Every now and then comes a book different from the others; one where my powers of absorption and concentration, or lack thereof are taxed and left sorely wanting. There is more, so much more of this story to be taken in, yet the fetters of limited comprehension, so magnified by any aging, it seems conspire to enfold us into ignorant quagmire. So it is with one of my current reading projects, a collection of stories by Howard Fast entitled Time and the Riddle: 31 Zen Stories.
I have a very basic and fundamental sense of the precepts of Zen Buddhism. Who can live today and not? That has not yet aided me in decoding the elements of these excellent short stories that give them the titled characteristics. My satori may be just around the corner, or it may be forever obscured by the junk that burdens me so thoroughly and effectively, anyone's guess at this point. I'm mentioning this because any link between the title of the volume and the stories has passed me by for the moment - perhaps the layers will peel off as I continue with the book.l
I've always felt that there should be (no doubt there are) volumes dedicated to book reviews of volumes that are not necessarily brand new. I've rarely succumbed to the tyranny of the best seller list, what the heck - if it's a good book today, it will in all liklihood be a good book tomorrow.
To joyously wallow in the possibilities put forth by The Trip, one of the stories in this volume, is to simultaneously mourn our limitations as we define them. I’ve spent very little of my reading time in the realm of possible worlds; if my early voyages in that realm had been as awe-inspiring as this I might well have been a different reader. To see Fast’s imagined state of the human mind and to ponder such a place is incredible. I share the grief of a letter writer in the tale, whose joy at the accomplishments in her community are matched by sadness at the unrealized potential of herself and the immediate peers of her generation.
All mourning aside, this story, one of, you guessed it, thirty-one is but a single pleasure in this volume of short fiction treasures.
Fast is very much a man of his generation. He was an active Communist, jailed for not being a rat. He held on to his pro-Moscow stance until Kruschev's famous speech wherein Stalin's excesses were identified and decried. This is my first reading of any of his works. When I look at a bibliography that extends from Spartacus (the publishing of which is a story in itself) to a novel about Sacco & Venzetti I am intrigued - and sure that this will not be my only visit with the man.
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