What We Talk About When We Talk About Love

sei bravo, bravissimo.
Quelle tue scene scarne eppure dettagliate, quei momenti di vita insignificanti eppure stravolgenti.
Però c'è un problema: Carver, mi deprimi.
La tua piccola umanità sfinita, sfibrata, sfiorita, di sicuro alcolizzata, mi deprime all'ennesima potenza.
Fai venire un po' anche a me voglia di bere.
Perciò sei bravo, ma credo che dopo questa seconda raccolta di racconti non ti leggerò più.
Addio.

"Carver's fictioon is so spare in manner that it takes time before one realizes how completely a whole culture and a moral condition is represented by even the most seemingly slight sketch..."
I think that Keromde's review represent perfectly what Carver's novels are: perfect pictures of real life made using as less details as possible.
At the end of each story, this realization comes and one can't help but feel amazed.

Carver's stories cut you open, leave you with a sense of longing for completeness, for following the characters' fate. The story that gives the name to this collection, What we talk about when we talk about love, is simply breathtaking. Expect the unexpected with Carver.

il libro, ovviamente, non parla d'amore, ma dice moltissimo sull'amore ...
And the terrible thing, the terrible thing is, but the good thing too, the saving grace, you might say, is that if something happened to one of us... but if something happened to one of us tomorrow, I think the other one , the other person, would grieve for a while, you know, but then the surviving party would go out and love again...