(Book #78) Chris hosted Bark, a collection of short stories by Lorrie Moore. We started with great wine, pepperoni, cheese and crackers. In the dining room we enjoyed Cornish hens, butternut ravioli, salad and little toasts. Dessert was a triumphant Lemon Meringue pie.
Discussion was stunted by those of us who just don’t like a short story but Chris and I emailed about all that we appreciated. Moore just has such an eye and such a talent for presenting all that she sees so cleverly. Here are some favorite quotes:
“The bridesmaids were in pastels: one the light peach of baby aspirin; one the seafoam green of low-dose clonazepam; the other the pale daffodil of the next lowest dose of clonazepam.”
“Was not everything fixable? This age of disposables, was it not also an age of fantastic adhesives?”
Living did not mean joy piled upon another. It was merely the hope for less pain, hope played like a playing card upon another hope, a wish for kindnesses and mercies to emerge like kings and queens in an unexpected change of the game. One could hold the cards for oneself or not: they would land the same regardless. Tenderness did not enter except in a damaged way and by luck.
And here’s the bad dog pun filled thank-you email:
Subject: Beware of Bad Dog (puns) Dear Chris, Thank you so much for the hounderful evening. The whine was frisky yet domesticated, and the yappetizers were delicious. I couldn’t keep my paws off the pupperoni or the delicktable cheese — and the biscuits were a great treat. They made me feel, I don’t know, good, like I’d done the right thing by coming.
Conversation about the book was high-spirited, there was a lot of yelping and yipping about the sharpei story form but most agreed this writerrier is quite a tailented bitch.
Respectfully submissive, Teresa