'No value has been put on human life; it it given to us free and is taken without being paid for.'
I took a break from the Carver simply because I was going away for a week, and Where I'm Calling From weighs a ton. The McCullers, on the other hand, is a slim volume comprised of seven stories. Perfect, then, and no lightweight.
The Ballad Of The Sad Café takes up most of the space in this collection. It's a novella that I wasn't sure about at first. There are too many adjectives in strings for my liking and it took a good while to set the scene. By the end, however, I was rattling through it, soaking up the changes as the ending approached, which is an impressive conversion.
It's set in a small southern town in the US. At the opening, there's very little to do there. Most go to work and return home to rest up so that they can turn up for work at the factory again. There's some hanging around, drinking and gossiping, but it's a sorry place before and after the events that are recounted.
Miss Amelia is our central character. She owns a large building in the centre of town, treats the sick for nothing with home remedies (after trialling each of the medications and potions on herself first) and brews the best corn whiskey in the state. She's a tough old bird, physically strong and durable and is held in awe by local residents.
To her name, she has a failed marriage to one Marvin Macy. He was a cruel and heartless beast until the time he fell for Miss Amelia. After a hard upbringing, he decided to improve himself in order to win the hand of the one he loved. He learned manners and etiquette and eventually married.
Amelia treated her husband in curious ways, leading to his leaving their home after barely a week of wedlock. Off the rails once more, consumed by the leaking emotions of his broken heart, he ended up in prison.
It's all feeling miserable by the time this has been relayed. And here, just at the point where the novella has become dull enough to give up on, arrives a new character. He's in a state of disrepair, a mysterious man of short stature with a significant hump and body that's all out of proportion. He tells Amelia they are related, though the link is distant, and she takes him under her wing immediately. It's as if he's cast a spell on her. He gets the best bed, the best treatment and the best hospitality that can be offered in these parts. It appears that Amelia has fallen in love.
This new relationship is unsettling. There's something about the uneven and unfair balance of power. Cousin Lymon takes advantage of every situation, yet he has charm and humour when required and is the catalyst to the setting up of a new restaurant in town. Everyone takes a turn to visit. It's the centre of all things. Fine food is eaten, there's happiness, discussion and stimulation galore.
Until Marvin Macy returns.
A new dynamic takes over. This one is full of bitterness and tension. Loyalties shift and it's clear that one day things will erupt. The only thing in doubt is the outcome.
It's an unusual tale permeated with sinister moments and unusual events. None of the characters is uniform, each having significant quirks and contradictions. The energy and turbulence generated by events is powerful and menacing. It's like setting off on a day's walk in the hills when there's light rain and a chill wind, but the lure of a positive forecast tempts you out anyway; and then the brief sunny spell turns into a tempest and you're soaked to the skin and chilled to the bone and wondering if you'll ever make it home again.
The Ballad Of The Sad Café began as an exercise of effort and uncertainty and became a moving piece that I'd recommend. Rather different and ultimately captivating.
I've read on into the book since then. The variety is impressive.
How glad am I that this fitted snuggly into my rucksack?
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