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The Tiger in the Grass: Stories and Other Inventions
In her first collection of stories and pieces, Harriet Doerr explores the magical power of memory and brings us a wealth of unforgettable characters: eccentric eighty-two-year-old Great-Aunt Alice, who, empowered by a lucid memory, lived out her final, physically debilitated years with grace; Edie, who arrives in California from England to bring sanity and peace to a house with five half-orphaned children and a despairing widower; Paco, eight years old, and Gloria, eleven, children caught between the longing and pleasures of childhood and the harsh mature realities of their meager circumstances in a Mexican village. These and other characters are captured in the web of life with a startling sensitivity that will touch the reader at every turn.
“Strikingly pure and radiant.”— The New York Times Book Review
“Strikingly pure and radiant.”— The New York Times Book Review
224 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1995
14 people are currently reading
212 people want to read
About the author
Harriet Doerr
9 books36 followersHarriet Doerr (April 8, 1910 – November 24, 2002) was an American author whose debut novel was published at the age of 74.
A granddaughter of California railroad magnate and noted collector of art and rare books, Henry Edwards Huntington, Doerr grew up in a Pasadena, California, family that encouraged intellectual endeavors. She enrolled in Smith College in 1927, but transferred to Stanford University the following year. In 1930, after her junior year, she left school to marry Albert Doerr, Jr., a Stanford '30 graduate whom she had known in Pasadena. The Doerrs spent the next 25 years in Pasadena.
Albert Doerr's family owned a copper mine in the Mexican state of Aguascalientes, and in the late 1950s, the Doerrs moved to Mexico where Albert was engaged in restoring the mine. They remained until 1972, when Albert died ten years after being diagnosed with leukemia. The time she spent in this small Mexican mining town would later provide her with the subject matter and settings for much of her writing.
Following her husband's death, Harriet Doerr returned to California. At the suggestion of her son Michael, she decided to finish the education which had been interrupted so long before by her marriage. She enrolled once again at Stanford, and in 1977, received a BA in European history. While at Stanford she began writing and earned a Stegner Fellowship in 1979. She soon began publishing short stories.
Her first novel Stones for Ibarra was published in 1984 and won that year's National Book Award for First Work of Fiction. Her second novel, Consider this, Senora, was published in 1993, and a collection of short stories and essays, Tiger in the Grass: Stories and other Inventions followed in 1995. A television adaptation of Stones for Ibarra was presented by Hallmark Hall of Fame in 1988.
Doerr died in Pasadena in 2002.
A granddaughter of California railroad magnate and noted collector of art and rare books, Henry Edwards Huntington, Doerr grew up in a Pasadena, California, family that encouraged intellectual endeavors. She enrolled in Smith College in 1927, but transferred to Stanford University the following year. In 1930, after her junior year, she left school to marry Albert Doerr, Jr., a Stanford '30 graduate whom she had known in Pasadena. The Doerrs spent the next 25 years in Pasadena.
Albert Doerr's family owned a copper mine in the Mexican state of Aguascalientes, and in the late 1950s, the Doerrs moved to Mexico where Albert was engaged in restoring the mine. They remained until 1972, when Albert died ten years after being diagnosed with leukemia. The time she spent in this small Mexican mining town would later provide her with the subject matter and settings for much of her writing.
Following her husband's death, Harriet Doerr returned to California. At the suggestion of her son Michael, she decided to finish the education which had been interrupted so long before by her marriage. She enrolled once again at Stanford, and in 1977, received a BA in European history. While at Stanford she began writing and earned a Stegner Fellowship in 1979. She soon began publishing short stories.
Her first novel Stones for Ibarra was published in 1984 and won that year's National Book Award for First Work of Fiction. Her second novel, Consider this, Senora, was published in 1993, and a collection of short stories and essays, Tiger in the Grass: Stories and other Inventions followed in 1995. A television adaptation of Stones for Ibarra was presented by Hallmark Hall of Fame in 1988.
