There are amongst the hundreds of styles of short story, those that hug the side of pure narrative and those that offer a snippit of the complexities of human life. Of the latter, there is none greater than Anton Chekov, but modern masters also abound... Tobias Wolfe comes to mind. In my reading of Peter Taylor's "The Old Forest and Other Stories", I couldn't help but feel that his audience has passed. I enjoyed many of the stories, some quite alot, but they did not speak to me. They did not resonate. Personal favorites like 'Promise of Rain','The Scoutmaster', and 'The Gift of the Prodigal' contain more of an element of a narrative style, sprinkled with those ominous gaps that lie behind a person's mind. The titular story is perhaps my favorite except for its being bogged down with expository literacy. I have a distinct feeling that I have read a book that added to my knowledge of writing and reading as a whole, but I have not read a book in which I have thoroughly enjoyed.

With full acknowledgments for the differences in taste, I must express a total dislike of many of the other stories: the final play, 'The Death of a Kinsman' in particular. The underhandedness disguised as cleverness on the writer's part is obfuscating and patronizing. In fact, I think patronizing is a good word to sum up the collection. However, good writing intentionally raises opinions. If you've come so far as to read the reviews on this page, it might just be worth investigating these stories yourself.

I have a confession to make. I don't like these stories. I recognize the strengths of Taylor's story telling - the elegant language, the depiction of emotional tension in simple things, the clear progression of 'story' or theme from setup to inevitable conclusion, but I can't get past a deep dislike for his characters. This is a personal failing. Taylor's fiction depicts a world that is inhabited almost exclusively by a certain class of affluent, white, middle class city dwellers whose lives are bounded on the upside by manners, fashion and ritual (in imitation of an upper class to which, presumably, they aspire)and on the downside by a stiff reticence and correctness of behavior to insulate them from their inferiors (not only their black servants but also whites of a lesser social and economic standing). I grew up in Nashville, TN at a time when this world was rapidly passing away, but I have met people, more than a few, who could have stepped from the pages of these stories, and almost without exception developed a deep antipathy for them. Their overt arrogance which seemed to mask a great fear of the world 'outside' always made social intercourse with such people strained and unsatisfying. There is nothing like being politely condescended to to make the recipient want to deliberately break convention and strike through the mask. So it's personal.

I have read, and reread, these stories enough to see that Taylor's characters are frequently as frightened of change and the possible corruption of contact outside their little world as I had sensed in the real Taylor-type folk I have met. There is great skill in his presentation of this tension, but it doesn't lead me to empathize, much less sympathize, with his characters.

Any given person's response to a piece of fiction is going to be colored by a host of factors over which the author has no control, and no writer ever had universal success at generating the response he desires the reader to have. In the case of my response to Taylor's stories, I fear that my dislike of the specific milieu (and its inhabitants) that is his chosen subject will forever keep me from a full appreciation of his work.

I have trouble with assessments of great writing that tend to subordinate every concept to setting. We know that Chekhov wrote about the Russian provinces, Cheever wrote about WASPs in New England, William Trevor writes about lower middle-class Ireland, and Faulkner wrote about Mississippi. We also know that Taylor writes about the upper South (not the so-called "Deep South" that some others have mentioned). So what? What many of us realize, but often fail to mention, is that Taylor is writing about the human condition, as all of these great writers have. I'm a firm believer in the notion that the setting is incidental--a product of the world Taylor understood. So, as we can say with Chekhov, Cheever, and Trevor, Taylor writes about people. We appreciate these stories because they are about us, whether we're from Maine, Mississippi, or Maryland. If you have any belief in a universal human condition (whatever that may be), in the truth inherent to archetypal stories about people, you'll find that the setting only serves as the metaphorical framework in which the author works. It's our own problem if we have trouble shedding our regionalism, not Taylor's. Also, this book is not an obituary to the death of any particular culture, but a celebration of life and universal human relationships. How can "The Gift of the Prodigal" be about anything but that? Who would say that "The Gift of the Prodigal" is about Charlottesville, VA? So, by all means read this book. Don't be turned off by its Southern setting or its WASPy characters anymore than you would be turned off by Chekhov's rural Russia.

Eudora Welty was an icon of twentieth century literature. Her work reprinted here is straight out of my literary criticism classes of the sixties. All essays were originally published in the sixties and seventies. This book is useful for the student of literary criticism. It is NOT useful for the student of writing technique, characterization, short stories, plot development, use of place and time.

