A Small, Good Thing

by Raymond Carver

A Small, Good Thing is an award winning short story by American author Raymond Carver. It was included in the story collection Cathedral, published in 1983.

Genres: Short Stories, Fiction, Classics, American, 20th Century, School, Read For School

30 pages

First published January 1, 1981

About the author

Carver was born into a poverty-stricken family at the tail-end of the Depression. He married at 19, started a series of menial jobs and his own career of 'full-time drinking as a serious pursuit', a career that would eventually kill him. Constantly struggling to support his wife and family, Carver enrolled in a writing programme under author John Gardner in 1958. He saw this opportunity as a turning point.

Rejecting the more experimental fiction of the 60s and 70s, he pioneered a precisionist realism reinventing the American short story during the eighties, heading the line of so-called 'dirty realists' or 'K-mart realists'. Set in trailer parks and shopping malls, they are stories of banal lives that turn on a seemingly insignificant detail. Carver writes with meticulous economy, suddenly bringing a life into focus in a similar way to the paintings of Edward Hopper. As well as being a master of the short story, he was an accomplished poet publishing several highly acclaimed volumes.

After the 'line of demarcation' in Carver's life - 2 June 1977, the day he stopped drinking - his stories become increasingly more redemptive and expansive. Alcohol had eventually shattered his health, his work and his family - his first marriage effectively ending in 1978. He finally married his long-term parter Tess Gallagher (they met ten years earlier at a writers' conference in Dallas) in Reno, Nevada, less than two months before he eventually lost his fight with cancer.

Reviews

[Ilse · Rating 5 out of 5]

They both stared out at the parking lot. They didn't say anything. But they seemed to feel each other's insides now, as though the worry had made them transparent in a perfectly natural way.



As soon as I started reading A Small Good Thing and recognized Ann Weiss at the bakery ordering the birthday cake decorated with a space ship for her son Scotty for next Monday morning, I realised I had read this story before - and even if I didn't want to continue because I was all too aware of what was coming, I was lost anyway, my memory hastening toward bringing it all back - the car accident, the hospital, the impotence of the doctors, the parents, the hard-working, purposeful baker, the phone calls. The begging for and make-believe reassurance, ever weaker, ever less confident, that everything will be fine and the child ok.

Yes, it is a heart-breaking story. Yes, it is even worse so the second time around.

A Small Good Thing is a powerful story touching on the fragility of life, cutting deep into the devastation of fear, guilt, grief, helplessness, pain and loneliness, showing how a shared experience of the sense of loss nevertheless connects people, ultimately thawing in some comfort coming in the shape of a simple, kind gesture that soothes the anger and the numbing pain, if only for a short time, on a moment the world seems to stand still, in a way that reminded me of the poem of Joy Harjo:

Perhaps the World Ends Here

The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.

The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.

We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.

It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.

At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.

Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.

This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.

Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.

We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.

At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.

Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.



You can read the story here.

[Adina · Rating 4 out of 5]

read with the Short Story Club

A terribly sad story about the death of a child as a result of a car accident who took place around his birthday. It was hard to read and I sometimes wonder why I put myself through this. Some of the characters reactions felt odd, specially the ones of the baker.

[Gaurav Sagar · Rating 4 out of 5]

Human beings are a sea of emotions, in way that there are numerous feelings and sensations which are intermingled deep down in that sea. Of course, on the surface it might come across as a still layer with muddy top, from which one can’t see what lies below the outward appearance. It requires the expertise of a deep diver who may swim through the opaque surface, to the great depths of that soup of emotions, to churn out the perfect sensations of humankind, and the most profound of human emotions which are grief and joy.


We may have unraveled so many secrets of our existence, might have understood quite a few enigmas of our universe but we often find ourselves at bay when it comes to comprehending human emotions. And perhaps that’s why those who write about the puzzling and inexplicable emotions, have a special regard in our heart; and probably because of that the stories which may portray human emotions, the way we behave under their grip, are regarded as tremendously rich, One Small, Good Thing sits at the epitome of such stories.



link: source

We, human beings, could we share our emotions with each other, and of all emotions, how do we deal with grief and sadness? At times, we want to be alone in our sacred and personal space while dealing with grief, for we feel a weird sense relating to our self or psyche as if our sadness or grief is something very personal, and often it gives a sort of contentment as if joy and grief are manifestations of similar human emotions (as experts put it). Besides, we usually feel ourselves incapable of sharing out grief with the other, and also an inherent fear, that others are not capable to understand ourselves, stops us from being open to others, and an ardent hollowness fills our soul thereby creating a sense of disconnect among us- the humans.


