Yüzücü

by John Cheever, Tomris Uyar (Translator)

Amerika'nın Çehov'u olarak anılan John Cheever, henüz hayattayken klasikleşmiş isimlerden biri. Yeri geldiğinde "küçük" insanı, yeri geldiğinde insanın "küçük" gördüklerini ironik bir dille ele alan Cheever, Tomris Uyar'in ifadesiyle, "Başkalarına alabildiğine hoşgörüyle bakan, kendini sürekli hırpalayan, bu iki eğilimi arasında belki yalnızca yazıları aracılığıyla köprü kurabileceğini uman bir yazar. Kendisi ister trenlerde, ister vapurlarda, ister uçaklarda yol alsın, ufkunun gitgide daraldığını kavrayan bir Yüzücü."

Cheever'ın derlediği Toplu Öyküleri'nin ilk cildi olan Yüzücü, radyoların kulak misafirliği yapmanızı sağladığı, mutlu ailelerde mutlaka bityeniğinin arandığı ve aşkın geometrik hesaplara dönüştüğü bir dünyaya açılan bir kapı niteliğinde. Okurlara Cheever'ın bu özel dünyasında Tomris Uyar'ın eşsiz çevirisi eşlik ediyor. Yüzücü, edebiyat severlerin raflarından eksik etmemesi gereken bir Öykü kitabı.

Genres: Short Stories, Fiction, Classics, School, Literature, American, The United States Of America

149 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1964

About the author

John Cheever was an American novelist and short story writer, sometimes called "the Chekhov of the suburbs" or "the Ovid of Ossining." His fiction is mostly set in the Upper East Side of Manhattan, the suburbs of Westchester, New York, and old New England villages based on various South Shore towns around Quincy, Massachusetts, where he was born.

His main themes include the duality of human nature: sometimes dramatized as the disparity between a character's decorous social persona and inner corruption, and sometimes as a conflict between two characters (often brothers) who embody the salient aspects of both--light and dark, flesh and spirit. Many of his works also express a nostalgia for a vanishing way of life, characterized by abiding cultural traditions and a profound sense of community, as opposed to the alienating nomadism of modern suburbia.

Reviews

[Gaurav Sagar · Rating 4 out of 5]

How often does it happen in life that pursuits you undertake in real life surreptitiously sneak in through your literary refuges. I have recently taken up swimming as an avocation for the very first time in my life and as happens in life things look quite enticing when they offer their first encounter. It looks magical to me when I throw and fling my arms above and through the layers of water it feels as if I am flying over water stream, of course I know the science behind it and buoyancy force but even then things looks magical when you go through them (and of course may be dull and arduous as well at times) and perhaps we live for these petty seemingly senseless and irrational moments but having a dash of magic. And probably these very purportedly insignificant occasions, time and again, make us realize that life is worth living.




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The little beauty by John Cheever- The Swimmers came to my fold by a happy coincidence, perhaps its title allured and committed me to it. I started it with moderate (or perhaps low) expectations as at the outset it appeared to be an expedition of a middle-aged man who was looking for some distraction to get away from the onerous and mundane existential ordeals of middle age. He appeared to be on the brink of mid-life crisis as quite a few of us must have gone through or gone through or yet to, but as one gradually traverses the pool after the pool through the lines and words of the story, one realized it is much more than that.


The story starts with Neddy Merrill, a middle-aged American man, takes a flight on whims and fancies and decides to swim home though a string of swimming pools, that quasi-subterranean stream that curved across the county. His heart throbs with beat of excitement and a seemingly exuberant idea to name the stream of pools as Lucinda River after his life wife, pops up in his mind. The day was beautiful, and it seemed to him that a long swim might enlarge and celebrate its beauty. What appears to be a journey full of exhilaration and childlike passion gradually unravels its various shades and therein it starts enthralling me through the various crests and troughs of life Neddy passes through as he moves in along the variegated pools of life. Over the course of eight miles the story takes you through various facets of life, having tinge of beauty and sadness.





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While some of the friends would line up the banks of the Lucinda River and would receive him gleefully but others may not behave and appear the way he imagined initially. The spiritual expedition, which starts with utter optimism, slowly makes Neddy swim through cold waters which perhaps imitates the deterioration of life. The decline of youth and vigor echoes the denial and emptiness of suburban life through the journey of Neddy. Though it may appear, through the changing colors of the pools, that story is about midlife crisis wherein you question the very facts or premise on which you carve out your existence but on careful examination, it comes out to be more than that.

As we swim with Neddy through the turbulent waters of Lucinda River, we realize that the aquatic journey reflects the declining social status of Neddy, the decaying of community and life in general. One may feel that though the mood of the narrative has been kept playful throughout the story but there are some clues of forthcoming bouts of anxiety and fear. And the protagonist, Neddy, finds himself unable to turn back even though he gets sufficient hints of probable futility of his grand journey and even get mocked by people for his decision full of passion, perhaps because it reflects the nature of life as time is unidirectional and irreversible or perhaps the shame of self-criticism engulfs his consciousness. The author wants the reader to play an active role by participating in the narrative and fills in the gaps by identifying these clues somewhat like Hemingway though it may not be accounted as a typical example of minimalism.





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Though story describes the account of an afternoon, but it mimics a lifetime in it by mirroring the various facets of life. It traverses through the uncertainty of life and takes us through emptiness and denial of suburban life and the decline of a wealthy man. The story shreds off the façade of a rich life and takes us to the underlying horrific emptiness of life wherein not only the physical strength but even the mental state and memory of Neddy betray him, and he finds himself amidst the utter chaos and dismay of life, a state of ruin and delusion. The voyage from unguarded optimism to deep recesses of darkness of humanity leaves the reader pondering upon what has elapsed over the course of just twelve odd pages.

[Adina ( on a short Hiatus) · Rating 4 out of 5]

An excellent short story from John Cheever which i read for Short Story Club.

One guy decides to swim home from a friend's pool party, traveling from swimming pool to swimming pool. The neighbors he meets are friendly at the beginning but the attitude changes as he advances in his endeavor. They start to tell him how they are sorry about his misfortunes, which confuses the swimmer more and more. The ending is quite surprising.

I suppose the story is an allegory about status and the difficulty to continue after losing it. It is also a story about aging and alcoholism.

[Vit Babenco · Rating 5 out of 5]

John Cheever is an unarguable master of short stories and an incomparable singer of suburbs. The Swimmer is probably his best, my favourite for sure and one of the best ever.
To write this review I specially reread the story for the fourth time.
It all began one fine summer day:

It was one of those midsummer Sundays when everyone sits around saying, ‘I drank too much last night.’ You might have heard it whispered by the parishioners leaving church, heard it from the lips of the priest himself, struggling with his cassock in the vestiarium, heard it from the golf links and the tennis courts, heard it from the wildlife preserve where the leader of the Audubon group was suffering from a terrible hangover.

And a hero of the tale is a valiant man:

He might have been compared to a summer’s day, particularly the last hours of one, and while he lacked a tennis racket or a sail bag the impression was definitely one of youth, sport, and clement weather.

Just for fun of it he decides to take a journey, using the pools of neighbourhood, swimming home. But something in this seemingly joyful trip goes awry…

Going out onto the dark lawn he smelled chrysanthemums or marigolds – some stubborn autumnal fragrance – on the night air, strong as gas. Looking overhead he saw that the stars had come out, but why should he seem to see Andromeda, Cepheus, and Cassiopeia? What had become of the constellations of midsummer? He began to cry.

