Last Night: Stories

A quick read through these ten stories might leave one with the impression that Salter has only one theme: infidelity. And this would not be an altogether inaccurate impression. What makes these stories interesting though is not the infidelity itself (sex is rarely mentioned in these stories) but the examination of the psychological conditions that lead to it as well as its psychological aftermath.Due to their own or another's infidelities, most of Salter's characters are into their second marriages when we meet them. His characters cope with their disappointments in various ways. The ones who were cheated on preserve what innocence they have left by surrounding themselves with sympathetic friends and developing a more cynical view of human relationships; the ones that did the cheating try to rise above the petty gossip that follows them and cultivate a more detached/philosophical attitude toward the social mores that they violated. Both groups are wounded and protect themselves in whatever ways they can, but inside they all remain restless romantics/dreamers as vulnerable and capable of new life as poets and this is why Salter's stories always strike one as fresh.Whether in their first or second or third marriage, Salter's restless male and female characters are never satisfied with the settled nature of marital bliss. Salter's are imaginative and desiring creatures more often than not uncomfortable within the confines of matrimony; therefore they are always searching for new or returning to old loves or at least revisiting them in their daydreams. In Salter's stories the past is always sabotaging the present; the past is always richer and riper and more full of promise than the present (or at least his characters believe it to be so) and so it is to the past that his characters repeatedly return.In the real world, men and women who stray are vilified, but Salter has a way of complicating our reactions: his cheaters are both pathetic (for allowing dreams/idealizations of the past to ruin the present) and heroic (for refusing to surrender the most poetic/rarest part of themselves). It is never clear whether Salter thinks that the "poetic" part of these characters is their truest and rarest part or their shabbiest part. Salter offers no certainties, but the ambiguity is certainly part of the complex allure of these stories.Salter's uncommon examination of a very common condition is what makes these stories more than worth your while.Highly recommended.

My comments relate to James Salter’s two short story collections: Dusk (1988) and Last Night (2005). I have not Salter’s novels, and I am a relatively new reader of the short stories. I did not know, prior to purchasing the collections, that a great deal has been written and published regarding the misogynistic attitudes of Salter’s characters. (See, for example, the terrific piece by Susan McCallum Smith on Salter’s novel All That Is and two Slate pieces published in June 2013, one by Roxanna Robinson and one, by Katie Roiphe. All are online.) These and other pieces grapple with many issues, notably, whether or not it is “fair” to criticize an author for creating characters with such views and whether such characters have any place (or, at least, such a prominent place) in contemporary fiction. I am not a literary critic. What I can tell you is that the male characters created by Salter will almost always make sure that you, the reader, know exactly what he thinks about the female character’s body, often in a most demeaning, most icky way. In “Comet,” (Last Night), he will let you know (excuse me, his male characters will let you know) that Adele was still “young enough to be good-looking, the final blaze of it…). Fortunately, in “Eyes of the Stars” (Last Night), you will learn immediately (first sentence, first paragraph) that Teddy was “short with short legs and her body had lost its shape.” And, also, she had “pouches under her eyes and chin,” but “she dressed neatly and people liked her.” And, later, in the same collection, in “My Lord You,” the husband, Warren, will share with you his assessment of his wife, Ardis: “She could be good-looking but there were times when she was not. Her face was like a series of photographs, some of which ought to have been thrown away.” (I should note that only female characters age so poorly; male characters do not.) Much has been written about the story entitled “Last Night.” I don’t even know what to say about that one. The collection entitled Dusk was published 17 years before Last Night. I read it before the later one and don’t remember it as well. The whiff of misogyny is not as overpowering in that collection, but it’s there. The title story is about “a fine woman whom no one wanted.” Apparently, it seemed to Salter a good idea to go with this kind of take on things – I mean, women – into the new century. Salter was a fabulous short story writer. I honestly find it all kind of baffling. Thanks for reading my comments.

These ten stories are simply perfect and therefore pretty much impossible to describe. From "Last Night" with its beautifully ambiguous title, the first story I read, to "Platinum," the last one I read, there is not one superfluous word in Mr. Salter's elegant prose. He can describe a person or place with a word or two; or when he's being long-winded, he may need a complete sentence. A retarded six-year old swimming in a pond has an anxious face "above the surface like a dog's." A dog is simply "yellow-eyed." A woman who is past 40 had "only her personality and good nature by that time, the rest, as she herself would say, had turned into a size fourteen." Another woman's only fault is that she didn't like to cook. "She couldn't cook and talk at the same time." Although many of Mr. Salter's characters are upper middleclass, they don't appear to be much better off than the rest of us. They just meet in nicer hotels to commit their adulteries. Some of them lead lives of quiet desperation. Mr. Salter is also the master of understated irony. For example, in "Last Night," arguably the best story in this small collection, a terminally ill woman plans her suicide with assistance from her husband and invites a young woman, "a family friend," to dine with her and her husband for her last supper. This quiet little story, as Garrison Keillor would say, will blow your head off.Short stories do not get better than these.

Salter is an elegant writer but it seems from these stories has a limited view of the world. He writes about an American middle and upper elite of movie stars and lawyers who dine out a lot and are shallow creatures. They inhabit a world quite oblivious to poverty and daily struggle and consequently for the average reader it is a strain to empathise with most of them. Salter's memoir Burning the Days which in the end becomes a name-dropping exercise is memorable for his descriptions ofhis flying career. In a way Salter led a charmed life and this is reflected in his characters. You won't meet many hamburgers but you'll eat a lot of caviar in posh restaurants.

The author's reputation and some glowing reviews persuaded me to buy this before a holiday when I did not expect to have time to read a full length novel. I must be missing something because I didn't find the the stories I read (I haven't bothered to finish it) at all satisfying or even particularly interesting. I will give them another try but won’t be in any hurry.

I enjoyed these stories very much - their mixture of wry humour and sharp social observation, not obscuring darker truths, was very engaging. Slater is a fine writer, hitherto somewhat overlooked by the literary establishment, here and in America. The publication of these stories and his novels in uniform edition should redress that.

Stories you won't forget quickly and will return to. A masterpiece.

These stories - mostly of infidelity with unusual twists - have wide-ranging, semi-glamorous settings: the military, LA TV people, Wall Street dealers, literary types, New York high-lifers... People in this comfortable world say, 'He was a poet, of course', and go off 'with a man named Rodriguez who owned some beauty parlours'; in particular, middle-aged men are liable to risk it all for sights like 'the faint trace of bones like pearls that ran down her smooth back'. Smooth female beauty ('Ardis possessed extraordinary skin, luminous and smooth, a skin so pure that to touch it would make one tremble') is everywhere, alongside mild irony ('it had been a while since Adele had married'), judicious similes ('She was a kind of cheap goddess') and poised, weighted and classy paragraphs and dialogue (too long to quote, but just open the book anywhere)... If a good short-story, for me, is easy to get into, makes you inhabit the characters' worlds quickly, surprises you, and ends just at the right time and in the right way, then these fit the template beautifully. Something really subtle and hard-worked is going on, making them so fine that I'll even forgive them their patrician tastefulness. I'd definitely read more by this writer. Any recommendations?