Faber Stories, a landmark series of individual volumes, presents masters of the short story form at work in a range of genres and styles.
Adrienne is living in a puritanical age, when the best compliment a childless woman can get is: 'You'd make a terrific mother'. That's when she goes to her friends' Labor Day picnic and accidentally kills their baby.
The shock of this scene is expertly packed into two brief paragraphs. What follows is Adrienne's retreat from life and her attempt to return to it.
Her sharp scepticism about the people around her is achingly funny. Yet beyond derision there is forgiveness and something along the lines of love.
Bringing together past, present and future in our ninetieth year, Faber Stories is a celebratory compendium of collectable work.
LORRIE MOORE is the Gertrude Conaway Vanderbilt Professor of English at Vanderbilt University. She is the recipient of a Lannan Foundation fellowship, as well as the PEN/Malamud Award and the Rea Award for her achievement in the short story. She is a member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters. She lives in Nashville, Tennessee.
For years I’ve heard the likes of Nick Hornby and David Sedaris gush over Lorrie Moore but, for no real reason beyond lethargy, I’ve never read anything by her. Having now read Terrific Mother, I can definitely see why she gets praised - this is a gem of a story!
A woman accidentally kills a baby at a picnic, falls into a deep depression, hastily gets married, and sets off for a month-long academic retreat in Italy where she falls in love with a female masseuse - what a year for anyone to go through!
I liked how quickly Moore dealt with the baby’s death right from the start. Some literary writers may dwell on a meaningful event for much too long, drowning the moment in self-indulgent, obfuscating prose for page after page; here it’s over in two long paragraphs. Which I think is a realistic and laudable approach to take - a lot of life’s defining moments happen very fast but the ripples of these moments continue to echo through time and memory.
And that’s the case here because, though it’s rarely mentioned again after, the baby’s death hangs over the idyllic Italian break and you can sense it still haunts our protagonist Adrienne.
All of which makes the story sound like a grim read but surprisingly it’s anything but! Moore’s dialogue is very loose, silly and amusing and the characters’ interactions are very playful. That balance between artistic prose and serious subject matter and light, almost jolly behaviour and tone impressed me the most. One of the lines about Adrienne’s husband Martin actually made me laugh:
“Poor godless, raised-an-atheist-in-Ohio Martin. ‘On Christmas,’ he’d said to her once, ‘we used to go down to the Science Store and worship the Bunsen burners.’”
It’s a testament to Moore’s talent that very little happens in the story but I was never too bored with it. And yet, if there’s one thing that keeps me from giving this one a perfect score, it’s that not enough did happen. The dinner scenes and massage sessions became a bit repetitive after a spell.
Still, Terrific Mother is, well, terrific, and if you’re like me and haven’t tried Lorrie Moore but always meant to, this is as good a starting place as any to dip your toes into!
The first page packs a punch. The rest of the story feels like it just kind of meanders along. It's expertly written and the story's aimlessness mirrors the main character's inner turmoil really well, but makes for a bit of a disappointing reading experience overall.
I have the book from which this short story comes from. I read it many years ago and loved the collection overall. I can’t remember what my reaction was to this story…it was the last one in the collection. I loved the front cover of the collection, Birds of America. There were several different book covers for this one book, each cover with a different bird. I was crazy enough where I have two book jackets for one book. I can’t remember if I bought two books or what. I think I was carrying book collecting to extremes back in the day. Of course, not now…nope, not me! 😏
The short story is about a woman who is in her mid thirties who is holding Sally Spearson’s baby and the bench she is sitting on breaks underneath her…and the baby ends up dead. Heavens to Betsy! 😧 • “Adrienne went home shortly thereafter, after the hospital and the police reports. And did not leave her attic apartment for seven months, and there were fears, deep fears for her, on the part of Martin Porter, the man she had been dating, and on the part of almost everyone, including Sally Spearson, who phoned tearfully that she forgave her, that Adrienne might never come out.”
Well, she comes out big time. Martin and she get married and take a trip to northern Italy, to a villa in the Alps set up for scholars and academic conferences.
