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«Δεν γράφουμε αυτά που θέλουμε εμείς, αλλά αυτά που θέλει η γλώσσα» ισχυρίστηκε κάποτε ένας κεντροευρωπαίος συγγραφέας, κι ο Καπότε έμεινε πιστός στη ρήση αυτή. Αποστράτευσε τον εγωισμό του και άφησε, μέσα στα γραπτά του, να μιλήσει η Αμερική. Έτσι όπως είναι, κι όχι όπως θέλουν να την παρουσιάσουν οι κυβερνήτες και οι διαφημιστές της. Η σκληρότητα του Καπότε είναι η σκληρότητα της Αμερικής. Ο Καπότε επιτρέπει να κυλήσει ο τρχύς λόγος της, κι έπειτα τοποθετεί εκεί ακριβώς που πρέπει τα κατάλληλα σημεία στίξεως. Κι έτσι μέσα στο παραλήρημα γίνεται αισθητή η πραγματικότητα. Το χάος χαρτογραφείται και η άβυσσος, απαλλαγμένη από φωταψίες και ηλεκτρικές επιγραφές, είναι εκεί: σκοτεινή, άγρια και απειλητική. Κι ο Καπότε μας διδάσκει ότι οφείλουμε να χρησιμοποιήσουμε την επινοητικότητα και τη συγγραφική δεινότητα για λογαριασμό της Αλήθειας, και όχι το αντίθετο. Στα εξήντα χρόνια που έζησε (πέθανε το 1984), αυτό προσπάθησε και με τα βιβλία του, αλλά και με τη ζωή του, ν’ αποδείξει. Γι’ αυτό και παραμένει επίκαιρος.
148 pages, Paperback
First published September 1, 1945
12 people are currently reading
645 people want to read
About the author
Truman Capote
345 books7,251 followersLibrarian Note: There is more than one author by this name in the Goodreads database.
Truman Capote was an American writer whose non-fiction, stories, novels and plays are recognised literary classics, including the novella Breakfast at Tiffany's (1958) and In Cold Blood (1965), which he labeled a "non-fiction novel." At least 20 films and TV dramas have been produced from Capote novels, stories and screenplays.
He was born as Truman Streckfus Persons to a salesman Archulus Persons and young Lillie Mae. His parents divorced when he was four and he went to live with his mother's relatives in Monroeville, Alabama. He was a lonely child who learned to read and write by himself before entering school. In 1933, he moved to New York City to live with his mother and her new husband, Joseph Capote, a Cuban-born businessman. Mr. Capote adopted Truman, legally changing his last name to Capote and enrolling him in private school. After graduating from high school in 1942, Truman Capote began his regular job as a copy boy at The New Yorker. During this time, he also began his career as a writer, publishing many short stories which introduced him into a circle of literary critics. His first novel, Other Voices, Other Rooms, published in 1948, stayed on The New York Times bestseller list for nine weeks and became controversial because of the photograph of Capote used to promote the novel, posing seductively and gazing into the camera.
In the 1950s and 1960s, Capote remained prolific producing both fiction and non-fiction. His masterpiece, In Cold Blood, a story about the murder of the Clutter family in Holcomb, Kansas, was published in 1966 in book form by Random House, became a worldwide success and brought Capote much praise from the literary community. After this success he published rarely and suffered from alcohol addiction. He died in 1984 at age 59.
Truman Capote was an American writer whose non-fiction, stories, novels and plays are recognised literary classics, including the novella Breakfast at Tiffany's (1958) and In Cold Blood (1965), which he labeled a "non-fiction novel." At least 20 films and TV dramas have been produced from Capote novels, stories and screenplays.
He was born as Truman Streckfus Persons to a salesman Archulus Persons and young Lillie Mae. His parents divorced when he was four and he went to live with his mother's relatives in Monroeville, Alabama. He was a lonely child who learned to read and write by himself before entering school. In 1933, he moved to New York City to live with his mother and her new husband, Joseph Capote, a Cuban-born businessman. Mr. Capote adopted Truman, legally changing his last name to Capote and enrolling him in private school. After graduating from high school in 1942, Truman Capote began his regular job as a copy boy at The New Yorker. During this time, he also began his career as a writer, publishing many short stories which introduced him into a circle of literary critics. His first novel, Other Voices, Other Rooms, published in 1948, stayed on The New York Times bestseller list for nine weeks and became controversial because of the photograph of Capote used to promote the novel, posing seductively and gazing into the camera.
