Response 1:
I had already read “A Small, Good Thing” by the time I had seen the prompt for this week. Since I already know what happens in the story, I would like to discuss my preconceptions about the short story and how they were met by the text.
I would like to start by examining the title of the short story. “A Small, Good Thing,” in my opinion, is a very broad and unspecific title. I think that the title is very intelligent because it doesn’t really allow the reader to form very specific preconceptions about the plot. Carver, very intelligently, avoids specifics. The same can be said with the first line of the short story, “Saturday afternoon she drove to the little bakery in the shopping center” (804). The line leaves little room for preconception. We know what day it is, what time of day it is, that there is a female character, and that she is going to the shopping center. However, we learn nothing too specific where we can make any assumptions about the plot. Rather than saying “Ann drove,” Carver uses a pronoun (she) to mask her identity. Instead of naming the little bakery and the shopping center, Carver chooses to simply call the two places “little bakery” and “shopping center.” In a sense, we are given very small details as we read each sentence. This may be a little adventurous, but we can look at these details as “small good things” that eventually accumulate and become a larger thing (characterization, plot). Essentially many works of literature follow this trend, but the title of this work paired with its textual mechanics really made me think about it. With these things being said, I didn’t really have many preconceptions about the plot in its entirety after reading the title. In fact, I had no idea what the story was going to be about so I was more excited to get into reading it.
The title, though, did make me think about small moments and how much weight they carry (sometimes it really is the little things that matter). I suppose one could argue that the reality of the text is that small things do matter and they are often starting points for bigger things (the process of grieving, for instance). More specifically, it seems that “a small good thing” is a good place to start (while grieving, or taking part in a larger process) and its presence is elevated by the negative things that may have happened beforehand. To bring this notion back to the text, the small act of eating cinnamon buns in the bakery meant so much more to Ann and Howard because of what they just went through with their son getting hit by a car and dying. Eating cinnamon buns and talking with the baker may have not been as rewarding if negative actions did not occur beforehand. We can even bring this idea full circle and relate the textual happenings to the process of reading. My preconceptions were formed by “A Small, Good Thing,” the title of the story. This small good thing, a title, was a good place for me to start the process of reading and analyzing text (similar to how the cinnamon buns were a good place for Ann and Howard to start). Ann and Howard’s consumption of cinnamon buns and talking to the baker were escalated by their son’s death; whereas, my curiosity after reading the title was elevated due to the fact I had never read anything from Carver before and he had not been too detailed in his title and the first sentence of his story.
I had stumbled upon this story thinking I was going to read a very short story (I heard rumors that Carver wrote in a minimalist style) and I read a much longer work. I hadn’t really thought about what the story would be about, but Carvers writing style kept me hooked. My preconceptions were not well detailed, but I had expected something small to mean something larger, and I think the reality of the text proves that notion to be somewhat correct.
Response 2:
After reading “A Small, Good Thing” I must say that I really like Carver’s writing style and the way in which the story was presented. He starts us off with miniscule details and we soon know tons of information about Ann, Howard, and the inner-workings of their family. I am intrigued by the delivery of the story and the development of the characters. More specifically, I like the way in which we find out information about the characters (both through their discussion and the way the narrator describes their actions). I’m not sure if anyone else feels this way, but I feel as if there is a very dreary to this story. Even before Scotty is put into the hospital, it feels like something bad is going to happen. I think the stature and blankness of the baker foreshadows negative implications for the characters. In many ways, the baker halts any positive vibes we get upon reading the beginning of the text. When I think about birthday cakes and birthdays, I generally think happy thoughts. However any happy thoughts about birthdays ceased once I read, “the baker was not jolly” (Carver 804). To be honest, I was more curious about the baker than I was about the Scotty, Ann, or Howard. Ann’s meeting with the baker resonated in my head as I continued to read the rest of the story. His constant phone calls also made him more mysterious; at times he seemed like a complete psychopath. I think, though, that I only viewed him as cruel based on the fact that I knew Scotty was in the hospital.
