Beginners

by Raymond Carver

  Of course I know I shouldn’t have signed the contract without first reading the collection and making my fears, if any, known to you beforehand, before signing. So what should we do now, please advise? Can you lay it all on me and get me out of the contract someway? Can you put the book off until Winter or Spring of 1982 and let them know I want to have the stories in the collection published in magazines first (and that’s the truth, several of them are committed to places with publication way off next year)? Tell them I want the magazine publications first, and then the book out when I’m up for tenure here that spring of 1982? And then decide next year what, for sure, to do? Or else can or should everything just be stopped now, I send back the Knopf check, if it’s on the way, or else you stop it there? And meanwhile I pay you for the hours, days and nights, I’m sure, you’ve spent on this. Goddamn it, I’m just nearly crazy with this. I’m getting into a state over it. No, I don’t think it should be put off. I think it had best be stopped.

  I thought the editing, especially in the first version, was brilliant, as I said. The stories I can’t let go of in their entirety are these. “Community Center” (It Please You) and “The Bath” (A Small Good Thing) and I’d want some more of the old couple, Anna and Henry Gates, in “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love” (Beginners). I would not want “Mr. Fixit” (Where Is Everyone?) in the book in its present state. The story “Distance” should not have its title changed to “Everything Stuck to Him.” Nor the little piece “Mine” to “Popular Mechanics.” “Dummy” should keep its title. “A Serious Talk” is fine for “Pie.” I think “Want to See Something?” is fine, is better than “I Could See the Smallest Things.” Otherwise, with the exception of little things here and there, incorporating some of the changes from version #2 into #1, I could live with and be happy with. That little business at the end of “Pie” (A Serious Talk) him leaving the house with the ashtray, that’s just inspired and wonderful. There are so many places like that the ms is stronger and clearer and more wonderful. But I could not have “Mr. Fixit” published the way it is in the present collection. Either the whole story, the one that’s in TRIQUARTERLY now, or at least the better part of it, or else not at all.

  I’m just much too close to all of this right now. It’s even hard for me to think right now. I think, in all, maybe it’s just too soon for me for another collection. I know that next spring is too soon in any case. Absolutely too soon. I think I had best pull out, Gordon, before it goes any further. I realize I stand every chance of losing your love and friendship over this. But I strongly feel I stand every chance of losing my soul and my mental health over it, if I don’t take that risk. I’m still in the process of recovery and trying to get well from the alcoholism, and I just can’t take any chances, something as momentous and permanent as this, that would put my head in some jeopardy. That’s it, it’s in my head. You have made so many of these stories better, my God, with the lighter editing and trimming. But those others, those three, I guess, I’m liable to croak if they came out that way. Even though they may be closer to works of art than the originals and people be reading them 50 years from now, they’re still apt to cause my demise, I’m serious, they’re so intimately hooked up with my getting well, recovering, gaining back some little self-esteem and feeling of worth as a writer and a human being.

  I know you must feel angry and betrayed and pissed off. God’s sake, I’m sorry. I can pay you for the time you’ve put in on this, but I can’t begin to help or do anything about the trouble and grief I may be causing there in the editorial and business offices that you’ll have to go through. Forgive me for this, please. But I’m just going to have to wait a while yet for another book, 18 months, two years, it’s okay now, as long as I’m writing and have some sense of worth in the process. Your friendship and your concern and general championing of me have meant, and mean still, more to me than I can ever say. I could never begin to repay you, as you must know. I honor and respect you, and I love you more than my brother. But you will have to get me off the hook here Gordon, it’s true. I just can’t go another step forward with this endeavor. So please advise what to do now. I’m going out of town tomorrow, but I will be back Saturday. Monday morning I’m leaving for the West Coast, Bellingham, and Pt. Townsend, as I think I mentioned, and I’ll hook up with Tess out there and return here on the 30th of July. My address here is

  832 Maryland Avenue

  Syracuse, NY 13210

  As I say, I’m confused, tired, paranoid, and afraid, yes, of the consequences for me if the collection came out in its present form. So help me, please, yet again. Don’t, please, make this too hard for me, for I’m just likely to start coming unraveled knowing how I’ve displeased and disappointed you. God almighty, Gordon.

  Ray {signed}

  Please do the necessary things to stop production of the book. Please try and forgive me, this breach.

