Oh, what can you do with a man like that? What can you do? How can you dissuade his eye in a crowd from seeking out the cheek with acne, the infirm hand; how can you teach him to respond to the inestimable greatness of the race, the harsh surface beauty of life; how can you put his finger for him on the obdurate truths before which fear and horror are powerless? The sea that morning was iridescent and dark. My wife and my sister were swimming - Diana and Helen - and I saw their uncovered heads, black and gold in the dark water. I saw them come out and I saw that they were naked, unshy, beautiful, and full of grace, and I watched the naked women walk out of the sea.
This is among the most beautiful ends of any short story, especially how Cheever shows us that the historical/classical/pagan triumphs over the Puritan/abnegatory/christian with a lower case "c." The rebirth of the women as goddesses here is beautifully done. (Note their classical names). Despite all the classical references in "Goodbye, My Brother," this is essentially a retelling of Cain and Abel--one for the ages, and probably my favorite of Cheever's stories.
Happy Birthday, Mr. Cheever. We're still reading and admiring your work.
6 comments:
I love all of Cheever's stories, but this is maybe my favorite, although it's hard to point to just one and say, you, you are my favorite when considering Cheever's work.
The first time I read it, I felt such a sense of satisfaction. I felt complete. It resolved a lot of the bad feelings I'd felt for years without my having to actually pick up a piece of wood and bludgeon a family member over the head with it.
This story released me.
Thanks for posting the end here. This last passage has always pleased me.
I'll have to read some Cheever tonight. "The Swimmer" perphaps. Or, "The Five-Forty-Eight."
Or what's the one about the guy who'd hurdle over the furniture at parties? His wife ends up accidentally shooting him in the final scene?
Ah, geez, I love love love love love Cheever.
Ever see "The Swimmer" with Burt Lancaster? Hell of a movie.
I wonder if any of Cheever's other work made it onto film.
It released me, too, as I have actually looked for
I think it's "The Country Husband" where she shoots him with a starter/blanks gun.
I agree with you about "The Swimmer," and I'm not usually a B. Lancaster fan. I thought once there was going to be a movie of Falconer, but I don't think it ever went into production. Maybe PBS has done another story...I will have to check IMDB.
I think I'll read "The Enormous Radio."
Missing word in the first paragraph is "rocks." Sorry about that.
Missing word in the first paragraph is "rocks." Sorry about that.
Did he write the story about the family that goes on the skiing vacation and the daughter ends up getting caught up in the rope of the whatever the hell you call that pulley thingamajig that pulls you up the slopes and kills her? Or was that Updike.
Oh, I'm definitely reading Cheever before bedtime tonight. And probably for some nights to come.
Which is partially why I love his work so much. No matter how familiar I am with any of his stories, they still manage to surprise me when I reread them.
I just noticed the photo above this post. Heck of a photograph. His hands hanging there, the black socks, the dog waiting for his vacant master at the top of the steps. I might write a poem about it.
Jesus christ you misunderstood the story, way to bring in your own agenda though - completely transparent. They aren't goddesses - he's (the narrator) been cuckolded by his own sister.
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