This is the third book by Raymond Carver I have read in as many weeks and while I enjoyed a story or two in this collection, I still fail to see what the excitement is all about. Out of the three books that I read, this one was the most difficult to get through, finding most of these storiesboring. While reading this book something occurred to me. Carver is known for his “minimalist” style. In other words, extremely straightforward, stripped down writing. The influence of Hemingway is definitely apparent but these stories do not seem to have the same life as Hemingway’s short fiction. At least to me. What occurred to me while reading these stories is that apparently a “minimalist” prose style is viewed very differently depending on the kind of stories one writes. If one is writing genre fiction, using the same, “minimalist” style, they are deemed “shit”. If you are a “Literary” fiction writer using the same “minimalist” style, you are considered a “genius”. Sorry, folks. I still don’t get it.