Where I’m Calling From is a masterpiece of short fiction, a collection of 37 stories by one of the most influential American writers of the 20th century, and my favourite author, Raymond Carver. The stories span his entire career, from his early works that explore the lives of ordinary people struggling with alcoholism, poverty, and loneliness, to his later works that show more hope and redemption. Carver’s style is minimalist, precise, and realistic, often using dialogue and details to reveal the emotions and conflicts of his characters. The stories deal with themes such as love, loss, addiction, family, and death, and often end with an epiphany or a twist. Some of the most famous stories in the book are “Cathedral”, “A Small, Good Thing”, and of course the devastating “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love.” If you are new to Carver, this is an excellent place to begin. If you are a lifelong fan, this is the perfect book to add to your collection. ( )

While I'd been dimly aware of him prior to his sadly premature death in 1988, I'd not read Raymond Carver at that time. Soon after his death, while browsing the late, lamented Book Cellar in downtown Brattleboro, Vermont, I picked up a couple of his books of short stories and a volume of his poetry. In the ensuing months, I would struggle to get through the stories, and more or less give up on the poetry.

Such was my first encounter with this author. About five years later, while an undergraduate, I noticed that many of my fellow students studying creative writing were much taken with Mr. Carver's stories, and even sought to emulate him. The following summer I located the books of his I owned and took another crack at them. Again, I struggled. Having been through the sets of stories I owned twice, and some of the poems the same number of times, I assumed I could safely pass them along to a local thrift store.

Now, more than 20 years later, a couple of weeks ago, I stumbled across the present volume. In that time, Raymond Carver's reputation grew, as posthumous reputations do. I had been dimly aware of a controversy involving Gordon Lish, Mr. Carver's editor, and his role in shaping these stories. Mr. Carver's widow, the poet Tess Gallagher, has played a role in this, but the whole business, in the end, failed to capture my interest.

Nor alas, despite my efforts, do Raymond Carver's stories capture my interest--or anything else. As above, this is the second or third time I've read some of the stories in this book, and their appeal still remains a mystery to me. I can't pretend to be objective about these stories, because I am not terribly interested in reading about people whose lives, for whatever reason, aren't working out.

I defer to more perspicacious critics on the genius of Raymond Carver, because I fail absolutely to see, understand, or appreciate it.

"Maxine said it was another tragedy in a long line of low-rent tragedies"

This is a quote from one of the 37 short stories featured in this collection and could summarise many of those stories. [Where I'm Calling from] was published in 1988 the year of Carver's death and features stories that appeared in magazines and earlier collections published between 1971 and 1987. The main subject of the stories is American suburban life, but one might also add alcoholism. Many have an unnerving feel of real life situations as characters fight or succumb to events that appear largely out of their control. They fight against taking another drink or succumb to having another shot, always looking over their shoulder, but never quite becoming destitute. Men cheat on their wives, on their girlfriends and occasionally the women fight back. It is a tawdry selection of subjects on which Carver has chosen to base his stories, but they are so well written and so convincing that they draw the reader in.

Carver appears to have been an alcoholic for much of his adult life, in the mid 1970's he claimed that he had given up writing and had taken to full time drinking. In his stories almost everyone drinks and as a good proportion of them are written in the first person they have an autobiographical feel to them. His characters are exceptionally well drawn and their dialogue hits the mark almost every-time. Couples argue and fight, cheat and deceive, pretend they do not see what is right in front of their eyes. They act like people in a TV soap opera, but are totally convincing. Some of the stories are mere snapshots of events in his characters lives, but have a lasting impression, there is often not a clear resolution and God forbid there should be happy ending.

Almost all the characters are white Americans, lower middle class or blue collar workers, none of them are out and out criminals, but often choose to act out of pure self interest or are dumbed down by the need to earn a living in a society that takes few prisoners. Mostly it is not a pretty picture and like people who suffer with alcoholism there appears to be an overlying trait of self deception. It is a sobering collection.

Carver when he was able, taught literature at colleges and was a guest lecturer as creative writing courses, but took on miscellaneous jobs when he needed. He states in the preface to this collection that his chosen medium was short stories and was interested in paring the stories down to precise images that reflected the real situations that he was depicting. How far he succeeded in this and how near he came to presenting a culture of a section of life in 1970's America will probably depend on each readers own experiences. Sexist and occasionally racist in accordance with the unenlightened 1970's but good short story writing that can be uncomfortable to read: 4 stars. ( )

Wow.

Miles Davis once said, when asked why he played such minimalist, modal melodies when his contemporaries were going for the more fevered, manic sound of be-bop, "I try to only play the notes that matter."

That's Raymond Carver. Sparse, deceptively simple, and capable of tearing your soul out by hitting the right notes, consistently, and with purity.

Some of these stories sometimes didn't even strike me as I read them. I'd put the book down, walk away, and hours later, not be able to shake the images. Other times, I'd read a line, and feel ashamed for my abuse of adjectives and hyperbole as a writer, right then and there. Carver cuts through it all, and delivers the literary version of "Kind of Blue" in the process. ( )