The feeling of disconnect from others fills us with a profound sensation of solitude and loneliness as if we are inherently on our own and have to deal with our situation individually. However, as this sensation grows stronger, the humanity rises from the dungeons of overwhelming loneliness and manifests itself in the form of longing to communicate with others, to look for people who may have been going through similar sort of sadness or grief and thereby to communicate with them to establish a bond through emotions and construct a super consciousness.


The question arises here that could we really communicate through grief? Are we really capable of conveying our sadness, would we not be haunted by our demons of shame and hesitation, well it is the central theme of the story. It reminds me of The Body Artist by Don DeLillo that I read a few years ago as it is about how humanity deals with grief but, I guess, the treatment is different since Don DeLillo writes a harrowing tale of how do we manage our sadness which sends a shiver through your spine, while the treatment ofRaymond Carver is more subtle and humane in the sense that we find solace through our natural longing of connecting with others.


The narrative of the story also pulls the reader into it in a way that the reader could not escape from the natural tendency of human beings to become associated with the people sharing their grief in the life. The reader who starts the story as an indifferent observer unable to empathize with the characters of the story, develops a strong bond with the same characters after going through the story of their tragedy, thereby feeling an immense sensation of sadness as if the reader is going through his personal loss and eventually pouring out the emotions of empathy towards the characters and perhaps that’s what makes him alive and humane.


The story touches upon one more fascinating aspect of humanity and that is to muster all the courage in the world to accept the reality as it is, we see that here the story differs from The Body Artist since there the protagonist could handle the reality the way it is and thereby develops her own reality. The humane treatment of the author, that we may be brave enough to accept the reality despite all and endorse the fact the life goes on no matter what, spreads a sense of optimism despite the story dealing with the melancholy of human life.
.



link: source

[Cecily · Rating 5 out of 5]

The title is mundane, almost meaningless, and forgettable. The opening sentence is unremarkable, unenticing, and bordering on the dull:
“Saturday afternoon she drove to the bakery in the shopping center.”
And yet those eleven words instantly flooded my mind with memories of prior readings. And feelings, lots of feelings.

Carver doesn’t write fancy prose about fancy people, but in this story he demonstrates the power of plain and deceptively simple wordcraft. It is a craft; that’s why you have playwrights, rather than playwrites. This apparently very plain and simple language is draped over a finely-crafted narrative arc.

The PDF I’ve linked to below is 13 pages. Before the end of the first page, it’s gone from the routine purchase of a child’s birthday cake from a grumpy baker, to a shocking accident, and miraculous survival. The other dozen pages… You need to read it and feel it. There’s a lot of ordinary horror, hanging around, and agonising consequences of understandable but misplaced anger.

“‘Don't have children,’ she told the girl's image as she entered the front door of the hospital. ‘For God's sake, don't.’”

Peace and understanding, to some extent, come from breaking and sharing bread.


Image: Iced cinnamon rolls. (Source)

See also

• There is a shorter version of this story, titled The Bath, which you can read can read HERE. It was included in the Carver collection, What We Talk about When We Talk about Love, which I reviewed HERE. They are all heavily edited.

• The Bath vs A Small, Good Thing: The Bath stops suddenly, and much sooner, which is both more unsettling and arguably less satisfying - certainly for the baker. It is more of a gut-punch, but I think the longer version has a more impressive story arc, and an ending that transforms it into something truly profound.

• Carver’s preferred versions of the stories, including the one I’ve reviewed above, were published, years later, in the collection Beginners, which I reviewed HERE.

• This story is one of several Carver stories compiled in Robert Altman's 1993 film, Short Cuts.

• I’ve also reviewed the title story of the collection, Cathedral, HERE.

