Title: A fruitless, frustrating read.
Review: I am sorry to say that I have tried several times to read that book, recommended by an excellent writer friend of mine, and simply failed to finish it every time. My dislike of Raymond Carver(like my dislike for New York) feels to me like a shortcoming but there you have it. There are no points to Carver's stories and I find it infinitely arid and unrewarding to read short pointless stories with no aim. Lack of resolution you call it? To me, it goes against the very appeal of reading. I can't remember the stories, I can't remember the characters and I don't care. Doesn't that mean that Carver fails somewhere? Why do we read if not to be entertained, moved, to learn something, to travel to another universe? I'm a lifelong reader, but the supposed wonders of Mr. Carver fly way over my head.
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