got his Dreamcastfive minutesbefore he died. His motherwanted it buried with him.(I)

Mark's deathinforms the entire story yet we neverknow how he dies. Rather,the story is a discussionof the effects it has upon his family and friends.The parentsof the deadboy consequentlybreak down emotionally, in ways strange,darkly comical and pathetic.The motherbecomes a recluse,never leaving her bedand lives solely upon ice-cream.The father becomesequally reclusiveand only ever leavesthe house to tend the fish pond,which hasbecome an obsession.The fish in the pond disappear much to his horror and when they reappear,both he and the narratorare left puzzled: 356

','Weird, " I say. "Do you think someonereturned half of them for a reason?"

"Who knows," he says,rubbing his eyes."Who knows." (8)

Hemingway Barthelme, From to the path of minimalism's tendencyis to reject its role

to explain. In this story and elsewherein the collection, the causeof eventsis largely

irrelevant and what appearssubsequently does little or nothing to explain them. This intention is partially the result of the to capturethe momentin which eventsunfold.

The New Puritansextend the short story's focus upon a brief period by rejecting the future past and as essential,explanative contextual isation. The slight narrativesof

Ininimalism are replacedwith sensationalevents and situationsthat exist in a vacuum. ironically In one story, entitled 'The Puritans',by Toby Litt, a group of young men and women rent a country cottagein order to mass-producepornographic video tapes.

pornography and celebrity, as I will show, is in many ways the logical conclusionto

13arthelme's prophetic interestin the commodificationof peopleand the things which eventually, paradoxically,'own' them.

Nluch of the collection seems to be steeped in a knowing, self-consciously humorous tone. In this respect it is singularly successful at capturing the post-'Generation X, laconic indifference, fuelled by irony and ambivalence. In turn, this has more in

irreverent common with the playful, of much postmodernism than the

2 For New Puritans, humour sometimes turgid gravitas of minimalism. the such is a

juxtaposition between its resu it of the the seriousnessof the subject with underplayed,

'Three Love Stories' by Bo Fowler departs from even trivial, treatment. suddenly the

2 one suchmoment occurs when the writers within thegroup turn uponthemselves. in BenRichard's Dogme's films, TheIdiots. Rather , tory, the narratorwatches one of seminal thanan endorsement, bowever, the narratorfinds the film so 'tedious'that it makeshim sleep. 357

realist mode into a thinly fleshedout surrealismor .The narrator's

girlfriend, whom he tells us haspen nibs insteadof nipples,writes long and obscure

njessages over his duvet during sex. He tells us: 'It cost me a fortune in dry-cleaning

b ills' (123). The relationshipends when she finds anotherlong and obscurepassage

written in the samestyle but this time: 'it was in red. Her sisterhad written it. ' (123).

An implied principle of the New Puritansis that the distinction between'commercial'

or popular and 'literary' fiction should be brokendown. Popularfiction is ollen

dismissed by the literary establishmentwhereas, to thesewriters, plot is paramount.

-rhey seek to be the antithesisof the previousgeneration of writers. As a

contemporary review claims:

[ j They believe the last (the Puritans ... that generationof writers refer to them only as the'show-olT writers) write predominately for and for the publishing industry.They other writers also II believe that London is far too often the focus of recentfiction, and havemade a deliberateattempt to provincialisethe tales. Hence we have storics set in placesas diverseas Bedford, Prestonand Cirencester.3

is between NVbat is interestinghere the attemptto rc-establishthe relationships the

literary the industryand the writer. In this case,it is by r,cadcr, the world, publishing the in their model,an elementof literature frowned r,casscrting primacy of plot - upon for in doing, by other writers whom merely write one another- and so placing the

at the ccntre of literary creation.Yet it is noticeablealso that in severalof the ,,c, lder in TheNe)v Puritans, the plot is not as much a 'page-turner' in practice sf, ort stories

Word: The New Puritans"Guardian Unlimiied (September27 2000). 3, F. yates -The 358 as it is in principle. But as I have arguedthroughout, plot neednot be the most effective nor expedientmethod for encouragingreader participation. The Puritan effort to engagethe readerby offering him or her a seriesof clearly signpostedplots seemsunsophisticated when comparedto the complexity of the minimalist ambition to implicate the readerin the narrative.And it is herethat minimalism and the New

Puritan ideal part company.Minimalism is an experimentalliterature, which makes complex demandson its readers,and with its sophisticatedmethods of sustaining readerinteraction, it might well be consideredpart of the elitist model New

Puritanismrejects. Perhaps the New Puritansrecognised a tensionat the heart of the minimalism ambition: the very strategiesand methodsit seeksto help engagethe readerwith might also introducea distancingeffect, and put readersoff becauseit is sometimesso difficult to make senseof.