Doerr died in Pasadena in 2002.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 35 reviews
January 13, 2010
What a sense for language! I recall that I previously read Stones for Ibarra and like it - but did not flip over it. But this book, while taking us back to Ibarra in some of the short stories (and to other places in Mexico in many others) really hits me differently. Perhaps I have changed and am not more sensitive to beauty in prose than before. In any case, there is beauty in this short read. I particularly liked the final sections.
January 16, 2018
Doerr’s title and the first story in this collection comes from a visit to her optometrist. She was in her 80’s and she was hoping aloud that she didn’t lose sight in her right eye as she only had peripheral vision in her left. The doctor responded, “Don’t belittle peripheral vision. That’s how we see the tiger in the grass…It’s also how the tiger sees us.” And she knew then, that she had always known this tiger in the grass, but never had a name for him.
The vision seems to follow us throughout the stories she presents in this volume. The stories are written late in life, when on her 85th birthday her dying son reminds her that she needs to write her memories. As her son is dying she reflects so starkly what all mother’s must reflect in their heart of hearts not only about their children, but our reponses to them as our planet tilts beyond our grasp.
“I think of all our children. Let us celebrate the light-haired, the dark-haired, and the redheads, the tall ones and the short ones, the black-eyed, brown-eyed, and blue-eyed, the straight ones and the gay ones. Let us celebrate our vision, clear or clouded, central or peripheral. Let us celebrate our uneasy foothold on our shaken planet.”
The rest of the stories are a combination of the enchanted and the beautiful as witnessed in her life or her imagination. In them it is easy to see that Harriet Doerr is haunted by Mexico. She writes in variations on the theme of her Mexico experience. She writes in the harmonies of chamber music, where each chord is clear, resonant and carves out the lay of the land, the sound of the people, a profusion and preciousness of wildflowers. She captures in a tender way the dichotomy of her life in contrast to the indigenous population. There is no sonorous pathos accompanying her contrasts, but quiet observation; sometimes tragic evolutions, often wry appreciation.
This book is rich in language, story line, characters and splashes large color over the stark background of her view and of her experience. This book is her last. Here she is putting the last images of her life down on paper.
The vision seems to follow us throughout the stories she presents in this volume. The stories are written late in life, when on her 85th birthday her dying son reminds her that she needs to write her memories. As her son is dying she reflects so starkly what all mother’s must reflect in their heart of hearts not only about their children, but our reponses to them as our planet tilts beyond our grasp.
“I think of all our children. Let us celebrate the light-haired, the dark-haired, and the redheads, the tall ones and the short ones, the black-eyed, brown-eyed, and blue-eyed, the straight ones and the gay ones. Let us celebrate our vision, clear or clouded, central or peripheral. Let us celebrate our uneasy foothold on our shaken planet.”
The rest of the stories are a combination of the enchanted and the beautiful as witnessed in her life or her imagination. In them it is easy to see that Harriet Doerr is haunted by Mexico. She writes in variations on the theme of her Mexico experience. She writes in the harmonies of chamber music, where each chord is clear, resonant and carves out the lay of the land, the sound of the people, a profusion and preciousness of wildflowers. She captures in a tender way the dichotomy of her life in contrast to the indigenous population. There is no sonorous pathos accompanying her contrasts, but quiet observation; sometimes tragic evolutions, often wry appreciation.
This book is rich in language, story line, characters and splashes large color over the stark background of her view and of her experience. This book is her last. Here she is putting the last images of her life down on paper.
March 23, 2008
We read this delightful book of short pieces for our book club. Her writing is an opening onto a beautifully felt and realized world of sight, smell, touch and feeling. Her writing is simple and graceful. It is like reading poetry.
November 2, 2014
Can't stop thinking about this. So glad daughter-in-law Karen shared the same enthusiasm when I was finishing it. Doerr's prose imagery is lasting and spawning of more and more thoughts. Audio version on a road trip.
February 14, 2017
Harriet Doerr wrote two novels and this book of short stories. One could read her total works over a weekend. This is one of those authors that I really cannot say why I love their writing, except for the sense of place. You can just see the Mexico that she describes.
