Ambrose Bierce, I think, is an underrated American writer. He has a little renown for his "Devil’s Dictionary," packed with of scathing definitions, such as Cynic: (n.) A blackguard whose faulty vision sees things as they are, not as they ought to be. Hence the custom among the Scythians of plucking out a cynic's eyes to improve his vision; and Marriage: (n.) A household consisting of a master, a mistress, and two slaves, making in all, two.
Bierce was a newspaperman and notorious columnist in San Francisco for two decades, including 12 years for William Randolph Hearst’s San Francisco Examiner. But he was also the author of a number of first-rate short stories, especially his stories based on his experiences in the American Civil War. His “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge,” originally published by the San Francisco Examiner in 1890, would rate on my Top Five list of best American short stories. Rod Serling liked the story so much that he bought a one-hour movie version of it to use as a 1964 episode of the TV series "The Twilight Zone."
Published in 2000, "Tales of Soldiers and Civilians and Other Stories" consists of 35 of his best short stories, including 13 Civil War stories, and the essay “The Short Story.” “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” is the second story in this collection. Other Civil War stories such as “Chickamauga,” “One of the Missing,” and “The Affair at Coulter’s Notch” are also superb.
While Bierce’s Civil War tales are justly renowned, he also wrote short stories about California, where he spent most of his adult life. This opening passage – from “The Night Doings at ‘Deadman’s’” – caught my eye:
“It was a singularly sharp night, and clear as the heart of a diamond. Clear nights have a trick of being keen. In darkness you may be cold and not know it; when you see, you suffer. This night was bright enough to bite like a serpent. The moon was moving mysteriously along behind the giant pines crowning the South Mountain, striking a cold sparkle from the crusted snow, and bringing out against the black west the ghostly outlines of the Coast Range, beyond which lay the invisible Pacific. The snow had piled itself, in the open spaces along the bottom of the gulch, into long ridges that seemed to heave, and into hills that appeared to toss and scatter spray. The spray was sunlight, twice reflected: dashed once from the moon, once from the snow.”
The book also includes an excellent 20-page introduction by Tom Quirk, professor of English at the University of Missouri-Columbia, which looks at Bierce’s life, literary production, and his mysterious disappearance in 1912 in Mexico. When, where, or why Bierce died is to this day not known.