Time and Vq),eurisni Once again,the influenceof minimalism (implicit, for they never mention the tenn, nor any of its writers) is written large over their New Puritans: 'We believe in grammatical purity and avoid any elaborate punctuation' (iii) Tile fantasy of Bo

Fowler's story is contrastedto the muted understatementof much of the writing, here found in an extract from the openingof 'The Puritans' by Toby Litt:

Their bungalowwas called Sea-ViewCottage. It was locatedon

the Suffolk coast,about sevenmiles southof Southwold.The walls

bungalow [ ] They had into of the were whitewashwhite. ... moved

the bungalow in November. It was now almostApril. (165) 359

As I have stated,this story detailsthe massproduction of pornography.Unlike

rninimalism, the most ordinary environmentsare the locations for someat least

unusual, at best extraordinary,occurrences. However, in the face of such bizarre

events, the New Puritansface a problemwhich they rarely overcome:how to write a

literature basedon the purity of everydayexperience, with a languageof simplicity,

when the eventsyou write about are fantastic,uncommon and are sometimesdesigned to shock. As we have seenfor someof Hemingway's more extraordinaryevents and environments in the war, the inclusion of uncommonoccurrences might introduce a distancing effect, preventingthe readerfrom fully engagingwith a text so committed to difference.

The New Puritan endorsement of simplicity is demonstrated through their dual desire to write about a contemporary society in linear narrative time:

4. In the name of clarity, we rccognise the importance of temporal linearity and eschew flashbacks, dual temporal narratives and foreshadowing [ ] ...

8. As faithful representations of the present, our texts will avoid all improbable or unknowable speculation about the past or future. (iii)

This differs in someimportant respects from minimalism. Much of Hemingway"s treatment of the pastserved to illuminate the present,and an understandingof what had gone before was an importantpart of understandingwhat takesplace in the

beginning 'Big Two-HeartedRiver' present. The burnt town of Seneyat the of was an immediate, urgent and potent symbol of the destructionof the war that leavesNick

Adams troubled. Its corollary is the 'bum out' felt by Nick Adams' anxious,probing 360 mind. But wherethe photo of the young soldier Krebs in 'Soldier's Home' at once createsrelationship between the past, presentand future, the photographstaken by the narrator in Alex Garland's 'Monaco' of the grand prix merely capture the pure spectacleof the moment:

The girl saw me taking her picture. I zoomedin a little on her and she

looked [ ] She poutedoutrageously and surprised. ... squirmedand wriggled

and showedme a full rangeof facial expressions.Why are you taking my

photo? Oh, ]feel shy. Surely you don't think Im so prelly? Oh, you do.

Now I'm enibarrassed.Nowl'in angry. But Iforgiveyou. Here's my smile.

Shewas as comfortablewith a cameraas that. (11)

The innocence of the relationship between photographer and subject is all but lost.

Garland's narrator recognised the seemingly complex stages in the girl's reaction and lists them without elaboration, almost disinterested. This relationship echoes that between the voyeur and his or her subject, but like most things in All Hail the New

Puritans, it is more knowing, more self-conscious, and more aware. Indeed, the relationship between voyeur and object of desire is explored in a way hinted at in

Carver and developedin Barthelme.But herethe crucial relationshipis not, as we might find in a story like 'Shopgirls', betweenthe voyeur and the focus of desirebut betweenthe subjectof desireand the camera.Garland is exploring celebrity, albeit in a modified and slight form, the commodificationof peopleas opposedto the commodificationof objectsso relevantto the storiesand readersof Aloon Deluxe.

This story like severalother hererepresents a developmentin the dynamic between voyeur, reader and object. 361

one could go on with the connectionsbetween the Puritansand minimalism and the ways in which a limited applicationof minimalism's ambitions underminessuccess.

The opening point of the manifestooutlines their position as 'primarily story tellers' and that: 'Prose is the dominantform of expression'(iii), is implied by the central adoption of short fiction by minimalist writers and New Puritans.That prose is the dominant form of expressionseems to immediatelyconnect the New Puritanswith the rninimalism I've beenwriting about.But, as I've madeexplicit in the section on imagism, and is implicit throughout,is the deepconnection between minimalism and poetry. '

Like Jean-PaulSartre's belief that poetry was flawed as a vehicle of meaningbecause it could not accuratelyconvey political belief and thereforewould not revolutionise its readership, the Puritans' political enterpriseeschews the poetic for the prosaic(their is choice of representation,a manifesto, evidenceof their 'political' ambitions).And in doing so, New Puritansundermine the quality that makesminimalism so singularly

It difference in how successful in its endeavours. also points to a radical thesestories are read.

