Friday, November 9, 2012

Raymond Carver's "Where I'm Calling From"

J.P. says he and Roxy began to have dingy reacts, physically battering each other: "But he kept on drinking. He couldn't stopover. And nothing could make him stop" (162). Roxy finds a boy lifter and J.P. finds expose round it. They fight and he cuts her wedding ring up. He loses his driver's license and his business concern: "He was here at Frank Martin's to dry out and to figure how to get his life back on go after" (163).

Then the narrator tells his own story. He has two granitelike relationships himself---with his wife and a girl friend. His girl friend is as well alcoholic. She brought him to the facility. J.P. was brought by Roxy's father and brother.

While J.P. and the narrator argon conference on the porch, Frank Martin comes out and tells a story well-nigh twat London, a macho-type writer. It is a lecture disguised as a story. Frank ends it by saying, "We could have fostered Jack London." Jack London died of alcoholism. "If he'd let us. If he'd asked for our help. Hear me? Like we can help you. If. If you ask and if you listen" (164).

The narrator is estranged from his wife, and his girl friend has not called since bringing him in. She might have cancer, but he doesn't want to know about it while he is in the facility. He hates her son, who is obviously rebellious.

As the narrator becomes more dreary he thinks more about reaching out to his wife or girl friend, but he has left such(prenominal) wrecked relationships with some(prenominal) of them that he is afraid to call.

The narrator tells about another man who is


Of course, "Paul's clandestine of secrets was his wooden horse" (971). Paul's mother says he is too giving for a rocking-horse, but the boy convinces her he merely wants it until he is old enough to get a real horse.

Cornelius is both grateful to Hergesell and at the same time deeply scandalise that another man could have such power in Ellie's life. Hergesell says a few compassionate, poetic and charming words to the curt girl, and she is "transfigured."

"There comes Max," says Ingrid.
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"Max, you sweep, what do you mean by rolling up at this time of day?" For such is the way they talk to each other, offensively to an older ear; of social forms, of kind warmth, there is no faintest trace (194-195).

The professor says "Nonsense," believing that his dear, sweet, civilized little daughter, unlike his son, would never make such a fuss and disturb others around her.

Young Hergesell leans over the disallow of the crib and rattles on, more for the father's ears than the child's, but Ellie does not know that---and the father's feelings towards him are a most singular mixture of thankfulness, embarrassment, and hatred (212).

How advanced . . . that she breathes in oblivion with every breath she draws! That in childhood each night is a deep wide disconnect between one day and the next. Tomorrow, beyond all doubt, adolescent Hergesell give be a pale shadow, powerless to darken her little heart. Tomorrow, forgetful of all but present joy, she leave behind walk with Abel and Snapper, all five gentlemen, round and round the table, will play the ever-thrilling cushion game. Heaven be praised for that! (212-213).


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