How many persons in this world after embarking on the pleasurable journey of their life in the end, looking back, can see nothing but the emptiness of the wasted away years?

[J.L. Sutton · Rating 4 out of 5]

“He seemed to see, with a cartographer's eye, that string of swimming pools”



If you were to read the summary of John Cheever’s “The Swimmer,” it might not seem very interesting. In our tale of suburbia, the protagonist, Neddy Merrill decides to take an 8-mile journey home using swimming pools. This absurd quest is much more than it appears. While Neddy styles himself a legendary figure and modern day adventurer, his perspective is repeatedly challenged when he pulls himself out of each swimming pool.

“The Swimmer” reminded me of Albert Camus’ The Happy Death. The protagonists are both reaching into the unknown for something that transcends their day-to-day life. The narrator of The Happy Death is able to achieve his goal; however, for Neddy, it is outside of his grasp. Despite casual conversation and sociable drinks at this pool or that, he is losing something of himself that he can’t pin down. It is only at the end of the journey that Cheever fully reveals what he has lost. Loved the ending! 4.5 stars

[Cecily · Rating 4 out of 5]

Review of The Swimmer, one of his most famous and anthologised stories.
This short story is set on a summer Sunday and starts with gaiety (a word rarely used now, but it seems fitting here) and boastful embarrassment about drinking too much the night before. They’re a wealthy set, chatting around a pool: golf links and tennis are mentioned, along with the environmental Audubon group.

Neddy Merrill is pushing middle age, but gives the impression of “youth, sport, and clement weather”. He has the idea of swimming home (eight miles) via a daisy chain of pools he dubs the Lucinda River.
“He was not a practical joker nor was he a fool but he was determinedly original and had a vague and modest idea of himself as a legendary figure… Making his way home by an uncommon route gave him the feeling that he was a pilgrim, an explorer, a man with a destiny, and he knew that he would find friends all along the way.”


Image: Portrait of an Artist (Pool with Two Figures) by David Hockney. Not New York State, and painted eleven years after this story was published. (Source)

Some welcome him, some are away or don’t notice him, others are mid-party, and a few are hostile.

As his journey progresses, time condenses, the mood becomes autumnal, and the story feels slippery and a tad surreal.
“Ned felt a passing affection for the scene, a tenderness for the gathering, as if it was something he might touch.”
Then it becomes more disquieting and tragic. It's a brilliant and subtle segue, planting doubts in Ned's mind and thus the reader's. It’s a neat way to satirise the superficiality of rich suburbanites and the tragic consequences of excess. Along the way, there’s exploration of class, etiquette, and exclusion: who knows what, and who chooses not to.
“His was a world in which the caterer’s men kept the social score.”

The owners and their pools

Neddy's quest has parallels with journeys in myth and literature, reflected in different waters and even the names of their owners. It's deep, especially on a second reading.

This section is for reference and doesn't contain plot spoilers.

1. Westerhazy: “The pool, fed by an artesian well with a high iron content, was a pale shade of green.”
2. Graham: Has a pump and filter in a shed.
3. Hammer: Roses nearby.
4. Lear
5. Howland
6. Crosscup
7. Bunker: Up some steps, on a terrace, with “sapphire-colored waters”.
8. Levy: Owners recently left, with glasses, bottles, and nuts still out by the pool, which has a gazebo with Japanese lanterns. There’s a storm.
9. Welcher: Empty pool and pool furniture stacked and covered in a tarpaulin.
10. A public pool: Loud, crowded, regimented. “It stank of chlorine and looked to him like a sink. A pair of lifeguards in a pair of towers blew police whistles… [he] thought that he might contaminate himself - damage his own prosperousness and charm - by swimming in this murk, but he reminded himself that he was an explorer, a pilgrim, and that this was merely a stagnant bend in the Lucinda River.”
11. Halloran: Old, wealthy, nudist couple, suspected of being Communists because they’re zealous reformers. “Their pool was perhaps the oldest in the country, a fieldstone rectangle, fed by a brook. It had no filter or pump and its waters were the opaque gold of the stream.”
12. Sachs: Small, cold pool.
13. Biswanger: “No one was swimming and the twilight, reflected on the water of the pool, had a wintry gleam.”
14. Shirley Adams: “The lighted, cerulean water.”
15. Gilmartin: Icy water.
16. Clyde



Image: An empty pool (Source)

Quotes

• “The water refracted the sound of voices and laughter and seemed to suspend it in midair.”

• “Why did he love storms, what was the meaning of his excitement when the door sprang open and the rain wind fled rudely up the stairs… why did the first watery notes of a storm wind have for him the unmistakable sound of good news, cheer, glad tidings?”

• “They were always rebuffed and yet they continued to send out their invitations, unwilling to comprehend the rigid and undemocratic realities of their society. They were the sort of people who discussed the price of things at cocktails, exchanged market tips during dinner, and after dinner told dirty stories to mixed company.”

See also

• Inevitably, one thinks of Fitzgerald, specifically:
The Great Gatsby (see my review HERE) and
Babylon Revisited (see my review HERE).
• And Rules of Civility by Amor Towles (see my review HERE).

• The story was published in The New Yorker in 1964. That fits the people and setting.

• It was made into a feature film in 1968, starring Burt Lancaster. It necessarily added characters and scenes, though it omitted others. Doubts are sown earlier and there are fewer pools, both of which are OK, but the pools are in a different order for no obvious reason (the elderly nudists are well before the public pool, rather than immediately after, for example). The only aspect I didn't like was that Neddy was accompanied for part of the swim, which changes the nature of the journey. Whereas the original story has a timeless quality, the film is very much of its time - though it does portray the accelerated seasons. The trailer ends with the question, “When you talk about The Swimmer, will you talk about yourself?” You can watch it on the imdb page, HERE.

Short story club

I read this as one of the stories in The Art of the Short Story, by Dana Gioia, from which I'm aiming to read one story a week with The Short Story Club, starting 2 May 2022.

You can read this story here.

You can join the group here.

[James · Rating 3 out of 5]

Note, below are random notes from a college course I took twenty years ago. Not meant as a formal traditional review. Some day I will reread it and write a stronger one.

Book Review
3 of 5 stars to The Swimmer, a short story written in 1964 by John Cheever. Why on Earth would a man want to swim from one end of a county to the other? There would have to be something wrong with him to even want to accomplish something like that! Yet, Neddy Merrill, a character in John Cheever’s short story “The Swimmer”, wanted to do it, which obviously shows that there was something wrong with him. Neddy planned on jumping from pool to pool as though he was really swimming in the Lucinda. He also wished that he could do his marathon without his trunks on. Neddy was crazy and needed help. However, one has to have some admiration for the man because he achieved his goal of swimming the county. One also has to feel sympathy for a man who no longer has his job, money, wife, and daughters. Neddy Merrill may have his faults, but he also has several reputable qualities.

From the beginning of the work, Neddy Merrill had been drinking and crashing parties at several neighbor’s homes. Every time that he reached a new house he jumped in their pool, swam laps, drank, and had short conversations. Neddy encounters several interesting people and was always in a rush to leave. When he finally finished half of the river, he had arrived on the doorstep of the Hallorans, who were an extremely rich, elderly couple that basked in nakedness. Neddy got his wish from before when he wanted to make his swim without his trunks.
However, the couple then expressed their sorrow for Neddy’s misfortunes (losing the house and his children). Neddy, however, had no idea what was going on and he got up and left. Similarly, Neddy goes on to stop at his ex-mistress’s home. He knew that she would give him a drink and comfort. When he arrived, he suddenly could not remember whether he and the woman broke off their affair a day before, a month before, or even a year before. He did not appear to know what was going on around him or maybe he was living in the past. Nevertheless, he was having delusions again.