In contrast to the privileging of prosein the New Puritanstories, the readermight in adopt the readingstrategies of poetry a readingof minimalist short stories,paying density attention to the rhythm of the stark vocabulary,the of phrase,the seemingly interpretation(this is unending richnessof unsurprisingwhen one considersthat flemingway's minimalist techniquewas developedas a result of his acquaintance himself distinguished In with Ezra Pound,or that Carver was a poet). this respect, New Puritanshave beenso divergent. Ininimalism and the never 362

Someof the ideasand themeswhich remain implicit in minimalist work are made

explicit in the New Puritancollection. The gamesdeveloper of 'A Short Guide to

GamesTheory' is accusedof transposinghis professioninto his interpersonal

relationships:

Duncan says, 'That's always your problem - thinking people are playing

gameswith you.'

I cannotsee him, but I sensehe is down there: a dark, densefigure.

He is right aboutme though. (47)

Suchan explicit affirmation of a complex characterinsight is often not revealedso

lucidly in minimalism. Part of the reasonfor this is that the characteris unableor unwilling to make those types of insights. For Carver and especially Barthelme, charactersseems fundamentally estranged from their motivesand beliefs and barely understandtheir behaviourexcept for the momentof suddeninsight. Thesestories make motive an irrelevance; life is a game, and writing about it is 'game theory'.

Moreover, it is immanent in minimalist writing that the kind of simplistic emotional corollariessuch as 'a gamesdeveloper is like the gameshe plays' rarely appearso explicitly affirmed becauseminimalism relies upon ambiguity for effect. To resolve the motivesof the characterwould not be in keepingwith its determinationto hint, suggestor imply, especiallywhen that translationis so simplistic.

Cultural References The collection is littered with cultural references,most of which are titles or charactersfrom television programmesand the cinema,but also includethe namesof computer games, catchphrases and advertising slogans. In one sense,this augments 363 the minimalist tendencyto evoke the real world with fidelity and suchdetails certainly

locatethe narrativeswithin a specific time and place.As I havewritten in the

Barthelmechapter, culturally specific referencesrequire knowledgeof that culture to

makesense to the reader.It would appearthat even now, just four yearsafter this

collection was published,some of those referencesare lost. Indeed,one could imagine

that many of them would havemade little senseto someoneunfamiliar with British

popularculture at the time of publication.

I havedescribed the other function of the inclusion of cultural references,mostly through the useof brand-namesin Moon Deluxe, is to fulfil a symbolic function. But

this function seemsall but lost in the fiction of the New Puritans.Although its power to renderthe immediacyand cultural place of the stories is more acute,the power of them to sustaina symbolic power is all but lost. For example,what doesit meanthat

girl plays a computergame called 'Shenmue' (on the aforementioned'Dreamcast') or that they sit at the television to watch 'Neighbours from Hell'. The obvious answeris that, like Barthelme'sproduct references, they are attractiveto a contemporary

audiencewho understandsthem.

In severalstories, specific referencesto computersare made.Matthew Branton's

'Monkey See' begins with a detailed exposition of the creation of a list using software

suchas ClarisWorksand QuickTime. Tony White's 'Poct', describesin minute detail the useof word-processingsoftware to createa diagrammatictemplate for the writing

of hundredsof sonnets,the descriptionof which includesthe reprinting of the template.One explanationis that thesedetails are less importantin their specificity 364 than their generalimport. Thesestories acknowledge the hegemonyof other media suchas television and computersabove literature.

Certainly, the allusionswill quickly becomeas obscureas many find thoseof T. S.

Eliot's 'The WasteLand'. But unlike this poemthey servelittle purposeother than colour the world in which the narrative is set. One might arguethat Eliot's references were conservativein that they tried to 'improve' tile readerby askingthem to refer to a seriesof other texts in order to make senseof his work. New Puritans,on the other hand,use allusions that are readily accessibleand do not ask the readerto become more culturally sophisticatedin order to understandthem. It seemsthat with the recognitionthat their fiction - and the cultural referenceswhich populateit - are fleeting, then the referencesno have significant central function. It appearsas if the

New Puritan ideal recognisesthat it is ultimately ephemeral,destined to becomeless valued, if rememberedat all. This is explainedin the expandednotes to the manifesto.