June 8, 2024
Interesting characters and settings captured on the page—stories to settle into. I first loved Harriet Doerr’s Consider This, Senora and have now enjoyed whatever other writings I could find of hers.
July 2, 2024
Meh. No big feelings. Felt like a blur
February 3, 2022
There's a magic to her writing. I loved all three of her books. The stories entranced me but I especially loved the autobiographical pieces. I wish she'd written more in her lifetime.
March 27, 2008
This is a book you never want to finish. As you come closer to the end, you find yourself reading more and more slowly. Then, when you do finish, you feel like starting again at the beginning.
Harriet Doerr writes so tenderly with such evocative prose and economy of language that you lose yourself in it. Each of these stories and "inventions", polished by memory, is a gem. Written for a son who was dying of cancer, it was to be a brief account of her long life. The title comes from a conversation with her ophthamologist who told her not to belittle her remaining peripheral vision. "That's how we see the tiger in the grass." Then he added, "It's also how the tiger sees us." One's inner self that senses and feels more than it knows?
Harriet Doerr writes so tenderly with such evocative prose and economy of language that you lose yourself in it. Each of these stories and "inventions", polished by memory, is a gem. Written for a son who was dying of cancer, it was to be a brief account of her long life. The title comes from a conversation with her ophthamologist who told her not to belittle her remaining peripheral vision. "That's how we see the tiger in the grass." Then he added, "It's also how the tiger sees us." One's inner self that senses and feels more than it knows?
January 23, 2020
Harriet Doerr was a wordsmith. I'm not the biggest fan of short stories except when they're written by Doerr. Her best story, in my opinion, is the last one. I found myself reading more slowly, not wanting it to end. I underlined sentences throughout the book because of their sheer beauty. I imagine that for a woman of such intelligence and rich life experience that writing came quite naturally; easy, if you will. But I found the following quote from her daughter in an article from the Stanford Magazine.
"Doerr worked tirelessly and meticulously, typically writing about one sentence per hour. “She was a perfectionist,” Toppin says. “Each word was chosen carefully. Mother had to hear the word rise in her brain and flow down all the length of her arm, through her hand, through the pencil, onto the page.”"
This book is a little gem.
"Doerr worked tirelessly and meticulously, typically writing about one sentence per hour. “She was a perfectionist,” Toppin says. “Each word was chosen carefully. Mother had to hear the word rise in her brain and flow down all the length of her arm, through her hand, through the pencil, onto the page.”"
This book is a little gem.
September 21, 2020
Beautiful writing! Harriett Doerr is an observer of the normal and everyday event and makes it into a story to remember. The Tiger in the Grass...
Read the preface to get a feel for this talented writer who came to wrting in a round about way later in life. If you are not familiar with her, read Stones for Ibarra, her first novel written when she was 74!
Read the preface to get a feel for this talented writer who came to wrting in a round about way later in life. If you are not familiar with her, read Stones for Ibarra, her first novel written when she was 74!
December 2, 2018
Fine example of "visual writing," with memorable imagery increasing the stories' emotional impact.
November 30, 2019
Beautifully written, savoured every word this book, will read again.
December 5, 2021
The first couple of stories were good but the rest were pretty dull.
January 18, 2022
Done in Doerr's signature, lovely style but it doesn't touch "Stones for Ibarra".
November 22, 2024
Delightful stories; certainly some more appealing than others. Beautifully written. I think I got tired of the format and preferred a compelling plot.
February 16, 2025
Great stories!
August 24, 2014
In one of the pieces in this book—hard to know where the fictional begins and the autobiographical ends—the author writes, “I think of what it is like to write stories. It is a completion. It is discovering something you didn’t know you’d lost. It is finding an answer to a question you never asked.” All the stories contain answers but few punch lines; the point is to be found somewhere else, buried. These are tales told with some subtlety and charm, two words that probably felt they’d fun out of mileage some years ago but they’re hanging in there.
