Ask yourself sometime, what are the most intrinsic fears from which humanity suffers? Surely fears of rejection and solitude would have to be at the top of the list, and it is these feelings that Sam Shepard primarily explores in his new collection of stories, entitled "Great Dream of Heaven."
The stories within the collection are generally brief, running no more than 10 pages in most instances, and most are a mere glimpse into the solitary lives of the characters. In the end, this means no sort of development or resolution of the common feeling of emptiness.
In "The Door to Women," a young man and his grandfather live together in a small town without the companionship of any women. The story beings, "By this time, every last woman had been driven from the house -- some by betrayal, most by neglect." In their place, the boy helps the grandfather with chores and onerous tasks like clipping the old man's toenails.
The grandfather does suggest that he perhaps hire a local waitress to help around the house, but he worries about the possibility of his grandson developing feelings for the woman: "He would like more than anything to protect his grandson from that kind of desolation." The grandson will not hear of hiring the woman, and the reader soon learns why -- he's already involved with her. So much for the lack of women accounting for the loneliness.
"Coalinga 1/2 Way," is another prime example of the loneliness Shepard's characters encounter. A man on the road to Los Angeles calls his wife to tell her that he's leaving her for his mistress. The wife begs the man to reconsider and offers to meet him halfway to discuss his decision. He refuses, however, and continues on to LA, where he finds his mistress less-than-thrilled with his decision, since she's relocating to another state with her own husband. After losing both of his women in a matter of hours, the man's only utterance is, "Where am I supposed to go?" And that's it.
Some of Shepard's characters are not quite as overtly lonely. In "An Unfair Question," the lead character is seemingly happy with his life as the head of a typical family. His psychoses, after all, do not become evident until he is asked about his gun collection.
After pulling out a .410 shotgun, he recounts how he used to shoot baby starlings that would fall down his chimney. The root of his problem was depression, and his answer to his depression was alcohol. Now, when asked by his daughter, he is fine. Yet, at the same time, he interrogates a woman at gunpoint about her "real" background and asks what she was "very, very unhappy about." Her answer: "I never could quite put my finger on it." Again, it's all in the one-line statements.
Anyone who ever finds himself or herself daydreaming on the job would sympathize to some extent with the narrator of "The Company's Interest." Working as the graveyard clerk at a gas station, the woman imagines the characteristics of a person who would drive off without paying. She spots two frightening men who she figures will drive off and, consequently, get her in trouble. Shocked when they come into the store, she immediately imagines that she is getting robbed. She worries about her mother being alone -- "Who's gonna take care of her when I'm gone" -- but most of all, she is distraught about dying alone: "There's nobody. I'm the only one left. I don't know how it ever got like this."
After all of this, one could assume that the collection's title story plays on this theme of loneliness. Two elderly widowers live together, title each other "partner," and are each other's sole companion in life. Sherman and Dean, two of the only characters Shepard graces with names, live each day to eat patty melts at Denny's served by Faye.
One day, their "heavenly" life goes awry when Sherman discovers that Dean has been seeing Faye behind his back. Sherman feels so betrayed that he walks out of the house with all of his belongings in a duffel bag and never looks back. "It wasn't my idea, it was hers!!" is the only response his partner can muster.
Although most of the stories are written in a traditional prose style, Shepard also dons his playwright's hat and writes a few, like "Betty's Cats" in a more dramatic way. This particular story is just dialogue between two characters. Betty owns several cats, and the health department demands that she give the animals up. Another character tries to convince the obviously senile woman, but her devotion to the cats is too strong. "So what in the world are we going to do, Betty?" "Nothing. There's nothing to do." Betty would prefer to lose her lopsided trailer than give up her devoted companions.
Though Shepard is mainly renowned for his skill as a playwright, his short stories are not to be overlooked. Even if often overly laden with emotion, Shepard's stories are well worth a read. His main flaw (if that is even the best word for it) is that he focuses so much on solidarity, loneliness and the search for companionship. By the end, the reader thirsts for a resolution, preferably a happy one.
Oddly enough considering his background, the stories in which Shepard experiments with non-traditional story styles -- stories that more resemble plays -- are a bit weaker and less captivating than the others. It's within the narration that Shepard makes his impression on the reader, and the dialogue by itself just can't bring the story home. After all, if these are stories of loneliness, doesn't the single voice of a narrator work better?