In the 1950s and 1960s, Capote remained prolific producing both fiction and non-fiction. His masterpiece, In Cold Blood, a story about the murder of the Clutter family in Holcomb, Kansas, was published in 1966 in book form by Random House, became a worldwide success and brought Capote much praise from the literary community. After this success he published rarely and suffered from alcohol addiction. He died in 1984 at age 59.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 82 reviews
November 13, 2021
Innocent young girls with long hairs are often the symbol for the real evil and horror in movies and books. And little Miriam in this story seems to be one of the worst monster. An excellent creepy short story.
November 13, 2021
Eine außergewöhnlich gute Geschichte, bei der ich zuvor ein wenig zweifelte, ob sie wirklich unheimlich werden würde. Das Irreale schien mir nicht so recht in Capotes Portfolio zu passen.
Aber die Geschichte ist wirklich sehr gut geschrieben, erzeugt eine unheimliche Stimmung ohne jemals Erklärungen zu liefern - und lässt so den Leser mit der Interpretation alleine. Was gut ist, denn so beschäftigen einen die paar Seiten noch ein bisschen über die Lektüre hinaus.
Aber die Geschichte ist wirklich sehr gut geschrieben, erzeugt eine unheimliche Stimmung ohne jemals Erklärungen zu liefern - und lässt so den Leser mit der Interpretation alleine. Was gut ist, denn so beschäftigen einen die paar Seiten noch ein bisschen über die Lektüre hinaus.
August 26, 2013
Miriam is a 61-year-old widow who lives alone in an apartment with her pet bird. Then she meets a young girl, around 8 years old, likewise named Miriam.
Sounds like the beginning of a feel-good story. Indeed, a movie would go towards this predictable direction: the lonely widow, despairing of old age, learns something new from the innocent child.
But not this one. If it hadn't ended sooner, I really felt the girl will turn out to be something like Chucky, the evil doll. But I wasn't really sure. Truth to tell, if one would ask me if the girl was real or only imagined by the old widow I'd honestly say I'm not sure. And, if she was only a hallucination, why the widow would suffer such mental deception (was it the guilt of an abortion of long ago that haunts her? Or maybe an unsatisfied yearning to become a mother?).
Sounds like the beginning of a feel-good story. Indeed, a movie would go towards this predictable direction: the lonely widow, despairing of old age, learns something new from the innocent child.
But not this one. If it hadn't ended sooner, I really felt the girl will turn out to be something like Chucky, the evil doll. But I wasn't really sure. Truth to tell, if one would ask me if the girl was real or only imagined by the old widow I'd honestly say I'm not sure. And, if she was only a hallucination, why the widow would suffer such mental deception (was it the guilt of an abortion of long ago that haunts her? Or maybe an unsatisfied yearning to become a mother?).
October 31, 2020
There is nothing frightening in this story, perhaps mildly gothic at best. Misled by the GR labels, I read it as a quick Halloween read for this year, waiting for the horrifying elements, only to realize that it’s a finely crafted psychological Doppelgänger story. Still not sure if I was mistaken, I looked up online and to my delight found the New York Times article about his recently discovered letter in the attic of a lady who, when she was almost as young as Capote at the time (1945), wrote him a query along the lines: “I don’t get it, what’s this about?” In the letter on his old typewriter, Capote nicely explained it. Oh, yes, the Doppelgänger theme (the letter contains a sort of a “spoiler”, so best to read it only after finishing the story).
https://static01.nyt.com/images/2018/05/14/nyregion/14grace-print1/14grace-superJumbo.jpg
It was his first published story and deservedly received an O. Henry prize. As I’m not a big fan of the “horror” genre anyway, I was happy to have read it, even if not really fitting the Halloween theme.
