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The Coast of Chicago: Stories
The stolid landscape of Chicago suddenly turns dreamlike and otherworldly in Stuart Dybek's classic story collection.
A child's collection of bottle caps becomes the tombstones of a graveyard. A lowly rightfielder's inexplicable death turns him into a martyr to baseball. Strains of Chopin floating down the tenement airshaft are transformed into a mysterious anthem of loss.
Combining homely detail and heartbreakingly familiar voices with grand leaps of imagination, The Coast of Chicago is a masterpiece from one of America's most highly regarded writers.
A child's collection of bottle caps becomes the tombstones of a graveyard. A lowly rightfielder's inexplicable death turns him into a martyr to baseball. Strains of Chopin floating down the tenement airshaft are transformed into a mysterious anthem of loss.
Combining homely detail and heartbreakingly familiar voices with grand leaps of imagination, The Coast of Chicago is a masterpiece from one of America's most highly regarded writers.
192 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1990
110 people are currently reading
3051 people want to read
About the author
Stuart Dybek
64 books216 followersStuart Dybek has published three short story collections: Childhood and Other Neighborhoods, The Coast of Chicago, and I Sailed With Magellan; and two volumes of poetry: Brass Knuckles and Streets in Their Own Ink. He has been anthologized frequently and regularly appears in magazines such as the New Yorker, the Atlantic, Harper’s Magazine and the Paris Review.
He has received numerous awards, including: a 1998 Lannan Award; the 1995 PEN/Bernard Malamud Prize "for distinctive achievement in the short story"; an Academy Institute Award in Fiction from the American Academy of Arts and Letters in 1994; a Guggenheim Fellowship; two fellowships from the NEA; a residency at the Rockefeller Foundation's Bellagio Center; and a Whiting Writers Award. He has also received four O. Henry Prizes, including an O. Henry first prize for his story, "Hot Ice." Dybek's story, "Blight," was awarded the Nelson Algren Prize and his collection, Childhood and Other Neighborhoods, which was nominated for the National Book Critics' Circle Award, received the 1981 Prize for Fiction from the Society of Midland Authors and the Cliff Dwellers Award from the Friends of Literature.
Dybek grew up on Chicago’s South Side in a Polish-American neighborhood called Pilsen or Little Village, which is also the main setting for his fiction. He received an M.A. in Literature from Loyola University in Chicago and an M.F.A. from the University of Iowa. He teaches at Western Michigan University when he is not in Chicago.
He has received numerous awards, including: a 1998 Lannan Award; the 1995 PEN/Bernard Malamud Prize "for distinctive achievement in the short story"; an Academy Institute Award in Fiction from the American Academy of Arts and Letters in 1994; a Guggenheim Fellowship; two fellowships from the NEA; a residency at the Rockefeller Foundation's Bellagio Center; and a Whiting Writers Award. He has also received four O. Henry Prizes, including an O. Henry first prize for his story, "Hot Ice." Dybek's story, "Blight," was awarded the Nelson Algren Prize and his collection, Childhood and Other Neighborhoods, which was nominated for the National Book Critics' Circle Award, received the 1981 Prize for Fiction from the Society of Midland Authors and the Cliff Dwellers Award from the Friends of Literature.
Dybek grew up on Chicago’s South Side in a Polish-American neighborhood called Pilsen or Little Village, which is also the main setting for his fiction. He received an M.A. in Literature from Loyola University in Chicago and an M.F.A. from the University of Iowa. He teaches at Western Michigan University when he is not in Chicago.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 286 reviews
March 1, 2023
Windy lake shore… Wintry winds… Cityscapes in winter…
The stories Chopin in Winter and Blight are magnificent and they reminded me of Jack Kerouac
Hot Ice written more or less in Charles Bukowski’s mode is excellent as well.
The rest is pretty good.
Bright lights, big city… In big cities life is different.
It was a winter night, snowing. His apartment building was the last one on the block where the street dead-ended against the lake. Behind a snow-clotted cyclone fence, the tennis courts were drifted over, and beyond the courts and a small, lakeside park, a white pier extended to a green beacon. Snow had obliterated the outlines of sidewalks and curbs and that night the pier looked as if it was a continuation of the street, as if Farwell lengthened out into the lake. I walked out toward the beacon. Ice, sculpted by waves and spray, encrusted the pier. The guard cables and beacon tower were sheathed in ice. In the frozen quiet, I could hear the lake rasping in under the floes and feel the pier shudder, and as I walked back toward the apartment building I thought I heard singing.
The stories Chopin in Winter and Blight are magnificent and they reminded me of Jack Kerouac
There seemed to be some unspoken relationship between being nameless and being a loser. Watching the guys from Korea after their ball games as they hung around under the buzzing neon signs of their taverns, guzzling beers and flipping the softball, I got the strange feeling that they had actually chosen anonymity and the loserhood that went with it. It was something they looked for in one another, that held them together.
Hot Ice written more or less in Charles Bukowski’s mode is excellent as well.
The rest is pretty good.
Bright lights, big city… In big cities life is different.
July 12, 2018
“Kış mevsiminde Chopin”, “Felaket Bölgesi” ve “Gümüş Perde” öyküleri çok iyi. Diğer öyküler için aynı şeyi söyleyemeyeceğim. Ama bu üç öykü gerçekten iyiydi.
October 13, 2021
Ah benim kapağına aldanıp arkasını bile okumadan kitap alma sevdam ne olacak?
Chicago kıyıları, bir şehrin hücrelerinden başlayarak onu yaşayan insanları ve yaşanan olayları günlük bir dille konu alan kısa hikayelerden oluşan bir kitap. Yalnız sorun şu ki ben kısa öykü sevmiyorum. 20-30 sayfalık kısa öyküleri bile sevmememe rağmen burada 1 sayfalık öyküler var. Sayıyla 1, yazıyla bir.
Bu nedenle birkaç hikaye haricinde geri kalan hiçbirine ve hiçbir karaktere kendimi veremediğim, alışamadığım, bu nedenle de sevmediğim bir öykü kitabı oldu.
Ancak kısa öykülerden hoşlanıyorsanız kimbilir, belki siz seversiniz.
Herkese keyifli okumalar!
Chicago kıyıları, bir şehrin hücrelerinden başlayarak onu yaşayan insanları ve yaşanan olayları günlük bir dille konu alan kısa hikayelerden oluşan bir kitap. Yalnız sorun şu ki ben kısa öykü sevmiyorum. 20-30 sayfalık kısa öyküleri bile sevmememe rağmen burada 1 sayfalık öyküler var. Sayıyla 1, yazıyla bir.
Bu nedenle birkaç hikaye haricinde geri kalan hiçbirine ve hiçbir karaktere kendimi veremediğim, alışamadığım, bu nedenle de sevmediğim bir öykü kitabı oldu.
Ancak kısa öykülerden hoşlanıyorsanız kimbilir, belki siz seversiniz.
Herkese keyifli okumalar!
April 10, 2019
dybek, neredeyse chicago şehrinin ana karakter olduğu öyküler yazmış. kitap genellikle bir uzun öykü bir kısa öykü şeklinde gidiyor. uzun öyküler klasik renkte sayfalardayken, kısa öykülerde sayfalar koyu renk, bu biçim bana bayağı ilginç geldi.
chicago anladığım kadarıyla göçmenlerle kurulmuş bir kent, dybek birçok öyküde çek, macar, meksika göçmenlerinden, bu ailelerin çocuklarının arkadaşlığından bahsediyor. bazı öyküler birer novella gibi. özellikle sıcak buz öyküsünün kurgusunu beğendim.
fakirlik, kentsen dönüşüm, toz, inşaat da neredeyse bizim kadar chicago'nun başına dertmiş, yine anladığım kadarıyla. bu atmosfer de bütün öykülerde hissediliyor.
ama bence dybek'in asıl başarısı odaklandığı tek bir ânı muhteşem bir biçimde aktarabilmesinde. küçücük bir cisme zamanda yolculuk ettirmesi. özellikle son öykü "pet marka süt" böyleydi.
bunun dışında ilk öykülerden "kış mevsiminde chopin"i de çok çok beğendim.
ama arada bana hitap etmeyen öyküler de oldu.