Short story club

I reread this as one of the stories in The Art of the Short Story, by Dana Gioia, from which I'm aiming to read one story a week with The Short Story Club, starting 2 May 2022.

You can read this story here.

You can join the group here.

[Olga · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Short Story Club

What a heartbreaking chronicle of a loss! It hurt to read it and it would have remained a story about a tragic event we all hope will never happen to us. However, its completely unexpected ending gives us a new, utterly different perspective. That at the time when we need it most, at the most dreadful hour we will not be left alone with our grief. Sometimes help comes from the most unlikely person. And sometimes, 'a small good thing' like a warm roll, a cup of coffee and a conversation with a stranger is enough.

[Carol · Rating 3 out of 5]

Short. Sad.

Fear and anguish fill the pages for parents of an injured young boy with understanding and comfort offered from an unlikely source in the end.

Freebie.

[PattyMacDotComma]

5★
“The baker was not jolly. There were no pleasantries between them, just the minimum exchange of words, the necessary information. He made her feel uncomfortable, and she didn't like that.”

She had spent a fair amount of time poring over the baker’s pictures of cakes, deciding what to order for her son’s eighth birthday. She’d chosen a chocolate one with a planet plus a rocket ship with Scotty’s name on it.

The baker wasn’t in any hurry and seemed happy enough for her take as long as she liked deciding what she wanted, but he didn’t seem particularly interested or helpful – just patient. Perhaps she expected more enthusiasm for a child’s birthday cake, although he’d said he’d never had children of his own. Parents can be like that – expecting everyone to be as excited about their children as they are.

Then – a sudden accident on Monday morning, and instead of picking up the cake for Scotty’s birthday, the parents are on watch in the hospital as Scotty remains asleep.

“Of course, the birthday party was canceled. The child was in the hospital with a mild concussion and suffering from shock. There'd been vomiting, and his lungs had taken in fluid which needed pumping out that afternoon. Now he simply seemed to be in a very deep sleep-but no coma, Dr. Francis had emphasized, no coma, when he saw the alarm in the parents' eyes.”

With that reassurance, the father goes home to freshen up briefly, but he finds himself sitting in the driveway, thinking about how smoothly his life had gone, happily avoiding the crises that seemed to afflict other people. He tries to sort out his feelings

“His left leg began to tremble. He sat in the car for a minute and tried to deal with the present situation in a rational manner. Scotty had been hit by a car and was in the hospital, but he was going to be all right. Howard closed his eyes and ran his hand over his face.”

A child unconscious – parents beside themselves with worry – that feeling that you can’t leave the bedside because something might happen while you’re gone. Superstition and fear rise to the highest levels.

“But he's all right, believe me, except for the hairline fracture of the skull. He does have that.”

There’s another family waiting whose boy is being operated on, and Ann realises she is not the only mother -their son sounds as if he’s in worse condition than Scotty.

Told simply, in an uncomplicated manner with attention to very small details, it plays on our nerves as it does on the parents’. Each time I read it, I notice how Carver has used these details to round out the characters and their relationships.

You can download a PDF of this story from https://www.sevanoland.com/uploads/1/...

This is another good read from the Goodreads Short Story Club which you can join and then follow the discussions for each story. There’s no requirement to participate, but the conversations are always interesting.

The Short Story Club

[Kathleen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Read this brilliant story before reading any reviews:
https://www.sevanoland.com/uploads/1/...

My thoughts won’t really be spoilers, but more than you should know before going in.

I’ve seen and read lots of stories about what it’s like to go through the crisis of a loved-one in the hospital in grave danger, but this is the best. THE BEST. It’s the best to me because it captures things that you feel only when going through that time: that awareness that the world is turning normally for everyone else while you are stuck in some kind of limbo. But a warning: it takes you through step by agonizing step.

So much was exactly what I remember experiencing in a similar situation:
“…the only words that came out were the sort of words used on TV shows…”

But in that limbo state, you become intensely sensitive, and previously ignored opportunities for connection open up.

“She wanted to talk more with these people who were in the same kind of waiting she was in. She was afraid, and they were afraid.”

In this story, such a connection, an unlikely and surprising connection, is explored.

Absolutely brilliant.