(Without "trick or treat" children from the neighborhood because of the pandemic, it's a melancholic Halloween night this year.)
https://static01.nyt.com/images/2018/05/14/nyregion/14grace-print1/14grace-superJumbo.jpg
It was his first published story and deservedly received an O. Henry prize. As I’m not a big fan of the “horror” genre anyway, I was happy to have read it, even if not really fitting the Halloween theme.
(Without "trick or treat" children from the neighborhood because of the pandemic, it's a melancholic Halloween night this year.)
March 13, 2011
So creepy...and yet it was impossible to put it down...The story is perfectly written, holds your interest till the last word...and makes you wonder long after you've read it...
Colours are important here:lots of blue and white...White shows Miriam was good + the girl's white hair suggests her being an angel. Blue, probably, stands for sadness: Miriam had to die.
The most striking is the last sentence:
"Hello," said Miriam.
And we don't know which Miriam...
Colours are important here:lots of blue and white...White shows Miriam was good + the girl's white hair suggests her being an angel. Blue, probably, stands for sadness: Miriam had to die.
The most striking is the last sentence:
"Hello," said Miriam.
And we don't know which Miriam...
January 1, 2021
Publicado pela revista Mademoiselle em junho de 1945, “Miriam” é a história de uma garota sinistra que passa a morar com uma viúva de meia-idade e aos poucos vai tomando conta da vida dela. Será que ela é real ou fruto da imaginação da viúva? A história despertou a atenção dos círculos literários para Capote e levou Mary Louise Aswell, a editora de ficção da Harper’s Bazaar, a se interessar por mais histórias dele, pois naquela época ele ainda não era famoso. Adorei!
February 7, 2015
Primer trabajo que leo de Truman Capote y tengo que decir que me dejó una muy buena experiencia.
Excelente historia para pasar un rato agradable. Es sumamente perturbadora.
-Hola -dijo Miriam.
Excelente historia para pasar un rato agradable. Es sumamente perturbadora.
-Hola -dijo Miriam.
April 5, 2019
She dropped her coat and beret on a chair. She was indeed wearing a silk dress. White silk. White silk in February. The skirt was beautifully pleated and the sleeves long; it made a faint rustle as she strode about the room. “I like your place,” she said. “I like the rug, blue’s my favorite color.” She touched a paper rose in a vase on the coffee table. “Imitation,” she commented wanly. “How sad. Aren’t imitations sad?”
April 4, 19
February 3, 2009
Charmingly creepy, makes your imaginiation soar with what it could mean...
August 23, 2025
Miriam: A Classic Story of Loneliness by Truman Capote is a short story about a lonely 61-year-old widow named Mrs. H. T. Miller, who meets a young girl at a movie theater, oddly also named Miriam. Soon, the girl starts forcing her way into Miriam’s life, but is she real?
Miriam, published in 1945, was one of the first stories Truman Capote published and the acclaim that came from it helped propel his career into eventually writing his most well known stories such as Breakfast at Tiffany’s. There is some early talent on display here such as some nice descriptive writing (I liked the way he used “musical fingers” to describe young Miriam’s hands, for example) and the story overall is hazy and dream-like. The horror/creepy vibe does grab you for a brief moment, which is what I suppose short stories like this are meant to do.
This story does feel very 1940s coded - it has that sort of Twilight Zone feeling about it. Its strength lies in the fact that it is open to interpretation on what the story actually means, who the character of the young Miriam, and the man following the elderly Miriam on the street, actually are. Is this a story of mental illness? Are the characters real? Looking online, people have many theories about the characters and the meaning, things like the Hebrew name for “Miriam” translates to “wished-for-child” so maybe it’s some symbolic story about loneliness and depression towards the end of life.
A quick and easy read, which is what I was looking for after having just read a 650 page book, and one that grabs your attention for a moment, but also one I feel won’t leave much of a lasting mark upon my memory.
Miriam, published in 1945, was one of the first stories Truman Capote published and the acclaim that came from it helped propel his career into eventually writing his most well known stories such as Breakfast at Tiffany’s. There is some early talent on display here such as some nice descriptive writing (I liked the way he used “musical fingers” to describe young Miriam’s hands, for example) and the story overall is hazy and dream-like. The horror/creepy vibe does grab you for a brief moment, which is what I suppose short stories like this are meant to do.