çok fazla tashih vardı, özellikle noktalama konusunda... bir yüz kitap hayranı olarak buna şaşırdım. bir de çevirmen bazı dipnotlarla açıklama yapsa birkaç yerde iyi olurdu diye düşündüm.
chicago anladığım kadarıyla göçmenlerle kurulmuş bir kent, dybek birçok öyküde çek, macar, meksika göçmenlerinden, bu ailelerin çocuklarının arkadaşlığından bahsediyor. bazı öyküler birer novella gibi. özellikle sıcak buz öyküsünün kurgusunu beğendim.
fakirlik, kentsen dönüşüm, toz, inşaat da neredeyse bizim kadar chicago'nun başına dertmiş, yine anladığım kadarıyla. bu atmosfer de bütün öykülerde hissediliyor.
ama bence dybek'in asıl başarısı odaklandığı tek bir ânı muhteşem bir biçimde aktarabilmesinde. küçücük bir cisme zamanda yolculuk ettirmesi. özellikle son öykü "pet marka süt" böyleydi.
bunun dışında ilk öykülerden "kış mevsiminde chopin"i de çok çok beğendim.
ama arada bana hitap etmeyen öyküler de oldu.
çok fazla tashih vardı, özellikle noktalama konusunda... bir yüz kitap hayranı olarak buna şaşırdım. bir de çevirmen bazı dipnotlarla açıklama yapsa birkaç yerde iyi olurdu diye düşündüm.
August 10, 2021
The very first line: "Tonight, a steady drizzle, streetlights smoldering in fog like funnels of light collecting rain."
I discovered this book incidentally as I searched in our library's online catalog for guides for visiting Chicago. It arrived on hold for me from Glenview Library and I brought it home still under the impression that I would be reading a guide to Chicago's coastline. Reading it was quite an unexpected and throughly enjoyable pleasure.
The first line drew me right in and I realized at once that I was reading something more personal and literary than a guidebook. Indeed, I came away with the feeling that I had brushed shoulders with some of Chicago's most interesting people after devouring this book cover to cover without surfacing once.
The writing is that good! How could you resist continuing reading when the next story begins, "Her hands were always scratched from sparring with cats," or "I knew a girl who laughed in her sleep."
Lines that especially caught my interest:
From "Blight":
"Ziggy had been unreliable even before Pepper Rosado had accidentally beaned him during a game of "it" with the bat."
"She argued that the North Side had more class because the streets had names. "A number lacks, character, David. How can you have a feeling for a street called Twenty-second?""
"He had acquired an Oxford accent, but the more excitedly he read and spit, the more I could detect the South Side of Chicago underneath the veneer, as if his th's had been worked over with a drill press."
From "Nighthawks":
"There were guys who carried knives taped inside their socks to school, who still slept at the edges of their beds in order to leave room for their guardian angels."
"The boy could sense them moving along the street and wondered if tonight was the night for which he'd been summoned awake, when the silhouettes would finally come up the alley, past the guardian streetlight now swirling and sinking, and assemble below his window, looking up at his face pressed against the spattered pane, their eyes and mouths opened into darkness like the centers of guitars."
From "Killing Time":
"After a week of hanging around the library, I began to recognize the same set of regulars - people who carried their possessions in bags, or wore them all at once, who seemed to be living in the library stacks."
From "Hot Ice":
"they could stare down Twenty-sixth - five dark blocks, then an explosion of neon at Kenzie Avenue: taco places, bars, a street plugged in, winking festive as a pinball machine..."
"they might see someone with Pancho's altar-boy eyes staring out from the makeup of a girl."
"Rumors were becoming legends, but there was never a wake, never an obituary, and no one knew how to mourn a person who had just disappeared."
From "Pet Milk":
"In Chicago, where we all lived, all the incompatible states of Europe were pressed together down at the staticky right end of the dial [of the radio]."
I loved it and will revisit The Coast of Chicago again.
I discovered this book incidentally as I searched in our library's online catalog for guides for visiting Chicago. It arrived on hold for me from Glenview Library and I brought it home still under the impression that I would be reading a guide to Chicago's coastline. Reading it was quite an unexpected and throughly enjoyable pleasure.
The first line drew me right in and I realized at once that I was reading something more personal and literary than a guidebook. Indeed, I came away with the feeling that I had brushed shoulders with some of Chicago's most interesting people after devouring this book cover to cover without surfacing once.
The writing is that good! How could you resist continuing reading when the next story begins, "Her hands were always scratched from sparring with cats," or "I knew a girl who laughed in her sleep."
Lines that especially caught my interest:
From "Blight":
"Ziggy had been unreliable even before Pepper Rosado had accidentally beaned him during a game of "it" with the bat."
"She argued that the North Side had more class because the streets had names. "A number lacks, character, David. How can you have a feeling for a street called Twenty-second?""
"He had acquired an Oxford accent, but the more excitedly he read and spit, the more I could detect the South Side of Chicago underneath the veneer, as if his th's had been worked over with a drill press."
From "Nighthawks":
"There were guys who carried knives taped inside their socks to school, who still slept at the edges of their beds in order to leave room for their guardian angels."
"The boy could sense them moving along the street and wondered if tonight was the night for which he'd been summoned awake, when the silhouettes would finally come up the alley, past the guardian streetlight now swirling and sinking, and assemble below his window, looking up at his face pressed against the spattered pane, their eyes and mouths opened into darkness like the centers of guitars."
From "Killing Time":
"After a week of hanging around the library, I began to recognize the same set of regulars - people who carried their possessions in bags, or wore them all at once, who seemed to be living in the library stacks."
From "Hot Ice":
"they could stare down Twenty-sixth - five dark blocks, then an explosion of neon at Kenzie Avenue: taco places, bars, a street plugged in, winking festive as a pinball machine..."
"they might see someone with Pancho's altar-boy eyes staring out from the makeup of a girl."
"Rumors were becoming legends, but there was never a wake, never an obituary, and no one knew how to mourn a person who had just disappeared."
From "Pet Milk":
"In Chicago, where we all lived, all the incompatible states of Europe were pressed together down at the staticky right end of the dial [of the radio]."
I loved it and will revisit The Coast of Chicago again.
April 6, 2021
"La Costa de Chicago" es otro de esos libros que me hacen salir de mi zona de confort, cosa que agradezco, porque lo más satisfactorio a la hora de devorar libros, es precisamente arriesgarte con autores nuevos, invisibles todavía y muy desconocidos. No conocía a Stuart Dybek pero gracias a la editorial Pálido Fuego, no solo sales de tu zona lectora conservadora, sino que te dan un empujón para lanzarte a territorios desconocidos, sin que te decepcione en ningún momento este riesgo asumido.
Es una colección de cuentos que se sale de lo normal por momentos y lo digo porque construye toda una serie de historias, de las cuales sobresalen otras historias más pequeñas con la ciudad de Chicago como punto de conexión, pero hay momentos que también parece una novela bien estructurada construida de pequeñas historias. Me ha recordado en ese aspecto un poco a lo que hacia Sherwood Anderson en Winesburg, Ohio, o a La Vida de las mujeres de Alice Munro, siempre salvando las distancias claro. Por momentos parece también una novela de iniciación donde un chico de clase trabajadora medio polaco y medio mexicano, deambula por su ciudad entre viajes en coche, en tren, en cines… Hay mucha música y mucha vida, pero quizás el rasgo que más me ha llamado la atención es el vagabundeo por una ciudad como si fuera un ensueño. Dybek le da a sus historias un tono muy onírico, muy de un sueño dentro de una ciudad plagada de vida.
Stuart Dybek construye aquí unos relatos soberbios, atmosféricos, algunos tan cortos que apenas llenan una página, que dejan marcado al lector con su seña de identidad: adolescencia, memoria, la vida urbana, la convivencia entre razas...y mientras tanto convierte a la ciudad en un personaje más. (La traducción es de Jose Luís Amores)
“La música tardó en desvanecerse. Yo seguí captando efluvios en el conducto de ventilación, tras las paredes y techos, bajo el agua de la bañera. Sus ecos recorrían cañerías y bajantes ocultos tras el papel pintado, chimeneas tapiadas y pasillos oscuros. Daba la impresión de que el edificio de la señora Kubiac estaba acribillado de pasajes secretos. Y, cuando la música desapareció por fin, quedaron sus canales, transmisores de silencio. No un silencio normal de silencio y vacio, sino un silencio puro que superaba la ensoñación y el recuerdo, tan intenso como la música que había reemplazado, y que, como la música, tenía el poder de cambiar a quien lo escuchase”.
https://kansasbooks.blogspot.com/2021...
