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James Fetler - Impossible appetites: nine stories

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title Impossible Appetites Nine Stories Iowa School of Letters Award for - photo 1

title:Impossible Appetites : Nine Stories Iowa School of Letters Award for Short Fiction
author:Fetler, James.
publisher:University of Iowa Press
isbn10 | asin:0877451028
print isbn13:9780877451020
ebook isbn13:9781587290626
language:English
subjectUnited States--Social life and customs--Fiction.
publication date:1980
lcc:PS3556.E473I5eb
ddc:813/.54
subject:United States--Social life and customs--Fiction.
Page i
Impossible Appetites
Page ii
The Iowa School of Letters Award for Short Fiction
Page iii
Impossible Appetites
Nine Stories
by James Fetler
University of Iowa Press
Iowa City, Iowa
1980
Page iv
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
These previously published stories appeared originally in somewhat different form:
"Impossible Appetites," Commentary (August 1978).
"The Dust of Yuri Serafimovich," Atlantic Monthly (June 1966).
"The Blum Invitation," Story (May 1967).
"Mutability and the Meat Loaf," Prairie Schooner (Spring 1967).
"The Indians Don't Need Me Any More," Literary Review (Summer 1973).
"Watchmann's Cubes" and "All Terminations Begin in the Mind" have been accepted for publication by the Paris Review and appear in this collection by permission of Fayette Hickox, managing editor of the Paris Review.
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data
Fetler, James, 1931
Impossible appetites.
(The Iowa School of Letters award for short fiction)
I. Title. II. Series: Iowa. University. School
of Letters. Iowa School of Letters award for short
fiction.
PZ4.F325Im [PS3556.E473] 813'.54 80-17200
ISBN 0-87745-101-X
ISBN 0-87745-102-8 (pbk.)
University of Iowa Press, Iowa City 52242
1980 by The University of Iowa. All rights reserved
Printed in the United States of America
Page v
FOR ANDREW FETLER AND MAXINE HAMILTON
Page vii
Contents
Impossible Appetites
1
The Dust of Yuri Serafimovich
22
The Blum Invitation
41
Mutability and the Meat Loaf
56
Wachtmann's Cubes
71
All Terminations Begin in the Mind
89
The Indians Don't Need Me Any More
105
The Afterglow of Decay
118
Kleinvogel in San Francisco
135

Page 1
Impossible Appetites
I
April 21, 1969June 14, 1969
MONDAY. We got back to her apartment after dark and I spotted the note in the mailbox but kept my mouth shut. She drew the drapes and unbuckled my belt. I was reaching for her when she turned and went into the bathroom. The tub started splashing. She said soak and unwind for a while, and went out to the kitchen. I said Julie, there's nothing to unwind.
During dinner she kept making amusing comparisons between Telegraph Avenue today and the way it was nine years ago, before the zombies and urban guerrillas set up camp. After dinner she led me to the cot, and for about twenty minutes I felt I was being worked over by somebody else. She had never been that intense or methodical, not even when we had first met. As I was falling asleep I felt grateful to her, and my gratitude angered me.
I found the note in her jacket pocket in the middle of the night and checked the number against the Berkeley directory and crawled back to bed. Struggled out of bed at 5 A.M. and got dressed without waking her up and drove back to Palo Alto, a hammering in my head.
TUESDAY. We yelled for over an hour. I hung up. She phoned back: protestations of love, accusations, interrogations, counter-accusations, remorse. She said there's nothing between her and Thad, she's just naturally worried about himyou don't live with a man for four years and then stand back and whistle as he slides down the drain. I said it
Page 2
didn't exactly sound to me like the comical fellow was sliding down the drain with his sexual double-entendres. She said Joe, you don't understand him, he happens to be gifted with levity and wit. I said well, that's fantastic, you're welcome to try four more years of that vaudeville act.
FRIDAY. I had vowed not to drive up last night, but I started to pace back and forth in the carport and suddenly I opened the door to the car and took off. Arrived close to midnight, my head full of sherry and cigarette smoke. She said Christ, take a look at yourself! I kicked off my shoes and fell asleep while she was still brushing her teeth.
Struggled out of bed at 5:30 A.M., everything in slow motion, a feeling of fog hanging over the kitchen. Coffee and a handful of vitamin Cs. She said Joe, what's the matter with you, driving up glassy-eyed in the middle of the nightyou're a grown man with kidsand that sherry, night after night, turns me off worse than anything else. I said Julie, no more booze. She said wow.
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