However, near the end, he was so weak that he was forced to go against his beliefs. He had lost his strength and was slowly dying. Yet, he made it to his house where he found himself in another shock and state of confusion. The door was locked, his family was gone, and the house was empty. He had no clue what was going on; Neddy was delusional, yet again.

Besides all of the evidence that made Neddy look crazy, there was the route that led him to those actions. It seemed as though while Neddy was trying swim the entire county on the Lucinda River, he was really trying to recapture his wife Lucinda. His quest really was not to swim in all the pools, but to win back his wife. Deep inside him, he was a lonely, confused, and scared man who probably knew that he had lost his money, wife, and family. He did not want to accept that and so he did anything he could to retrieve his lost belongings. Neddy did swim the whole county, but when he got home, he hadn’t reclaimed his family and money. He was still the same old guy, but now he had swum the county. There appeared to be no change in him. Or, does he now realize his surroundings? Is he know longer crazy? I wonder...

About Me
For those new to me or my reviews... here's the scoop: I read A LOT. I write A LOT. And now I blog A LOT. First the book review goes on Goodreads, and then I send it on over to my WordPress blog at https://thisismytruthnow.com, where you'll also find TV & Film reviews, the revealing and introspective 365 Daily Challenge and lots of blogging about places I've visited all over the world. And you can find all my social media profiles to get the details on the who/what/when/where and my pictures. Leave a comment and let me know what you think. Vote in the poll and ratings. Thanks for stopping by. Note: All written content is my original creation and copyrighted to me, but the graphics and images were linked from other sites and belong to them. Many thanks to their original creators.

[Mark Porton · Rating 4 out of 5]

This review contains spoliers

The Swimmer a short story by John Cheever, starts with Ned, as he and his wife Lucinda sit at the side of their friends – the Westerhazys – swimming pool, recovering from hangovers. Ned decides he would like to journey home by swimming through neighbourhood swimming pools (14 in all) – an exploration across the county if you like. He sets out with energy, optimism, and vigour.

It's summer, the day is bright and sunny. As Ned proceeds through each pool, he is greeted with surprise and affection. It seems Ned is a popular man about town, well known – liked. It’s a Sunday afternoon – there are social gatherings at the houses, he is even offered drinks. Once done, he pulls himself away to run to the next pool.

However, this summer-time romp seems to turn after he crosses a main highway. This crossing takes considerable time and Ned is abused by drivers, some even throw cans and rubbish at him. The weather becomes less ‘summery,’ a bit cooler. The owners of the pools aren’t as welcoming as the first half of his journey. In fact, he is greeted with abject hostility. The Biswangers, are downright rude to Ned, this is a couple who regularly invite Ned and his wife to social gatherings, only to be ignored. Another, pool belongs to an ex-lover of Ned – she is certainly not happy to see him.

It's also apparent that Ned, is becoming weaker as his odyssey continues. He overhears conversations about the ‘sad news’ about he and his wife, and the children. His memory also seems to be slipping. This final part as he approaches his home, is bleak.

When Ned reaches home, his house is unkept, neglected and empty.

It’s clear, his real story, although not identified explicitly in this story – is one of significant misfortune. It appears Ned had tried to ignore this, but as with all states of denial, the real issue goes nowhere.

This story gave me pause for thought. I was happy at the start, excited even – only to be thrown to the floor and kicked in the guts. A powerful piece of writing, Cheever achieved so much here, in so few pages.

4 Stars

[. . . _ _ _ . . . · Rating 5 out of 5]

Θεωρείται από τους καλύτερους Αμερικάνους διηγηματογράφους και όχι άδικα : σχεδόν όλα τα διηγήματά του δεν είναι απλά μια ματιά στην αλά American Beauty ζωή των suburbs (όχι τυχαία έχει ονομαστεί "Τσέχοφ των προαστίων") αλλά είναι ένα μελαγχολικό βλέμμα του συμβιβασμού πίσω από τα ακριβά σπίτια με τους εργαζόμενους άντρες που πηγαίνουν στη Νέα Υόρκη με το τραίνο και τις άψογες συζύγους τους που ασχολούνται με φιλανθρωπίες πίσω στο σπίτι.
Μια συλλογή 9 διηγημάτων για πρώτη φορά στα ελληνικά που δεν περιλαμβάνει μόνο τα αρχετυπικά του έργα (ο σουρεαλιστικός και θλιμμένος "Κολυμβητής", "Ο διαρρήκτης του Σέιντυ Χιλ" και "Ο εξοχικός σύζυγος") που παίζουν με την έννοια της αμαρτίας, τη μοναξιά, την παραίτηση και τον πειρασμό στα καλοβαλμένα προάστια, αλλά μεταξύ άλλων περιλαμβάνονται και πρώιμα διηγήματα του Τσίβερ, όπως το απόκοσμο "Καψουροτράγουδο", το στα όρια του μεγαλοαστικού sci-fi αριστουργηματικό "Το τεράστιο ραδιόφωνο" (που ταυτόχρονα "προβλέπει" με ανατριχιαστικό τρόπο τα σημερινά ριάλιτυ το 1953 !), το καλύτερο Χριστουγεννιάτικο διήγημα έβερ "Τα Χριστούγεννα είναι μια μελαγχολική περίοδος για τους φτωχούς", ή μια θλιμμένη παραβολή για επαρχιώτες που ονειρεύονται μάταια να ζήσουν τη μεγάλη ζωή στη μεγάλη πόλη ("Ω πόλη των τσακισμένων ονείρων"), ενώ η συλλογή συμπληρώνεται με άλλα δύο διηγήματα αστικής μοναξιάς, απελπισμένου έρωτα και απιστίας ("Μονάχα πες μου ποιος ήταν" και "Το τρένο των πέντε και σαράντα οκτώ").
Ένα μικρό διαμάντι. Μακάρι να ακολουθήσουν και τα άλλα διηγήματα του Τσίβερ στα ελληνικά.

[Diane · Rating 5 out of 5]

Amazing short story! "The Swimmer" is less than 10 pages, but it is incredibly powerful. The description of Neddy's attempt to swim home after a bout of heavy drinking was beautifully surreal. Highly recommended.

Favorite Quotes
"He was not a practical joker nor was he a fool but he was determinedly original and had a vague and modest idea of himself as a legendary figure."

"Was his memory failing or had he so disciplined it in the repression of unpleasant facts that he had damaged his sense of the truth?"

[piperitapitta · Rating 4 out of 5]

Stile Libero

Gli altri due racconti sono belli, anche se sono sicura che sia necessario immergersi più a lungo fra le parole di John Cheever per riuscire a indovinarne il mood e a ottenere soddisfazione piena dalla sua cifra stilistica.
Ma Il nuotatore.