Es una colección de cuentos que se sale de lo normal por momentos y lo digo porque construye toda una serie de historias, de las cuales sobresalen otras historias más pequeñas con la ciudad de Chicago como punto de conexión, pero hay momentos que también parece una novela bien estructurada construida de pequeñas historias. Me ha recordado en ese aspecto un poco a lo que hacia Sherwood Anderson en Winesburg, Ohio, o a La Vida de las mujeres de Alice Munro, siempre salvando las distancias claro. Por momentos parece también una novela de iniciación donde un chico de clase trabajadora medio polaco y medio mexicano, deambula por su ciudad entre viajes en coche, en tren, en cines… Hay mucha música y mucha vida, pero quizás el rasgo que más me ha llamado la atención es el vagabundeo por una ciudad como si fuera un ensueño. Dybek le da a sus historias un tono muy onírico, muy de un sueño dentro de una ciudad plagada de vida.
Stuart Dybek construye aquí unos relatos soberbios, atmosféricos, algunos tan cortos que apenas llenan una página, que dejan marcado al lector con su seña de identidad: adolescencia, memoria, la vida urbana, la convivencia entre razas...y mientras tanto convierte a la ciudad en un personaje más. (La traducción es de Jose Luís Amores)
“La música tardó en desvanecerse. Yo seguí captando efluvios en el conducto de ventilación, tras las paredes y techos, bajo el agua de la bañera. Sus ecos recorrían cañerías y bajantes ocultos tras el papel pintado, chimeneas tapiadas y pasillos oscuros. Daba la impresión de que el edificio de la señora Kubiac estaba acribillado de pasajes secretos. Y, cuando la música desapareció por fin, quedaron sus canales, transmisores de silencio. No un silencio normal de silencio y vacio, sino un silencio puro que superaba la ensoñación y el recuerdo, tan intenso como la música que había reemplazado, y que, como la música, tenía el poder de cambiar a quien lo escuchase”.
https://kansasbooks.blogspot.com/2021...
November 4, 2019
Estupenda colección de relatos de un autor inédito en castellano. Al leer relatos como ‘Chopin en invierno’ uno no entiende que hasta ahora no hayamos podido disfrutar en castellano a uno de los mejores autores de eso que los norteamericanos saben hacer tan bien: contar mucho más de lo que se lee explícitamente en el texto. Devoré este relato, que es bastante largo, sin dejar de sentirme intrigado más que sobre lo que aparecía en el texto, sobre lo que no se contaba, sobre lo que evocaba el pasado sólo intuido del personaje del abuelo o sobre la vecina pianista, que toca una y otra vez piezas de Chopin que revelan mucho más sobre ella que una aburrida conversación explícita. Otras piezas como ‘Ruinas’ o ‘Hielo ardiente’ tienen el aliento de novelas sobre los suburbios de Chicago. Una maravilla.
September 13, 2012
Those were the days when the Belsen Street Pollacks came down the stairwells with their pockets filled with broken glass, an old Jew shouting out of the window, little Skip Kowalcyk reaching up to grab his fill of undergarments from the laundry lines - old Trouthead Mulvaney was on the mound for the Cubs, the smell of simmering beef heart and boiled tar in the air, Mayor Daley tapping the ash from his cigar as he rode by in his grand Buick, like some kind of pristine ocean liner, outfitted in brass....
BLEH BLEH BLEH IF YOU LIKE THAT KIND OF SHIT UP THERE THIS IS THE BOOK FOR YOU.
BLEH BLEH BLEH IF YOU LIKE THAT KIND OF SHIT UP THERE THIS IS THE BOOK FOR YOU.
July 31, 2009
I’ve experienced that rare pleasure of hearing Stuart Dybek read his work—in Kalamazoo, Michigan, where he is a sometime adjunct professor at Western Michigan University, and so sometimes, not at all often, has read to a large and hungry Kalamazoo audience, myself among them. That was poetry. Good stuff. Really good stuff. And so picking up this collection of stories about my favorite city, Chicago, and Dybek’s hometown, too, I knew I would be in for a street wise treat. Oh yeah.
Fourteen stories, and if you know anything about Dybek at all, you will know he is surrounded by awards and an otherwise impressive publishing history, so no need to go there. He’s proven goods. I’ll offer simply my personal perspective and experience on reading this collection. And so, indeed, it resonated with me. Dybek, like me, comes from a richly ethnic background. In his case, he is a second-generation Polish-American, growing up in Chicago neighborhoods, southern side of that great city. Whereas I have a father who is a visual artist, so influencing me to be visual in my own writing, Dybek’s second art love is music—jazz, specifically—and so for him, that second art comes through in obvious and less obvious ways. Here, too. Quite a few of these stories intertwine music. Music becomes something of a character itself (“Chopin in Winter”), or else it serves as background, or it is fabric of the words, adding a jazzy rhythm to his sentence structure, a bop and a bounce to his choice of expression. Nice.
The collection is an interesting mix of traditional sandwiched with flash fiction. The flash pieces reminded me of Dybek’s poetry. Poetry in prose, nearly. Because Dybek’s style (see note above on musical influence) is very lyrical. There’s something improvisational about his writing, yet carefully so. A great jazz artist doesn’t really improvise at all; he or she dips into that vastness of musical experience and freely lifts from it and into light. What is surprise to others is old blood to the maestro.
“A kiss crosses the city. It rides a glass streetcar that showers blue, electric sparks along the ghost of a track—a track paved over in childhood—the line that she and her mother used to take downtown.
“A kiss crosses the city, revolves through a lobby door into a rainy night, catches a cab along a boulevard of black glass, and, running red lights, dissolves behind the open fans of wiper blades.
“Rain spirals colorlessly out of the dark, darkens all it touches and makes it gleam.
“Her kiss crosses the city, enters a subway tunnel that descends at this deserted hour like a channel through an underground world. It’s timeless there, always night, as if the planet doesn’t turn below the street. At the mouth of the station stands a kid who’s gone AWOL and now has nowhere to go, a young conga drummer, a congacero, wearing a fatigue jacket and beating his drum. He has the pigeons up past their bedtime doing the mambo.” (page 105)
These are stories that put you into the unprettified ethnic neighborhoods that were, are, Chicago. The smells are here, the tastes, the mix of languages, the music, the blend of humanity. Here the city kids and the first generation immigrants, the junkies and winos and ex-cons and their corrupt cops. Here, too, are stories about nothing, just the sense of being there, and so, stories about everything you need to know to share the experience.
Dybek is a master of language, whatever medium he chooses—poetry or prose. He blends his arts, as all art should be a blend, all from the same fountainhead. He is visual artist, too, with one paint stroke:
“The blue, absorbing shadow would deepen to azure, and a fiery orange sun would dip behind the glittering buildings. The crowded beach would gradually empty, and a pitted moon would hover over sand scalloped with a million footprints. It would be time to go.” (page 45)
Just don’t go before acquainting yourself fully with the work of Stuart Dybek, and this collection is an excellent starting point.
Fourteen stories, and if you know anything about Dybek at all, you will know he is surrounded by awards and an otherwise impressive publishing history, so no need to go there. He’s proven goods. I’ll offer simply my personal perspective and experience on reading this collection. And so, indeed, it resonated with me. Dybek, like me, comes from a richly ethnic background. In his case, he is a second-generation Polish-American, growing up in Chicago neighborhoods, southern side of that great city. Whereas I have a father who is a visual artist, so influencing me to be visual in my own writing, Dybek’s second art love is music—jazz, specifically—and so for him, that second art comes through in obvious and less obvious ways. Here, too. Quite a few of these stories intertwine music. Music becomes something of a character itself (“Chopin in Winter”), or else it serves as background, or it is fabric of the words, adding a jazzy rhythm to his sentence structure, a bop and a bounce to his choice of expression. Nice.
The collection is an interesting mix of traditional sandwiched with flash fiction. The flash pieces reminded me of Dybek’s poetry. Poetry in prose, nearly. Because Dybek’s style (see note above on musical influence) is very lyrical. There’s something improvisational about his writing, yet carefully so. A great jazz artist doesn’t really improvise at all; he or she dips into that vastness of musical experience and freely lifts from it and into light. What is surprise to others is old blood to the maestro.
“A kiss crosses the city. It rides a glass streetcar that showers blue, electric sparks along the ghost of a track—a track paved over in childhood—the line that she and her mother used to take downtown.
“A kiss crosses the city, revolves through a lobby door into a rainy night, catches a cab along a boulevard of black glass, and, running red lights, dissolves behind the open fans of wiper blades.