There are many tensions within the plot of “A Small, Good Thing.” First, there is the most obvious tension between Ann, Howard, and the baker. This conflict is inevitably resolved when both parties realize that there isn’t much difference between them. At the end of the story, they are both lonely and are both, in a strange way, finding comfort in one another. Then, there is the conflict taking place between Ann and herself. She seems to feel as if she is a terrible mother and one might argue that she felt guilty about not living up to her past promises about moving (the ones she made while praying). Lastly, there is conflict between the baker and self. This tension isn’t really evident until the end of the story, but we see that he is an extremely confused person and isn’t really as bad as he seems at first. His confusion is evident in those final paragraphs, “I don’t know how to act anymore, it would seem” (829). I think there is some type of closure at the end of the story, though. I feel as if the baker and Ann and Howard console in one another (both parties are lonely and very confused).
My favorite lines in this story are the lines that the baker speaks to Ann and Howard. These were my favorite because, as I said before, the baker’s actions in the beginning of the story made me curious. The paragraph where he talks to Ann and Howard give us some insight into his life and allows us to view him from a different perspective. I had also not expected the baker to be kind at any point in the story and was surprised that he had some personal issues. The bakers character makes me think about the people we randomly see or meet during our lives. Sometimes we’ll look at someone and assume we know everything about them simply by observing their posture. However, as the baker shows, there is much more to a person than how they present themselves. There is something beyond their presentation that only a conversation can uncover. I enjoy how Carver ends the story with the baker, Ann, and Howard all eating and talking as the sun rises. The “high pale cast of light in the windows” (830) could also be symbolic of better days (the sun and its brightness).
For my video/song I decided on "Spanish Sahara" by Foals. Mostly due to the lyrics and the theme of isolation that seems to be dominant in the video:
1. Carver definitely gives nothing away. Attempting to create meaning from the title and first line was a guessing game. If we were to give that assignment to students we'd want to think about whether or not they have enough information so as to not get discouraged.
ReplyDeleteTo me, it looks like you are applying the idea of pain for pleasure to Ann and Howard. Considering the pain they feel, the bread is a small, good thing. If all was well in their lives, it was just be another piece of bread. As far as your reading, mystery seems to stoke intrigue, whereas a more explicit title may have just lead you to find early meaning.
2. The baker definitely casts an early shadow like you said. Not only is he not jolly, I felt some disdain in the description of him...looking back I have nothing good to cite as proof though. He also seemed psychopathic as you stated. He continually calls the cake Scotty, not even saying it was a cake. He was beyond not knowing how to act any more...though in the opening paragraph he does give Ann time to talk.
Awesome video. I was mesmerized by the image of the waves moving the dark blue water ice water. The line "the waves drag you down and carry you to broken ground" seemed to resonate with the Carver's story.
1. As I read your comments about the meaning of those cinnamon buns and the process of grieving, it was as if I were reading my own post. I felt the same way, but what I enjoyed about your post is how you tied it back to reading, back to the characters in the story, and how you interpreted the title. I think that is the deeper level of thinking that we need to accomplish in this project.
ReplyDelete2. I like your idea of Carver giving us a little information, bit by bit, until we get the whole picture. Maybe those are the small good things. We don't know for sure, but it was a different thought that I hadn't realize. I also agree with the dreariness and sense of foreboding you saw in the beginning. Carver's style really had me thinking bad things were afoot. Also, your inquiring about the baker--very interesting. I would love to know his story, and why he was compelled to act like a sociopath over an unpaid cake.
I really like your thoughts on the strangers we pass everyday. I think about that a lot. How we live in our own little spheres of reality, and we temporarily enter each other's spheres, for however brief a time, unless we actually meet someone, and then we're in. Until we don't see that person for a long long time. I think about what emotions people have as I pass by them, and I wonder if they can read mine. Do they know what it feels like to be here, now? Do they see the flock of pigeons dipping and diving together as one like a school of fish? Or are they worried about their next meeting, getting lunch, or just permanently checked out like the baker? Could I make a difference to someone as isolated as the baker? Why is it so uncomfortable when we try?
ReplyDeleteSometimes I ramble, but I've obviously given this some thought.
The Foals intrigue me. Thanks for the song. I'm always about 3 years behind with music.