Mary Robison
Author of Why Did I Ever
About the Author
Mary Robison was born in Washington, D.C. She is the recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship, two Pushcart Prizes, an O. Henry Award, the Los Angeles Times Book Prize for Fiction, and the 2018 Arts and Letters Award in Literature. She is the author of four novels and four story collections. She lives show more in Gainesville, Florida. show less
Image credit: Photo by Pier Rodelon. Courtesy Counterpoint Press.
Works by Mary Robison
Quello che sento (in Dimmi) 1 copy
I gemelli Wellman (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Lo specchio (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Preoccupazioni (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Geniale (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Sorelle (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Likely Lake (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Le tue (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Per davvero (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Robison Mary 1 copy
Yours — Author — 1 copy
Apostasia (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Figlie (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Il Mister (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Fumo (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Nel bosco (in Dimmi) 1 copy
L'aiuto (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Tirare avanti (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Padre, nonno (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Tentativi (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Ghiaccio carino (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Un periodo a casa (in Dimmi) 1 copy
A Jewel (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Ho ventun anni (in Dimmi) 1 copy
Associated Works
Object Lessons: The Paris Review Presents the Art of the Short Story (2012) — Contributor — 221 copies
Tagged
Common Knowledge
- Other names
- Robison, Mary Cennamo
- Birthdate
- 1949-01-14
- Gender
- female
- Nationality
- USA
- Birthplace
- Washington, D.C., USA
- Education
- Johns Hopkins University
Ohio State University - Occupations
- short story writer
novelist
professor - Relationships
- Robison, James (former husband)
- Short biography
- Mary Robison, née Cennamo, was born in Washington, D.C. to F. Elizabeth (Cennamo) Reiss, a child psychologist, and Anthony Cennamo, a patent attorney, and grew up in Columbus, Ohio. She started writing as a child and. She attended Ohio State University and earned an M.A. from Johns Hopkins University, where she studied with John Barth. She taught creative writing at numerous colleges and universities, including Oberlin and Harvard before becoming a professor at the University of Florida. She began publishing her work in The New Yorker magazine in 1977 with the short story "Sisters." The New Yorker has since published two dozen of her stories, many of which also appear in anthologies. Her first collection of short stories, Days: Stories, was published in 1979. Her novel Oh!, published in 1981, was adapted into the 1989 film Twister. Her other works include the short story collections An Amateur's Guide to the Night (1983) and Believe Them (1988). In the 1990s she suffered from severe writer's block and, in an effort to overcome it, scribbled her thoughts on thousands of index cards. These cards were the basis of her novel Why Did I Ever (2001). Her novel One DOA, One on the Way (2009) was chosen by Oprah Winfrey's Book Club. Robison has two daughters and has been married twice. Her second husband was author James Robison.
Members
Reviews
I enjoy when a book goes from "Aw, this is a fuckin' gingersnap" to "Touch me again and I'll cut you" in a matter of a few lines. I think what I liked most about this book was the fact that it was so dedicated to the banalities of every day life.
491
Maybe it's me.
491
Maybe it's me.
Before I get going, it's worth pointing out that I read this almost entirely because a friend of mine, who is a writer, was very influenced by this book. Left to my own devices, I likely wouldn't have picked it up. So be aware that I'm not Robison's audience.
That said, I'm concerned that there are very serious things wrong with me, and that this book brought them all out.
I don't care very much about 'consistent characters' or verisimilitude or realism or whatever. That said, this book seems to be reaching for verisimilitude at least, and I'm more than a little confused about the main character, who was married to a Latin Professor, has read Melville's 'Pierre,' and often makes off-the-cuff references to John Ashbery, but apparently does not know what the word 'tort' means.
ii) That doesn't matter at all, provided you get something else from the book, and I should be able to get something from this, since our narrator is very flippant and I like flippancy. But I'm not sure what I was meant to get out of this: there's a woman. She's writing a script for Hollywood big-wigs (this is clearly meant to be satire). She's got a new boyfriend who is rich and a moron. She's trying to deal with the fact that her son has been raped and tortured, and the criminal is coming up for trial. Also, her daughter is overcoming heroin addiction. But I don't care about any of these things, and I suspect many readers will feel the same way. All of the events are reported in the same voice, whether it's someone looking up the word 'tort' or the horrific assault.
iii) There's a nice level of reflexivity early on: our narrator has painted a fake Rothko. Her friend complains that there's no "focal point. Something for our eyes to fix on, finally, and rest upon. Something we end up gazing at." The narrator responds, "It's! A! Copy!" Of course, the same can be said about this book; it lacks a focal point, lacks anything for us to fix on, finally. The implication here is that we shouldn't look for that one thing to fix on, finally. That's a good point.
So this book gives me at least two of the things I really value in fiction, but also makes me complain about things I don't really care about. That's an odd mix.
So, the content being more or less boring, the most important aspect of the book is its fragmentary form (the part of the book that has most influenced my friend). And it is nicely done, and a nice way to stick to garden variety realism while avoiding some of that mode's worst flaws (most obviously, Robison doesn't need to join everything together, so the book is compact and engaging). On the other hand, the brevity of the fragments forces the author to restrict herself, I fear, for the worse. There's not all that much that can be said in half a dozen lines to one page, and although there are few dud fragments here, there's also very little that sticks in my mind. A lot of people are writing like this now. The form is in a pretty obviously dialectical relationship, the other tendency being very, very long sentences, an absence of paragraph or chapter breaks, and, at the most extreme, books comprising only one sentence (Vanessa Place; Laszlo Krasznahorkai). We can all learn from both forms; the best books of the next generation will, I hope, take the best of the minimalist, fragmentary approach and the best of the maximalist.… (more)
That said, I'm concerned that there are very serious things wrong with me, and that this book brought them all out.