One reviewer on Amazon said, “This collection of short stories feels like a lot of snippets that she didn't know where to fit into her novels.” She still gave the collection four stars so I don’t think the mark was intended to be disparaging but it does say something about the general tone of the pieces; the points they make are not grand but there to make you think.
Mexico features prominently in the collection and the stories are paced accordingly; none is in a rush to get anywhere and she’s fond of describing everything. Which she does beautifully—she never puts a foot wrong—but, personally, I found most of the stories dragged their feet and she struggled to hold my attention. I was, frankly, puzzled by the five-star reviews especially when Kirkus Review describes these as, “Largely forgettable short works by the acclaimed author of the Mexico-set Stones for Ibarra (published in 1984, when Doerr was 73) and Consider This, Señora (1993). […] It seems fair to say that this fragile volume wasn't subjected to very rigorous editing, and that much of its content need not have been preserved.” I’m afraid I have to agree with them. I wanted to like this and some of it I did. There were some touching moments like in the title story where a mother whose son is now dying of cancer remembers that his first word was ‘car’ and he’s now just been informed that he can no longer drive.
Her novels seem to have garnered much more praise. I think I should have started with one of them. Because she clearly has something. I started this review with a quote. Perhaps if you now read it in context you’ll see where I’m coming from and why some readers have imagined this is a better book than what it is:
One reviewer on Amazon said, “This collection of short stories feels like a lot of snippets that she didn't know where to fit into her novels.” She still gave the collection four stars so I don’t think the mark was intended to be disparaging but it does say something about the general tone of the pieces; the points they make are not grand but there to make you think.
Mexico features prominently in the collection and the stories are paced accordingly; none is in a rush to get anywhere and she’s fond of describing everything. Which she does beautifully—she never puts a foot wrong—but, personally, I found most of the stories dragged their feet and she struggled to hold my attention. I was, frankly, puzzled by the five-star reviews especially when Kirkus Review describes these as, “Largely forgettable short works by the acclaimed author of the Mexico-set Stones for Ibarra (published in 1984, when Doerr was 73) and Consider This, Señora (1993). […] It seems fair to say that this fragile volume wasn't subjected to very rigorous editing, and that much of its content need not have been preserved.” I’m afraid I have to agree with them. I wanted to like this and some of it I did. There were some touching moments like in the title story where a mother whose son is now dying of cancer remembers that his first word was ‘car’ and he’s now just been informed that he can no longer drive.
Her novels seem to have garnered much more praise. I think I should have started with one of them. Because she clearly has something. I started this review with a quote. Perhaps if you now read it in context you’ll see where I’m coming from and why some readers have imagined this is a better book than what it is:
I think of a conference in Park City, Utah, where I spoke one afternoon to a number of published and unpublished writers. I explained my late start as an author after forty-two years of writing “housewife” on my income tax form. These years without a profession, from 1930 to 1972, were also the years of my marriage. Hands were raised after my talk, and I answered questions. The final one was from a woman who assumed, incorrectly, these were decades of frustration. “And were you happy for those forty-two years?” she asked, and I couldn’t believe the question. I asked her to repeat it, and she said again, “Were you happy for those forty-two years?”If all the stories had been of a similar standard to the opening one I would’ve been more generous with my stars but, sadly, they were not.
It was then that I said, “I never heard of anyone being happy for forty-two years,” and went on, “And would a person who was happy for forty-two years write a book?”
My son called to say he was dying. He had fallen down and couldn’t get up.
I think of what it is like to write stories. It is a completion. It is discovering something you didn’t know you’d lost. It is finding an answer to a question you never asked.
February 16, 2024
I'm already sad that I have only one more Doerr remaining to read. There are just three titles. I first fell in love with her writing in
Stones for Ibarra
which I've often said is my all time favorite book. Then came
Consider This, Señora
(the one remaining to read), and this title, the last book she would write.
Her very limited canon is because, in spite of having a very long life, dying at 92 years old, she only began writing when she was in her late sixties.