“Rain spirals colorlessly out of the dark, darkens all it touches and makes it gleam.
“Her kiss crosses the city, enters a subway tunnel that descends at this deserted hour like a channel through an underground world. It’s timeless there, always night, as if the planet doesn’t turn below the street. At the mouth of the station stands a kid who’s gone AWOL and now has nowhere to go, a young conga drummer, a congacero, wearing a fatigue jacket and beating his drum. He has the pigeons up past their bedtime doing the mambo.” (page 105)
These are stories that put you into the unprettified ethnic neighborhoods that were, are, Chicago. The smells are here, the tastes, the mix of languages, the music, the blend of humanity. Here the city kids and the first generation immigrants, the junkies and winos and ex-cons and their corrupt cops. Here, too, are stories about nothing, just the sense of being there, and so, stories about everything you need to know to share the experience.
Dybek is a master of language, whatever medium he chooses—poetry or prose. He blends his arts, as all art should be a blend, all from the same fountainhead. He is visual artist, too, with one paint stroke:
“The blue, absorbing shadow would deepen to azure, and a fiery orange sun would dip behind the glittering buildings. The crowded beach would gradually empty, and a pitted moon would hover over sand scalloped with a million footprints. It would be time to go.” (page 45)
Just don’t go before acquainting yourself fully with the work of Stuart Dybek, and this collection is an excellent starting point.
June 9, 2022
Really great work here, “Chopin in Winter” and “Blight” are in that pocket of major American short stories but told in such a beautiful casual, personal way. The vignette stories, “Death of the Right Fielder”, “Lights” “bottle caps” and the one about the woman fainting in church, great stuff. Then I got to the end of the book and read “Pet Milk” and saw the full power of Dybek. Damn what a writer. Recommended if you liked Rock Springs by Richard Ford, Airships by Barry Hannah, and those other collectors ppl hold in that esteem from the early 80s-90s
August 8, 2012
I read this short story collection when it was chosen for the " one book one Chicago " in 2004. I think the reason the story's resonated so much for me was that I know the neighborhoods,the streets and the people,which it so much easer reading than Dubliners by James Joyce.
The book really had me at the section titled "Nighthawks" a young man killing time at the art institute would always end his day viewing Edward Hoppers painting named Nighthawks.Dybek than brings the paint to life . The couple at the end of the counter who could just as easily pass for strangers killing time,they have a back story. Ray the man behind the counter who is much older then he looks and nobody cares what he dose during the day. The guy whith his back to the window nursing his cup of coffee , maybe an out of work hit man. And finally,what about the empty water glass? It to has a story.
I know that if the Nighthawks section was all that I had read,it would have been time well spent. However I would not have liked to missed all of the others.
The book really had me at the section titled "Nighthawks" a young man killing time at the art institute would always end his day viewing Edward Hoppers painting named Nighthawks.Dybek than brings the paint to life . The couple at the end of the counter who could just as easily pass for strangers killing time,they have a back story. Ray the man behind the counter who is much older then he looks and nobody cares what he dose during the day. The guy whith his back to the window nursing his cup of coffee , maybe an out of work hit man. And finally,what about the empty water glass? It to has a story.
I know that if the Nighthawks section was all that I had read,it would have been time well spent. However I would not have liked to missed all of the others.
October 19, 2011
"The Coast of Chicago" is a lyrical short story collection about growing up in Chicago in the 50's and 60's--the poverty, the wild aimlessness of boyhood, those who escape the neighborhood and those who don't. Each longer piece is followed by a short-short, which was a fun pattern. Dybek adeptly captures the mood of the city, especially at night and in the winters. My favorite story in this collection is the simply gorgeous "Chopin in Winter," which is about a boy and his grandpa who fervently listen to their upstairs neighbor playing the piano. "Nighthawks" is another gem in this collection; in it Dybek imagines the lives of the characters in Edward Hopper's similarly titled painting. The final story "Pet Milk" was also quite lovely, but I still prefer "We Didn't," which seems almost like a companion piece to it, in his most recent story collection, "I Sailed with Magellan."
October 9, 2024
I ended up being pleasantly surprised by this one. Although the short interludes seemed more like writing exercises, the more fleshed-out stories were really nicely done, evocative, full of so much description that you can picture yourself a part of each little world.
May 27, 2007
Most of these stories have a narrator looking back to the time of the story from an undisclosed or unimportant future vantage point. The way the character looks back indicates the story is vital memory(to the character's existence even). Dybek's vivid flashes of past come in layer upon layer, rendering the story into not just memory, but perhaps the most important time of these characters' lives. The sense of nostalgia is thick and alive--it's hypnotic at times, but slows the read a bit, too. The short shorts are a pleasure.
So why 4 stars? Cleary in the entire book, Dybek is concerned with the world of dreams, or perhaps more particulary the limbo *between* waking reality and dreamscape. It kind of goes along with the characters looking back, thus they're caught between whatever their present and their vivid past. The long story "Nighthawks" in the middle of the book is fascinated with this limbo. The language Dybek uses when in dream or that limbo is incredible and poetic, and I loved that part of it. But the musing exploration of that place just wasn't for me. I realize it's just a personal preference on my part (not my kind of writing), but frankly: I was bored at times with it. Other stories besides "Nighthawks" were much more compelling reads because they had the musing in it but weren't overwhelmed by it. I don't think I'd ever read "Bijou" again either. Human exploration through an audience's reaction(s) to a graphic documentary--for me: a "so what?" read.
So why 4 stars? Cleary in the entire book, Dybek is concerned with the world of dreams, or perhaps more particulary the limbo *between* waking reality and dreamscape. It kind of goes along with the characters looking back, thus they're caught between whatever their present and their vivid past. The long story "Nighthawks" in the middle of the book is fascinated with this limbo. The language Dybek uses when in dream or that limbo is incredible and poetic, and I loved that part of it. But the musing exploration of that place just wasn't for me. I realize it's just a personal preference on my part (not my kind of writing), but frankly: I was bored at times with it. Other stories besides "Nighthawks" were much more compelling reads because they had the musing in it but weren't overwhelmed by it. I don't think I'd ever read "Bijou" again either. Human exploration through an audience's reaction(s) to a graphic documentary--for me: a "so what?" read.
December 1, 2024
This collection isn’t as consistently as strong as Childhood and Other Neighborhoods: Stories but it does contain three excellent stories, and a few other really good ones.
Though there are 14 stories listed five of them are just a page or two in length, and more like essays.
Similar to Childhood, the protagonists of most of the stories are teenage boys, set once again against a background of Chicago in the 1970s, the stories saturated with such a sense of place that they couldn’t happen anywhere else.
My favourite is Blight, (which won the Nelson Algren prize) so called as the suburb of Chicago it takes place in is so old and worn that it needs to be torn down a rebuilt, designated by the mayor as a ‘blighted area’. Three young friends go to a viaduct to take advantage of the acoustics and sing blues songs with homemade percussion of empty bottles and beer cans and a snapped-off car antenna. The story’s theme is of resilience, and a determination to get the best from life despite the lot they have drawn.
Here’s a clip..
In Chopin in Winter, Marcy, a young woman who returns home pregnant and in shame. The teenage narrator, Michael, spends his nights listening to her playing the piano in a neighbouring apartment, through the walls. His wayward great-uncle Dzia-Dzia, who visits, urges Michael to find the names of each Chopin piece Marcy plays, which the boy often conducts or plays, air-piano style.
Hot Ice (which won an O.Henry prize) finishes with a memorable scene. Two young friends, who had fallen out, are united in a combined effort. They commandeer an old railroad handcar, to transport a corpse frozen in a block of ice. The corpse signifies a local legend, of a young woman supposed to have been killed some thirty years earlier and carried to the local ice house by her grieving father. In the ensuing years the legend of the girl has grown, and she has been nominated for sainthood by the parish nun and Big Antek, the local drunk whom everyone knows. Antek swears that her body, in its ice block, was in a freezer he managed to lock himself in over a weekend and that her presence kept him from freezing. It’s a story about the myths that exist in urban reality, and it’s quite splendid.
Dybek has written some of my favourite ever short stories, notably Cordoba from the collection The Start of Something: The Selected Stories of Stuart Dybek, but also available for free on the ElectricLiterature site.
Though there are 14 stories listed five of them are just a page or two in length, and more like essays.
