Here’s how my mind works: Garrison Keillor was doing the Writer’s Almanac and he read a poem in which he mentioned “terraces.” And, somehow, I found myself thinking about the Alice Adams’ novel, Superior Women, in which two lovers have breakfast on a terrace.
I love Alice Adams, who died a few years ago, but I’ve always been mildly, happily mystified by her ability to slip the bonds of “women’s novelist.” Her work has many of the hallmarks associated with that genre — glamorous cities, people with glamorous jobs, lots of adultery. And it dwells at length on real estate, homes and possessions. I can’t remember the name of the novel about the two mismatched lovers, but I remember clearly how he transformed her apartment.
But Adams’ prose is so good and her insight so sophisticated that no one faulted her for the porny lifestyle details. (Were there berries in brown sugar served on the terrace? Family china? I think so. I no longer own Superior Women.) I just cheated, walked over to the bookcase and found Almost Perfect, the book whose title I was groping for, and it all but fell open to the chapter where Richard has redone Stella’s apartment:
“[S]he cannot believe the transformation of her apartment . . . It is large and fairly bare, with huge wide windows, giving onto the deep-green, ferny Presidio woods. Where there were walls, now only a few supporting pillars remain, all painted a rich high-gloss dark brown. The floors have been stripped down to beautiful plain planks. In a far corner Stella sees her old bed, now discreetly covered in something thick and brown, and here and there about the room she recognizes objects that are hers: some wooden chairs, a small marble-topped table. But the long broad gray soft leather sofa — she never saw that before, nor the rich scatter of small Oriental rugs . . . It is a beautiful room; Stella can barely connect it with herself . . . “
Adams’ short stories were chosen for the O’Henry anthologies 20 times, according to the biography on Almost Perfect. As I said, I quite admire her. But I can imagine that passage, with its repetition of “beautiful,” being used to damn a lesser writer.
Me, I love knowing what kind of china is on people’s tables. Lightning round — what kind of dishes are on Tess Monaghan’s table? First person to post in the comments section gets an ARC of Another Thing to Fall.
Tess has http://www.christinespolishpottery.com/SSCN40.JPG
Hmmmm. That’s not what I was thinking of, but if you find a cite in the books that supports this, the ARC is yours. Certainly, I can imagine Tess having those dishes.
(I am thinking specifically of Tess’s “every day” dishes, which were mentioned in passing in No Good Deeds . . . )
This may not be (probably is not) right but Pottery Barn comes to mind…
“…..a mismatched collection of state commemoratives culled from flea markets and yard sales. “
Send me your address, June, and you get an ARC. (I know, I know — I’ve been to your house, but I no longer have the address. By the way, how close is Syd to 10,000?)
Folks, we have a winner. Meanwhile, apologies for being a little too inside-baseball, but I’ve known June for years and once wrote a piece about her husband, Syd, who decided to keep track of the books he read, in hopes of reaching 10,000. Now, just to give that number some perspective — even if you can read a book a day — hello, Sarah Weinman! — you would need more than 27 years to do this. Plus, you have to have the foresight, as Syd did, to start keeping a record very young.
I’m very proud to be on Syd’s list, but mainly proud that I know him.
Wow, I only have 1122 on my list. I did lose everything from 1974-1987, but I think it was only around 300 titles. They were entered on my first computer, the Adam, which crashed before I got a print-out, and I hadn’t saved all the papers once they were in the computer. Sigh …
I didn’t even check to see if someone had already answered!
It’s Fiesta Ware, isn’t it?
I had a long day working the election yesterday(YES, DONNA EDWARDS- finally my congresswoman). I didn’t read clearly enough- it did seem too easy to win a prize for just suggesting nice dishes for Tess. I do see commemorative dishes at the thrift store(50% off day coming up on Monday) everytime and wonder who actually bought them as a souvenir. Maybe someday I will use my Charles and Diana mug!
The winner came so fast I was saved from embarrassing myself with Melmac. Tess is not too young to have inherited her mother’s Melmac collection which of course in non-biodegradable, non-perishable, guaranteed to withstand a direct hit with a nuclear weapon. I wonder who got Mom’s set.
I didn’t need to win. I got my ARC of Another Thing to Fall at the American Library Association winter gig in Philadelphia. Loved it–great Baltimore, Great Lloyd, cool Whitney.
Good stuff.
Ohhhhh, I thought it was Fiesta Ware!
Oh, well. Next time.
I loved Alice Adams and I am so sad that the writers of my youth are disappearing. She was lyrical and practical at the same time.
That’s a lovely description, Patti. I, too, am afraid that she’s been forgotten since her death. I also worry about Laurie Colwin, who also dwelled on household details, albeit in a more romantic, lush way. Her stories always felt like fairy tales to me. (I always wanted to meet someone who would feel about me the way Vincent felt about Misty Berkowitz.)
Do not worry. Weekly I see 1-5 references to her in book reviews and elsewhere, mostly newspaper websites, every week. I know her cousin so her passing took on a personal connection. 5 years ago, Jonathon Yardley said all books were still in print. http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A55809-2003Jul1.html
I’m guessing she had no idea how important her writing was and would be.
Thanks, Bella. (Are you “the” Bella of literary blogging? No need to answer, but you’re clearly knowledgeable about book reviews.)
I love that Yardley feature. I also am an ardent admirer of his biography of Frederick Exley. In interest of full disclosure, we lived only a few blocks away from each other in the 1990s and once had lunch together at Alonso’s, back when it was still Alonso’s. That is to say — a dark, dim place with over-size hamburgers and a popular sandwich known as the “Fish Thing.”
Sorry, not the same Bella, but a speedy reader and a devoted hunter of interesting info.
“Alonso’s, back when it was still Alonso’s”
What? Alonso’s isn’t still Alonso’s?
It’s light and airy and serves risotto. All good things in a restaurant, but I have to restrain my sobs every time I walk by.
Welcome, Bella. Always nice to meet another Colwin fan.
We were just speaking about Laurie Colwin last night. A friend had tried nearly all of her recipes. But I mostly just loved her fiction. Happy All the Time, in particular.
Patti,
When I was teaching at Goucher, I sometimes had the students read the two short stories that form the spine of Happy All The Time. (The Girl with the Harlequin Glasses is, I think, one of them.) It’s an interesting contrast. Happy All the Time provided me with much of the background I was keen to have, but I also love the two stories.
And I am crazy about Another Marvelous Thing, that rare collection of linked stories that really does add up to something more than, well, a set of linked stories. The last story is one of the most melancholy things I’ve ever read. (The collection charts an adulterous affair from which the two participants managed to extricate themselves without hurting anyone — but themselves.) In fact, the last three stories, written about the aftermath of the break-up, are my favorites.
My only problem with Colwin’s work is that so many of the characters don’t have to worry about money. I don’t begrudge them their beautiful apartments and possessions, but I wouldn’t mind if they had to worry, now and then, about how they were going to pay for their next great piece of crockery.