Some fiction stays with you. I've been thinking about why certain pieces of fiction cling to my thoughts, while others, even very good ones, fly away as through lost through an open window. I am pretty sure that the themes in some writers' work strike close to home, and that's certainly true with these two. The first is by Truman Capote and the second is by Shirley Jackson.
Back in 1947, Capote's story "Shut a Final Door" looked at the self-destructive decisions the young author was already making, the kind that would leave him, in late mid-life, lost in an alcoholic haze of willful forgetting. During the whole of his life, Capote knew what he should not do, and he did it anyway.
You can read both a magazine article which includes "Shut a Final Door" along with some relevant background about Capote's life choices HERE.
Now for the Shirley Jackson story.
I can't prove that Shirley Jackson was writing about herself when she created a selfish woman who abuses a friendship in "Just Like Mother Used to Make," but if you know anything about her at all you can see why I think she did. I feel sorrier for Jackson than I do for Capote as I think Jackson suffered from remorse. Like most of us, I don't think she realized fully until she was older and wiser the pain one person could cause.
Audio version of "Like Mother Used To Make"
Next week: A funny post, for a nice change
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