Matt Thorneaddresses point three of the manifesto,which outlinestheir intention to: 4

[ ] 4D ' (x). doing ... move towardsnew openings,rupturing existing genreexpectations. In so, the group seem to accept that they, too, have a sell-by date which will render their collective unserviceable. It is part of their enterprise, to dissolve notions of a timeless

'literature' which serves to illuminate how far minimalism rejects or accepts notions of literary value. All Hail the Neiv Puritans is not merely a cautionary tale for how minimalism might end up if some of its central ambitions are not maintained. Rather, it is an illuminating example of how contemporary writers have interpreted the legacy of minimalism alongside other writings, in order to fashion it into something that represents a literature more suitable for expression of their everyday, using strategies, 365 vnethods and principles which might more accuratelycapture their contemporary world. This is, in turn, exactly what minimalism set out to do. 366

Part Three: A Future of Literary Alinimalism

Theseissues beg interestingquestions about minimalism. Re-phrascd,we might ask how far literary minimalism is the product of the literary world or rejectsthat world.

One suchresponse would be to assessthe impact of creativewriting programmeson minimalism specifically and on literature in general.I havetouched upon this in my study with a comparisonto Hemingway and Carver, using Aldridge's lament for natural 'genius', but a more comprehensivestudy of this could sheda greatdeal of light upon minimalism. Could thosewriting schoolsattended by Carver and

Barthelmebe responsiblefor a sea-changein writing styles,harking back to

Hemingway's aestheticbecause it was simply more practicable?One of the effects of engagingthe readerso completely in the creation of their work is to suggestthat the readerbelieves, at leaston the first reading,that minimalist literature might be easyto write. There is often a feeling in the readerof minimalism I havespoken to that 'I could write like that'. It is akin to the pejorativeclaim of modernand contemporary art that 'A child could havepainted that'.

I have noted the example of Carver suggesting he wrote short stories becausethis was all he had time for, betweenhisjob and picking up his children from school.The New

Puritandis-establishment of such MY conceptsas literary geniusmight be useful here: a notableliterature comesfrom hard work and study in formalisedclasses, woven into the fabric of people"severyday lives. It is not a higher function, reserved for only the most natural talent. 'Can minimalism be taughtT reworks the questionof whetherwriting can be taught. 367

The effectsof postmodernismon minimalism are of great interestto the scholarof modem and contemporaryAmerican literature. Severalwriters havetouched upon this, but thereare no full-length studieswhich survey the area.'Does minimalism reject or embracepostmodernismT is still a questionworth asking and might help explain the re-emergenceof minimalism in the latter part of the 20'hcentury.

Many scholarsand critics give a very short answerto the questionof the future of minimalism: minimalism,is 'dead' and so it is 'going' nowhere.In the article

'Digging the Graveof Literary Minimalism' published in the 1990s,Madison Smartt

Bell would have it that minimalism's time in the sun had alreadypassed. For some, the time of its dernisecannot come too soon.Minimalism is an avant-garde movement,one basedupon experimentation,a radical extensionof someof the most basictenets of short story methodology-concision, elision, suggestion-and as such tendsto draw the more extremereactions in thosethat read it.

lives Nevertheless, minimalism on. Those very people whom it was written for -the it it for it reader - continue to read and enjoy and many represents a literature NNIlich empowers them. It does not do so because it is didactic; in fact, it might be considered, following Hemingway's absent narrator, anti-didactic. Rather, it enables the readerto help themselvesbecause it hasa richnessthat is there to be explored.

Given the subsequentdearth of secondarymaterial, it still remainsan arealargely un- illuminated by devotedcritics.

I hope my study, which beganwith a love of this complex and paradoxicalliterature and developedinto an intenseinterest to attemptto explain its effects,helps to suggest 368

in ways which it might be read and enjoyed with a rcncwcd undcrstandingof its literary effects. 369

Appendix to Conclusion:

The New Puritan Manifesto

I. Primarily storytclicrs, wc arc dcdicatcdto the narrativc form.

2. We are prosewriters and rccogniscthat proseis the dominant form of expression.For this reasonwe shun poetry and poetic licence in all its forrns.

3. While acknowledgingthe value of genrefiction, whcthcr classical or modem,we will always move towardsnew openings,rupturing existing genreexpectations.

4. We believe in textual simplicity and vow to avoid all devicesof voice: rhetoric, authorial asides.

5. In the nameof clarity, we recognisethe importanceof tcrnporal linearity and eschewflashbacks, dual temporalnarratives and foreshadowing.

6. We believe in grammaticalpurity and avoid any elaborate punctuation.

7. We recognisethat publishedworks are also historical documents. As fragmentsof our time, all our texts are datedand set in tile presentday. All products,places, artists and objectsnamed are real.

8. As faithful representationsof the present,our texts will avoid all improbableor unknowablespeculation about the pastor the future.

9. We are moralists,so all texts featurea recognisableethical reality.

10. Nevertheless,our aim in integrity of expression,above and beyondall commitmentto form. 370

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