  Not long afterward, Carver spoke to Lish by telephone. No record of their conversation is preserved, but Lish’s point of view prevailed. The contract remained in force, and production of the book proceeded at full speed. By this time the mechanisms of publication were out of Carver’s hands. He may not have realized this, because he spent July 10, 1980, belatedly comparing the first and second edited versions of the book. That evening he wrote Lish a letter filled with equivocations. On the one hand, he was thrilled at the prospect of a book with Knopf and deeply grateful to his editor. “It’s a beauty for sure,” he began, “it is, and I’m honored and grateful for your attentions to it.” On the other hand, he had nagging doubts about the cuts made to the stories. He proposed specific changes to the edited text, “small enough” but “significant.” These were largely restorations of material Lish had deleted during the second editing. “I have serious questions or reservations,” Carver wrote, “or I wouldn’t have marked the things I did.” His fear was that the pared-down stories would make his writing seem disjointed. “I’m mortally afraid of taking out too much from the stories, or making them too thin, not enough connecting tissue to them.”

  Rather than attempt to salvage “Where Is Everyone?” which had been cut by more than three-quarters and renamed “Mr. Coffee and Mr. Fixit,” Carver requested that it be dropped from the collection. The original story was in press at TriQuarterly, and he understood that the editor was submitting it for a possible O. Henry Award. Moreover, as a story about an alcoholic just beginning to face his problems, “Where Is Everyone?” marked a turning point in his own recovery. “I have a lot of rampant and complicated feelings about that story,” he explained, “no matter if it is never included in a book in any form whatsoever.” He finished the letter the next morning, restating that he was “thrilled with this book and that you’re bringing it out of Knopf.” Eager to rejoin Gallagher in Port Angeles, he focused on endorsements and publicity. To build anticipation for the new book, the previously unpublished stories would need to be rushed into magazines. By the end of the letter, Carver has slipped back into the deferential posture he had assumed toward Lish during his drinking years. “I once told you I thought I could die happy after having a story in Esquire,” he wrote. “Now a book out with Knopf—and such a book! And there’ll be more, you’ll see. I’m drawing a long second wind.” He closed “with my love” and promised he would write again “sometime or another” in the future.

  By the eve of Carver’s departure from Syracuse, the night of July 14, 1980, he had left the form of the book to his editor’s discretion. “I know you have my best interests at heart,” he said in a letter, “and you’ll do everything and more to further those interests.” Not wanting to be “a pest of an author,” he asked only that Lish “please look at” the restorations he had proposed: “if you think I’m being my own worst enemy, you know, well then, stick to the final version of the second edited version.” The resistance he had voiced a week earlier had collapsed, as had his self-confidence. “Maybe I am wrong in this, maybe you are 100% correct, just please give them another hard
look. That’s all.” His only firm directive was that “Mr. Coffee and Mr. Fixit” should not be included in the book.

  How did Lish respond to Carver’s unease about the editing of What We Talk About When We Talk About Love? In August 1998 he told The New York Times Magazine, “my sense of it was that there was a letter and that I just went ahead.” In due course he sent Carver proofs of What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. “I still haven’t done anything but glance at the galleys you sent up,” Carver wrote on October 6, 1980. “Took the wind out of my sails some when you said to send them back to you so soon without reading them even.” Had he read them, he would have found that the stories conformed to Lish’s second edited version, to which a few more cuts had been made. Virtually none of the changes Carver proposed were incorporated, and the book included “Mr. Coffee and Mr. Fixit.”

  On February 15, 1980, Carver had written Lish to say he had on hand three groups of stories. One group had previously appeared in little magazines or small-press books but had never been published in a trade-press book. A second group either had appeared or would soon appear in periodicals. A third group consisted of newly written stories still in typescript.

  The Beginners manuscript as presented in this volume comprises these three groups of stories. In preparing the stories for submission to Knopf, Carver revised a number of them that had appeared in books or magazines. These authorial revisions, including handwritten corrections, are reflected in the text. Obvious word omissions, misspellings, and inconsistencies in punctuation in the manuscript have been silently corrected. What follows is a publication history of each story in the Beginners manuscript, including an account of its editing by Lish and its subsequent appearances, if any, in books by Carver.