Non so come si possa descrivere in Letteratura, né come sia stato girato nel 1968 il film con Burt Lancaster, ma quello che rende questo racconto un gioiello, al di là della nitidezza con cui rappresenta lo spaccato borghese che racconta - che è quello della provincia yatesiana fatta di villette a schiera e piscine poste l'una accanto all'altra con una precisione geometrica degna della migliore scuola di Lego - e con il quale mette a nudo non solo l'uomo, ma anche l'ambiente sociale, quello che è il vero valore aggiunto, dicevo, è lo stile: Cheever è riuscito a realizzare un lungo e unico piano sequenza fatto di parole che accompagna il lettore durante tutto il racconto.
Ecco, non so se questo fosse stato già fatto da qualcun altro, o se Cheever stesso l'avesse già provato o l'abbia mai più replicato, e non so nemmeno se esistano altri esempi e altri autori che l'abbiano realizzato, so solo che questo è prodigioso, davvero: leggerlo per vederlo, e poi cercare il film.
E poi, magari, rileggerlo e procurarsi altri racconti, che non siamo quelli (deludenti) che avevano già letto io (Il rumore della pioggia a Roma - che poi lo sanno tutti che a Roma piove una settimana all'anno).
Richard Yates, John Cheever, Andre Dubus (senza dimenticare Allan Gurganus): questo filo invisibile, di amicizia, rispetto e devozione, di scrittura creativa e arte del racconto, che lega gli uni agli altri, che racconta l'America e le sue ipocrisie e le sue contraddizioni fatte di debolezze e sogniamericani disattesi, mi sta portando inesorabilmente, io che ancora non senza una punta di snobismo dichiaro di non averlo ancora mai letto (se si fa eccezione per un unico racconto in cui mi sono trovata a comparare il pre e il post editing di Gordon Lish), diritta fra le braccia di Raymond Carver.
A parlare d'amore, forse, oppure solo di Letteratura.

[PattyMacDotComma · Rating 5 out of 5]

5★
“Making his way home by an uncommon route gave him the feeling that he was a pilgrim, an explorer, a man with a destiny, and he knew that he would find friends all along the way; friends would line the banks of the Lucinda River.”

Short, but so full of story, suggested and unspoken, that by the end, you know what must have happened, you just aren’t sure of the details. First published in ‘The New Yorker’ in 1964, it has become something of a classic.

Ned is with friends in suburban New York, having a drink by their pool, when he thinks of all the friends and pools he knows between this house and his own. He maps it out in his head, this river of pools to his and Lucinda’s home, and he decides to swim the ‘Lucinda River’.

He includes a local public pool to fill a gap, and he has to jog between places, clambering through hedges, climbing fences, and dodging traffic. He’s a bit nervous about being seen on the road, dressed – or rather undressed – as he is.

At the homes, he gets varied receptions, some of which puzzle him, and they begin to puzzle us. He’s obviously a well-known man of means. Eventually, he finds himself at the pool of friends whose invitations he and Lucinda never accept.

They were “unwilling to comprehend the rigid and undemocratic realities of their society…
They did not belong to Neddy’s set—they were not even on Lucinda’s Christmas-card list.”

Why on earth is he there, then?

It’s such a short story, but it suggests so much that I’ve always remembered it. It also offered enough scope for a full-length film with Burt Lancaster a few years later. I remember that, too. (They may have added a character or two.)
https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0063663/...

I suggest you read Roger Ebert’s review of the film. There are no spoilers of the story, but Roger’s descriptions are always great. (Disclaimer: personal friend)
https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/th...

Thanks to the Short Story Club group for this one. If you like stories, join and have a look.
https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...

Here are the links to download a PDF of the story online, and to the original ‘New Yorker’ publication.

https://loa-shared.s3.amazonaws.com/s...

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/19...

[Carol She's So Novel꧁꧂ · Rating 5 out of 5]

The apparent premise of this wonderful short story is a simple one.

Middle aged Neddy has been to a boozy party & appears to have stayed overnight. The next morning he decides to travel home swimming from pool to pool.

I actually thought this sounded like fun. Something from an earlier time when we all knew our neighbours & you could just simply turn up unannounced & dive into their pool. But it turns out that Neddy is on more than one type of journey...

I loved this tautly told story which was well written & well observed.

Read here;
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/19...

https://wordpress.com/view/carolshess...

[Annetius · Rating 5 out of 5]

Παρακαλώ, βολευτείτε στη χουχουλιάρικη πολυθρόνα σας και κλείστε τα μάτια. Φανταστείτε ότι εισέρχεστε μέσα σε ένα αμερικανικό σπιτικό, από αυτά που ζηλεύουμε στις ταινίες στα κρυφά και στα φανερά, με στρωμένα τα χάλια, στολισμένο το πανέμορφο φυσικό έλατο γεμάτο με πολύχρωμα λαμπιόνια. Το τζάκι τριζοβολά και τα παιδιά παίζουν τριγύρω στο πεντακάθαρο γυαλιστερό πάτωμα με ξύλινα παιχνίδια. Το τραπέζι είναι στρωμένο και μυρίζει οικογενειακή θαλπωρή και ευτυχία.

Κάντε τώρα unboxing και πάρτε θρυμματισμένο το όνειρο και τον μαγικό αδυσώπητο ρεαλισμό του Τσίβερ.

Έξοχα ειπωμένες ιστορίες, τώρα που πέφτουν τα φύλλα και μαζί με αυτά και μια απροσδιόριστη μελαγχολία στο μέσα μας.

[Mahtab Safdari · Rating 4 out of 5]

"The Swimmer” is a short story about Neddy, a wealthy man who decides to swim home through the pools of his neighbors. The story, a blend of realism and surrealism, is a powerful exploration of the human condition and the search for meaning in a superficial world.
Neddy's journey is a metaphor for his denial of aging, loss, and the failure of his relationships and social standing. He clings to a nostalgic fantasy of his past, refusing to acknowledge the reality of his present.
The pools, the weather, the changing seasons, and the neighbors' reactions all serve as symbolic representations of Neddy's internal state and the passage of time.
Cheever employs allusions to Homer's Odyssey and the myth of Narcissus to enhance the story's themes and to underscore the protagonist's self-absorbed journey. The Swimmer is filled with irony, particularly situational irony, as Neddy's heroic swim is contrasted with his growing isolation and the harsh realities he encounters. Though initially presented as a vibrant and successful man, Neddy's character deteriorates throughout the story, culminating in his realization of his lost life and the emptiness of his world.
The ambiguous and unsettling ending, with Neddy pounding on his empty house, emphasizes the finality of his decline and the futility of his quest.

[Enrique · Rating 5 out of 5]

El nadador, John Cheever.
Relectura Top 10 mejores cuentos. 1/10 (no siguen orden).

Relato super condensado y bueno. Si de por si Cheever es el rey de las omisiones en los relatos, aquí aún se supera y nos deja a los lectores con un palmo de narices, en nuestro mundo de elucubraciones, composiciones del relato y suposiciones de lo que hay detrás de este monumental fracaso que parece ser la vida de este nadador, de este Ned, tan atractivo de inicio como lleno de contradicciones al final. Ese fracaso del ambicioso “sueño americano”.
 
Terrible metáfora, terrible transformación a medida que avanza el relato...ayyy el costoso sueño americano, lleno de trampas, peajes y desengaños. 
 
No es tanto lo que cuenta como lo que sugiere de bajada a los infiernos.Relativa. Bajada a los infiernos relativa aunque catastrófica por lo que supone de bajada de escalafón social en USA ultracapitalista.
 