This story does feel very 1940s coded - it has that sort of Twilight Zone feeling about it. Its strength lies in the fact that it is open to interpretation on what the story actually means, who the character of the young Miriam, and the man following the elderly Miriam on the street, actually are. Is this a story of mental illness? Are the characters real? Looking online, people have many theories about the characters and the meaning, things like the Hebrew name for “Miriam” translates to “wished-for-child” so maybe it’s some symbolic story about loneliness and depression towards the end of life.
A quick and easy read, which is what I was looking for after having just read a 650 page book, and one that grabs your attention for a moment, but also one I feel won’t leave much of a lasting mark upon my memory.
June 28, 2020
This is the 1945 short story, published in the Conde Nast women's magazine 'Mademoiselle', that first brought Truman Capote to literary attention, It is a finely constructed tale that could be supernatural horror or about the collapsing mind of an isolated elderly woman.
April 4, 2020
Unexpectedly creepy story that leaves interesting space for interpretation.
Read
May 15, 2023ENGLISH READ
this was kinda fire and freaky 🔥
this was kinda fire and freaky 🔥
May 17, 2011
This story had the same kind of hazy feel the "The Tooth" by Shirley Jackson had. The entire story seems cloudy, and once again, a lot is left up for interpretation.
In "Miriam", a woman is living a lonely life after her husband died, and she intends on keeping it that way. One day when she is at the movies, a young girl comes up to her and asks her for a favor. The woman is intrigued to hear that the little girl has the same name as her, "Miriam". They then part ways after that event.
Several weeks later, there is a knock on the woman's door late at night. She finds the little girl there, and the girl invites herself in. The woman asks her to leave because of how late it was but Miriam refuses. She finally has the girl leave after making her a meal and practically forcing her out of the door. Before the girl leaves, she asks for a kiss on the cheek. The woman refuses, and the girl storms around the room, braking a vase and smashing the flowers inside. The woman is very stressed out over the event and, to help deal with the stress, goes out the next morning and shops for the entire day to try and forget about the strange night before.
That night the girl comes again, and will not leave the door until the woman opens it. The girl brings a box with her full of clothes and a doll. The tells the woman that she is moving into the house with her. The woman is very frightened and runs downstairs to find someone to help deal with the situation. A man goes to her room and doesn't find anything and tells the woman that it's safe to return. The woman returns reluctantly and lays down on the couch to try to relax. Then the woman hers the faint rustling sound of a dress, and then the final line of the story.-"Hello," said Miriam.
It is unclear which Miriam said those words, it's left for you to decide. The creepiness shows through this story, with the little girl who seems almost ghost like. The white silk dresses she wears and the words used to describe her add to this feel.
Overall, I really enjoyed this story and would highly recommend it.
In "Miriam", a woman is living a lonely life after her husband died, and she intends on keeping it that way. One day when she is at the movies, a young girl comes up to her and asks her for a favor. The woman is intrigued to hear that the little girl has the same name as her, "Miriam". They then part ways after that event.
Several weeks later, there is a knock on the woman's door late at night. She finds the little girl there, and the girl invites herself in. The woman asks her to leave because of how late it was but Miriam refuses. She finally has the girl leave after making her a meal and practically forcing her out of the door. Before the girl leaves, she asks for a kiss on the cheek. The woman refuses, and the girl storms around the room, braking a vase and smashing the flowers inside. The woman is very stressed out over the event and, to help deal with the stress, goes out the next morning and shops for the entire day to try and forget about the strange night before.
That night the girl comes again, and will not leave the door until the woman opens it. The girl brings a box with her full of clothes and a doll. The tells the woman that she is moving into the house with her. The woman is very frightened and runs downstairs to find someone to help deal with the situation. A man goes to her room and doesn't find anything and tells the woman that it's safe to return. The woman returns reluctantly and lays down on the couch to try to relax. Then the woman hers the faint rustling sound of a dress, and then the final line of the story.-"Hello," said Miriam.
