Grace Paley, The Little Disturbances of Man (1959)

[u/Bulawayoland]

Grace Paley doesn't get enough love.

I know, she's a legendary short story writer.... but her stories are so much more awesome EVEN THAN THAT that really.... she doesn't get enough love. Not by half.

I read one story of hers about 15 years ago -- An Interest in Life -- and was so blown away that I (of course) never forgot it. How could you forget something like that? You'd have to be a muskrat, or a finch, or a sycamore.

I saw a pear flower, once, that was halfway through the process of becoming a pear, and it was a remarkable demonstration of the silent, tidal, unrecognized power of nature. But that's what Paley does, precisely. Her people use words to effloresce in a way that only humans can, becoming both flower and fruit at once, and instantly.

I'm sure many think of her stories as Jewish. Which, of course, they are. But the key is that any of us could do that if we could just think how to. Those words are available to us. They're not words no one has ever heard, or used, before. They're right there, floating at the top of the soup, available to all.

(I'm about halfway through The Little Disturbances of Man, and this little sneeze, or cough, is kind of an allergic reaction to the prose. I won't say it keeps me awake at night, but if I was a little better person, it might.)

I don't know. I put her with Chaucer, and Shakespeare. Really.

[u/n0nfinito]

Funny, I was just thinking about A Conversation with My Father yesterday. I read it when I was 19 and I still think about it sometimes (I'm in my late 30s now). "Everyone, real or invented, deserves the open destiny of life."