[Connie G · Rating 3 out of 5]

An eight-year-old boy is hit by a car on his eighth birthday. The joy of the anticipated celebration of his birth is contrasted with the threat of death hanging over him in the hospital. The story explores themes of loss, loneliness, communion, and connection.

While most of the writing was excellent, I had a sense of disbelief in the dialogue during a phone call from the baker to the wife. I also couldn't believe that it took so long for the doctor to call in a consultant. So my 3-star rating reflects my mixed reaction to the story.

[Bianca thinksGRsucksnow · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a powerful short story from one of the most well known short story writers.

A Small, Good Thing is a relatively simple story, about ordinary parents, an accident and the worst thing that could happen to a parent.

This is the most straightforward, realistic type of writing you'll come across. It works well when it comes to short stories. Sometimes, less is more.

Read it here: https://www.sevanoland.com/uploads/1/...

[Candace · Rating 2 out of 5]

I did not like reading about a child’s death. But I continued with it because I am reading every story in The Art of the Short Story. If that had been all I did not like about it, I would have not rated it. However, I found the baker’s phone calls unrealistic and creepy. I would not sit down with the baker in this situation and have a snack with him, and it’s hard for me to imagine a grieving parent doing this— making this story ring “untrue” to me.

[George Ilsley · Rating 5 out of 5]

There was an enormous oven. A radio was playing country-western music.

The language here is simple and straightforward, no fancy flourishes, no literary conceits, no gimmicks or tricks. The prose is carved into its essence.

The story opens with the baker letting Ann Weiss talk, as she orders a cake for her son's eighth birthday. At the end of the story, it is Ann and her husband who let the baker talk, and listened to him as "they swallowed the dark bread."

A wonderful story from a masterful writer.

[Chantel · Rating 3 out of 5]

It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the book's subject matters & those detailed in my review overwhelming. I suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters that contain reflections on grief, the death of a child, violent crime, & others.

The author bids the reader enter; the story begins with the suspicion of joy, icing, the frosted base of burning candles, the hum of a yearly tune, whipped eggs & flour to form the masterpiece on which the wish is cast. Somewhere a young boy wanders greedily gulping the syrup of a young life. Across town, the burdened hands of age serrate the edges of the central system that folds to the whim of disappointments.

In essence, this is a story about grief. The young boy, Scotty, is on the cusp of celebrating his birthday when he is hit by a car & dies as a result of his injuries. Scotty’s parents spend days in the hospital beside him, waiting for him to wake up from his misdiagnosed coma. Across town, the aged hands of disappointment, those of the Baker, rumble onward in endless folds & mixing of ingredients to produce what Scotty’s parents have forgotten—his birthday cake.

Though symbolism is in the pliers of life stripped & baked, the characters interact very little. Their scenes explore monologues that speak to an invisible set of eyes, almost as though the author were hoping that the monstrous beast that feeds on the reader’s own heart may be quieted by his words.

I read this story having forgotten that I know Carver. We are not friends, nor have I explored his library of trophies boasting of accomplishments I have yet to see with my own eyes. Yet, I know him well. You see, I had forgotten him after our first meeting. This was not done intentionally. I suppose that the first exposure I had to his mismatched style of writing via “Cathedral” (1981) left me feeling upset; I was cheated out of the poised delight of malicious torment of which the story told nothing, waiting always for the turn & rapture that never came. As I selected the story of the week, I found myself mystified by Carver’s name; Had we met before?

It seems rather silly to recount my lapse in memory. You may wonder why & how I could have forgotten such a prolific writer. I would not have a clear answer for you yet, I can describe the realization as slow & brooding. In this story, I found much of what annoyed me in “Cathedral” (1981). The characters were charming & fully fleshed out; these were people whose homes I walked into as they cried & whose child I saw dying in a cold hospital bed. Yet, Carver’s writing teased me. Was I to meet a dreadful turn of events or were the tales of sorrow to be wrapped up in a quirky enjoyable fashion?

Readers who are familiar with Carver’s writing style will understand me & I hope, sympathize with my plight. As I read, I found my frustration blooming. The nature of the dread that was mounting led me to become flummoxed by my emotional reaction.