  Abbreviations

  Beginners: Beginners, untitled manuscript preserved among the Gordon Lish papers in the Lilly Library of Indiana University as “Raymond Carver, What We Talk About When We Talk About Love, Manuscript—First Draft.” Net editorial reduction of word-count of each story in the manscrupt is expressed as a percentage.

  Cathedral: Cathedral, first edition (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1983)

  Fires: Fires: Essays, Poems, Stories, first edition (Santa Barbara: Capra Press, 1983)

  FS: Furious Seasons and Other Stories (Santa Barbara Capra Press, 1977). The papers of Capra Press are housed at the Lilly Library

  WICF: Where I’m Calling From: New and Selected Stories, first edition (New York: Atlantic Monthly Press, 1988)

  WWTA: What We Talk About When We Talk About Love, first edition (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1981)

  Why Don’t You Dance? Beginners: eight-page manuscript cut by 9 percent for inclusion in WWTA as “Why Don’t You Dance?” PREVIOUS PUBLICATION: “Why Don’t You Dance?” Quarterly West, Autumn 1978; The Paris Review, Spring 1981. The version in The Paris Review was the product of Lish’s first editing of Beginners. In 1977 Carver had submitted a story entitled “Why Don’t You Dance?” to Esquire. Lish had edited it and changed the title to “I Am Going to Sit Down,” but no version ever appeared in Esquire. As published in Quarterly West the story included many but not all of Lish’s suggested changes and is nearly identical to the text in Beginners. SUBSEQUENT PUBLICATION: “Why Don’t You Dance?” was collected in WICF as it appeared in WWTA.

  Viewfinder. Beginners: six-page manuscript cut by 30 percent for inclusion in WWTA as “Viewfinder.” PREVIOUS PUBLICATION: As “View Finder,” Iowa Review, Winter 1978, and Quarterly West, Spring–Summer 1978. These two versions, which are virtually identical, included many of Lish’s suggested changes to “The Mill,” an earlier story by Carver that remains unpublished. The title “The Mill” was based on the handless man’s observation: “You’re going through the mill now.” Lish deleted that sentence and renamed the story “Viewfinder” based on a word that occurs twice in the original text. Efforts to publish “Viewfinder” in Esquire came to a halt when Lish ceased to be fiction editor in September 1977. The text in Quarterly West is identical to the text in Beginners. SUBSEQUENT PUBLICATION: None.

  Where Is Everyone? Beginners: fifteen-page manuscript cut by 78 percent for inclusion in WWTA as “Mr. Coffee and Mr. Fixit.” PREVIOUS PUBLICATION: “Where Is Everyone?” TriQuarterly, Spring 1980. The text in TriQuarterly is identical to the text in Beginners except for differences in punctuation. NOTE ON WWTA: In Lish’s first editing of the story he changed the daughter’s name from Kate to Melody, changed the wife’s name from Cynthia to Myrna, and eliminated all references to the son, Mike. He renamed the story “Mr. Fixit” but later changed that to “Mr. Coffee and Mr. Fixit.” SUBSEQUENT PUBLICATION: As “Where Is Everyone?” in Fires. The text in Fires is identical to the text in TriQuarterly except for light editing by Carver, including his deletion of the line “I don’t know where everyone is at home.” As a result, the line appears only in TriQuarterly and Beginners.

  Gazebo. Beginners: thirteen-page manuscript cut by 44 percent for inclusion in WWTA as “Gazebo.” PREVIOUS PUBLICATION: A version of “Gazebo” that was the product of Lish’s first editing of Beginners appeared in Missouri Review, Fall 1980. SUBSEQUENT PUBLICATION: “Gazebo” was collected in WICF in a version nearly identical to that in WWTA.

  Want to See Something? Beginners: eleven-page manuscript cut by 56 percent for inclusion in WWTA as “I Could See the Smallest Things.” PREVIOUS PUBLICATION: A version of “Want to See Something?” that was the product of Lish’s first editing of Beginners appeared in Missouri Review, Fall 1980. In the first editing Lish deleted most of the story’s original ending; in the second editing he changed the title to “I Could See the Smallest Things.” SUBSEQUENT PUBLICATION: None.

  The Fling. Beginners: twenty-one-page manuscript cut by 61 percent for inclusion in WWTA as “Sacks.” PREVIOUS PUBLICATION: “The Fling,” Perspective: A Quarterly of Modern Literature, Winter 1974; collected in FS. The texts in Perspective and FS are nearly identical to the text in Beginners. SUBSEQUENT PUBLICATION: None.