In her long life, she must have been collecting, savoring, and "taking heaven pictures" like a friend of mine once called moments captured on the film only in your mind. Doerr described her heaven pictures like this in a passage about a sunset after a day at the beach with her young children and young husband, "exerting the full force of my will" she would "hold up the sun, hold back the wave, long enough for me to paint and frame the low tide."
I forgive this collection of short stories -- some autobiographical, some not, some better than others, some out of step or odd to be included with the group -- because she knew she was aging, going blind, and must have known this would be her last collection.
But an uneven collection by Doerr is still something splendid! She can write like no other writer I've read. She indeed does paint and frame. It is immersive to read her, especially if you read her slow, like I did intentionally. Her use of language is as careful as the best poetry, is sparce and sharp. With one sentence and with one phrase in that sentence, you know the resentments, the laments, the long history of moments of happiness or unhappiness of a character. Doerr grants you room to think for yourself, to be still in a place you've never been, to grow to love people who you'll never meet or have never existed. In between her passages, you love your own life because it is yours.
I couldn't be happier this was the first book I selected for my 2024 reading adventures.
Her very limited canon is because, in spite of having a very long life, dying at 92 years old, she only began writing when she was in her late sixties.
In her long life, she must have been collecting, savoring, and "taking heaven pictures" like a friend of mine once called moments captured on the film only in your mind. Doerr described her heaven pictures like this in a passage about a sunset after a day at the beach with her young children and young husband, "exerting the full force of my will" she would "hold up the sun, hold back the wave, long enough for me to paint and frame the low tide."
I forgive this collection of short stories -- some autobiographical, some not, some better than others, some out of step or odd to be included with the group -- because she knew she was aging, going blind, and must have known this would be her last collection.
But an uneven collection by Doerr is still something splendid! She can write like no other writer I've read. She indeed does paint and frame. It is immersive to read her, especially if you read her slow, like I did intentionally. Her use of language is as careful as the best poetry, is sparce and sharp. With one sentence and with one phrase in that sentence, you know the resentments, the laments, the long history of moments of happiness or unhappiness of a character. Doerr grants you room to think for yourself, to be still in a place you've never been, to grow to love people who you'll never meet or have never existed. In between her passages, you love your own life because it is yours.
I couldn't be happier this was the first book I selected for my 2024 reading adventures.
February 27, 2014
A remarkable book. I've been reading sections to everyone I know for the last two weeks, starting on the walk home from the library. I was looking for a book by Anthony Doerr and saw this 2005 hardback version by the author of Stones from Ibarra (a huge favorite of mine from the 80's).
Well, from the first sentence I was in Doerr's hands/written words...I have read the first two pages to at least 15 people, especially my seniors, "Yesterday was my 85th birthday..." Then I show the students her brief account of a long life, about 30 pages. If they let me I also read them from the 4th section on Memories, "Sleeves of Rain."
Doerr's "stories and other inventions" are the work of a great writer and one who makes it easy for me to show students what can be done using simple techniques (narrowing memories into categories, like homes lived in...) Particularly the personal pieces are great teaching examples of memoir writing.
In between are stories, mostly from the Mexico years, similar to the characters we have met in Stones for Ibarra and Consider This, Senora. Of these stories I will say that Mexico can be very harsh. Her writing is always spare and yet lovely, but I wish I had not read the story "Saint's Day." Too painful. Just don't go there.
Finding this on the shelf was a revelation for me and boy have I done a lot of sharing since.
Well, from the first sentence I was in Doerr's hands/written words...I have read the first two pages to at least 15 people, especially my seniors, "Yesterday was my 85th birthday..." Then I show the students her brief account of a long life, about 30 pages. If they let me I also read them from the 4th section on Memories, "Sleeves of Rain."
Doerr's "stories and other inventions" are the work of a great writer and one who makes it easy for me to show students what can be done using simple techniques (narrowing memories into categories, like homes lived in...) Particularly the personal pieces are great teaching examples of memoir writing.