Cuando lo leí hace años valoré lo que tenía de novedoso, pero no le saqué todo el contenido al cuento. Me dejó por mucho tiempo como hipnotizado sin haber entendido del todo lo que nos quería contar Cheever, recuerdo pensar: “pues vaya historia de un tipo de piscina en piscina hasta llegar a su casa…” meeekkk error. ¿Qué veo ahora mucho tiempo después?: Todo el contenido de la narrativa de Cheever está en este cuento:
1. La vida acomodada de mitad de siglo XX de la sociedad media norteamericana, las reuniones sociales, matrimonios fumando y bebiendo constantemente con los vecinos y amigos,
2. El agotamiento de esa vida de pose y superficial,
3. El estilo inconfundible de Cheever que se basa en
3.1. condensar la narración,
3.2. evitar lo superfluo al más puro estilo Heminguey en eso del iceberg oculto, bárbaro: “¿Cuándo había oído hablar de los Welcher por última vez? ¿Cuándo —habría que decir, más exactamente— Lucinda y él se habían disculpado por última vez al recibir una invitación suya para cenar?” (detrás de ese apunte podría haber una novela completa, sin embargo Cheever solo te da ese apunte, trabaja tú como lector, parece decirte
3.3. nunca justificarse con el lector por la falta de información,
3.4. hacer que trabaje el lector y escatimarle la información,
3.5. nunca resumir ni moralizar al final de sus relatos,
4. El fracaso inevitable de esas expectativas vitales.
 
Todo eso está en El nadador.
 
“Ned no era ni estúpido ni partidario de las bromas pesadas, pero tenía una clara tendencia a la originalidad, y se consideraba a sí mismo —de manera vaga y sin darle apenas importancia— una figura legendaria. El día era realmente maravilloso, y le pareció que un baño prolongado serviría para acrecentar y celebrar su belleza.
Se desprendió del suéter que le colgaba de los hombros y se tiró de cabeza a la piscina.”
 
¡Lánzate a esta piscina! Cuento para leer una y otra vez en bucle.

[Kaggelo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Από τις καλύτερες συλλογές διηγημάτων που έχω διαβάσει ποτέ. Αν όχι η καλύτερη.

[Dave Schaafsma · Rating 5 out of 5]

A swimming pool:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Swimmin...

“I’m swimming across the county,” Ned said.
“Why, I didn’t know one could!” exclaimed Mrs. Halloran.
“Well, I’ve made it from the Westerhazys’,” Ned said. “That must be about four miles.”

John Cheever was a great writer, and particularly a great short story writer. I read all his Collected Stories at one point, but saw on Hoopla I could hear Cheever himself read his masterpiece, so listened right away. Cheever was a chronicler of the suburbs, of suburban alienation and alcohol and despair.

It begins this way:

“It was one of those midsummer Sundays when everyone sits around saying, ‘I drank too much last night.’ You might have heard it whispered by the parishioners leaving church, heard it from the lips of the priest himself, struggling with his cassock in the vestiarium, heard it from the golf links and the tennis courts, heard it from the wildlife preserve where the leader of the Audubon group was suffering from a terrible hangover.”

And what a fun idea for Ned to decide to swim his way across all the swimming pools in his county! That is what you can still see when you fly over plenty of suburbs in this country: Swimming pools, one symbol of Having Made It. Well-cleaned, shimmering, but typically empty. This absurd stunt is something the martini crowd might find mildly amusing. That Ned, what a character. And he thinks of himself as special, as original.

But maybe things aren’t exactly as they are communicated to us via old Neddy:

“As he was pulling himself out of the water, he heard Mrs. Halloran say, ‘We’ve been terribly sorry to hear about all your misfortunes, Neddy.’
‘My misfortunes?’ Ned asked. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’”

But he began to worry:

“Was his memory failing or had he so disciplined it in the repression of unpleasant facts that he had damaged his sense of the truth?”

I think it’s a brilliantly absurdist, tragi-comic send-up of self-delusional suburbia, maybe especially male-centric suburbia, and with Cheever, as with Raymond Carver, don’t forget to watch the way alcohol weaves its ways through the story. Booze is never far from Cheever's thoughts as (I am told) a person, and writer.

Here it is from The New Yorker:

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/19...

There was a 1968 film based on and an expansion of the story, with Burt Lancaster; here’s a trailer for the film:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QTRoj...

[Connie G · Rating 5 out of 5]

"He was not a practical joker nor was he a fool but he was determinedly original and had a vague and modest idea of himself as a legendary figure. The day was beautiful and it seemed to him that a long swim might enlarge and celebrate its beauty."

Neddy Merrill lives in an affluent community with his wife and four daughters. He's at a summer party where the alcohol is flowing freely. Neddy decides to travel from the pool party to his home by swimming through a chain of neighbors' and public pools. As he swims from pool to pool, everyone is friendly at first. But the mood changes, he keeps feeling the need for another drink, and people tell him they are "terribly sorry about all your misfortunes." When he reaches his home, he gets a terrible surprise!

This modern allegory gives a picture of an upper class suburban community, and the loneliness that can develop if you have troubles in a status-driven society. It also depicts the effects of alcohol and aging as the story progresses. It was a journey set in an afternoon, but showing the physical and social decline which could happen over years. Was "The Swimmer" a dreamlike vision, or a nightmare? Cheever was playing with time and reality in this surreal story. Interesting and original!

"The Swimmer" is story # 54 in the collection "The Stories of John Cheever."

[Φώτης Καραμπεσίνης · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ο Τσέχωφ και ο Χέμινγουει θα ήταν υπερήφανοι για τον κορυφαίο αυτό συγγραφέα!

[Hanneke · Rating 4 out of 5]

Disquieting short story about Neddy Merrill who seems to literally submerge himself in ever increasing oblivion. What a tragic and sobering tale.

[Yücel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Dün kitabı bitirdikten sonra tekrar bütün öykülerin üzerinden geçme gereği duydum çünkü elimdeki kitabın okurken anladığımdan daha iyi öyküler olduğu gibi bir izlenime kapılmıştım. Gerçekten de tahmin ettiğim gibi de oldu. Bütün öykülerin ("Öykülere Asla Girmeyecek Kişilerden Bir Derleme" öyküsü hariç) üzerinden tek tek geçerek, hatta birkaçını baştan sona tekrar okuyarak kitapla birkaç saat daha geçirince esasında Yüzücü'nün okuduğum en iyi öykü kitaplarından biri olduğunu farkettim. Hala birçok anlayamadığım imge var öykülerle ilgili; örneğin deniz imgesi (neredeyse kitabın başından sonuna kadar), bilinç/hafıza kaybı ile ilgili durumlar (Güle Güle Kardeşim, Merhem, Yüzücü). Öykülerin büyük çoğunluğunda kusursuz gibi görünen ailelerin ne kadar kırılgan (Güle Güle Kardeşim), geçmişinde ne büyük günahlar ve hayal kırıklıkları yattığını (Dev Radyo, Beş Kırk Sekiz), sorunlu olsalar da ailelerin bir arada olabilmek için gereken bir çekim gücünün varlığının (Merhem) anlatımlarını görmek mümkün. Bazı hikayeler (örneğin Aşkın Geometrisi ve Yüzücü) son derece mutlu mesut başlarken final sahnelerindeki şok anlarına ve o finale kadar giden yolda yavaş yavaş karakterlerin çözülüşlerini, yıkılışlarını göstermek açısından Cheever dehası demekten başka yorum yapamıyorum. Öykü okumayı seven herkese çok tavsiye ederim ama bu öyküleri yavaş ve hazmederek okumak gerektiğini özellikle belirtmek isterim.

[Mohsin Maqbool · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Swimmer is probably John Cheever's most famous short story.

