The recent survey of my writer and reader acquaintances confirmed the notion I’ve held for a while: James Salter is America’s best little-known author. Not only have my “literary” friends not read his books, they had never heard of him.
It’s not as though Salter (born in 1925) hasn’t been around for a long time; his first novel “A Sport and a Pastime,” was released in 1967. While he’s not terribly prolific, his output until now has been steady: five novels, one short-story collection (“Dusk”) and two works of nonfiction (he also has written screenplays, including for the acclaimed movie “Downhill Racer,” starring Robert Redford). His books have earned kudos from critics and reviewers. And yet, Salter has been flying under the radar throughout his career (I’m using this tired expression only because Salter was a fighter pilot during the Korean War and has written two novels based on the experience: “Cassada” and “The Hunters”).
Salter’s latest effort is a collection of stories titled “Last Night.” It’s a short book (132 pages) composed of 10 stories, some of which were previously published in premier magazines such as “The New Yorker,” “Esquire” and movie director Francis Ford Coppola’s “Zoetrope.” All are grown-up stories, not the in-your-face, explosive, aren’t- I-a-cool-dude short fiction that is the norm these days. Not that there’s necessarily anything wrong with the latter approach, but Salter’s sophisticated and subdued ways, though traditional, are refreshing.
And the majority of the characters populating the collection are middle-aged. There’s an ophthalmologist, a movie producer, an attorney, a Realtor, an insufferable fading Hollywood actress. They lead the good life (living in luxury Manhattan apartments, eating caviar, drinking fancy wines and expensive liquor), but many of them think too much for their own good. Some come to startling realizations about their lives – missed opportunities, wrong turns, major errors of judgment.
Many of the stories read like small novels, with the narrator following one character then another, thus constructing small worlds that interconnect and enrich one another, an arrangement of scenes that create a complete and very satisfying tableau.
Salter’s prose is both fluid and precise; nothing about it is superfluous or flashy. This is a writer who has mastered the art of evoking a lot with an economy of words. He’s especially good at describing characters: “She came out of the ocean and dried herself like the gypsy girl, ankles caked with sand. She could feel the sun burnishing her shoulders. Hair wet, deep in the emptiness of days, she walked her bicycle up the road, the dirt velvety beneath her feet.”
Several of the stories in “Last Night” are reminiscent of those of an extremely well-known writer: John Cheever. It’s not only because of the settings (New York City, a seaside town on the East Coast) and the subject matter (tales of chronically conflicted and disenchanted well-off people), but also the flawless cadence of the narrative, the elegance of the style and the way the stories are filled with emotions without ever becoming sentimental.
Who knows why James Salter’s books haven’t reached as wide an audience as they deserve, why his name isn’t more recognized – but do yourself a favor and discover this author. His latest collection of stories makes for a wonderful introduction to his fiction.
Jean Charbonneau is a freelance writer in Baltimore.
Last Night
By James Salter
Knopf, 132 pages, $20
