Last Stories

by William Trevor
Viking

book review by Christopher Klim

“He slept and waited still, but he knew in dreams that only angels were is solace.”

William Trevor posthumously delivers his final collection of stories in the aptly titled, Last Stories. Widely considered a master of the short form, Trevor does not disappoint in this assembly of late and mostly unseen work. We’ll dispense quickly with the accolades, which include prizes short and tall and at least ten New York Times bestsellers, some of which occurred in a time when the public has nearly ceased reading literary works and especially short stories. It suffices to say that more than one writer, during Trevor’s eighty-eight years, today works in the short form because of this author, and this trend will no doubt continue.

Trevor inhabits his characters, running the nuance of their thoughts without the navel-gazing of too many modern writers. These are not always likable people. We are appalled by their humanity, we blush at their foolishness, and we sometimes desire to close the book on them, but we have to know. These are not archetypes. There are no heroes, and we won’t be bowled over with pyrotechnics or punched by absurdity, but the characters will resonate and linger. Trevor appeared to love people for all their warts and wants. This and his entire body of work proves it.

During his narratives, the author throttles with expert control. Whether it be the express train or, as seen more often, the local crawl, all of this is taking us somewhere, most often to Trevor’s patented final twist. Unless you’re familiar with his work, it’s difficult to explain exactly how he does it. We should anticipate a final shift during the read, but it takes us by surprise. When his insights are laid bare, he exists without another word. This economy is part of his craft. We’re left with the feeling that we’ve been given the privilege of entering a Trevor live character sketch and suddenly a story pops up around it.

So that’s the crash course in William Trevor.

In honor of Mr. Trevor and in keeping with the spirit of his work, we’re going to keep this review short, and without knowing whether Trevor was a tea toddler or not, we raise a glass of fine whiskey to a glorious life in letters. We hope you pick up this latest work or one of his other exquisite collections. You couldn’t pass a summer’s day in better fashion.

RECOMMENDED by the US Review

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The Book Killers: Dead Dialogue

In this ongoing series, Christopher Klim, author and senior editor of the US Review of Books, takes a look at common errors that undermine books.

There are many ways to deliver dead dialogue upon arrival. Flabby, unfocused, and unnatural conversation between characters will kill a book in the best places. Certain readers gloss over narratives, but bear down on the stretches of dialogue. It’s like bugging a nearby conversation, hoping to hear special information uncovered, but poor dialogue disappoints every time, and shakes believability in the characters. Let’s take a look at ways to strengthen dialogue.

Let Them Speak for Themselves

Forced or unnatural conversations betray both the character and writer. When a writer stuffs words and information into the mouths of those in the scene, he creates a bad drama on stage for the purposes of transporting the story. Before the characters can even talk, the writer must understand who they are. When well-drawn characters enter a scene, they begin speaking for themselves. Their cadence and word choice will be a product of their histories and what they desire. They’ll reveal secrets in the subtext. As Robert Stone once said, “All dialogue is a conversation with the soul.”

Keep It Real, But…

While strong characters have a unique manner of speech, too much of it offers speed bumps in the exchange. It forces the reader to constantly interpret to discover the inner meaning of their words. Consider sprinkling dialect and inflection indicators throughout the conversation, instead of marking every instance. Readers will begin hearing the unique voice, without the authorial stage direction. The same goes for dialogue modifiers—those fantastic adverbs that describe their tone. Well-written dialogue wrought through great characters and circumstance will imply the tone without having to describe it.

Tighten Up

In real life, not all conversation has a purpose. We sit over drinks or on the phone and pass the time, revealing nuggets of life along the way. Perhaps, all we gather is a sense of how the other person is feeling at the moment. In a written work, idle conversation is death for the narrative flow, when it should form some of the most interesting stretches.  Great authors effectively enter conversation during its key moments and exit when nothing important is said or when the central message has been delivered. Even within those moments, they trim out the fat, employing color only for impact and to illuminate circumstance and character.

Hear the Voices

Now, we’re dropping back before the first bit of dialogue is written, before the first character exists. Prior to drawing great characters and letting them speak, writers must become a student of voice—both specifically and in general. Everyone speaks differently and at different moments. They reveal the truth on different levels. Eavesdrop on people talking. Be quiet and listen. Learn to hear not only how people speak, but the subtext that emerges within the conversation. For example, liars or those hiding information will say much in the unsaid. Fearful or grieving people will skirt that which affects them most.

To a skilled writer, dialogue arrives fluidly. She knows how and what the characters must say. Others have an inexplicable natural talent for delivering stunning conversation on the page. Many biographers select key moments to insert a phrase or passage that brings the figure to life. This occurs also in fiction, although generally on a wider palette where exact quotations are not required. In all narrative forms, dialogue is one of the writer’s greatest tools, which cannot be overexploited, but can be poorly employed.

Next in The Book Killers series: Wandering Plots

Previously in The Book Killers series: Weak Point of View