A. E. Coppard (1878–1957)

The Collected Tales of A E Coppard
(This is the Borzoi Books edition)
1948
532 pages

Having stumbled across the macabre little tale "Cheese," in a short story collection called "Night Side," by August Derleth, I decided to check out its author, A. E. Coppard. Though I'm not that well-read, by my own estimation- after all, I can't stand to read Shakespeare, for it always leaves me scratching my noggin- I tend to assume that if I haven't heard of authors of old, they must not be worth reading. I show more was again proved wrong after buying a used volume of Coppard's short stories called "The Collected Works of A. E. Coppard."
I love these omnibus-sized books. For one thing, I tend to think I've really gotten my money's worth. For another, the tome's size guarantees many hours of enjoyment- unless the writing stinks. As I leafed through the pages, I did notice something disconcerting- the stories are not in chronological order. I like to see how an author progresses, and with this collection that will not be possible. But as I started reading, I realized that, given Coppard's early mastery of the short story form, there'd not be much progression to observe.
Which brings me to the genius of this collection. Coppard evidently put together the stories in a certain order, and even if it was someone else's work, the sequence makes for a rich reading experience. But this aspect wasn't apparent until I'd read a few stories.
"The Higgler" (1925) starts things off with the story of a country merchant who falls in love with a young woman at one of his stops. The conflict that ensues is the opposite of that in "Ethan Frome." In this case, the protagonist is not married, but has to choose between two women, one being his fiancé. Though he marries, the tale has elements of tragedy amidst the morality play. The message is that it is best to trust one's gut instincts. And the story does not go where one expects, a first warning to me, as it will soon turn out. Also, we get a first taste of Coppard's gift for description and dialogue; the pictures he paints of simple folk and the way they speak not so simple, once one gets further into the story.
"The Cherry Tree" (1922) follows, concerning two small children and a gift they give to their mother. It is more upbeat than The Higgler. The tale is a touching mix of sadness and love and gratitude that uplifts.
"The Poor Man" (1923) is another merchant tale that covers the ups and downs of a man's life, over the span of fifteen years or so. He seems do the best he can, and does see some rewards for his efforts- yet, one by one, the things he loves start slipping from his grasp. It all ends tragically, and seems to say that while life is not fair, one must learn to cope, for sometimes that is the only choice left. The story has not one, but several heartbreaking moments, and leaves the reader feeling a bit depressed.
"The Ballet Girl" (1923) comes a breath of fresh air, after the dour "Poor Man," and demonstrates Coppard's talent for comedy. The delightful tale not only entertains, but holds a message for those who need a reason to get out of the rut they are currently in.
"Arabesque- The Mouse" (1921). By this time, I'm starting to become wary of the what's going to happen to Coppard's characters. Sunny days can suddenly become nightmarish, humor turns to cruelty, and the sure thing falls to dust. Will the protagonists survive the predicaments they're in? Or will their life become a shambles due to the brooding menace that seems to arise unexpectedly in their lives? This particular tales covers a lot of ground in seven pages: drama involving a mousetrap and its intended victim, a tender-but-strange encounter between a child and his nursing mother, a terrible accident, a brief love affair from the past, and another accident that parallels the first one. Aside from trying to understand what the story represents, one has to admire Coppard's ability to cover so much ground in such a brief number of pages, while encompassing so many shades of emotion.
"Alas, Poor Bollington" (1923) takes us back to comedy with a story about marital discord, with a belly laugh at the end.
"Dusky Ruth" (1921) may leave one scratching the cranium, but there's no denying the sad beauty of this depiction of the loneliness that two strangers can heal in each other- at least for a brief time. Haunting.
"The Old Venerable" (1926) is an example of the sudden turns a Coppard story can take. An old fellow who lives in a game preserve tries to maintain his lifestyle as caretaker of the woods- until a new warden appears, threatening his very existence. The old fellow makes some headway- for a while. Then forces combine to rob him of his present and his future. The shocking violence at story's end is devastating, a sign that this old man is going to do something even more drastic, once he leaves our view.
"Adam and Eve Pinch Me" (1921) is one of Coppard's most celebrated tales, and with good reason. The fantasy skirts religious territory without being preachy, and is a story rich in both mystery and delight.
"The Presser (1928)" offers a story told from a young boy's point of view. He's employed doing menial tasks at a tailor's workshop, and the things we see through his eyes are touching. It's also the story of the "presser," the fellow who irons all the clothing produced by the employees. As usual, one is never sure if tragedy is about to strike, which adds an element of suspense- for everyone in the tale seems at risk, from the little boy to the presser to the little girl and her kitten, the latter the boy accompanies to a coffee shop, where a fight eventually breaks out, leaving the reader wincing and fearful for the children. But for once, the main characters all escape to a better place- and without dying. In a way, the ending feels a bit contrived, maybe even satirical, as if the author can't come up with a happy ending without feeling a bit ashamed. But that's the beauty of this and similar tales- you can take things one of several ways.
"The Green Drake" (1931). And just when things were going so well. Here comes a tale that starts off in a bucolic setting, as a recently freed duck swims around a pond, enjoying his freedom. A fellow wanders by, then engages the drake in lengthy conversation, which is where the story crosses over to the realm of either fantasy or fable- before delivering another shocking ending. I'm starting to understand why Coppard was a fav of Derleth and Flannery O'Connor.
"Able Staple Disapproves" (1933) lighten the mood with some gallows humor- two men sitting in a pub, arguing about the best words to place in a wife's obituary. It's comedy from beginning to end, with a lot of excellent description added, for good measure.
"Purl and Plain" (1928) continues on the lighter side with a Protestant curate and Catholic priest stuck in a room together in a room, awaiting the birth of a child. It seems that the parents have decided to have the newborn baptized as a Catholic if it's a boy, a Protestant if it's a girl. The conversation that ensues as the two men try to find common ground is superb, and with no small measure of pathos and humor.
"A Broadsheet Ballad" (1922) finds two fellows sitting in a pub (a favorite scene location for Coppard), discussing a most unusual case- a fellow who gets two sisters pregnant, then gets charged with murder when one of the women dies from poisoning. But all is not as it seems, Coppard making the most of the twisty plot. It's dark comedy, subtle and unforgettable.
"Silver Circus" (1928) brings us back around to the macabre, in a tale that would have fit in well as an episode of "Alfred Hitchcock Presents." What starts out as absurdist humor- a man talked into dressing up as a tiger and fighting a real lion, in front of a circus audience- soon turns bizarre and then worse. The surprise ending is well-done, though very upsetting.
And I still have 23 stories to go! show less

A.E. Coppard born 1878 at Folkstone, Kent, the son of a tailor and a housemaid. Left school at the age of 9 to work as an errand boy for a Jewish trousers maker in Whitechapel during the period of the Ripper murders. There is no foundation for the rumor that he subsequently became a navvy and survived on raw cabbage; actually he worked as a clerk at Brighton and Oxford, and adopted professional sprinting as a hobby. At present, however, according to WHO'S WHO his recreation is 'resting.'