Responding to “My Father’s Life,” by Raymond Carver
The last paragraph of this essay is my favorite by far, “…in their beautiful voices out of my childhood. Raymond.” The author of this story made it so tangible the dislike Raymond Jr. had for his birth name that it felt like a true revelation when the character finally embraced it. To hear his father’s name echo as his own name and to enjoy it leaves the reader with the same sense of happiness.
The author of this essay has such a grasp on the lives and senses of a lower class worker that he surely must have experienced it in his childhood. It doesn’t surprise me to find out that his father worked at a saw-mill. That type of gritty upbringing must leave an indelible mark on your psyche. This mark was clearly a reservoir from which to pull deep and meaningful prose that truly paints a picture in the mind of someone who lacks those same experiences.
This essay tells the story of a boy who liked his father more than most. This boy even liked his father, very possibly, more than his mother. It also tells how perceptive the boy and, later on, man were. This Raymond Jr. recognized the weaknesses of his father and still fell into the same traps himself.
This essay taught me much about the depression era environment that the main character’s father, Clevie Raymond Carver, grew up in. His father rode on boxcards and pickled apples to get by. He also was able to set aside money to buy a car. I never imagined an environment where a day laborer would have the excess income to set aside spare change. In this modern age of paycheck to paycheck living that is truly an amazing feat.
If the author was able to expand on his writings to fulfill a request of mine I would prefer to hear more about his father’s life before marriage. His father clearly had faults but what drove him into that personality. The character’s father was an alcoholic but still strived to better the life of his