In between are stories, mostly from the Mexico years, similar to the characters we have met in Stones for Ibarra and Consider This, Senora. Of these stories I will say that Mexico can be very harsh. Her writing is always spare and yet lovely, but I wish I had not read the story "Saint's Day." Too painful. Just don't go there.
Finding this on the shelf was a revelation for me and boy have I done a lot of sharing since.
July 6, 2008
A selection of short stories and vignettes and essays that Doerr wrote at various times during her career. They are good but not as good as her book Stones for Ibarra. I like the way she plays with the language where she seems to think of a theme and then writes about it. There are remembrances from her days in early California along the beach before it became the Mecca that it is today. Memories of Mexico where she lived for a number of years. Good writing but not great.
October 6, 2012
Harriet Doerr writes beautifully intimate portraits of family in this collection of her stories.
I felt as if I was in the room watching these people.
Her love of the sea comes through the characters as well.
She reminds us of the constantness of people's lives and how we are on this planet for such a short time and we never know what life will bring for us.
There is a temperate sadness in her words and a triumph of lives lived on and on doing the best we can.
I felt as if I was in the room watching these people.
Her love of the sea comes through the characters as well.
She reminds us of the constantness of people's lives and how we are on this planet for such a short time and we never know what life will bring for us.
There is a temperate sadness in her words and a triumph of lives lived on and on doing the best we can.
February 1, 2017
This book is a combination of memories and stories and presumably their intersection. And it is, like Doerr's other works, simply marvelous. Set in Mexico and California in the 20th century, her work looks for beauty in people and in places and she finds it where the rest of us might not. She gentles raging emotions and moves us toward peace, for her characters, and by example, perhaps for ourselves.
She started publishing late in life and her body of work is small. READ IT ALL.
She started publishing late in life and her body of work is small. READ IT ALL.
Want to read
May 25, 2024Read so far:
The tiger in the grass --2
First work: The flowering stick --
Carnations --
The extinguishing of Great-Aunt Alice --
*Mexico: The seasons --
Sun, pure air, and a view --
The local train --
*Way stations --
The watchman at the gate --
Saint's day --
Memory: Please --
Low tide at four --
Like heaven --
A sleeve of rain --
Edie: a life--4
***
Another short day in La Luz--3
The tiger in the grass --2
First work: The flowering stick --
Carnations --
The extinguishing of Great-Aunt Alice --
*Mexico: The seasons --
Sun, pure air, and a view --
The local train --
*Way stations --
The watchman at the gate --
Saint's day --
Memory: Please --
Low tide at four --
Like heaven --
A sleeve of rain --
Edie: a life--4
***
Another short day in La Luz--3
Read
March 22, 2024I enjoyed the stories about Mexico because they related to Doerr'sother book which I really liked and should read again The other pieces--not so much. Did not read all of them.
March 22, 2024 I reread many of the stories. Strange, depressing. Enough. Don't think I will finish. Some of the characters are the ones in her novels--Richard, the owner of the mine, and his wife.
March 22, 2024 I reread many of the stories. Strange, depressing. Enough. Don't think I will finish. Some of the characters are the ones in her novels--Richard, the owner of the mine, and his wife.
January 7, 2008
Doerr was a fabulous writer; an inspiration to those of us who have come to writing later in life. This book is packed with sentiment, powerful images and a voice that whispers in your ear. Wonderful.
Read
January 20, 2015I listened to this book on tape and since the chapters were all jumbled, I listened to some twice. Eventually I decided I could not keep all female characters apart, and since most, or perhaps, all stories dealt with life in Mexico, I also could not keep the stories apart. Abandonment followed.
April 6, 2008
Very enjoyable.
The author is quite inspiring - she was first published quite late in life.
Her first book Stones for Ibarra won the National Book Award.
The author is quite inspiring - she was first published quite late in life.
Her first book Stones for Ibarra won the National Book Award.
April 29, 2008
Short stories from Harriet Doerr who writes with very simple, but elegant prose. I believe this was her last publication before her death.
May 7, 2009
Harriett Doerr is a wonderful writer. These are short stories and they are beautiful.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 35 reviews