"The Swimmer" is a short story that has been written by John Cheever. Mr. Cheever was an American novelist and short story writer, sometimes called "the Chekhov of the suburbs" or "the Ovid of Ossining."
Instead of driving home or even walking home, Neddy Merrill decides to swim home from a friend's pool party, travelling from fashionable swimming pool to swimming pool on a perfect mid-summer's day. Why does he do so? Because making his way home by an uncommon route gave
him the feeling that he was a pilgrim, an explorer, a man with a destiny.
He imagines these swimming pools to be the Lucinda River. Why does he call it the "Lucinda"? Because he names it after his wife, thus honoring her in his own special way.


Man swims underwater in pool.

"He was a slender man— he seemed to have the especial slenderness of youth— and while he was far from young he had slid down his banister that morning and given the bronze backside of Aphrodite on the hall table a smack, as he jogged toward the smell of coffee in his dining room. He might have been compared to a summer’s day, particularly the last hours of one, and while he lacked a tennis racket or a sail bag the impression was definitely one of youth, sport, and clement weather. He had been swimming and now he was breathing deeply, stertorously as if he could gulp into his lungs the components of that moment, the heat of the sun, the intenseness of his plea sure. It all flow into his chest. His own house stood in Bullet Park, eight miles to the south, where his four beautiful daughters would have had their lunch and might be playing tennis. Then it occurred to him that by taking a dogleg to the southwest he could reach his home by water."


The swimmer builds an image in his mind of his goal.

He starts off from the green pool of the Westerhazy's, followed by the Grahams, the Hammers, the Lears, the Howlands, and the Crosscups. "He would cross Ditmar Street to the Bunkers and come, after a short portage, to the Levys, the Welchers, and the public pool in Lancaster. Then there were the Hallorans, the Sachses, the Biswangers, Shirley Adams, the Gilmartins, and the Clydes."
Here is what Mr. Cheever writes about the Hallorans who in a way are a bit different from all the other couples. "He called hullo, hullo, to warn the Hallorans of his approach, to palliate his invasion of their privacy. The Hallorans, for reasons that had never been explained to him, did not wear bathing suits. No explanations were in order, really. Their nakedness was a detail in their uncompromising zeal for reform and he stepped politely out of his trunks before he went through the opening in the hedge."


Burt Lancaster in The Swimmer (dir. Frank Perry, 1968).

Neddy gatecrashes into the Biswanger's home where they are having a party right next to their swimming pool. Here the protagonist will receive a couple of big jolts.
Then there is Shirley Adams who holds a special significance in Neddy's life. "The next pool on his list, the last but two, belonged to his old mistress, Shirley Adams. If he had suffered any injuries at the Biswangers’ they would be cured here. Love— sexual roughhouse in fact— was the supreme elixir, the pain killer, the brightly-colored pill that would put the spring back into his step, the joy of life in his heart. They had had an affair last week, last month, last year. He couldn’t remember. It was he who had broken it off, his was the upper hand, and he stepped through the gate of the wall that surrounded her pool with nothing so considered as self-confidence. It seemed in a way to be his pool, as the lover, particularly the illicit lover, enjoys the possessions of his mistress with an authority unknown to holy matrimony."
The ending has a touch of surrealism to it. Maybe that is how Mr. Cheever likes to add flavour to his stories. Some readers might love the way the short story ends, while others might be put off. However, no one will find the story to be boring as it is a page-turner.


Burt Lancaster as The Swimmer holds a pair of beautiful shapely legs in his hands.

The story was originally published in The New Yorker on July 18, 1964 and made into a fabulous film in 1968 with Burt Lancaster as "The Swimmer" called Neddy Merrill.


DVD plus Blu Ray combo poster of The Swimmer.


I AM writing the review for John Cheever's "Expelled" here as I could not find it separately as a short story.
“Expelled” is John Cheever’s second short story that I have read; the first being “The Swimmer”. And the more I read him, the more I like him. If he wrote this brilliantly at the age of 18, I wonder how he wrote a few years later. By the way, “Expelled” was his debut as a short story writer for the New Republic in the fall of 1930.
“The Governor will tell us what a magnificent country we have. He will tell us to beware of the Red menace. He will want to tell us that the goddam foreigners should have gone home a hell of a long time ago. That they should have stayed in their own goddam countries if they didn't like ours. He will not dare say this though.”
I am sure Mr Cheever is writing from experience. Reading this reminds me of the time when I was studying and working in the US during the first half of the Eighties. Sometimes while working in the graveyard shift in stores like 7-Eleven and Schepp’s, I too would encounter xenophobic rednecks who in retaliation when I caught them stealing would say, “Go back to your country!” This would hurt as if I had been shot with a poisonous arrow.


John Cheever makes it to the cover of Time.

“If they have a mayor the speech will be longer. He will tell us that our country is beautiful and young and strong. That the War is over, but that if there is another war we must fight. He will tell us that war is a masculine trait that has brought present civilization to its fine condition. Then he
will leave us and help stout women place lilacs on graves. He will tell them the same thing.”
“War” here alludes to the Second World War which lasted from 1914-1918 and was mostly fought in trenches. War no more remains a “masculine trait” as women are included in the armed forces of many countries now. Some countries also allow transgender in their armed forces, including Israel. I never knew that “war is a masculine trait that has brought present civilization to its fine condition”. If that is the case, then there should be no peace on earth as war alone would bring its inhabitants “to its fine condition”. So this is how mayors and all those holding posts in high places brainwashed the mind of the youth and women those days. Mr. Cheever couldn’t be led astray. Being cheesed off in this way was exactly what led to his leaving school.


John Cheever's library with some of his personal belongings and plants.

“One Memorial Day they could not get a Governor or a mayor. There was a colonel in the same village who had been to war and who had a chest thick with medals. They asked him to speak. Of course he said he would like to speak.”
“He spoke as quickly as he could. He said war was bad. He said that there would never be another war. That he himself should stop it if he could.
"He swore. He looked at the young faces. They were all very clean. The boys' knees were crossed and their soft pants hung loosely. He thought of the empty desks and began to whimper.”
“It took the school several weeks to get over all this. Nobody said anything, but the colonel was never asked again. If they could not get a governor or a mayor they could get someone besides a colonel. They made sure of that.”
How ironic! The one person who had experienced war first-hand and knew all about death and destruction was never invited to give a speech again. The one person who knew how much misery war brought to families was never invited to give a speech again.
Writing about his English Literature teacher Margaret Courtwright, he writes, “She came from the West a long time ago. She taught school for so long that people ceased to consider her age. After having seen twenty-seven performances of "Hamlet" and after having taught it for sixteen years, she became a sort of immortal. Her interpretation was the one accepted on college-board papers. That helped everyone a great deal. No one had to get a new interpretation.”
Teachers should improvise their teaching methods otherwise their teaching becomes boring and stagnant while the students stop using their intellect and start depending on rote learning.


One female student looks bored while another sleeps in class.

Mr. Cheever’s logic and power of observation is amazing. While talking about a history teacher called Laura Driscoll, he writes: “In history one's intellect is used for mechanical speculation on a probable century or background. One’s memory is applied to a list of dead dates and names. When one begins to apply one's intellect to the mental scope of the period, to the emotional development of its inhabitants, one becomes dangerous. Laura Driscoll was terribly dangerous. That's why Laura was never a good history teacher.”
He continues describing Miss Driscoll: “She was not the first history teacher I had ever had. She is not the last I will have. But she is the only teacher I have ever had who could feel history with an emotional vibrance — or, if the person was too oblique, with a poetic understanding. She was five feet four inches tall, brown-haired, and bent-legged from horseback riding. All the boys thought Laura Driscoll was a swell teacher.”
“Laura didn't think much of America. Laura made this obvious and the faculty heard about it. The faculty all thought America was beautiful. They didn't like people to disagree.”
Most Americans still don’t like people to disagree with their viewpoint. You feel enslaved in such a world.
“No one ever saw Laura Driscoll again. By the way everyone talked, no one wanted to. That was all late in February. By March the school was quiet again. The new history teacher taught dates. Everyone carefully forgot about Laura Driscoll.” Tut-tut!