Why was I annoyed at the screaming nature of Scotty’s mother as she picked up the phone to banal greetings? Why was I disappointed that Scotty’s father believed the doctors? Why was I aggravated that a series of doctors misdiagnosed a child who was surely going to die? I felt these things because Carver’s writing warmed the periphery of my mind, allowing me to forgo my tertiary perspective, & soothing me into the very story I sought to critique.

The plot, though straightforward, will feel to readers as engaging as a story told to them by a dear friend. Scotty is hardly present in the short tale but his presence is felt in the grief that overwhelms his parents. Readers who are more medically literate than I will tremble with furry; doctors, practitioners, technicians, & nurses, visit Scotty at all hours of the day & night looking to find the cause of his ailment.

Perhaps I am being overly emotional in the face of something that is altogether out of my control, however, I found Carver’s decision to induce a coma on the child, to the ignorance of all the medical staff, disturbing. I state this feeling yet, I know the consequences of Scotty’s accident are too real to ignore.

On his birthday, while walking home with his friend, Scotty was struck by a passing car. He fell & slammed his head against the concrete. He experienced a short moment of consciousness, enough to get him home to explain to his mother what had happened & then, he collapsed, never to gain consciousness again. The path that this story follows sees the characters experience the various stages of grief. This begins with the forgotten realization that there was a cake to be baked for Scotty’s birthday.

It would be ignorant to state that the grief of a lost child ever goes away so, instead, I will say that the grief Scotty’s parents are exposed to throughout the story becomes a living entity in their person, to remain with them long after the reader departs.

As the torment of Scotty’s condition floats over the page, the Baker is working hours day & night to complete orders & prepare the shop for patrons. The reader sees very little of him either yet, similarly to Scotty, the Baker plays a crucial role in the narrative. His monologue to Scotty’s parents, following confused socially inept phone calls, reveals the inner workings of a man on the edge.

Readers may be in a position to forgive the blunt, deranged, nature of the Baker. As he explains, his life was once filled with hope; his dreams, the clouds he saw in the sky. Yet, day by day, these hopes soured & we find him now in darkness drenched in apathy for the world around him.

Certainly, it may be complicated to admit that in life we are limited to the circumstances in which we find ourselves. If one is stuck in the woods without shoes, one cannot escape cuts to the soles of one’s feet. However, one may choose, or attempt, to walk onward still. I will not pretend that my beliefs keep me in positive & uplifted spirits at all hours of the day & night. The cruel reality of existence does not escape me, nor do I pretend to forget that I am blessed to be alive. The Baker acts as a jagged reminder to Scotty’s parents & the reader that the complexity of life exists for all, though we may forget this truth, from time to time.

The interactions between the three adult characters may somewhat appease a reader. Though I found this part of the story intriguing, it left me physically pained. The gooey, soft-centred, baked goods fresh out of the industrial oven & the slippery, sugary, icing that swam over their tops pained me to imagine. What is kinder, more thoughtful, & gentler than a baked good?

The Baker offers Scotty’s parents the fruits of his labour, the very labour that oppresses him, the labour that has kept him away from experiencing the normalcy of life & social interactions. This is insurmountable kindness, especially if one notes that his offerings will have to be made up in a tighter time to account for the missing stock. However, it is no mystery to me why I feel overwhelmed but, my physical reaction to such buttery kindness is not the purpose of this review.

As I near the end of my meanderings I think back to the sneaking truth that Carver included in the middle of his story. A family sits in the hospital hallway waiting for news on their son, a boy who was shot & killed. American readers, Canadian readers, rather readers of any critical nature, or semblance of self-awareness will remain standing in the halls alongside the cold shoulder of grief that has nestled its claws into this family.

Carver does not outwardly speak of hate crimes, nor does he state that the child of this family has experienced what is surely the brutality of racism in the United States but, we both know this to be true. His situation is described as casual—a party, a gun, anger, death. Who among us has not been at the wrong place at the wrong time? Perhaps more than can speak to it now; fewer still whose physical appearance, whose ethnicity, whose race red-pins a marker for the nearsighted stupidity of a shrill & imbecilic existence that dawns the weapons of cruelty & violence on to them.