And that’s where the book falls flat for me—well actually there is 95% of the book to go from there, so it’s pretty much the whole story that is awash for me. The people she meets at the conference are all pretentious snobs…she is pretty much unlikable. I thought she would be grieving or depressed about the baby, and perhaps Lorrie Moore wrote it so that deep deep (really deep) down she was disturbed about the death, but I sure couldn’t tell from the inner dialogue between herself and herself, or the dialogue between herself and others at the conference. I thought the writing was pretentious too. This is from a big fan of Lorrie Moore. I need to read the collection again…I promise to…later this year. 😑
This was part of set of short stories that Faber Publishing put out for its 90th anniversary. Given that somebody plucked this one story out of the 12 that comprise ‘Birds
“You were married before? “Oh, yes.” She sighed. “I had one of those reahearsal marriages, you know, where your’re a feminist and train a guy, and then some other feminist comes along and gets the guy.
Sempre tive a impressão de que iria gostar de Lorrie Moore e, por esta pequena amostra, creio que é realmente autora para mim. As suas observações são muito acutilantes, mas nota-se uma enorme sensibilidade na caracterização das personagens dentro dos seus pequenos/grandes dramas.
“Poor godless, raised-an-atheist-in-Ohio Martin. “On Christmas,” he said to her once, “we used to go down to the Science Store and worship the Bunsen burners.”
Even though I knew it was coming, the "accident" that starts Adrienne's downward spiral still knocked me for a loop, and made me gasp aloud. How does one resume one's life after such a horrific tragedy? And yet . . . life goes on, and Moore presents an interesting look at one woman's existence in the aftermath.
This was brilliantly written. It had everything I ever wanted in a short story like that. Vivid descriptions of the setting, bizarre dinner conversations, a twisted plot, and some sense of fuckery (not excluding the literal sense of that but I'm definitely referring to the more figurative sense of it).
“Could you move?" he said irritably. "You're sitting on my groin." "Fine," she said, and climbed off.”
I thought the narrative &/ the dialogues were so well written. I've never properly read Moore's work, and if I had, I surely don't recall liking it a lot, but this one proved otherwise. There's a lot of slightly odd conversations in the story but it's not done in an unpleasant way. It almost reminds me of lines in contemporary plays - esp. of the absurdist genre which I like.
“Oh, yes." She sighed. "I had one of those rehearsal marriages, you know, where you're a feminist and train a guy, and then some other feminist comes along and gets the guy."
"I don't know." Adrienne scowled. "I think there's something wrong with the words feminist and gets the guy being in the same sentence.”
“But now you're with someone else."
"Pre-taught. Self-cleaning. Batteries included."
"Someone else trained him, and you stole him.”
I've not read something that made me laugh in a while, and this one did. I'm tempted to give it a 5-star rating but there's something about it that feels a bit lacking that is holding me back. I don't mind the uncertain ending much, but I think it's the part where the tarot-reader is introduced. That did not make a lot of sense to me - I didn't think that it was a necessary addition as it does not add much to the plot/story. Also - Adrienne's husband did not feel 'human'/real enough for me. But in general - I thought it was an entertaining little story. I expected it to lean towards a sub-horror genre but it was nothing like what I'd imagined.
i didn't mind this book as i was very intrigued by the blurb and i felt that it was well written but overall i thought it was an okay read but not really my favourite
i read a spanish translation of this story and now reading other reviews it must've given a different vibe to the book. i actually enjoyed this. author uses some elements from the genre that i don't usually connect with, but because of the topic i deliberately dived in and made meaning of every fragment.
With the jarring opening scene of the baby’s death, I expected this to be more gripping. It ended up being about a 30 year old woman dissatisfied with her life, haunted by accidentally killing a baby. It reminds me of something I’ve read before. Some of the scenes were repetitive but I like Lorrie Moore’s voice.