It is unfortunate that most readers who make their way to this page will be writers for this collection of Eudora Welty's essays on the craft of writing is not just for writers.

Readers, too, will find wisdom and insight here. Wisdom to apply to their own lives. Insight into Welty's other works. That The Modern Library collected them is a gift in and of itself.

Carolyn Howard-Johnson, author of "Harkening"

Anthologies are like boxes of chocolates: some pieces are good, some are excellent, some you might bite and put back, and some just do not interest you. Some pieces appeal to everyone, some do not. The piece that one person rejects may be another's favorite. However, if you are going to find those pieces that suit your taste just right, you must buy the whole box. "The Cry of an Occasion" is just such an assortment, containing work by nineteen writers, all southern. Not every piece will interest every reader equally, but there will probably be a delicious handful for each.

As might be expected of a "southern" anthology, religion, family, sense of place and race are themes that weave through the various stories; however, while some themes may be regional, the scope and treatment of these themes are universal.

"The Encyclopedia Daniel" by Fred Chappell is an odd little story with an Edgar Allen Poe twist. "Feeling Good, Feeling Fine" is a by George Garrett is a quick, broad-stroked vignette of a southern institution - the family relation who isn't quite right. "Sim Denny" is a painful story about an elderly black man who first attempts, unsuccessfully, to ignore the civil rights movement, and then attempts, equally unsuccessfully, to join it. My personal favorite is William Hoffman's examination of family dysfunction, "The Secret Garden" - a tale whose several narrators offer their observations about the central character, while revealing their own roles as enablers.

Such is the variety of this sampler, there should not be any reader who does not find at least several pieces to satisfy his interests.

A family under intense economic pressure is helped, begrudgingly, by a priest and his somewhat dissolute neighbor. Not surprisingly, the novel explores people's response to need. Primarily, though, it is a novel of state of mind: loneliness, desperation, loss of faith, love. It manages to be interesting, without resorting to any facile devices of plot or character to hold the reader. The writing is very good, although if I were Bausch's editor for this book, I would have tried to eliminate some of the descriptive analogies which just don't work, and detract from the force of his simple prose.

I also heard the author speak at the NW bookfest and was looking forward to reading this. Unfortunately, I was disappointed. The Mary Kingsley story is the saving grace, the modern woman's story didn't strike me as authentic or interesting and I found myself skimming those sections. Not horrible, but I cannot recommend it.

I purchased this novel after listening to Richard Bausch's interview with Diane Rehm on NPR. The author sounded so passionate about his work, and I thought the idea of bringing the two parallel stories of fictional Lily and Mary Kingsley together was inspired.
Unfortunately Lily's character is never brought to the same level of wholeness and interest as her historical predecessor. Her cautious, withdrawn, but intelligent personality seems incompatible with the impulsive choices she makes in her personal life. Because she never seemed quite real to me I was unable to take much of an interest in her part of the novel. I appreciated the analogy to "Dallas" that another reviewer brought up, although the characters in the Mississippi story were certainly better drawn than any television series personalities. It's just that they seemed a bit like props designed to move the story forward, not as vibrant personalities in their own right. I think all of the charcters in the modern day story were somehow stilted by the need to tie the two stories together, or by the inherent difficulties involved in creating interesting modern characters who appear to actually belong in our media-anesthetized culture.
The Mary Kingsley story soars, and I was able to finish the book only becuase I was dying to hear the rest her tale. My feeling is that the author, talented as he shows himself to be in the historical aspects of the novel, bit off more than he could chew.

I don't know where to begin. I enjoyed this book so much. I was first attracted to the book because of the premise, two different people, from two different times in history, writing letters to each other, finding this way to express their fears, doubts, and pleasures of life. (Don't worry, this is not science fiction, the letters were a "literary" tool.
I found myself so involved with the people and characters in this book, I thought about them when I was away, looking forward to picking the book back up.I must admit, about half way through, I slowed myself down as I was reading. I am a pretty fast reader, and I find with books and authors I love, I have to force myself to slow down, and make the experience last longer. This is one of those books.
I really can't find the words to explain what it was about this book that touched me so much, or kept me so involved, but Mr. Bausch, thanks for the experience that I had with this book.