I don't care very much about 'consistent characters' or verisimilitude or realism or whatever. That said, this book seems to be reaching for verisimilitude at least, and I'm more than a little confused about the main character, who was married to a Latin Professor, has read Melville's 'Pierre,' and often makes off-the-cuff references to John Ashbery, but apparently does not know what the word 'tort' means.
ii) That doesn't matter at all, provided you get something else from the book, and I should be able to get something from this, since our narrator is very flippant and I like flippancy. But I'm not sure what I was meant to get out of this: there's a woman. She's writing a script for Hollywood big-wigs (this is clearly meant to be satire). She's got a new boyfriend who is rich and a moron. She's trying to deal with the fact that her son has been raped and tortured, and the criminal is coming up for trial. Also, her daughter is overcoming heroin addiction. But I don't care about any of these things, and I suspect many readers will feel the same way. All of the events are reported in the same voice, whether it's someone looking up the word 'tort' or the horrific assault.
iii) There's a nice level of reflexivity early on: our narrator has painted a fake Rothko. Her friend complains that there's no "focal point. Something for our eyes to fix on, finally, and rest upon. Something we end up gazing at." The narrator responds, "It's! A! Copy!" Of course, the same can be said about this book; it lacks a focal point, lacks anything for us to fix on, finally. The implication here is that we shouldn't look for that one thing to fix on, finally. That's a good point.
So this book gives me at least two of the things I really value in fiction, but also makes me complain about things I don't really care about. That's an odd mix.
So, the content being more or less boring, the most important aspect of the book is its fragmentary form (the part of the book that has most influenced my friend). And it is nicely done, and a nice way to stick to garden variety realism while avoiding some of that mode's worst flaws (most obviously, Robison doesn't need to join everything together, so the book is compact and engaging). On the other hand, the brevity of the fragments forces the author to restrict herself, I fear, for the worse. There's not all that much that can be said in half a dozen lines to one page, and although there are few dud fragments here, there's also very little that sticks in my mind. A lot of people are writing like this now. The form is in a pretty obviously dialectical relationship, the other tendency being very, very long sentences, an absence of paragraph or chapter breaks, and, at the most extreme, books comprising only one sentence (Vanessa Place; Laszlo Krasznahorkai). We can all learn from both forms; the best books of the next generation will, I hope, take the best of the minimalist, fragmentary approach and the best of the maximalist.… (more)
For the most part, these are "slice of life" stories. That is, they aren't stories with obvious plot or conflict or character arc. No three act structure or five elements of plot or four calling birds. They are moments in the lives of their characters. But one shouldn't say "just" moments in the lives... These are carefully and beautifully crafted moments in the lives of carefully and beautifully crafted characters, and that's enough to give these stories great depth and emotional resonance. One can imagine Robison's stories as something precious and beautiful, cradled in their author's hands, shown to us for only a few moments and then taken away, so that the briefness of our time with the characters and their lives only adds to the memorable poignancy of the story.
In some of these stories the plot isn't all that obscure. We sometimes see Robison's characters in a moment of crisis or emotional intensity, and there's a sense of resolution and closure at the end. But such stories are the exception in this volume. More often, one is likely to come away wondering why Robison chose to show those particular moments in her characters' lives -- why those particular events, those pieces of dialog, those thoughts? Why did the story begin where it began and end where it ended? Well, perhaps because thinking about that question is one path into the greater richness and depth of the story. Or alternatively, perhaps it's enough to dip into the lives of some interesting and beautifully crafted characters, spend some time with them, and un-dip back out of their lives. Perhaps no more "point" than that is necessary.… (more)
In some of these stories the plot isn't all that obscure. We sometimes see Robison's characters in a moment of crisis or emotional intensity, and there's a sense of resolution and closure at the end. But such stories are the exception in this volume. More often, one is likely to come away wondering why Robison chose to show those particular moments in her characters' lives -- why those particular events, those pieces of dialog, those thoughts? Why did the story begin where it began and end where it ended? Well, perhaps because thinking about that question is one path into the greater richness and depth of the story. Or alternatively, perhaps it's enough to dip into the lives of some interesting and beautifully crafted characters, spend some time with them, and un-dip back out of their lives. Perhaps no more "point" than that is necessary.… (more)
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Statistics
- Works
- 44
- Also by
- 6
- Members
- 714
- Popularity
- #35,524
- Rating
- 3.7
- Reviews
- 14
- ISBNs
- 37
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If I'd had the wherewithal to write like Justin Taylor's in Swanee Review Fall 2018, I'd have described this book as follows:
"The novel feels antic, random, and tossed-off because Robison has achieved that superlative unity of voice, style, and character known as total effect. Every sentence is clean as a sun-bleached bone, and scenes rarely start or end where you think they would, but there is always meaning being made, withholding and then revealing itself like a well-bluffed hand of cards. "
https://thesewaneereview.com/articles/close-to-the-bone-mary-robison-reconsidere...… (more)