One notes the saying that indicates the merciless nature of life, forgetting the brutality of humanity. Each family in this story, representative of a family in the life of the reader both kin & foreign to them, denotes the flagrant nature of existence. On one day, like every other, the security one feels at being alive will be torn from them. Perhaps, this person will have no cause to fear, their terror will have no time to reach them.

For those who remain, the insecurity of love, safety, & existence will taunt them, asking for their faith, knowing it cannot promise its conservation. It would be untruthful of me to speak of grief as an estranged alien creature, I know him well; on my shoulder he sits & perhaps his companionship has allowed me to get this far or, maybe he is in fact deviously waiting for me to trip over the edge that I teeter, sensuously toying with the life I lead.

Ultimately, this story makes room for the reader in the passages that present simple statements, concocting the strenuous nature of the habitual blasphemy of life. Carver has a masterful way of teasing tenderness from the reader, even amid sentiments of heartsick melancholy.

His work speaks of a talent that is difficult to conceptualize, bleak in its truth, & gloomy in the light it shines on one’s moral shortcomings. To understand Carver one will need to meet him in his words. My patience grumbles along the sidewalk that I walk, several steps away from Scotty who singsongs his joyful existence on a birthday he will never celebrate, as I have just done with mine.

If you would like to read this story, please visit this •LINK•

[Max Cannon · Rating 5 out of 5]

Absolutely fantastic short story. This is minimalist writing at its finest.

Here's an analyzation I did for class of the emotional ending:

The final scene in Raymond Carvers’s “A Small, Good Thing” is to be received as an
overwhelming release of tension. After the heartbreak of enduring alongside parents grieving
their child’s death in the hospital, there is a visceral relaxation upon receiving the grace from the
baker. On Scotty’s birthday, he is hit by a car who simply keeps of driving which sends him into
a coma before dying soon after. On top of this, they are receiving eerie phone calls from a
mysterious number. This creates a pervasive sense of evil that looms over the already present
grief. Thus, in the midst of calling family members to break the news to them and enter into
mourning together, the mysterious number calls again. Ann recognizes the number as the baker
and they go to confront him in the middle of the night. She says to him, “I wanted to kill you…I
wanted you dead” (103). Yet upon hearing what had happened to Scotty, the baker
wholeheartedly apologizes as a dramatic twist and genuine surprise to the reader. For the first
time in the story, there is a warmth and a pleasant feeling. “It was warm inside the bakery.
Howard stood up from the table and took off his coat. He helped Ann from her coat…[the baker]
found cups and poured coffee from an electric coffee-maker. He put a carton of cream on the
table, and a bowl of sugar” (103). Alongside Howard and Ann, the reader is consoled from their
own heartbreak of reading this painful story. “‘You probably need to eat something,’ the baker
said. ‘I hope you’ll eat some of my hot rolls. You have to eat and keep going. Eating is a small,
good thing in a time like this’” (103). Just as they begin to eat once again and drink their coffee
and cream, the reader is nourished all the same. The baker confesses his loneliness as giving way
to his strange, heartless behavior. This climactic culmination of the two livelihoods acting out
against one another is resolved here. As the emptiness in both parties is filled in the blessing of
community in one another. Personally, in finishing the story I began to weep. The kinship of
humanity is so incredibly powerful that the final scene carried the force of a waterfall. This is
precisely what I suppose Carver intended, and he masterfully accomplishes the story-telling
technique.

[dianne b. · Rating 3 out of 5]

Compelling story.

If your doctor ever refers to you as "little mother" (Dr. Francis to Ann) crisis or not, know it's time to find yourself a new one.

[Realini Ionescu · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Compartment and A Small Good Thing by Raymond Carver

Another version of this note and thoughts on other books are available at:

- https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list...


The Compartment

In this narrative the hero travels by…train.
He is in Europe, on the way to see his son, who lives in Strasbourg.

At the start of the tale we have read about major differences between parent and child that have culminated in a fight.
Physical, with the father head locking the son.

But later on, a letter has not only explained about the move to Strasbourg, but invited the parent to come over.
And it ended with:

- Love

Since the father has not taken a holiday in a long time, at the American engineering firm where he works, he will take it now.
In fact he decides to have all the six weeks that he is entitled to.