Similar to Childhood, the protagonists of most of the stories are teenage boys, set once again against a background of Chicago in the 1970s, the stories saturated with such a sense of place that they couldn’t happen anywhere else.
My favourite is Blight, (which won the Nelson Algren prize) so called as the suburb of Chicago it takes place in is so old and worn that it needs to be torn down a rebuilt, designated by the mayor as a ‘blighted area’. Three young friends go to a viaduct to take advantage of the acoustics and sing blues songs with homemade percussion of empty bottles and beer cans and a snapped-off car antenna. The story’s theme is of resilience, and a determination to get the best from life despite the lot they have drawn.
Here’s a clip..
I'd inherited a '53 Chevy from my father. He hadn't died, but he figured the car had. It was a real Blightmobile, a kind of mustardy, baby-shit yellow where it wasn't rusting out, but built like a tank, and rumbling like one, too. That car would not lay rubber, not even when I'd floor it in neutral, then throw it into drive.
We'd pull up to a bus stop where people stood waiting in a trance and Pepper would beat on a fender while I wailed a chorus of "Hand Jive"; then we'd jump back in the Chevy and grind off, as if making our getaway. Once the cops pulled us over and frisked us down. They examined my sax as if it were a weapon.
"There some law against playing a little music?" Pepper kept demanding.
"That's right, jack-off," one of the cops told him, "It's called disturbing the peace."
In Chopin in Winter, Marcy, a young woman who returns home pregnant and in shame. The teenage narrator, Michael, spends his nights listening to her playing the piano in a neighbouring apartment, through the walls. His wayward great-uncle Dzia-Dzia, who visits, urges Michael to find the names of each Chopin piece Marcy plays, which the boy often conducts or plays, air-piano style.
Hot Ice (which won an O.Henry prize) finishes with a memorable scene. Two young friends, who had fallen out, are united in a combined effort. They commandeer an old railroad handcar, to transport a corpse frozen in a block of ice. The corpse signifies a local legend, of a young woman supposed to have been killed some thirty years earlier and carried to the local ice house by her grieving father. In the ensuing years the legend of the girl has grown, and she has been nominated for sainthood by the parish nun and Big Antek, the local drunk whom everyone knows. Antek swears that her body, in its ice block, was in a freezer he managed to lock himself in over a weekend and that her presence kept him from freezing. It’s a story about the myths that exist in urban reality, and it’s quite splendid.
Dybek has written some of my favourite ever short stories, notably Cordoba from the collection The Start of Something: The Selected Stories of Stuart Dybek, but also available for free on the ElectricLiterature site.
December 29, 2021
Read this at Paddy’s recommendation in college and reread cuz i now live in the Chicago Neighborhood where most of the stories take place! Mix of memoir-y short stories and flash fiction the former I think works overall better than the latter. In particular dybek is sooo good at building a whole story around arresting, strange, or amusing images, and exploring irrational responses to pain. while pretty different in some ways, this aspect of his style reminds me a lot of the mixing up of memory, fiction, and truth in Tim O Briens work,. They both refract the experience of memory through fiction so well, I’m just really into it.
February 23, 2017
Λόγω του George Saunders βρέθηκα με αυτό το βιβλίο στα χέρια, ο οποίος έχει κάνει διάφορες βαρύγδουπες δηλώσεις για τη συγκεκριμένη συλλογή διηγημάτων. Η αλήθεια είναι ότι δεν εμπιστεύομαι καθόλου τις προτάσεις των συγγραφέων (λένε περισσότερα πράγματα για τα ενδιαφέροντα τους κι όσα ζηλεύουν στους συναδέλφους τους παρά για την ποιότητα των βιβλίων που προτείνουν -το ίδιο ισχύει για τους μουσικούς κοκ.) μου άρεσε όμως πολύ η Δεκάτη Δεκεμβρίου για να προσπεράσω το βιβλίο μόλις το είδα μπροστά μου, πόσο μάλλον όταν διαδραματίζεται στο Σικάγο των 60s κ 70s που είναι το μέρος που γεννήθηκα κ που οι γονείς μου έζησαν για 15 χρόνια.
Το Σικάγο λοιπόν είναι ο πρωταγωνιστής του βιβλίου, η κύρια σταθερά που συνδέει τις 22 ιστορίες που βρίσκει κανείς εδώ. Το βιβλίο διαβάζεται με ενιαίο τρόπο, σαν επεισόδια που εστιάζουν σε διαφορετικούς ήρωες της ίδιας όμως γειτονιάς. Ο Dybek είναι χωρίς αμφιβολία ένας χαρισματικός γραφιάς, περισσότερο ποιητής παρά storyteller ή τουλάχιστον εκεί έγερνε η ζυγαριά το 1990 που κυκλοφόρησε η συλλογή. Το περίεργο είναι ότι οι καλύτερες του στιγμές έρχονται στα πιο μακροσκελή κείμενα, ίσως γιατί εκεί χαλιναγωγεί τη εκφραστική του δεινότητα κ το πλούσιο λεξιλόγιο του κ επιτρέπει στους αναγνώστες που δεν έχουν ζήσει ανάμεσα στις εθνοτικές ομάδες της νότιας πλευράς της πόλης να καταλάβουν την καθημερινότητα των πρωταγωνιστών χωρίς να πρέπει να σπάσουν το κεφάλι τους για να αποκρυπτογραφήσουν το συμβολισμό.
Διαβάζοντας τη συλλογή πέρασα από τελείως διαφορετικά στάδια αναγνωστικής ευχαρίστησης. Στο πρώτο μισό ήμουν μαγεμένος. Ο Dybek περιφερόταν στη γειτονιά που προφανώς ξέρει καλά με υπέροχο τρόπο περιγράφοντας από ιστορία σε ιστορία καθημερινές σκηνές κ ενδόμυχες, ειλικρινείς σκέψεις που είχαν οι ήρωες του μέσα σε ένα ονειρικό πλαίσιο που είναι το δεύτερο χαρακτηριστικό μετά την πόλη που διαπερνάει όλες τις σελίδες του βιβλίου. Η αγάπη του για τη μουσική έχει περάσει στη γραφή του κ υπήρχαν φορές που διάβαζα χωρίς να "διαβάζω" στα αλήθεια, παρασυρμένος απ'την πρόζα του.
Στo εξαιρετικό "Chopin in Winter" για παράδειγμα, μια νεαρή μουσικός μένει έγκυος από έναν μαύρο, γεγονός που θεωρείται στίγμα στην κλειστή κοινότητα των Πολωνών μεταναστών. Κλεισμένη στο σπίτι της παίζει όλα τα έργα του Σοπέν και στο από κάτω διαμέρισμα ένας νεαρός μαθαίνει τι ακούει απ'τον λιγομίλητο παππού του που τον εκπαιδεύει να ξεχωρίζει τα κομμάτια που παίζει η δυστυχισμένη Marcy. Όταν η τελευταία δραπετεύει απ'το σπίτι για να ζήσει με τον πατέρα του παιδιού της ο μικρός ανακαλύπτει τη δύναμη της μουσικής:
"...when the music finally disappeared, its channels remained, conveying silence. Not an ordinary silence of absence and emptiness, but a pure silence beyond daydream and memory, as intense as the music it replaced, which, like music, had the power to change whoever listened..."
Στο ενδιάμεσο περεμβάλλονται μικρές ιστορίες που ενδυναμώνουν τη συνοχή του βιβλίου: τα παιδιά που φωνάζουν στους οδηγούς που ξέχασαν τα φώτα του αυτοκινήτου τους σβηστά, ο μικρός που μαζεύει καπάκια μπύρας, η κυρία που ζει με δεκάδες κατοικίδια κοκ. Όταν δε φθάνεις στο "Blight" με τους τρεις έφηβους (το απόλυτο highlight της συλλογής) ο αναγνώστης δεν μπορεί παρά να θαυμάσει τη αφηγηματική δεινότητα του συγγραφέα που καταφέρνει να πει τόσα πολλά σε τόσες λίγες σελίδες (λιγότερες από 40). Εύκολα θα γινόταν ένα υπέροχο μυθιστόρημα που παρακολουθεί τις ζωές του Ziggy, του David κ του Pepper κ κυρίως τις βόλτες τους με το αμάξι στις διαφορετικές περιοχές της πόλης.
