What do you think?
Rate this book
Crow Time
In these well crafted stories a range of vision from postmodern to Gothic exposes a startling and, at times, disturbing reality underlying the familiar. In Crow Time women are independent, enterprising, and mostly indestructible. Along with their men and children they meet the challenge of a shifting, tricky world where there are no victims, but where, just as the continents are unstable, all that is beloved is unpredictable. In these tales love is almost always startling - as startling as love of music, as cabbages, as Christ. As in her previous collection, Nectar at Noon, her characters, as Nina Sonenberg wrote in the New York Times, "reach back for transcendence and even touch it, but it's squeezed back into daily life." But in Crow Time the characters are fierce, resilient survivors who, because of their inner visions, withstand everyday mediocrities.
250 pages, Paperback
First published April 1, 1995
7 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 of 1 review
April 25, 2020
Stone
Out of fire and ice I came into the world, a stone.
One day I stuck my brother in anger and fled into the wilderness.
Discovered by stone people, I was venerated as a sacred talisman possessed of magic powers. Worshipped, anointed with blood, I grew powerful.
After a period of glacial and volcanic violence, the world emerged from darkness. In the new spring light I was found in a marble quarry by a sculptor.
He loved me and said, "You are beautiful. I will cut away the coarse exterior and reveal your soul."
Of course, in the eyes and hands of any artist all materials: wood, clay, iron, have lovely souls.
I have a stone soul. It quickened at his touch but before he could reveal it he was struck down, killed by my blow.
I am not beautiful. He was my brother.
Out of fire and ice I came into the world, a stone.
One day I stuck my brother in anger and fled into the wilderness.
Discovered by stone people, I was venerated as a sacred talisman possessed of magic powers. Worshipped, anointed with blood, I grew powerful.
After a period of glacial and volcanic violence, the world emerged from darkness. In the new spring light I was found in a marble quarry by a sculptor.
He loved me and said, "You are beautiful. I will cut away the coarse exterior and reveal your soul."
Of course, in the eyes and hands of any artist all materials: wood, clay, iron, have lovely souls.
I have a stone soul. It quickened at his touch but before he could reveal it he was struck down, killed by my blow.
I am not beautiful. He was my brother.
Displaying 1 of 1 review