On the train journey, an incident makes the man angry, but opens his eyes to even more serious issues in his life.
When he went to use the lavatory, he lost balance with the train taking a curve, but once back, he finds his coat was moved.
He still has his passport and the wallet, the latter was in his trousers, but an expensive gift bought for his son is missing.
The angry man tries to wake the only companion he has in The Compartment, but this has a hat over his face.
Apparently just awake, when asked about the gift, which was a Japanese watch, he is baffled; admittedly the lack of a common language does nothing to help.

To cut this less important aspect short, the more important discovery, following the theft is that he does not like his son

- In fact, he has no desire to see him
- What am I doing here?

What follows this reverse and perhaps perverse epiphany is for you to find out reading the excellent narrative.


A Small Good Thing

This short story has actually been reviewed by this reader.
Not in this form, hence the new note.

It was rated and discussed as The Bath, wherein, in a shorter form we have the exact same plot, with less developed characters.

An order is placed for a cake and we meet the baker from the beginning, with a rather cameo appearance in The Bath.
In this ample tale, the baker becomes not just a man providing a service in a too professional and insensitive manner, but one with a more prominent role.

In a movie version of this account, he would be assigned a supporting role, where he evolves from a service provider to an annoyed man, then an obnoxious villain abusing a struggling family and then he suffers a last transformation into, perhaps:

- A Small Good Thing

Ann Weiss is the mother of Scotty, who has a car accident right on his birthday and then he is taken to the hospital.
It is not clear what is wrong with him, for although he is unconscious, the doctors insist that his parameters are all right.

- But why is he not waking up?
- He is not in a coma, the doctors repeat

They make all kinds of tests, scan the boy and remain optimistic for much of the time, but the medical people have to admit defeat.
Meanwhile, the baker calls because the cake was not picked and he was not paid only to find the father on the phone

- What about the cake!?
- What do you mean, you have the wrong number
- Oh, that’s your game?!

The father is unaware and anyway very concerned with the condition of his son, while the baker is very angry that he worked for nothing.

This escalates and if you read the story you will see what happens

[Keith Moser · Rating 2 out of 5]

For some reason, I saved a link featuring this story based on someone's recommendation years ago. I'm not familiar with Raymond Carver nor do I remember who tweeted or facebooked this link, but I can't say I'm happy they pointed it out to me...

It's no longer listed on the Classic Shorts Bibliography for some reason but other classics like The Monkey Paw & The Lottery are. A Small Good Thing is a simple short story (just under 10,000 words) that tells of a young boy who was the victim of a hit and run on his birthday.

I think because it was recommended by someone, I was expecting some twist or turn in the end. Would the driver of the car wind up being someone unexpected? Would some miracle happen in the end? Would some mysterious figure save the day? Would there be some twist that made the whole story some parable for something else?

In the end it was just a story about people meeting over a tragedy and I can understand what Carver was going for, but I built the story up too much in my mind. I was expecting a Twilight Zone-like twist (like The Monkey Paw & The Lottery both had)... And when one didn't come, I was mostly just disappointed.

I guess one good thing about that mysterious recommendation... I found a site of short stories I can use if I fall too far behind in my annual Reading Challenge!

[Hayley · Rating 2 out of 5]

A short and sad read. I initially decided to read this book after a friend of mine asked me to read over an essay she had written about it. I expected there to be some kind of twist in the end, given some of the more sinister feeling parts halfway through, but that didn't happen. The story felt like it was building up to something and the ending just felt a bit flat and disappointing. The 'small, good thing' at the end just felt too random and unbelievable after pages of misery and sadness. Then the book just finishes and it feels a bit like "oh, that's it?". I do know my friend enjoyed this book and it's only 30 pages so give it a read if you're at all curious, but it just wasn't for me.

[Kevin · Rating 1 out of 5]

Why would anyone want to read this? Why would anyone want to write this?

[Vladimir (mecha_yota) Altukhov · Rating 4 out of 5]

Death is the most tragic thing that may (and will) happen to all of us. We can never guess its arrival, since for the most of the time it comes uninvited. To some it comes sooner, to some later. When it takes someone you love and care about, it's hard to cope with the loss. Only those, who are familiar with your pain, can console you at such times. Sometimes, it may be someone unexpected, someone you thought you'd never call an empathetic person.