Στην συνέχεια όμως, ο συνεκτικός ίστος του βιβλίου χάνεται. Ο Dybek μου μοιάζει σα να παρασύρθηκε από τις γνώσεις του κ αναλώνεται σε over the top συμβολισμούς που είναι σχεδόν αδύνατο να τους διαπεράσει ο αναγνώστης κ θυσιάζει το μουντο,ονειρικό κλίμα που είχε φτιάξει μέχρι το Blight για χάρη μια σειράς ατελείωτων παρομοιώσεων κ μεταφορών που θα ταίριαζαν σε άγουρο συγγραφέα κ όχι σε έναν τόσο ταλαντούχο γραφιά όπως αυτός. Υπάρχουν σκόρπιες κάποιες καλές στιγμές όπως το Nighthawks που μπλέκει κ τον υπέροχο, ομώνυμο πινακα του Hopper ή το Insomnia που περιγράφει τη ζωή των μοναχικών ξενύχτηδων που περνούν τις νύχτες τους στo 24ώρo diner της περιοχής αλλά σε γενικές γραμμές ένιωσα πως πρέπει ξαφνικά να προσπαθήσω για να μην το αφήσω στο κομοδίνο για μήνες.
Ευτυχώς στο τελευταίο τέταρτο του βιβλίου επιστρέφει στις ιστορίες που του ταιριάζουν, τις απλές καθημερινές ιστορίες όπως αυτή για το όμορφο κορίτσι με το μπλε-πράσινο φόρεμα που πολύ συχνά λιποθυμάει απ'τη ζέστη κατά τη διάρκεια της κυριακάτικης λειτουργίας ή όπως το συγκινητικό Pet Milk με το ζευγάρι που φιλιέται σε ένα τρένο που περνάει χωρίς να σταματάει σε σταθμούς.
Το τελικό πρόσημο είναι σίγουρα θετικό. Οι προσδοκίες που γεννήθηκαν στην αρχή μπορεί να κατέρρευσαν στην πορεία αλλά δεν πειράζει. Όσα διάβαζα εδώ οδήγησαν σε μερικές όμορφες συζητήσεις με τον πατέρα μου που επιβεβαίωσε πολλά απ'αυτά που περιγράφει ο Dybek, το σκοτάδι σε αυτές τις γειτονιές, ο ρατσισμός μεταξύ των μειονοτήτων, η θλιβερή βροχή αλλά κ οι όμορφες βόλτες στο πάρκο, η φανταχτερή διαφορετικότητα στο περιθώριο μιας εκ των πιο ιδιαίτερων πόλεων της Αμερικής κ φυσικά η μουσική που έβγαινε δυνατά απ'τα ανοιχτά παράθυρα των φτωχών συνοικίων (πολύ Καζαντζίδης έπεφτε λέει ο φάδερ). Θα επανέλθω στον Dybek κ ελπίζω την επόμενη φορά να είμαι πιο περιεκτικός. Σεντόνι βγήκε πάλι.
Το Σικάγο λοιπόν είναι ο πρωταγωνιστής του βιβλίου, η κύρια σταθερά που συνδέει τις 22 ιστορίες που βρίσκει κανείς εδώ. Το βιβλίο διαβάζεται με ενιαίο τρόπο, σαν επεισόδια που εστιάζουν σε διαφορετικούς ήρωες της ίδιας όμως γειτονιάς. Ο Dybek είναι χωρίς αμφιβολία ένας χαρισματικός γραφιάς, περισσότερο ποιητής παρά storyteller ή τουλάχιστον εκεί έγερνε η ζυγαριά το 1990 που κυκλοφόρησε η συλλογή. Το περίεργο είναι ότι οι καλύτερες του στιγμές έρχονται στα πιο μακροσκελή κείμενα, ίσως γιατί εκεί χαλιναγωγεί τη εκφραστική του δεινότητα κ το πλούσιο λεξιλόγιο του κ επιτρέπει στους αναγνώστες που δεν έχουν ζήσει ανάμεσα στις εθνοτικές ομάδες της νότιας πλευράς της πόλης να καταλάβουν την καθημερινότητα των πρωταγωνιστών χωρίς να πρέπει να σπάσουν το κεφάλι τους για να αποκρυπτογραφήσουν το συμβολισμό.
Διαβάζοντας τη συλλογή πέρασα από τελείως διαφορετικά στάδια αναγνωστικής ευχαρίστησης. Στο πρώτο μισό ήμουν μαγεμένος. Ο Dybek περιφερόταν στη γειτονιά που προφανώς ξέρει καλά με υπέροχο τρόπο περιγράφοντας από ιστορία σε ιστορία καθημερινές σκηνές κ ενδόμυχες, ειλικρινείς σκέψεις που είχαν οι ήρωες του μέσα σε ένα ονειρικό πλαίσιο που είναι το δεύτερο χαρακτηριστικό μετά την πόλη που διαπερνάει όλες τις σελίδες του βιβλίου. Η αγάπη του για τη μουσική έχει περάσει στη γραφή του κ υπήρχαν φορές που διάβαζα χωρίς να "διαβάζω" στα αλήθεια, παρασυρμένος απ'την πρόζα του.
Στo εξαιρετικό "Chopin in Winter" για παράδειγμα, μια νεαρή μουσικός μένει έγκυος από έναν μαύρο, γεγονός που θεωρείται στίγμα στην κλειστή κοινότητα των Πολωνών μεταναστών. Κλεισμένη στο σπίτι της παίζει όλα τα έργα του Σοπέν και στο από κάτω διαμέρισμα ένας νεαρός μαθαίνει τι ακούει απ'τον λιγομίλητο παππού του που τον εκπαιδεύει να ξεχωρίζει τα κομμάτια που παίζει η δυστυχισμένη Marcy. Όταν η τελευταία δραπετεύει απ'το σπίτι για να ζήσει με τον πατέρα του παιδιού της ο μικρός ανακαλύπτει τη δύναμη της μουσικής:
"...when the music finally disappeared, its channels remained, conveying silence. Not an ordinary silence of absence and emptiness, but a pure silence beyond daydream and memory, as intense as the music it replaced, which, like music, had the power to change whoever listened..."
Στο ενδιάμεσο περεμβάλλονται μικρές ιστορίες που ενδυναμώνουν τη συνοχή του βιβλίου: τα παιδιά που φωνάζουν στους οδηγούς που ξέχασαν τα φώτα του αυτοκινήτου τους σβηστά, ο μικρός που μαζεύει καπάκια μπύρας, η κυρία που ζει με δεκάδες κατοικίδια κοκ. Όταν δε φθάνεις στο "Blight" με τους τρεις έφηβους (το απόλυτο highlight της συλλογής) ο αναγνώστης δεν μπορεί παρά να θαυμάσει τη αφηγηματική δεινότητα του συγγραφέα που καταφέρνει να πει τόσα πολλά σε τόσες λίγες σελίδες (λιγότερες από 40). Εύκολα θα γινόταν ένα υπέροχο μυθιστόρημα που παρακολουθεί τις ζωές του Ziggy, του David κ του Pepper κ κυρίως τις βόλτες τους με το αμάξι στις διαφορετικές περιοχές της πόλης.
Στην συνέχεια όμως, ο συνεκτικός ίστος του βιβλίου χάνεται. Ο Dybek μου μοιάζει σα να παρασύρθηκε από τις γνώσεις του κ αναλώνεται σε over the top συμβολισμούς που είναι σχεδόν αδύνατο να τους διαπεράσει ο αναγνώστης κ θυσιάζει το μουντο,ονειρικό κλίμα που είχε φτιάξει μέχρι το Blight για χάρη μια σειράς ατελείωτων παρομοιώσεων κ μεταφορών που θα ταίριαζαν σε άγουρο συγγραφέα κ όχι σε έναν τόσο ταλαντούχο γραφιά όπως αυτός. Υπάρχουν σκόρπιες κάποιες καλές στιγμές όπως το Nighthawks που μπλέκει κ τον υπέροχο, ομώνυμο πινακα του Hopper ή το Insomnia που περιγράφει τη ζωή των μοναχικών ξενύχτηδων που περνούν τις νύχτες τους στo 24ώρo diner της περιοχής αλλά σε γενικές γραμμές ένιωσα πως πρέπει ξαφνικά να προσπαθήσω για να μην το αφήσω στο κομοδίνο για μήνες.
