BOOKS
303
is
never able to exceed himself; he is a man to whom, beyond his
sensitivity, few things 'seem valuable or even real.
These stories without punch lines are distracted rather than re–
flective: daydreams. As coherent fictions, they are not unfinished: they
have hardly been begun.
Easily the best of the'se six books is Richard G. Stern's
Teeth, Dying
and
.Other
Matter~.,
This collection consists of thirteen stories, a play,
and an essay. The play and the essay are expendable: the stories are
what count, and they are, generally, fine examples of economy, intel–
ligence, and literary tact. Mr. Stern is a compassionate and careful
writer, able to distinguish between his subjects and limitations, sure of
his intentions.
>
Although all are executed skillfully, these stories span a period of
roughly fifteen years, and the most recent are, in general, the best:
("Teeth," "Wanderers," and "Dying"). They are concerned, more or
less, with people in a fix. In "Wanderers," for instance, Mr. Stern deals
with Miss Swindleman's awakening. A cashier
in
a West Side "transient
and permanent" hotel, for years she has imagined herself representing
"rules" and gentile stability to the unsettled Jews, who keep sending her
postcards (which she organizes into a collection). Invulnerable
to
ex–
perience, she cannot understand them; then, too late, her closed mind
opens: "An opening had been made. What does one do about an open–
ing? Send a
'p~tcard
of the Empire State Building to oneself? ... The
opening was a wound ill Miss Swindleman. Days passed, and embarrass–
ment . . . was all she could stuff in to stop the raw ache. She was
altered, but the alteration had nowhere to go."
Managing a desperate but gentle humor, Mr. Stern discovers unex–
pected states.of our sophisticated minds. The only fault worth noting
in these stories is a certain tendency to favor grace at the expense of
weight. Engaging in formalities, the author sometimes risks patness;
intent on his detachment from his characters, he occasionally robs
these stories of the moral energy and substance which a closer, less
provisional commitment would allow.
Nevertheless, the general orientation of his writing is one that
makes literature possible and more than 'self-expression, something other
than
one's private odds and ends. In contrast to these other writers,
Mr.
Stern is aware of the difference between personal and artistic neces–
sity.
He knows that to project internal disarray upon the limitations of
the world is an activity of more interest to psychologists than to readers
of fiction.
Stephen Donadio