It is unclear which Miriam said those words, it's left for you to decide. The creepiness shows through this story, with the little girl who seems almost ghost like. The white silk dresses she wears and the words used to describe her add to this feel.
Overall, I really enjoyed this story and would highly recommend it.
September 24, 2016
..pirmais stāst biedējošs, otrais - par stulbeni. daži teikumi, protams, ģeniāli, bet nekas īpašs, ja tā var teikt!
March 20, 2018
Starting a sentence with ‘And’ or ‘But’ should be a ballsy choice, not an oversight. Who allowed ‘ballsy’ to become a real word? Ah—Truman Capote. And I think I like his face��at least I do in the few artistic images I saw when it was already rough and weathered. How does one say, 'Fantastic, Truman Capote was a proponent of a liberal use colons,' without quite saying that? Or, ‘With Miriam, in I dip my toes, which have been too long unwet.’
There is a slight distracting difference in fonts, as there is with tone, after taking from with a copy and a paste. But I am too obsessed with myself, and so inward I recede. I concede, I may not be that fascinating to all those who do not choose to watch me. Submerged as so into one’s own head, a flicker of eyes from here to there is all there is, the subtlest hint of what remains is floating underwater, still hidden. The sensation of cessation differs on a continuum from far-too-soon to overstayed. Language as a graph in too many dimensions and with far too many categorical variables to ever accurately visualize (to aid in understanding), let alone understand.
To be let alone is dissimilar to being left alone and dissimilar still to being left, alone. As everyone great is dead and so the good are the cream who are left to rise and perhaps, only perhaps, someone great can stand upon those good shoulders while they maintain some lessened baseline—current maxima being some local minima amongst absolute maxima, I hope. But then, there is the issue of the gatekeepers, who are holding down weakening forts as well. So, if that is so, you and I, we may as well be dead already, for there is no hope left to claim. Ah, I exclaim, angrily, as I hate everyone who cannot write this well. And so, perhaps I am inappropriately appalled, as not many of any transient population could dream to attain such precision. ‘The rumble of newsreel bombs exploded in the distance’—at the time, a vivid image; I could almost hear them now.
If I could peer far enough outside myself, I would see I am conversing only with myself too, and it is, in fact, a symptom of loneliness or, at least, of finding oneself without peers in an overcrowded expanse. There are parallels, perhaps, but no two lines, which are not self-defined, overlap—not exactly. There may be tangents, if we allow for lines with curvature, assuming people change. To someone: a person; to only one: a name and face. And a place as just one place, but both her home and their escape. ‘Her hand shook as she held the match, fascinated, till it burned her finger,’ and still, as we are wont to do, in this life we long to linger led by hopes of perhaps more until somehow, all at once, we settle for less and less.
Unless we wake up, untethered from such ‘imitation’ pseudo-things, with the stillsame light anew disrupting our ‘unwholesome fancies.’ But, as light is wont too, it fades to unreplenished, dissatisfied, alone save for oneself and if that is enough.
There is a slight distracting difference in fonts, as there is with tone, after taking from with a copy and a paste. But I am too obsessed with myself, and so inward I recede. I concede, I may not be that fascinating to all those who do not choose to watch me. Submerged as so into one’s own head, a flicker of eyes from here to there is all there is, the subtlest hint of what remains is floating underwater, still hidden. The sensation of cessation differs on a continuum from far-too-soon to overstayed. Language as a graph in too many dimensions and with far too many categorical variables to ever accurately visualize (to aid in understanding), let alone understand.
To be let alone is dissimilar to being left alone and dissimilar still to being left, alone. As everyone great is dead and so the good are the cream who are left to rise and perhaps, only perhaps, someone great can stand upon those good shoulders while they maintain some lessened baseline—current maxima being some local minima amongst absolute maxima, I hope. But then, there is the issue of the gatekeepers, who are holding down weakening forts as well. So, if that is so, you and I, we may as well be dead already, for there is no hope left to claim. Ah, I exclaim, angrily, as I hate everyone who cannot write this well. And so, perhaps I am inappropriately appalled, as not many of any transient population could dream to attain such precision. ‘The rumble of newsreel bombs exploded in the distance’—at the time, a vivid image; I could almost hear them now.