Ευτυχώς στο τελευταίο τέταρτο του βιβλίου επιστρέφει στις ιστορίες που του ταιριάζουν, τις απλές καθημερινές ιστορίες όπως αυτή για το όμορφο κορίτσι με το μπλε-πράσινο φόρεμα που πολύ συχνά λιποθυμάει απ'τη ζέστη κατά τη διάρκεια της κυριακάτικης λειτουργίας ή όπως το συγκινητικό Pet Milk με το ζευγάρι που φιλιέται σε ένα τρένο που περνάει χωρίς να σταματάει σε σταθμούς.
Το τελικό πρόσημο είναι σίγουρα θετικό. Οι προσδοκίες που γεννήθηκαν στην αρχή μπορεί να κατέρρευσαν στην πορεία αλλά δεν πειράζει. Όσα διάβαζα εδώ οδήγησαν σε μερικές όμορφες συζητήσεις με τον πατέρα μου που επιβεβαίωσε πολλά απ'αυτά που περιγράφει ο Dybek, το σκοτάδι σε αυτές τις γειτονιές, ο ρατσισμός μεταξύ των μειονοτήτων, η θλιβερή βροχή αλλά κ οι όμορφες βόλτες στο πάρκο, η φανταχτερή διαφορετικότητα στο περιθώριο μιας εκ των πιο ιδιαίτερων πόλεων της Αμερικής κ φυσικά η μουσική που έβγαινε δυνατά απ'τα ανοιχτά παράθυρα των φτωχών συνοικίων (πολύ Καζαντζίδης έπεφτε λέει ο φάδερ). Θα επανέλθω στον Dybek κ ελπίζω την επόμενη φορά να είμαι πιο περιεκτικός. Σεντόνι βγήκε πάλι.
September 14, 2021
I love the idea of this book. Having lived in Chicago for many years I was familiar with many of the locales.
Where it fell flat for me was in the 1) lack of stories and the 2) lack of beauty in the prose.
Yes Chicago is a gritty city (especially the south side) but the imagery in this book just didn't excite me.
3 stars. Perhaps a higher rating for the concept.
Where it fell flat for me was in the 1) lack of stories and the 2) lack of beauty in the prose.
Yes Chicago is a gritty city (especially the south side) but the imagery in this book just didn't excite me.
3 stars. Perhaps a higher rating for the concept.
February 4, 2025
fucking amazing
December 24, 2015
This is a great book. I lived in Chicago for a number of years and I am a catholic born in Eastern Europe so I can definitely relate to parts of what Dybek describes in this book. Stuart Dybek grew up in the South Side of Chicago. At the time, his neighborhood was an ethnic neighborhood full of poles, ukranians, czechs, etc. Most of the characters in the book still have customs coming from the old country, inherited prejudices, church going rituals, love for music, etc.
Most of the stories have a life of their own yet some of the smaller ones are introduced just to create themes or suggest feelings that will trigger in other stories. For example baseball is a recurring theme in this book, from the neighborhood teams, to watching games, to the White Sox winning the '59 AL pennant. It is a great experience to live in a town that wins a pennant and one of the short stories describes how the Go Go Sox of '59 won the AL pennant on Gerry Staley's sinker and Aparicio and Big Klu's 6-3 double play. The whole town was affected by the air-raid sirens that were sounded to celebrate but so were the characters in one of the short stories.
The same neighborhoods have later changed. One of the characters returns after a while and finds the same bars with the same names only that his neighborhood is Mexican now with many of the store names in Spanish and even the church bells don't seem to agree on the right time.
There is no experience that compares to making the journey from the numbered streets of the South Side to the North Side of Chicago. This journey is described multiple times in the book (driving on Lake Shore Drive, riding the El train, switching buses). In the last short story in the book, the author describes such a journey made by two lovers riding the El train. The experience is surreal but one understands that living in Chicago and riding the El, you only need to glance outside the window to get a sense of where you are. The experience transcends time, "it was as if I were standing on that platform, with my schoolbooks and a smoke, on one of those endlessly accumulated afternoons after school when I stood almost outside of time simply waiting for a train, and I thought how much I’d have loved seeing someone like us streaming by".
Stuart Dybek also eventually made this journey in his career, he was born in the South Side of Chicago and is now the distinguished writer in residence at Northwestern University.
Most of the stories have a life of their own yet some of the smaller ones are introduced just to create themes or suggest feelings that will trigger in other stories. For example baseball is a recurring theme in this book, from the neighborhood teams, to watching games, to the White Sox winning the '59 AL pennant. It is a great experience to live in a town that wins a pennant and one of the short stories describes how the Go Go Sox of '59 won the AL pennant on Gerry Staley's sinker and Aparicio and Big Klu's 6-3 double play. The whole town was affected by the air-raid sirens that were sounded to celebrate but so were the characters in one of the short stories.
The same neighborhoods have later changed. One of the characters returns after a while and finds the same bars with the same names only that his neighborhood is Mexican now with many of the store names in Spanish and even the church bells don't seem to agree on the right time.
There is no experience that compares to making the journey from the numbered streets of the South Side to the North Side of Chicago. This journey is described multiple times in the book (driving on Lake Shore Drive, riding the El train, switching buses). In the last short story in the book, the author describes such a journey made by two lovers riding the El train. The experience is surreal but one understands that living in Chicago and riding the El, you only need to glance outside the window to get a sense of where you are. The experience transcends time, "it was as if I were standing on that platform, with my schoolbooks and a smoke, on one of those endlessly accumulated afternoons after school when I stood almost outside of time simply waiting for a train, and I thought how much I’d have loved seeing someone like us streaming by".
Stuart Dybek also eventually made this journey in his career, he was born in the South Side of Chicago and is now the distinguished writer in residence at Northwestern University.
February 13, 2011
If you ever wanted to take a time capsule and go back in time to the Chicago South Side during the 60's and 70's, than this book will take you there. Dybek beautifully describes the lonliness and sadness of the back alleys of a working class neighborhood. I lived in the South Side, definitely during a different time, but he captured a feeling that I had while living there. You see fragments from that era on the street corners, and mixed in with the new culture that's taken over the South Side. I love this book. When I read it, I could not believe anyone could capture Chicago like he had. This is one of my favorites.
March 11, 2024
I almost gave up on this one. Oh, think what I would've missed out on! The cover blurb compares this to "Dubliners" and "Winesburg, Ohio," and while I can't speak to the latter, the former is an apt comparison. You really feel like you've gotten a plethora of voices represented here.
"The Coast of Chicago," by Stuart Dybek, is a panoramic look at the Second City through the eyes of a variety of characters. It examines the city in stories both short (one or two pages) and epic: the longer pieces remind me of Joyce but also of "May Day" by F. Scott Fitzgerald. There's a degree of magic to each story, never overdone and just right to the tenor of the events. People fall in and out of love; the city continues on its way, torn between preservation and innovation; and the people caught up in everyday life wonder what they can do. It's beautiful, and worthy of five stars (a rate rating for me to give to short-story collections).
If you liked "Dubliners," you'll love "The Coast of Chicago." I'm glad that I stuck with it, it's one of the best books I've read this year.
"The Coast of Chicago," by Stuart Dybek, is a panoramic look at the Second City through the eyes of a variety of characters. It examines the city in stories both short (one or two pages) and epic: the longer pieces remind me of Joyce but also of "May Day" by F. Scott Fitzgerald. There's a degree of magic to each story, never overdone and just right to the tenor of the events. People fall in and out of love; the city continues on its way, torn between preservation and innovation; and the people caught up in everyday life wonder what they can do. It's beautiful, and worthy of five stars (a rate rating for me to give to short-story collections).
If you liked "Dubliners," you'll love "The Coast of Chicago." I'm glad that I stuck with it, it's one of the best books I've read this year.
October 18, 2018
[Earlier this year, I had the honor of being asked to join the staff of the Chicago Literary Hall of Fame, specifically to help choose the honoree each year of the organization's Fuller Award for Lifetime Achievement. 2018's recipient was Stuart Dybek, and I was asked to write a critical overview of his work for the accompanying program. I'm reprinting it in full below.]
It’s been a fascinating thing this month to read through the entire prose oeuvre of Stuart Dybek in chronological order for the first time, as we here on the staff of the Chicago Literary Hall of Fame have been making plans for tonight’s ceremony, and have been gathering in the effusive praise from his friends and colleagues you’re reading in this program. Like many, I had read his most famous book, 1990’s The Coast of Chicago, in my twenties soon after it had come out; like many, it was at the urging of a woman I was trying to make into my latest romantic partner, a slam poet and former student of his who told me that "everything I needed to know about her" could be gleaned from the book; and like many, once I did read the book, Dybek’s unforgettable prose took on a life of its own with me, apart from the six bittersweet weeks said woman and I ended up together. (And strangely, like Dybek’s story “Córdoba,” said woman just happened to live at the corner of Buena Avenue and Marine Drive, which made me feel like one of the sweet but hapless male heroes of his pieces when coming across this fact last week.)
