I visited an old friend recently – John Gardner’s Nickel Mountain. I’ve been growing old waiting for the Gardner revival (the deceased literary novelist not likely to be confused with the living spy novelist John Gardner, although it bears mentioning), and was pleased to see October Light come b...
"What moves us is not just that characters, images, and events get some form of recapitulations or recall: We are moved by the increasing connectedness of things, ultimately a connectedness of values."John Gardner was perhaps as well known (if not more so) for his instruction on writing as for hi...
Brother versus sister. James is in his '70s in the 1970s (have I ever shared my theory about guys who were hot in the '70s? The theory is that they are not hot any longer. D'oh! I'm trying to be a sane goodreader now). Sally has run out of money in her eighties (she'd be rich again in the '80s if...
This book is definitely a reader's book, or maybe a writer's book? I'm never really sure what the difference is, but either way it's a tome that really pushes you to focus on what you're reading as there are quite a few heavy philosophical arguments and references within the novel, and it pushes ...
"The first collection in seven years from one of America's most celebrated and admired writers--ten wonderful short (and long) stories that allow us to explore and enjoy once again the many facets of John Gardner's unique fictional world. Here are enchanting tales about queens and kings and princ...
This is a retelling of the myth of Jason and Medea written by a modern writer for modern readers. Gardner makes a point in the beginning of pointing out that while the narrative structure of the story in poem format is similar to classic epics, the language is mostly modern. This version of the...
Four fairy tales featuring a stupid coppersmith's son, a witch unhappy in her profession, a gnome with power to change things, and a fat, bespectacled Jewish boy who hopes to marry a princess.
Reprint of the 1st ed. published by Knopf, New York.
The good writer sees things sharply, vividly, accurately, and selectively (that is, he chooses what’s important), not necessarily because his power of observation is by nature more acute than that of other people (though by practice it becomes so), but because he cares about seeing things clearly...
If the answer S yes, I’ll see he’s brought back.” “Let me know before take-off. You only have twenty minutes.” It took Bond fifteen minutes to make contact. Yes, they had an interrogation specialist with the unlikely name, for his skills, of Donald Speaker who would be delighted to have a go. So ...
Even at the last moment he could have prevented his brother’s death by slamming on the tractor brakes, easily in reach for all the shortness of his legs; but he was unable to think, or, rather, thought unclearly, and so watched it happen, as he would again and again watch it happen in his mind, w...
The camera closed in on particular people, and Herbie muttered something about high-powered talent. He recognized faces of men and women he had not seen for years. People he thought long dead. The Chief of the Secret Intelligence Service was there, of course, as was the Director General of the Se...
Tommy’s teaching on pauses was that you could elicit an answer to an unasked question by just saying nothing, pausing for longer that usual. He also said you should watch the suspect’s hands: Tension or movement in the hands often reveals more than the answers to your questions. That was one of L...
The result was that he had a great many friends, and wherever he went there was usually peace and quiet, at least for a while. One day the young man was walking in the woods, and he came upon a hummingbird lying on its back, kicking its legs and peeping as if fit to be tied. “Perhaps it has hurt ...
Dis, l’âme est immortelle? —Paul Verlaine 1 “Ben,” Vanessa Hodge said when he came in for supper, “you’ve got to do something. I still can’t get hold of Millie. No one’s seen her. And I can’t get Will either, he hasn’t been in to the office since Sunday. I can’t even get hold of Luke. Something m...
What thistle girls did for a living—that is, what people did with thistles—is no longer known, but whatever the reason that people gathered thistles, she was one of those who did it. All day long, from well before sunrise until long after sunset, she wandered the countryside gathering thistles, p...
Sitting on the edge of the bunk she began to slide her stockings—Ballito Laceline—over neat calves and miraculous thighs. She looked down at Boysie who was far away, deep in unconscious Freudian exercises. The cabin walls shuddered to the steady thud of the ship’s great single reduction geared tu...
Urgently. Worse, the nuns seemed to be blessed with second sight. As she was organising transport – Tommy had to be at the Yard all day, ‘Dealing with bloody Berry,’ he said ominously – when Billy Mulligan came on the line. ‘Message for you, ma’am.’ The ‘ma’am’ sounded heavily laced with friendly...
He heard Pam first telling him about the attempted deal with Heller over the missiles, and the colonel’s final rejection of the plan; his sight of Heller with the deadly things on the fork-lift truck; then Heller stapled to the wall in the Temple, the missiles gone . . .Missile gone . . . ! Missi...
It’s one thing to listen, full of scorn and doubt, to poets’ versions of time past and visions of time to come; it’s another to know, as coldly and simply as my mother knows her pile of bones, what is. Whatever I may have understood or misunderstood in the dragon’s talk, something much deeper sta...
Both The General and Giles had approved her looks, clear skin, and sparkling personality. Neither of them had ever seen her in a mood that matched her hair, for Bridget’s black moods came upon her like a violent summer storm – all crash and lightning. The blackness was upon her now, as she sat at...