If I could peer far enough outside myself, I would see I am conversing only with myself too, and it is, in fact, a symptom of loneliness or, at least, of finding oneself without peers in an overcrowded expanse. There are parallels, perhaps, but no two lines, which are not self-defined, overlap—not exactly. There may be tangents, if we allow for lines with curvature, assuming people change. To someone: a person; to only one: a name and face. And a place as just one place, but both her home and their escape. ‘Her hand shook as she held the match, fascinated, till it burned her finger,’ and still, as we are wont to do, in this life we long to linger led by hopes of perhaps more until somehow, all at once, we settle for less and less.
Unless we wake up, untethered from such ‘imitation’ pseudo-things, with the stillsame light anew disrupting our ‘unwholesome fancies.’ But, as light is wont too, it fades to unreplenished, dissatisfied, alone save for oneself and if that is enough.
November 17, 2021
Primer texto que leo de Truman Capote y me gustó.
December 2, 2023
Ļoti patika. Divi īsi un dažādi stāsti,bet ievilka iekšā kā putekļusūcējs.Esmu dzirdējusi par klasisko Kapotes darbu "Brokastis Tifānijā" un ir vēl daudzi citi, kurus noteikti apskatīšu. Rakstnieks kurš pazīstams pasaulē arī ka dramaturgs un aktieris, man ir patīkams atklājums tāpat kā savulaik Sinatra un melnbaltais kino. Ar šo es domāju - nedzīvoju uz Mēness zinu ka tas viss eksistēja pirms tam, bet tieši nonācu pie atziņas ka mani īpaši uzrunā gan stils, gan žanrs. :)
Lasot grāmatu nedaudz atsauca atmiņā Beļģu rakstnieces Amēlijas Notombas stilu kas man arī ļoti patīk.
Kopumā viegli iztēloties ainas, viegli lasās un ir arī par ko padomāt.
"Nekas nav tas, kas šķiet esam. Ziemassvētku eglītes ir tikai celofāns, un sniegs ir tikai ziepju skaidiņas. Mūsos lido dvēseles, un nomirstot mēs nemaz neesam miruši- jā, un dzīvojot mēs nekad neesam dzīvi." T. Kapote.
Lasot grāmatu nedaudz atsauca atmiņā Beļģu rakstnieces Amēlijas Notombas stilu kas man arī ļoti patīk.
Kopumā viegli iztēloties ainas, viegli lasās un ir arī par ko padomāt.
"Nekas nav tas, kas šķiet esam. Ziemassvētku eglītes ir tikai celofāns, un sniegs ir tikai ziepju skaidiņas. Mūsos lido dvēseles, un nomirstot mēs nemaz neesam miruši- jā, un dzīvojot mēs nekad neesam dzīvi." T. Kapote.
May 27, 2016
I love Capote's writing style and I love the way his writing flows.
This is a creepy story about a 61-years-old woman coming across a little girl, with the same name as her, Miriam, and the consequences that follow. What I love about this story are the different interpretations you could come up with, the little girl could be death, mere hallucinations, an actual ghost, or a symbol of the old women's past and younger self!
I loved how creepy and eerie it was and how it could be a different story with each interpretation you choose.
This is a creepy story about a 61-years-old woman coming across a little girl, with the same name as her, Miriam, and the consequences that follow. What I love about this story are the different interpretations you could come up with, the little girl could be death, mere hallucinations, an actual ghost, or a symbol of the old women's past and younger self!
I loved how creepy and eerie it was and how it could be a different story with each interpretation you choose.
October 12, 2020
Pārlasīju šo nelielo izdevumu, jo galīgi nevarēju atcerēties, par ko bija abi Kapotes stāsti. Tomēr neviens no tiem nelika vilties - gan mazā, baisā Mirjama, kas terorizē Millera kundzi, gan Volters Renijs ar sev apkārt mītošo ļaunumu aizrāva un iesūca savā pasaulē. Ļoti patika stāstu daudznozīmība, pareizāk sakot, plašās interpretācijas iespējas.