But still, I had never explored the rest of his fictional work before this month, so I decided to start with his first, 1980’s Childhood and Other Neighborhoods. Even 38 years later, it’s easy to see with this book why Dybek started gaining a feverish cult following from his very start, because the writing on display is startlingly unique; the magical realism of Gabriel García Márquez, the gritty urbanism of Nelson Algren, the sweet nostalgia of the Saturday Evening Post, but with the naughty subversion of the Countercultural era. (Also, what an astounding historical record of a Chicago that no longer exists, as best typified by the very first story of the book, "The Palatski Man," in which alley-going knife sharpeners on horse-drawn carriages still live in a wild rural wonderland, right in the middle of the city.)
Next came The Coast of Chicago, deservedly now known as a modern classic, one of those magical moments in literary history when everything came together perfectly. An expansion of Dybek’s look back at his childhood as a Polish-American in the Little Village neighborhood (in a post-war time when the area was undergoing a transition into a mostly Mexican neighborhood), it’s also a thoroughly contemporary collection of pieces about masculinity, sexuality, and experience-hungry youth, containing many of the most indelible and heartbreaking stories of his career, such as the aching "Chopin in Winter" where we watch the twin fates of a dying immigrant grandfather and an illegitimately pregnant teenage neighbor. (Also, for those keeping score, this is the book that contains the notorious "Pet Milk," mentioned over and over by his admirers in this program.)
A decade later saw Dybek’s so-far only novel, 2003’s I Sailed with Magellan, although this technically comes with an asterisk for being a "novel in stories," the literary length that he’s destined to be mostly remembered for. A non-linear look at the life of the sometimes infuriating, always engaging Perry Katzek, this is Dybek doing a deep dive into his checkered youth within a rough-and-tumble, pre-gentrification Chicago -- a world of mobsters and viaducts, dead disabled boys turned into Catholic martyrs, broke but striving social workers living in rundown northside SROs, and as always the women beside them who propelled them along, messy mistakes and all. To me, it was my favorite of all his books, and one I know I’ll be coming back to again and again for the rest of my life.
And finally, a decade after that, Dybek gave the world the remarkable gift of 59 new stories in a single year, with the twinned 2014 publications of Ecstatic Cahoots and Paper Lantern. A reflection of Dybek’s years of honing his craft in the academic world, as both a beloved professor and working artist, these pieces are mostly tiny little diamonds from a now master of his craft, fiction that often approaches flash-fiction but that packs all the wallop of stories ten times the size. Split between general stories (Cahoots) and specific love stories (Lantern), these books see Dybek at the absolute top of his game, a crowning achievement to a busy and award-packed career that is about to celebrate its half-century anniversary.
With all the wonderful anecdotes in this program from long-time friends who are intimately acquainted with his work, I’m proud to be one of the few to say that it’s perfectly all right if you’re not familiar yet with all of Stuart Dybek’s books. It is in fact a perfect time to become so, with all of his titles still in print and with a brand-new greatest-hits collection that was just recently published by Jonathan Cape/Vintage. Still as relevant as ever, still as powerful as ever, he is truly one of America’s greatest living authors, and a bright star in the annals of Chicago’s literary history.
It’s been a fascinating thing this month to read through the entire prose oeuvre of Stuart Dybek in chronological order for the first time, as we here on the staff of the Chicago Literary Hall of Fame have been making plans for tonight’s ceremony, and have been gathering in the effusive praise from his friends and colleagues you’re reading in this program. Like many, I had read his most famous book, 1990’s The Coast of Chicago, in my twenties soon after it had come out; like many, it was at the urging of a woman I was trying to make into my latest romantic partner, a slam poet and former student of his who told me that "everything I needed to know about her" could be gleaned from the book; and like many, once I did read the book, Dybek’s unforgettable prose took on a life of its own with me, apart from the six bittersweet weeks said woman and I ended up together. (And strangely, like Dybek’s story “Córdoba,” said woman just happened to live at the corner of Buena Avenue and Marine Drive, which made me feel like one of the sweet but hapless male heroes of his pieces when coming across this fact last week.)
But still, I had never explored the rest of his fictional work before this month, so I decided to start with his first, 1980’s Childhood and Other Neighborhoods. Even 38 years later, it’s easy to see with this book why Dybek started gaining a feverish cult following from his very start, because the writing on display is startlingly unique; the magical realism of Gabriel García Márquez, the gritty urbanism of Nelson Algren, the sweet nostalgia of the Saturday Evening Post, but with the naughty subversion of the Countercultural era. (Also, what an astounding historical record of a Chicago that no longer exists, as best typified by the very first story of the book, "The Palatski Man," in which alley-going knife sharpeners on horse-drawn carriages still live in a wild rural wonderland, right in the middle of the city.)
Next came The Coast of Chicago, deservedly now known as a modern classic, one of those magical moments in literary history when everything came together perfectly. An expansion of Dybek’s look back at his childhood as a Polish-American in the Little Village neighborhood (in a post-war time when the area was undergoing a transition into a mostly Mexican neighborhood), it’s also a thoroughly contemporary collection of pieces about masculinity, sexuality, and experience-hungry youth, containing many of the most indelible and heartbreaking stories of his career, such as the aching "Chopin in Winter" where we watch the twin fates of a dying immigrant grandfather and an illegitimately pregnant teenage neighbor. (Also, for those keeping score, this is the book that contains the notorious "Pet Milk," mentioned over and over by his admirers in this program.)
A decade later saw Dybek’s so-far only novel, 2003’s I Sailed with Magellan, although this technically comes with an asterisk for being a "novel in stories," the literary length that he’s destined to be mostly remembered for. A non-linear look at the life of the sometimes infuriating, always engaging Perry Katzek, this is Dybek doing a deep dive into his checkered youth within a rough-and-tumble, pre-gentrification Chicago -- a world of mobsters and viaducts, dead disabled boys turned into Catholic martyrs, broke but striving social workers living in rundown northside SROs, and as always the women beside them who propelled them along, messy mistakes and all. To me, it was my favorite of all his books, and one I know I’ll be coming back to again and again for the rest of my life.
And finally, a decade after that, Dybek gave the world the remarkable gift of 59 new stories in a single year, with the twinned 2014 publications of Ecstatic Cahoots and Paper Lantern. A reflection of Dybek’s years of honing his craft in the academic world, as both a beloved professor and working artist, these pieces are mostly tiny little diamonds from a now master of his craft, fiction that often approaches flash-fiction but that packs all the wallop of stories ten times the size. Split between general stories (Cahoots) and specific love stories (Lantern), these books see Dybek at the absolute top of his game, a crowning achievement to a busy and award-packed career that is about to celebrate its half-century anniversary.
With all the wonderful anecdotes in this program from long-time friends who are intimately acquainted with his work, I’m proud to be one of the few to say that it’s perfectly all right if you’re not familiar yet with all of Stuart Dybek’s books. It is in fact a perfect time to become so, with all of his titles still in print and with a brand-new greatest-hits collection that was just recently published by Jonathan Cape/Vintage. Still as relevant as ever, still as powerful as ever, he is truly one of America’s greatest living authors, and a bright star in the annals of Chicago’s literary history.
December 7, 2021
I read this book specifically because I was going to join a book club, but then I read it and had no interesting thoughts or points, so I decided not to. Also I feel like short stories are always hard for me? Anyway, this was fine, but I feel like I really didn’t get anything out of it.
January 17, 2020
Kind of like the Charles Bukowski of prose.
June 4, 2021
I migliori racconti, quelli lunghi (il resto sembra un po' un riempitivo): Chopin d'inverno, Degrado, I nottambuli, Ghiaccio caldo, Latte condensato.
Cit.
Cit.
January 4, 2024
Did not love Bijou or Nighthawks but everything else was TOP CLASS. Must read for Chicago folks. This guy just gets it!
November 23, 2025
Short story perfection.
January 16, 2021
Solid selection of stories. “Pet Milk” is one of my all-time favourites
November 21, 2025
So many wonderful portraits of Chicago! A real joy to reread!
Displaying 1 - 30 of 286 reviews