I absolutely loved this little short story so so much. It starts with the protagonist Adrienne accidentally killing a baby (which is over in one long paragraph btw - in a sense I totally got the reason Moore did this to show how these big life-altering events can happen in an instance and that’s that), she falls into a depression for seven months, hastily gets married and goes to a retreat-like thing in the Italian Alps. Whilst there she starts to fall (kinda) for a female masseur and yh sort of more happens but it’s not plot-driven, it’s all about the character interactions for me. It might sound a bit gloomy at first but it is anything but - this is one of the wittiest and naturally funny books I’ve ever read. The humour is never forced but just flows so amazingly, it’s genuine and real and truly a pleasure to read. Parts I loved the most was the dinner scenes where Adrienne talks with other people at the ‘compound’ who are all rather snobby but I just found the interactions to come across as perfect. There’s possibly some repetition with these and those in the massage parlour but I loved them. The writing is razor-sharp and truly encapsulating - I read it in two sittings but that’s only because I started at 3am and needed to sleep or else it would’ve been one. I guess my only criticism is that it wasn’t that long and I kind of wanted it to go on and on. That being said, I think it does work extremely well as a short story (unlike some others) with a clear structure and flows great.
I read this once and thought it was just weird. But I read this twice and thought it was wonderful (but still quite weird). The first two pages of this book are some of the most amazing pages I’ve read - brilliant writing that’s visceral and shocking. Probably the best opening to a book I’ve ever read. If you’re sceptical, go and read the first two pages and you’ll get it. I loved it and for such a short read I’d be hard pressed not to recommend this to others. It’s shocking, but also evokes strong emotions. 5/5 stars.
From what I’ve seen so far, Faber Stories tend to leave this bittersweet feeling at their end as you wish you could read some more. The first lines of “Terrific Mother” are absolutely brilliant, with a very heavy and shocking scene being delivered in just a small paragraph. What follows is a very amusing and funny story on how Adrienne tries to get back on her feet, filled with sarcastic remarks and scornful interactions that ultimately culminate in a seek for self-forgiveness. I’ll definitely read more of Lorrie Moore’s.
3.25 ⭐️ it was a bit of a random one to be honest. Crazy entry to the story and then several random weeks in an Italian villa but I did still enjoy the imagery and the atmosphere though I still don’t fully know what the book is about. Maybe that is the point though.
This is a great short story by Lorrie Moore in the Faber Stories series. I haven’t read anything by Lorrie Moore since then mid-90s, when I read Who Will Run The Frog Hospital?. This story was first published in 1998 in the collection ‘Birds of America’.
This worked for me as a great story, because I loved the humour. Not that you would expect much humour after reading the first two pages, when thirty-five-year-old Adrienne has become a nervous holder of babies and although she is told she would make a great mother, she drops this particular baby which hits its head and dies. She retreats to her attic for seven months, and most of her vanishing friends think she may never emerge.
Move forwards months or years, and Martin, the boyfriend who became her only friend, is now her husband. He is beautifully described thus: ‘He was divorced and worked as a research economist, though he looked more like a Scottish lumberjack – greying hair, red-flecked beard, a favorite flannel shirt in green and gold.’ and ‘He was a practical man. He often referred to the annual departmental cocktail party as “Standing Around Getting Paid.”’
Martin is to attend a conference in Italy for scholars and academics. Adrienne can attend as a spouse and use the studios provided for painting or pottery. Here the humour begins. Every evening the residents move around the dining table, sitting next to different people, listening to their talk about frightful subjects. One has written six books on Chaucer. As Adrienne says later, ‘But six books on Chaucer? Why not, say, a Cat Stevens book?’ The spouses sometimes gather to discuss their own lives, when this wonderful exchange takes place: “You were married before?” “Oh, yes.” She sighed. “I had one of those rehearsal marriages, you know, where you’re a feminist and train a guy, then some other feminist comes along and gets the guy.”
Adrienne learns of a masseuse in the village down the hill and finds herself strangely relaxed and unbuttoned by Ilke for Minnesota. It leads her to many revelations and to many wonderful phrases in the story like: ‘Her rage flapped awkwardly away like a duck.’