"With IN THE NIGHT SEASON, Bausch weds a plot with all the pulse-racing suspense of a popular crime novel to a sensitive limning of two recurrent themes in his recent work: the rivulets causing family love to wander off course and the reaction of ordinary people to extraordinary dangers....Richard Bausch has long been one of the most expert and substantial of our writers. And his talent is long overdue for wider recognition." --Boston Globe

I had read the book of Bausch's short stories and was impressed. However, this novel was absolutely first rate. He manages to hold the tension in the book right up to the epilogue. I love authors who fully develop their characters, and Bausch is a master of that, even in a suspense novel. As a writer I always read with one eye on the craft of the novel.
This was like seeing a movie that had you on the edge of your seat the whole time. I plan to read lots more by this author.

The terrors of "The Night Season" have their source in a vulnerability of modern life. Families broken by death, divorce and infidelity are left exposed to the brutalities that lie in wait "out there." Bausch has written his most compelling plot without sacrificing his extraordinary genius in developing the lives and motivations of characters with whom you grow to understand as deeply as your own self. This novel is as frightening as any Steven King book without the manipulation. This book makes you confront the night season that resides within as well as without.

I was thrilled by "The Fireman's Wife." An absolute masterpiece of a story. Even "The Last Good Time" held me through a rather mundane, magicless world of the over-ordinary with sustained interest..."Violence," on the other hand, drilled in me a hole out through which a lot of my respect for Mr. Bausch leaked. This book plods and plods, wanting to be held up by Bausch's reverence for the common, but with no strength to its pylons. A shame, a shame.

Hi, I'm glad that Richard Bausch is enjoying success! He was my creative writing professor at Northern Virgina Community College approximately 19 years ago and he's come a long, long way! Much luck to you and yours! I have a first edition of Mr. Bausch's first book, REAL PRESENCE, which is autographed -- but, alas, it's lost someone in a stack of boxes and cartons in my mom's home in Florida. Hope to find it someday and re-read! A former student of Richard Bausch -- now, also, a writer!

What happened is right, as another reviewer asked. But what I want to know is why is this book no longer in print? It is one of the best I have read in ages...an excellent treatment of an unfortunately pervasive issue. I read Good Night Mr. & Mrs. America and was less than impressed, but this was great stuff.

This was a terrible book. Multiple authors were not able to successfully make the book flow from chapter to chapter. Character development was disjointed to say the least. Way tooooo much celebrity name dropping...it almost read like People Mag. Buy "The Greatest Player Who Never Lived" instead.

At first I thought this was going to be a serious mystery novel, until I realized that each chapter was written by a different author. It was almost like they were challenging each other, coming up with situations that were more and more ridiculous. I found myself laughing out loud. I should have known something was up when I saw that Dave Barry was one of the writers. It's a great book for those who like golf and for those, like me, that have never swung a club.

It is said that a camel is a horse designed by a committee. Since a camel is very efficient doing what camels are intended to do, then the remark must mean that a camel is a very funny looking horse. Well, in The Putt at the End of the World, a committee of nine individually popular writers has turned out a very funny golf story.
The Putt at the End of the World is apparently the brainchild of last-listed author Les Standiford, shown as editor and compiler. It also seems to be a salute, at least in part, to recently deceased British writer Douglas Adams, author of the Hitchhikers' Guide to the Galaxy series which includes The Restaurant at the End of the Universe. It is certainly reminiscent of Adam's work, with zany characters interacting amidst nefarious schemes, all centered around a golf tournament. But not just any golf tournament. Computer zillionaire Philip Bates has bought a Scottish castle and cleared original growth timber to construct the ultimate golf course-as well as rehabbing the castle into an exotic hideaway retreat. This infuriates both environmental terrorists and the last of the MacLout clan, who claims that the MacGregor sellers usurped his family's claim to the property and he should have gotten the money. Then Bates (no relation to this reviewer) scheduled a conference and golf tournament inviting all of the world's political leaders and top golf players.
One of the invitees is Billy Sprague, club pro from Squat Possum Golf Club in rural Ohio. Billy is a magnificent golfer, unless there is money involved in which case he can't even get the ball of the tee. Billy's mentor is the old retired family doctor whose life is golf, who build the Squat Possum Club and who dies immediately after giving Billy his invitation and telling him that he has to go to Scotland and play in order to lift the curse and "...save the world as we know it..." Then FBI and British Secret Service refugees from the Keystone Kops get involved because of the terrorist threat, and the rest is-not history, but hilarious.
Each of the nine authors wrote one of the chapters. They did a good job matching styles, and/or Standiford did a great job of editing, because the novel is seamless. It is a farce, but at the same time has a "Bagger Vance" note of paean to the wonder of golf. It reads fast, and it reads great.