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770 pages, Paperback
First published October 20, 1999
"Why get an MFA?" Ron Carlson once rhetorically asked when the subject came up in his workshop. "You can publish without one. The only reason you need an MFA is if you want to teach." Administrators across the country have arguments against this assertion. They might find some supporting evidence in the end pages of The Workshop: Seven Decades of the Iowa Writers' Workshop.
Of course the anthology is mostly comprised of a lot of good stories if you like stories with trouble in them. "A Solo Song: For Doc” is more than just historical fiction about how a railroad retired a black man, a “waiter’s waiter.” Besides race, James Alan McPherson embeds ageism and sexism into the plot.
Allan Gurganus’ “Blessed Assurance: a Moral Tale” uses death and race to keep the plot rising. It has so many subplots that payoff, too. The narrator’s embrace of grace at the end, rather than epiphany marks it as a good post-postmodern long story.
Kim Edwards' "The Story of My Life" was one of my favorites, the theme being a child loved for her symbolism rather than her essence. The plot also seem seems prescient considering what happened to Dr. George Tiller on May 31, 2009."
Editor Tom Grimes' prefaces for each decade are just long enough to put the stories in historical context, the ending of wars and equality for women being to forces clearly at work in the stories themselves.
The authors' commentaries and recollections occasionally include a good vignette. The administration of creative writing gets unromantic takes from John Leggett and R.V. Cassill. It's ironic that their rhetoric is the backwards argument that creative writing survives both the internal assault by often "emotionally needy and unreliable" faculty and "writing programs taking on the the colors of regular academic programs" (710, 753). Perhaps creative writing pedagogy is teaching reasons to doubt and hope in the process and then listening and reading for evidence of those things in our students.
DISCLOSURE: I attended The Napa Writers' Conference and had workshops there with several of the writers in the anthology, so I might've had an edge imagining these voices.
Later at SDSU, Jerry Bumpus, who earns distinction as the only writer who could actually write in Kenny's Bar (741), was my thesis chair, and he saved me a lot of wear & tear on life & car by allowing me to work on my thesis in his backyard in Escondido. At my MFA reading, Bumpus introduced me on stage at The Belly Up Tavern, where I'd enhanced my pay from teaching by bartending a couple of times a week. Bumpus seemed happy for me that I could get any kind of work done with all that beer, music, dancing, ping-pong and pool going on all around. Commute to school, get a commuter's recollection.