John Cheever stands on the platform of a railway station.

While giving his reasons for leaving school, Mr. Cheever writes: “But in a little while the spring went. I was left outside and there was no spring. I did not want to go in again. I would not have gone in again for anything. I was sorry, but I was not sorry over the fact that I had gone out. I was sorry that the outside and the inside could not have been open to one another. I was sorry that there were roofs on the classrooms and trousers on the legs of the instructors to insulate their contacts. I was not sorry that I had left school. I was sorry that I left for the reasons that I did.”
Reading this reminded me of Muriel Spark’s Miss Jean Brodie who often took her girls outside the school to teach. Maybe the classroom wasn’t a good enough place to teach youths. Maybe its walls felt too suffocating. I am sure when Mr. Cheever writes “there were roofs on the classrooms and trousers on the legs of the instructors to insulate their contacts,” he means the atmosphere was too stifling and the teachers mostly depended on rote teaching to make their students into perfect robots for college.
If you did the opposite like Laura Driscoll (or Miss Jean Brodie) you were bound to be fired from school.
“If I had left because I had to go to work or because I was sick it would not have been so bad. Leaving because you are angry and frustrated is different. It is not a good thing to do. It is bad for everyone.”


Mistakes are...

Explaining about the college-preparatory system, Mr Cheever writes, “Of course it was not the fault of the school. The headmaster and faculty were doing what they were supposed to do. It was just a preparatory school trying to please the colleges. A school that was doing everything the colleges asked it to do. It was not the fault of the school at all. It was the fault of the system—the
non-educational system, the college-preparatory system. That was what made the school so useless.”
I will conclude my review in the words of John Cheever as I can’t improve on his words. I am sure your wise and discerning mind will agree 100 per cent with what he writes. “Our country is the best country in the world. We are swimming in prosperity and our President is the best president in the world. We have larger apples and better cotton and faster and more beautiful machines. This makes us the greatest country in the world. Unemployment is a myth. Dissatisfaction is a fable. In preparatory school America is beautiful. It is the gem of the ocean and it is too bad. It is bad because people believe it all. Because they become indifferent. Because they marry and reproduce and vote and they know nothing. Because the tempered newspaper keeps its eyes ceilingwards and does not see the dirty floor. Because all they know is the tempered newspaper.”
The story is highly recommended. Read and enjoy and energize your grey cells.


'The best President in the world' tells his audience, "I am a bit loose in the head. People call me Nutty."

[°°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ʜᴇʟᴇɴ Ροζουλί Εωσφόρος ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° ★·.·´¯`·.·★ Ⓥⓔⓡⓝⓤⓢ Ⓟⓞⓡⓣⓘⓣⓞⓡ Ⓐⓡⓒⓐⓝⓤⓢ Ταμετούρο Αμ · Rating 4 out of 5]

Μέσα σε εννέα διηγήματα ηθογραφικού ψυχογραφήματος αποδομείται και ανατέμνεται η βιοψυχολογική διερεύνηση ολόκληρης της ζωής της λεγόμενης «μεσαίας τάξης» ή της «λευκής Αμερικής» των πλούσιων προαστίων.
Η μεσαία εύπορη τάξη της υποκριτικής ευταξίας
και των κρυμμένων παράπλευρων απωλειών.
Τα πάθη και τα λάθη των ανθρώπων που παλεύουν ενδόμυχα να ταιριάξουν τους ευκατάστατους οικογενειάρχες εαυτούς τους μέσα στην καρδιά του σκότους, με κάθε κοσμική διαφθορά, με κάθε αίσθηση αποκάλυψης στην αστική κοινωνία.
Διαβάζουμε μια περιποιημένα ενημερωμένη και μπουκωμένη σύγχρονη αστική μυθολογία σε ένα
σύμπαν εσώτερο, σκοτεινό, δυστυχισμένο και άθλιο γεμάτο απο μοναξιά και παρακμή υλικών και άϋλων ενοχών ματαιόδοξης προστατευμένης ψευδαίσθησης.

Όλοι οι ήρωες του «Δάντη των κοκτέιλ πάρτυ»
-όπως αποκαλούσαν τον Τσίβερ λόγω της μεταφυσικής έντασης που τραντάζει τα θεμέλια των γραπτών του- είναι πίσω από την βιτρίνα των επιτυχημένων λευκών, με τα πολυτελή αυτοκίνητα, τις βίλες και τα ατέλειωτα πάρτι. Επιχειρηματίες αυτοδημιούργητοι, στελέχη μεγάλων εταιριών και χρηματοπιστωτικά συστήματα που συνθλίβουν αξίες και συναισθηματικά δρώμενα, αγάπη, συντροφικότητα και απαντοχή, υπάρχουν και παλεύουν να καταξιωθούν, έστω κι αν όλα αυτά έχουν ξεπεραστεί και εκσυγχρονιστεί μέσα στην βιομηχανία των χαμένων ονείρων.
Απο τη μία πλευρά οι αστικοί κοινωνικοί μύθοι που φιλούν με πάθος την πραγματικότητα και απο την άλλη ο χάρτινος πύργος της ευπρέπειας που αγκαλιάζει την Αμερική των νεόπτωχων, των χαμένων ευκαιριών και των εξαθλιωμένων γειτονιών μέσα στην κοινωνική κόλαση που μπορεί να οδηγήσει οποιαδήποτε στραβοτιμονιές της καθημερινότητας και της ίδιας της λειτουργικής ζωής σε πραγματικό χρόνο και χώρο.

Ο Τσίβερ δεν ακυρώνει τις ήσυχες, πλούσιες και πουριτανικές κληρονομιές της κοινωνικής ανέλιξης των αστών. Η προσέγγιση του είναι αμφίσημη και αυτό ίσως το πλαίσιο παρακολούθησης της ράτσας του, να κάνει τις ιστορίες του, ανθολογίες ηθογραφίας που αποδέχονται την ανθρώπινη φύση και το μεγαλείο της, ένα προνομιακό σύστημα ρουτίνας που είναι φωτισμένο με σκοτάδι, διαστροφή και άλλα έμφυτα πάθη απο τα οποία η ενδόμυχη επιθυμία για κάθε προσπάθεια αντίστασης ενθαρρύνεται με την πένα του χαρίζοντας διάχυτη ανθρωπιά και κατανόηση σε εποχές έντονης αμφισβήτησης.
Σε καμία περίπτωση δεν καταλήγει σε στείρες ηθικολογίες και κλισέ υπαρξιακών διλλημάτων μοραλιστικού χαρακτήρα.
Αντίθετα δείχνει να μην συμμερίζεται τα ηθικά εμπόδια, τις εσωτερικές συγκρούσεις και τις εμμονές στον πειρασμό κάθε είδους αμαρτίας με καχυποψία, και ανόητα προτεσταντικά πιστεύω, που όριζαν την ομορφιά της φύσης και τις ηδονικές απολαύσεις των σαρκικών επιθυμιών ως διαφθορά που εκμαυλίζει την ανθρώπινη ψυχή.
Από το διήγημα : «Μονάχα πες μου ποιος ήταν », αλλά γενικότερα στην γραφή του, η διεισδυτική πένα του συγγραφέα δεν διστάζει να ξεσκεπάσει τα πέπλα υποκριτικού ταλέντου που ντύνουν την αλήθεια με αυτόφωτα ψέμματα,
«Ο Γουίλ Πιμ ήταν αυτοδημιούργητος. Ορισμένα πράγματα εξακολουθούσαν να του θυμίζουν τα νιάτα του και να τον κάνουν να νιώθει αμήχανα: Ζητιάνοι γέροι με κουρέλια, άντρες και γυναίκες με φτηνά ρούχα που έτρωγαν κακό φαγητό κάτω από τα φώτα μιας καφετέριας, φώτα ενοχών και μετάνοιας, οι μαχαλάδες, οι άθλιες κωμοπόλεις, τα πρόσωπα στα τζάμια των πανσιόν με τα φτηνά δωμάτια, ακόμα και μια τρύπα στις κάλτσες της κόρης του. Δεν ήθελε ποτέ να βλέπει τα σημάδια της φτώχειας…».



