“To take up residence in the mind of Mavis Gallant, as one does in reading her stories, is a privilege and delight,” writes Phyllis Rose, to begin her review of Overhead in a Balloon in the March 18, 1987 issue of The New Yorker.
She speaks of Gallant’s ability to conjure up Paris “more knowingly than any other fiction writer in English” and believes her to be “very likely the Colette of our time”.
She describes the author’s work and conversation as being “full of laughter”, the stories possessing a “wicked humor that misses nothing, combined with sophistication so great it amounts to forgiveness”.
All of this I share with you here, because not only does Rose praise this Paris collection, but she also astutely observes and describes the intricacies of the interconnections between these twelve stories, and perhaps you would prefer to discover those via your own reading. (If not, enjoy!)
Perhaps you would prefer to begin by wandering into Amandine’s the bookstore described on the second page of “Speck’s Idea”, which sounds like it contains “shelves of calm regional novels and accounts of travel to Imperial Russia signed ‘A Diplomat’”.
Alas, it’s not that kind of store.
This is also not the kind of story in which characters say ‘Alas’.
Here we meet characters like the mother who is sitting near the radiator, “crouched all winter looking like a sheep with an earache”. Characters considering life’s unanswerable questions (“why money slumps, why prices climb, why it rains in August, why children are ungrateful”) only to determine that the “answers might easily come from a man with a box of slides”.
Others serve food in a restaurant like “setting out like little votive offerings the raw-carrot salad, the pot-roast vegetables without the meat, the quarter ounce of low-fat cheese, and a small pear”.
Occasionally there is a sharp observations like this one, in which “Speck described in the lightest possible manner how Henriette had followed her lover, a teacher of literature, to a depressed part of French-speaking Africa where the inhabitants were suffering from a shortage of Racine”.
For, while this story is securely rooted in Paris, “Speck’s Idea” has a much broader reach. Sure, you can trace Speck’s route in the early pages on a city map, as he zigzags from the 4th to the 7th arrondisements, finally ending up with a small gallery space in the Faubourg Saint-Germain.
Speck’s gallery is east of the Eiffel Tower. There are so many beautiful images of the tower, but this one reflects my experience of Mavis Gallant’s writing in this story because it shows both decorative and utilitarian structures side-by-side. It’s up-close and contains a lot of detail, just like Speck spends a lot of time in his own head, thinking and over-thinking, muscling out something-like-sense from the surrounding chaos.
But Paris is rooted firmly in a European climate which is struggling to understand what it means when someone shouts “Fascist”. Speck’s discovery of a competing gallery owner in Italy, seeking to exhibit the same undervalued artist (Hubert Cruche) whose works Speck intends to display in his own gallery space, carries an additional significance.
But the actual significance is something Speck struggles to understand. And how he – and his plans for the gallery – fits into the picture is also complicated. (To say nothing of the fact that he is dealing with the now-deceased artist’s wife, who appears to be inconsistent if not unreliable, while still navigating the detritus of his second marriage, still hearing the echoes of his ex-wife’s cry as she left him. “Fascist!” Yes, that’s right. Because of course the personal is always political.)
“One could no longer lump together young hotheads whose passionate belief in Europe had led them straight to the Charlemagne Division of the Waffen-S.S. and the soft middle class that had stayed behind to make money on the black market. Speck could not quite remember why pure Fascism had been better for civilization that the other kind, but somewhere on the safe side of the barrier there was bound to be a slot for Cruche.”
Francine Prose quotes a passage from “Speck’s Idea” to illustrate her admiration of Mavis Gallant’s prose: “Line by line, word by word, no one writes more compactly, more densely, with more compression.” (Source)
Speck is not a young hothead. He a 39-year-old vegetarian scribbling notes on a yellow lined pad of paper, trying to assemble a gallery showing, over a solitary meal in a restaurant he frequents. He’s struggling to remember who is/was all-Europe, struggling to differentiate between different intensities of fascism, struggling to remember why he is struggling in the first place, how he ended up so alone in the crowd.