September 8, 2022
A nice manipulation of the idea of doubling and schizoid identity. However, I think this short story had to be a bit longer to reflect more on the protagonist's downfall into such hallucinations and to also create more room for the antagonist to develop and act.
August 12, 2016
Kā rakstīts anotācijā "Trūmena Kapotes stāstos galvenais ir noskaņa". Tā arī tur bija. Savdabīgi stāsti. Mirjama uzrunāja vairāk.
July 13, 2014
An excellent short story by Truman Capote.
Different from previous books I have read by Capote. This book is creepy and could easily be turned into a film if it hasn't already been done.
Different from previous books I have read by Capote. This book is creepy and could easily be turned into a film if it hasn't already been done.
November 27, 2017
You could explore the layers of this short story forever and still not feel you have a complete grasp on its meaning.
March 21, 2015
¡Qué buen minirelato! Recomendable para pasar el rato
April 21, 2021
Timp de mai mulţi ani, doamna H.T. Miller locuise singură într-un apartament plăcut (două camere cu chicinetă) într-o clădire restaurată, cu faţada maronie, de lângă East River. Era văduvă; domnul H.T. Miller lăsase o moştenire frumuşică în asigurări. Nu avea cine ştie ce preocupări ori prieteni şi rareori mergea mai departe de băcănia de pe colţ. Vecinii ei aproape nu ştiau că există, cu hainele ei obişnuite, părul cenuşiu, tăiat scurt, uşor ondulat; cosmetice nu folosea, nu era o frumuseţe şi împlinise 61 de ani. Rareori întreprindea ceva spontan – ţinea curăţenie perfectă, fuma uneori o ţigară şi avea un canar.
Apoi o întâlni pe Miriam. Ningea în noaptea aceea. Dna Miller terminase cu vasele şi, frunzărind un ziar de după-amiază, dădu de reclama unui film la cinematograful din apropiere. Titlul o atrăgea, aşa că-şi luă haina de castor şi galoşii şi ieşi, lăsând lumina aprinsă în hol – nimic n-o neliniştea mai mult decât întunericul.
Cădea o ninsoare fină, ce nu lăsa nicio urmă pe jos. Dinspre râu venea un vânt rece, dar nu-l simţeai decât la intersecţii. Dna Miller mergea grăbită, cu capul plecat, de parcă ar fi fost o cârtiţă angajată în săparea unui tunel, în completă uitare de sine. Se opri la un magazin şi luă o pungă de bomboane de mentă.
În faţa casei de bilete se formase o coadă respectabilă; se aşeză în capătul ei. Din faţa se anunţă că vor trebui să aştepte puţin (cineva gemu a protest) până se va evacua sala. Dna Miller scotoci în poşeta de piele şi-şi adună banii potriviţi pentru bilet. Se părea că aveau de aşteptat binişor şi, căutând ceva cu care să-şi omoare timpul, se trezi privind o fetiţă care stătea în picioare sub marginea marchizei.
Avea părul cel mai lung şi cel mai ciudat pe care-l văzuse dna Miller vreodată: argintiu-sclipitor, ca de albinos. I se revărsa, mătăsos şi bogat, până la talie. Fetiţa era slăbuţă, de constituţie fragilă. O anume eleganţă naturală se degaja din felul cum sta cu degetele mari ale mâinilor înfipte în buzunarele unui palton de velur, culoarea prunei.
Apoi o întâlni pe Miriam. Ningea în noaptea aceea. Dna Miller terminase cu vasele şi, frunzărind un ziar de după-amiază, dădu de reclama unui film la cinematograful din apropiere. Titlul o atrăgea, aşa că-şi luă haina de castor şi galoşii şi ieşi, lăsând lumina aprinsă în hol – nimic n-o neliniştea mai mult decât întunericul.
Cădea o ninsoare fină, ce nu lăsa nicio urmă pe jos. Dinspre râu venea un vânt rece, dar nu-l simţeai decât la intersecţii. Dna Miller mergea grăbită, cu capul plecat, de parcă ar fi fost o cârtiţă angajată în săparea unui tunel, în completă uitare de sine. Se opri la un magazin şi luă o pungă de bomboane de mentă.
