[Ahead of my annual
trip to Charlottesville with my sons, a trip that always features a good
deal of swimming
pool action, a series on pools and swimming in American history and
culture. Leading up to a special weekend post highlighting one of my favorite
pieces I’ve had the chance to write in the last year!]
On the pitch-perfect story from one of our true American greats.
There’s only so much room in our collective consciousness, and within that
space there’s similarly only so much room for creative writing—which is to say,
I understand that not every deserving author is going to be remembered. And I
certainly get why John Cheever has largely
vanished from our collective memories—like his contemporary John Updike (who similarly
is less well-known than he was a few decades ago, although the shift has not
been as dramatic in Updike’s case), Cheever tended to write stories about
middle to upper-middle class men and families, characters whose identities and
communities don’t seem quite multi-cultural enough, nor their problems
significant enough, for our 21st century moment.
There would be various ways to push back on those ideas, to argue that our
literary canon can and should contain Cheever and Jhumpa Lahiri, and as many
other voices as possible. But the simplest and most vital argument might be
this: like Lahiri, Cheever was quite simply a master of the short story;
there’s no experience quite like reading a perfect short story, and Cheever
produced at least a few works that make it into that exclusive category. One of
his very best also happens to fit this week’s series perfectly; it’s called “The Swimmer” (1964), and it’s
about … no, enough from me. Just read it at that link, and lose yourself in the
deceptively shallow waters of Cheever’s funny yet tragic, satirical yet
sympathetic tale.
You know what? There’s not only so much room in our collective
consciousness, not in this 21st century world of digital archives
and virtual classrooms and ever-expanding conversations. If we can work to
remember any great writing, we can work to remember all of it—and Cheever and
his story are a pretty good place to start.
Next pool
tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What do you
think?
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