Saturday, October 11, 2008
Ask Raymond Carver
Sometimes you have an inkling of something, a whisper of what is to come and you try to ignore it, the way you ignore a hangover or the coldness in a friend's voice when the relationship is strained. One of the most protracted romantic break-ups I ever had started at Raymond Carver's grave, a situation Carver himself would have appreciated. The voice at the grave spoke in short, declarative sentences (okay, I made that up but still) and told me that a window was closing in on the life I had known.
Carver insisted that he was listed first as a poet on his gravestone which I like -- his poetry in my mind is as easily as good as his short stories. I thought a lot about his life as I sat there, weeping at an ending that was to come. Of course, lots of people cry at graves. I could pass it off as general sadness and did. As a Catholic, I talk a lot to dead people (in all honesty, I did this before I converted). Sometimes I still talk to Carver and ask his advice. He's no Dear Abby, not by a long shot. He made some pretty shitty decisions in his day. I like that in a man. But where he ended up is magnificent -- right on the ocean with beauty all around, a place where you can hear yourself think if you desire.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"It's a rare person who wants to hear what he doesn't want to hear." Dick Cavett
Drinking Halloween movie suggestion: Misery
Benedictions and Maledictions