În faţa casei de bilete se formase o coadă respectabilă; se aşeză în capătul ei. Din faţa se anunţă că vor trebui să aştepte puţin (cineva gemu a protest) până se va evacua sala. Dna Miller scotoci în poşeta de piele şi-şi adună banii potriviţi pentru bilet. Se părea că aveau de aşteptat binişor şi, căutând ceva cu care să-şi omoare timpul, se trezi privind o fetiţă care stătea în picioare sub marginea marchizei.
Avea părul cel mai lung şi cel mai ciudat pe care-l văzuse dna Miller vreodată: argintiu-sclipitor, ca de albinos. I se revărsa, mătăsos şi bogat, până la talie. Fetiţa era slăbuţă, de constituţie fragilă. O anume eleganţă naturală se degaja din felul cum sta cu degetele mari ale mâinilor înfipte în buzunarele unui palton de velur, culoarea prunei.
January 2, 2022
American writer Truman Capote wrote the story “Miriam” at the age of 19.
According to the plot, an elderly woman, Miriam Miller, lives alone after the death of her husband. She gets insurance from this and it is enough to allow herself some excesses. For example, Miriam sometimes goes to the movies. For an elderly person, this is undoubtedly a nice form of entertainment.
During one such exit from the cinema, she meets a little girl at the box office who is richly dressed and even has a gold chain around her neck. The young girl introduces herself and it turns out that her name is also Miriam. She asks the elderly woman to buy her a ticket, as the girl has never been to the cinema before.
The story represents the theme of loneliness and egoism. Through the aspect of mysticism, the author expresses the fears of a child who sits inside all of us and brings us to tears and despair.
Here is the link to the text of the story:
https://literaryfictions.com/fiction-...
According to the plot, an elderly woman, Miriam Miller, lives alone after the death of her husband. She gets insurance from this and it is enough to allow herself some excesses. For example, Miriam sometimes goes to the movies. For an elderly person, this is undoubtedly a nice form of entertainment.
During one such exit from the cinema, she meets a little girl at the box office who is richly dressed and even has a gold chain around her neck. The young girl introduces herself and it turns out that her name is also Miriam. She asks the elderly woman to buy her a ticket, as the girl has never been to the cinema before.
The story represents the theme of loneliness and egoism. Through the aspect of mysticism, the author expresses the fears of a child who sits inside all of us and brings us to tears and despair.
Here is the link to the text of the story:
https://literaryfictions.com/fiction-...
January 15, 2024
Creepy little girls are always a classic trope in horror fiction, and Miriam herself is definitely a sinister example. She worms herself into the life of a lonely widower and wears this poor woman down to the point of insanity (unless said widower is insane to begin with, and Miriam is just a figment of her imagination). I have several speculations about what this story could possibly mean or symbolize, yet the more I attempt to rationalize it, the more questions I have.
Don’t be deceived by this story’s simplistic language. You’ll be thinking about it for hours after you finish it. Highly recommend.
Don’t be deceived by this story’s simplistic language. You’ll be thinking about it for hours after you finish it. Highly recommend.
November 17, 2025
Now, I am quite the psychology nerd, and at first, I don’t quite get the point of this short story. Which is my bad, to be honest, but upon looking into it, I realized that that little girl was a representation of schizophrenia and that the narrator of the story was just so lonely that she was hallucinating a girl as almost an act of self-preservation that was simultaneously driving her insane. In short, I think this short story was a lovely representation of schizophrenia developing as a form trauma response. Honestly, just the perfect short story. (Unless the author is cancelled, but I’m not sure, so please don’t call me out!!!)
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
November 10, 2022
A thoroughly enjoying tale from the days of delightfully detailed writing. It is no small wonder that Bennett Cerf signed this 'unknown' author after reading 'Miriam' and inviting Truman Capote to a meeting in his 'Random House' publishing office: "It was Bob Linscott who called my attention to... an unknown writer called Truman Capote... We asked Truman Capote to come see us... We said we wanted to publish anything he wrote. He said he was writing a novel, and we drew up a contract for it immediately." (From: At Random: The Reminiscences of Bennett Cerf). A quick and enjoyable read!
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