This little story portrayed well the emotions and pain of losing someone close, especially your child. Unable to focus on the mundane routine, losing any grip of reality, becoming overwhelmed with negative feelings – it crushes people, it makes them miserable. The scene in the hospital where one of the characters – Ann – constantly thinks about other family she met (being in the similar situation) is a perfect portrayal of being lost, seeking for any kind of soul mate in desperate times.

I liked how the story begins and ends in the same place, yet the interaction between the characters changes completely – from apathetic, unemotional customer-worker chat to a heart-to-heart talk between broken parents and a man with a crushed, mundane life.

The only thing making it slightly weird is the sequence of events and the general tone towards the end, hinting at some sort of sinister ending. Still, as a whole, the story was good and enjoyable.

[Stephanie ~~ · Rating 5 out of 5]

Carver- I mean, what else is there to say? I couldn't sleep last night, and this is a beautiful, lyrical 30 pages of pure bliss...
Sometimes it's comforting to return to the voice of an author who has echoed throughout my mind for so many years. If you haven't read RC, any of his short stories, essays, poetry, it's just gorgeous writing. Such a treat.

[javier fernández · Rating 5 out of 5]

Había leído otro cuento de Carver cuando partí la universidad. Era muy cortito, me pareció sin asunto y laterísimo. Este otro era largo, muy largo, y tuvo un efecto contrario, literalmente al otro extremo. Yo creo que nunca había leído algo que me doliera tanto. Estoy impresionado con la construcción narrativa, la manera en que los detalles van nutriendo la atmósfera y estableciendo hilos para después en la trama, la delicadeza al contar. Estoy destruido, pero sobre todo me quedo con que se puede escribir, que hay gente que lo ha hecho y muy bien.

[Hon Hachimitsu · Rating 4 out of 5]

So much BETTER than “The Bath” imo. I read that first and went ballistic on how it was written and edited. I didn’t like how minimalistic it was cuz it really gave me nothing. This one however, gave me something. There was emotion, loss, sadness, frustration, mourning and community. It did end abruptly, as Carver is very famous for, and I did expect a plot twist there but it was sooo much better than nothing.
Lish really gave us nothing. Thank you for nothing, Lish.

[Nayan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wow, I am so stumped with this short story. It started out in a sort of staccato, mechanical undertone and it went ahead to subvert its foundation.
The story brilliantly shows how death is cold, indifferent and unpredictable. And sometimes life viscerally attacks and leaves wounds that are never overcome. And at times like these, kindness and love are perhaps the only antidote.
I will forever remember this story.

[hannah corinne · Rating 3 out of 5]

I don't necessarily like minimalism, but I liked this.

[kite ⭐️ · Rating 4 out of 5]

this was terribly sad and beautiful. i love the way carver writes, seemingly very simple but such wonderful use of language

[sambrita · Rating 2 out of 5]

I genuinely thought the eerie build-up will lead to some kind of sinister twist and.. it didn't.. and I would be lying if I said that it wasn't disappointing. My first Carver, I feel like I'm not educated enough on his works to speak of it as a whole, so I wouldn't know if spooky stories are his forte but he definitely knows how to create the tense, suspenseful atmosphere. I think at the end the small good thing is just finding the comfort that Ann and Howard did in an unlikely, hopeless place.

[Heather Picardat · Rating 1 out of 5]

I seem to be one of very few who don't appreciate carver's style. 'bland' is a good word for it. I understand the concept of this story, but I don't feel it was executed fully. the language is so simple, when you reach the climax you have no idea you've reached it at all. I feel I've wasted my time reading this, having gained no insight from its intended message.

[Simon Gonzalez · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have no words. Absolutely fantastic. Carver is a master storyteller. Every single word is important and the simplicity is absolutely wonderful. It’s unexpected, lush, rich, full of color, and black and white at the same time. I have so much admiration and love for this piece.

[Chakavak · Rating 4 out of 5]

"انسان هایی عادی, اسیر روابطی رنگ باخته که در شرایط غیرعادی و خاص واکنش های نامتعارف از خود بروز می دهند." یعنی کارور