Καλή ανάγνωση.
Πολλούς ασπασμούς.

[Sinem A. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Amerika'nın Çehov u olarak anılan yazarın okuduğum ilk kitabı bu öykü derlemesi oldu.
Hikayelerinde ele aldığı insaların ait olduğu sosyal sınıf çok da ilgimi çekmese de bu sınıfa ait insanlar üzerinden insanın dualist yapısını yer yer mizahi bir dille ele alışı gerçekten hoştu.
Sanırım insanın bu trajikomik halini ortaya serebilecek en iyi durumlar da bu biraz kalburüstü denilen sınıftan çıkıyor.
Çevirinin çok az teklediği yerler varmış gibi hissetsem de yazarın edebi tadı gayet güsel hissediliyordu. Gerçekten de lezzetli.
Hernekadar ödüle doymayan ve bu nedenle öne çıkarılan öyküsü "Yüzücü" ise de benim favorim "Aşkın Geometrisi" ve onun o dualist insan yapısına uygun o hem trajik hem de komik dualist dili oldu.

Öyküden alıntıladığım bir cümleyi de unutmamak için buraya ekliyorum;
"Mallory, acının bölücü gücünü tümüyle alt edebilecek, sağlıklı olanla sağlıksız arasındaki boşluğu azaltabilecek bir aşkın örneğini henüz görmediğini yineledi içinde."

[Fabian {Councillor} · Rating 4 out of 5]

John Cheever's short story The Swimmer, originally published in The New Yorker in the summer of 1964, is a classic tale of a middle-aged man trying to cover his insecurities with adventurous spirit and curiosity.

Burt Lancaster in The Swimmer (1968)

In this short story, middle-aged Neddy Merrill decides on a whim to traverse his suburban home county in New York by swimming from pool to pool, walking and swimming eight miles through the backyards of friends and acquaintances alike, dressed only with a pair of trunks. This sounds like an idea that would have grown in the mind of a jumpy young man trying to prove himself in front of his friends – not so much like an idea springing from the mind of a middle-aged man in his early 50s, however. Indeed, what starts off as a free-spirited impulse soon turns into a regrettable notion, as Neddy continues his journey and his stations become less and less pleasant. These are smaller intrusions, hindrances at first, like a drained pool or some neighbors with less welcoming arms, but soon the protagonist's daring quest descends into a whirlwind of self-doubt and reflection.

The power of John Cheever's fast-paced, swift story lies not only in the memorable premise, but also in its metaphorical implications. A wonderful analysis on Owlcation likens the protagonist's journey to the midlife crisis of a man in denial about the problems of his existence, a man who refuses to acknowledge his failures as a husband, a father, a friend. The pools represent the "river of his life" (which he actually calls Lucinda River, after his beloved wife), with each new swimming pool he enters on his journey through New York suburbia representing another station of his life, a life that starts with hope and curiosity and a sparkle of naiveté, only to lose its positivity and confidence when each station proves more antagonistic and forbidding than the one before.

My curiosity was drawn to this story because of the brilliant 1968 adaptation from Frank Perry, starring Burt Lancaster in one of the most underrated early efforts of the American New Wave; a film that I had seen years ago but never actually realized was based on a previously published short story. This is a fast-paced quick that takes less than an hour to read and is easy to track down online, so what are you still waiting for?

You can find the New Yorker article with this short story HERE.

[Thomas · Rating 3 out of 5]

I agree with the central message of this short story, I just found its delivery boring. Yes, perpetual suburbia and unfulfilling wealth and meaningless pleasantries can take a toll on one's health. John Cheever portrays the dullness of Neddy Merrill's life as he swims throughout the story. But, by doing so with no change of pace, Cheever makes his own story dull, delivering a solid piece of symbolism and a lackluster work of writing. Another story that satisfies the mind but fails to reach the heart.

[Constantinos Capetanakis · Rating 5 out of 5]

Τα 5* είναι λίγα. Ο Τσίβερ είναι για κάθε περίσταση, η μόνιμη υπενθύμιση του τι είναι το πραγματικά σπουδαίο διήγημα και του πόσα περιέχει και κρύβει η ψυχή ενός «κανονικού» ανθρώπου. Όλες του οι ιστορίες (υπάρχει και η αγγλική έκδοση με το σύνολο τους) είναι πολύτιμο φάρμακο. Τεράστιος συγγραφέας.

[Steven Godin · Rating 5 out of 5]

There are short stories and there are very short stories, a story that only seems to last a matter of a few minutes. How can a story really be covered in next to no time?, well, in short story master John Cheever's hands it's possible, a chilling view of one man in suburbia. Pure gold in under 20 pages.

[Vivian · Rating 4 out of 5]

A twisted little tale of heartache.

Powerful, as all good short stories should be, this is a wonderful ride from the halcyon days of endless summer through autumn and winter. I can taste the gin and tonic on my lips, so perfect a summer drink that fades from glory in the crispness of chillier days.

In many ways this reminded me of The Great Gatsby.

[Argos · Rating 4 out of 5]

John Cheever’e yakıştırılan “Amerika’nın Çehov’u” düşüncesine katılmıyorum. Taşradaki yaşantılardan kurgular yapmaları bir benzeme nedeni olsa da ne ne iki yazarın taşraları aynı, ne yaşadıkları zaman dilimi, ne de yazı üslupları. Öykülerin konuları, dilleri, tanımlamalar, çok farklı. Yakın zamanda okuduğum Richard Yates’in “Yalnızlığın Onbir Hali” ve Italo Calvino’nun “Zor Sevdalar”ından sonra bu öyküler zayıf geldi belki de. İronik dille insanı odağa alarak hikayelerini kurguluyor.
Hikayelerin sonunu okuyucunun hayal gücüne bırakıyor. Tomris Uyar çevirisi tabii ki güzel ancak 93. sayfada olduğu gibi “cebelleşme” yerine “becelleşme” gibi sinir bozucu yazım hataları gözden kaçırılmasaydı daha güzel olacaktı. Goodreads dostum sevgili Yücel’in “bu öyküleri yavaş ve hazmederek okumak gerektiğini özellikle belirtmek isterim” uyarısına uymama rağmen okuduğum öykü kitapları sıralamasında en iyiler grubuna dahil edemiyorum.