The accident that happens within the first 2 pages really packs a punch. Even though the blurb says it is coming, it is so swift and blunt that you almost question if you read it right? Did that really happen? The rest of the story follows the main character's spiral into depression. Throughout this short story, not a lot actually happens. It is mainly concerned with the day to day details of a life that continues even after an event that makes it feel like it shouldn't. There is some really beautiful writing and even some humour, but reading this, I really felt I was in the character's head and could empathise with her descent into a dark place. I felt like I was going slowly mad. Really well written if a little surreal. Will definitely have to look into some of her other work.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
The first pages are intense, I loved it. ‘Are you one of the spouses?’ We get this phrase over and over, it’s repeated to us how a woman’s identity is broken down: mother and spouse.
Yet the middle pages were tedious, a bit confused and kind of a drag - part of me hopes it was written this way to reflect her mindset as she pulls herself out from her depression and back into the real world.
We finally come full circle as we return back to the issue: her guilt of accidentally killing a baby, she is given the forgiveness that she required (sadly, from her husband- the male validation drug continues to rule) to become human again - unfortunately we are left, as readers, with the uncertainty that her identity will be anything but an un-terrific mother and spouse.
A strange book with a strange main character that reminded me of Eleanor Oliphant strangely. I am not sure who was strange though - was it she, were it all the others? I might have to re read this one because i’m not quite sure i got it, so to speak.
𓍢 ִ ໋ “normal life is no longer possible for me. i've stepped off all the normal paths and am living in the bushes. i'm a bushwoman now.”
i am extremely confused and overwhelmed, but let's try to organize my thoughts…
“terrific mother” by lorrie moore packs a powerful punch right from the start with a sudden and shocking accident that happens within the first couple of pages (the protagonist, adrienne accidentally kills her friend’s baby at a picnic). although the book’s synopsis had hinted at something like this happening, the abruptness of it made me question whether i had read it right or not. the remainder of the story follows the protagonist's downward spiral into depression. although not much happens in terms of plot development, the story is primarily focused on the mundane details of daily life that continue even after an event that makes it feel like it shouldn't.
i must say, the writing in this book is truly beautiful, and at times, even deep. however, i found myself feeling quite weirded out, though i'm sure that was the author's intention! nevertheless, despite feeling confused by the story, i found it oddly entertaining. in fact, i laughed out loud several times thanks to the author's strange sense of humor. as far as i'm concerned, any book that can evoke emotions (especially laughter!) is a good read.
interestingly, i now find myself craving more of lorrie moore's writing. so, will i be reading more of her stuff? absolutely.
→ highlights.
⤷ “i killed a baby," she whispered. "yes, we have all killed a baby—there is a baby in all of us. that is why people come to me, to be reunited with it." "no, i've killed a real one.”
⤷ “i had one of those rehearsal marriages, you know, where you're a feminist and train a guy, and then some other feminist comes along and gets the guy.”
⤷ “it seemed truer, more familiar to the soul than was the busy, complicated flash that was normal life.”
⤷ “time, adrienne thought. what a racket.”
⤷ “who was she? the opposite of a mother. the opposite of a spouse. she was spider woman.”
⤷ “i feel for you. i've grown to love you. we're grown-ups here. one grows to do things.”
My first book in the Faber series, and was a dark and brooding treat about a woman trying to return to normal after a tragedy. Her isolation, when everyone is so understanding and present, felt very real.
Opening lines: ‘Although she had been around them her whole life, it was when she reached thirty-five that holding babies seemed to make her nervous- just at the beginning, a twinge of stage fright swinging up from the gut.’
Absolutely love Moore’s writing style - it is so funny and quirky, but still has some interesting themes underneath it all. This was an enjoyable and charming short story about a woman dealing with life, essentially. Unlike a lot of short stories I’ve read, this felt like a resolved piece of work and was a pleasure to read.
even though the story got a bit repetitive (structurally) after that killer beginning (pun intended), it was overall sad, funny and hopeful, so i am definitely interested in reading moore by lorrie lol
I feel as if this could have been an amazing story. It could have been a story that pulled on the heartstrings of people and invoked more sorrow, despair, anger, etc. I’m kind of feeling indifferent to this story due to the lost potential.