There is no question that today’s readers will be able to locate themselves in this short story
Overhead in a Balloon‘s stories: Speck’s Idea / Overhead in a Balloon / Luc and His Father / A Painful Affair / Larry / A Flying Start / Grippes and Poche / A Recollection / Rue de Lille / The Colonel’s Child / Lena / The Assembly
Note: This is part of a series of posts on Mavis Gallant’s stories, as I read through her short fiction. This is the first story in Overhead in a Balloon. Please feel free to check the schedule and join in, for the series, or for a single story; I would love the company. Next story: “Overhead in a Balloon”.
I love that picture of the Eiffel Tower you posted. Sounds like a good story. I have neglected poor Mavis for a long while. She’s still lingering in my Kindle app. The one I completely forget that I have.
I’m having fun choosing different Eiffel Tower views for each story in this collection. Given how much you enjoy linked collections, I think you’d enjoy this one: it’s fun to tease out the connections.
In July i Will be once again participating in Paris in July and Will come back to this story then. I do need elaboration on The comparison to Colette
Ooooo, this collection will be perfect for that event: I haven’t joined for years, maybe this would bring me back into the “fold”! 🙂
“It’s also almost startling that these matters remain recognizable, even relevant!” Yes!
” in this story I was actually snickering at regular intervals.” And Yes! 🙂
I’m off to a good start – only a day behind!
That Francine Prose quote is perfect – it’s something I really noticed in this story. Several times, Gallant just sneaks in, smoothly and naturally, cultural references of the time. The Senator thinks about the fact that his “recent prose had been about the capital-gains-tax project, the Common Market sugar-beet subsidy, and the uninformed ecological campaign against plastic container.” (The campaign against plastic containers is especially interesting!) And when Speck is driving he’s listening to the radio at the same time where he hears “a lecture about the cultural oppression of Cajuns in Louisiana, a warning that the road he is now driving on is saturated, and the disheartening squeaks and wails of a circumcision ceremony in Ethiopia”. Just like that we know about a bunch of issues that people were thinking about at the time!
I also loved the humour in this one. Poor Speck was not very lucky, and his little art gallery seemed perpetually doomed. “Speck was now in the parish of St. Clotilde, near enough to the church for its bells to give him migraine headache. Leaves from the church square blew as far as his door – melancholy reminders of autumn, a season bad for art. (Winter was bad, too, while the first chestnut leaves unfolding heralded the worst season of all. In summer the gallery closed.) chuckle
A few lines I liked: “As he approached the age of forty he felt that his own intellect needed not just a direction but retaining walls.”
“The right show at the right time: it was trickier than getting married to the right person at any time.”
“Nothing political had ever struck Speck as being above the level of a low-grade comic strip.”
“Before driving away, Speck took a deep breath of west-end air. It was cool and dry, like Speck’s new expression.”
I also got a kick out of the way Speck pretended to eat things with sugar in them. And his “rules” of disappointment. And I learned what “kicked by Venus” means.
Yup, I really enjoyed this story!
And that’s, by far, the longest story – you are doing just great!
She’s amazing, isn’t she? I love the bits you’ve identified and quoted. So direct. And, yet, it feels natural, too. Not like she is quoting a textbook or choosing something that would be listed as the major political events of the day. (It’s also almost startling that these matters remain recognizable, even relevant!)
Hee hee. Poor Speck indeed. He’s really only got spring. And, as we learn in this story, his next spring is not going to unfold quite the way he’d dared to dream either.
I remember chuckling occasionally in other stories, and quite often noting her wry observations and one corner of my mouth a-twitch, but in this story I was actually snickering at regular intervals.
One of my favourite lines was the one about the retaining wall too. I kept rereading that, and it takes on a new resonance after we get to know a little more about Speck’s intellect.
Hopefully you won’t have occasion to apply your newfound “kicked by Venus” knowledge to other characters’ experience, in or out of this volume of stories. But it’s quite a tactful way of saying it, isn’t it. And I bet more than one person will go scurrying off to search out the answer, now that you’ve called attention to it here!
Here’s hoping the others are just as enjoyable!