  A Small, Good Thing. Beginners: thirty-seven-page manuscript cut by 78 percent for inclusion in WWTA as “The Bath.” PREVIOUS PUBLICATION: A version of “The Bath” that was the product of Lish’s first editing of Beginners appeared in Columbia: A Magazine of Poetry and Prose, Spring–Summer 1981. SUBSEQUENT PUBLICATION: As “A Small, Good Thing” in Ploughshares, 1982. The version in Ploughshares followed the Beginners manuscript except for minor changes in diction and phrasing and the deletion of a four-page flashback section. None of Lish’s changes in “The Bath” were incorporated into the Ploughshares text except for a few rephrasings in the opening paragraphs. Carver collected “A Small, Good Thing” in Cathedral, in the process lightly editing the version in Ploughshares and incorporating into it several revisions suggested to him by Tess Gallagher. “A Small, Good Thing” was collected in WICF as it appeared in Cathedral.

  Tell the Women We’re Going. Beginners: nineteen-page manuscript cut by 55 percent for inclusion in WWTA as “Tell the Women We’re Going.” PREVIOUS PUBLICATION: As “Friendship,” Sou’wester Literary Quarterly, Summer 1971. In 1969 Carver had submitted “Friendship” to Lish for consideration at Esquire, but the story was not accepted. He later submitted it to Noel Young, publisher of Capra Press, for inclusion in FS, but Young deemed it “too gruesome for my quavering senses” and excluded it (Capra Press mss., letter of April 24, 1977). The text of “Tell the Women We’re Going” in Beginners is very similar to the text of “Friendship” in Sou’wester. In revising the story Carver changed the title, altered a few words, and expanded the final paragraph. SUBSEQUENT PUBLICATION: None.

  If It Please You. Beginners: twenty-six-page manuscript cut by 63 percent for inclusion in WWTA as “After the Denim.” PREVIOUS PUBLICATION: “If It Please You,” New England Review, Spring 1981. The text in New England Review is nearly identical to the text in Beginners. NOTE ON WWTA: In Lish’s first editing he changed the title to “Community Center” and canceled the last six pages. He later renamed the story “After
the Denim.” SUBSEQUENT PUBLICATION: If It Please You was published in a signed, limited edition of 226 copies by Lord John Press of Northridge, California, in 1984. The text in the limited edition agrees with the text in New England Review except for a few changes in phrasing. Carver revised the final sentence of the story several times:

  “If it please you,” he said in the new prayers for all of them, the living and the dead. Then he slept. (Beginners, second sentence hand-canceled by Carver)

  “If it please you,” he said in the new prayers for all of them, the living and the dead. (New England Review)

  “If it please you,” he said in the new prayers for all of them. (Lord John Press limited edition)

  So Much Water So Close to Home. Beginners: twenty-seven-page manuscript cut by 70 percent for inclusion in WWTA as “So Much Water So Close to Home.” PREVIOUS PUBLICATION: “So Much Water So Close to Home,” Spectrum, 1975; collected in FS. The texts in Spectrum and FS are identical. An abridged version of the story was published in Playgirl, February 1976. The Playgirl editor made extensive cuts and added two final sentences that appear nowhere else: “I begin to scream. It doesn’t matter any longer.” The texts in Spectrum and FS are identical to the text in Beginners except for differences in punctuation. SUBSEQUENT PUBLICATION: “So Much Water So Close To Home” was included in Fires in a text nearly identical to that in FS. The version in Fires was collected in WICF.

  Dummy. Beginners: twenty-four-page manuscript cut by 40 percent for inclusion in WWTA as “The Third Thing That Killed My Father Off.” PREVIOUS PUBLICATION: “Dummy,” Discourse: A Review of the Liberal Arts, Summer 1967; collected in FS. The source of the text in FS was an offprint from Discourse on which Carver had made incidental corrections. The text in FS is virtually identical to the text in Beginners. NOTE ON WWTA: In Lish’s second editing he changed the title from “Dummy” to “The First Thing That Killed My Father Off” after adding and then canceling the title “Friendship.” He later changed the title to “The Third Thing That Killed My Father Off.” SUBSEQUENT PUBLICATION: “The Third Thing That Killed My Father Off” was collected in WICF in a version nearly identical to that in WWTA.