On Raymond Carver

I took my first creative writing class the fall semester of my senior year at Vanderbilt. My teacher was a young guy, probably a year or two younger than I am now. One of the stories we read for class was Raymond Carver's "Cathedral". I don't remember what I thought about the story at the time, but when I came across it about six years later, I immediately remembered reading it. There was something so profound to the narrative that even now, 14 published short stories under my belt, I still cannot describe what I felt...what I still feel.

Like with Vonnegut, I have read all of Carver's short stories and poetry. The latter is especially poignant, as it shows Carver's command of two different mediums. Yet unlike Vonnegut, I find it easier to return to Carver's work. Rereading his short stories do not carry the tinge of regret that occurs when I pick up Vonnegut. Maybe that speaks to Carver's writing, or the age at which I began reading his work. I'm not sure.

It's taken me over a week to realize how Carver affected me as a writer. I first noticed that many of my stories, like his, take place within a few hours, a half day at most. Yet within that little moment of time is the most important of the protagonist's life. And like with most important moments, it's impossible to describe what that moment really means. It's something that everyone has either felt, or at least recognized in someone else. Yet when it comes to describing what 'it' is...it's impossible. Carver's genius, in my opinion, was letting us witness these moments over and over again in his work. Life affirming, they speak to our shared humanity.