The Ballad of the Sad Cafe: Wunderkind; The Jockey; Madame Zilensky and the King of Finland; The Sojourner; A Domestic Dilemma; A Tree, A Rock, A Cloud (Penguin Modern Classics) [Paperback]

This is a limpid, beautiful story, wonderfully told. The whole setting exemplifies Southern Gothic from the word go: "The town itself is dreary; not much is there except the cotton-mill, the two-room houses where the workers live, a few peach trees, a church with two coloured windows, and a miserable main street only a hundred yards long."

I was hooked by the beginning, evoking dilapidation, isolation, heat, distress and latent fear/weirdness. Much has been written on McCullough's "lover and beloved" theme, well explored here. The characters are an unforgettable collection of weirdos, still, somehow, typically American; the descriptions are poetic. In general the writing rings true, is economic yet lyrical - nothing is wasted.

Great as "The Great Gatsby", in its way. Much better than "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter". It lives up to its title, truly a "ballad" - a songlike story. And the ballad of the mixed-race chain gang that ends it ties the story to the South.

I was sorry to finish it! Utterly compelling.

In The Ballad of the Sad Café, McCullers displays her most vivid example of unrequited love with the triangle created by the story's three main characters. The American Heritage Dictionary defines a ballad as "a narrative poem, often of folk origin and intended to be sung, consisting of simple stanzas and usually having a recurrent refrain." Miss Amelia's love for Cousin Lymon, Cousin Lymon's love for Marvin Macy, and Marvin Macy's love for Miss Amelia can be seen as this refrain. It is with this love triangle that McCullers delineates her brilliant observation of the relationship between the lover and the beloved. She describes love "as a joint experience between two persons," but explains that the experience is often very different for those involved. The lover has a store of love that needs to be projected; the object of this love is incidental. It is the love itself that must be spent, and "the value and quantity of any love is determined solely by the lover himself."

She writes: "It is for this reason that most of us would rather love than be loved. Almost everyone wants to be the lover. And the curt truth is that, in a deep secret way, the state of being beloved is intolerable to many. The beloved fears and hates the lover, and with the best of reasons. For the lover is forever trying to strip bare the beloved."

The lover is the Enthusiastic Taker, while the beloved is expected to be the Reluctant Giver. The three characters in the story are doubly tragic, because they inhabit, at one time or another, both roles. Miss Amelia is the most sympathetic "point" of the triangle. Because her harsh treatment of Marvin Macy is in the past, she is unable to undo it. Her role as beloved came about without the lesson she learns as the lover of Cousin Lymon. Following this logic, it would seem that Marvin Macy, then, is the least sympathetic "point." One considers his spiteful treatment of Cousin Lymon abhorrent, especially since he was treated the same way by Miss Amelia. But the reason he is not the least sympathetic is because he can be somewhat forgiven for forgetting his experience as the lover, considering the gap in time and his stay in the penitentiary. What one is left with, then, is Cousin Lymon, who becomes the least sympathetic of them all. His experiences as lover and beloved are happening concurrently. His behavior is not redeemable; one gets the feeling that he should know better. The symmetry McCullers displays with this triangle creates a memorable and educational structure, indeed.

So, the question begs to be asked: Can anything be done, in McCullers' view, to attain mutual love, or are we perpetual slaves to immutable biology and the fundamentals of human relationships? McCullers gives one hope with her short story "A Tree, A Rock, A Cloud." In this story a man in a bar stops a young boy by telling him he loves him. He then proceeds to explain that "`With me [love] is a science.'" He believes that the reason love fails is because men "`start at the wrong end of love.'" Without guidance of any kind, men "undertake the most dangerous and sacred experience in God's earth. They fall in love with a woman.'" He states that men should learn to love step-by-step, by first learning to love these objects of nature, before moving on to the treacherous endeavor of loving a woman. Love should be practiced, reflected upon, spread around. The lover must learn how to love one step at a time; and then, perhaps, it becomes possible to attain beneficial love that feeds the soul rather than love that eats it away. This is the last hope, it seems, for McCullers in her search for mutual love. One gets the impression of a cautious optimist, protecting herself diligently from the pains of unrequited love, but nonetheless unwilling - or perhaps incapable - of giving up the endeavor altogether.

I was first turned onto Carson McCullers in a southern lit class in college. Sad Cafe was required reading, and one of the best stories I read that whole semester. I found myself reading it again and again because I just liked the way the story sounded in my head. McCullers has such a simple technique for description and writing. It's so easy to understand, and it stays with you. Unlike a lot of stories, it's uncluttered and her writing is the bare soul of her characters.

Beware, if you are new to southern lit you might want to know a few tips...stories are usually a tragedy, the characters are usually flawed emotionally and often physically, and setting plays a huge part of the story. Don't forget language either. Carson McCullers captures the true essence of all of these in her writing. Sad Cafe is no exception.

It is a story that stays with you in some way. I know it has definitely stayed with me. I find myself wanting to pick it up again and again. Whether you are from the South or not, don't miss out on this beautiful and haunting piece of literature.