He got up and sat on the edge of the bedstead with his back to the window. “It’s better not to sleep at all,” he decided. There was a cold damp draught from the window, however; without getting up he drew the blanket over him and wrapped himself in it. He was not thinking of anything and did not want to think. But one image rose after another, incoherent scraps of thought without beginning or end passed through his mind. He sank into drowsiness. Perhaps the cold, or the dampness, or the dark, or the wind that howled under the window and tossed the trees roused a sort of persistent craving for the fantastic. He kept dwelling on images of flowers, he fancied a charming flower garden, a bright, warm, almost hot day, a holiday—Trinity day. A fine, sumptuous country cottage in the English taste overgrown with fragrant flowers, with flower beds going round the house; the porch, wreathed in climbers, was surrounded with beds of roses. A light, cool staircase, carpeted with rich rugs, was decorated with rare plants in china pots. He noticed particularly in the windows nosegays of tender, white, heavily fragrant narcissus bending over their bright, green, thick long stalks. He was reluctant to move away from them, but he went up the stairs and came into a large, high drawing-room and again everywhere—at the windows, the doors on to the balcony, and on the balcony itself—were flowers. The floors were strewn with freshly-cut fragrant hay, the windows were open, a fresh, cool, light air came into the room. The birds were chirruping under the window, and in the middle of the room, on a table covered with a white satin shroud, stood a coffin. The coffin was covered with white silk and edged with a thick white frill; wreaths of flowers surrounded it on all sides. Among the flowers lay a girl in a white muslin dress, with her arms crossed and pressed on her bosom, as though carved out of marble. But her loose fair hair was wet; there was a wreath of roses on her head. The stern and already rigid profile of her face looked as though chiselled of marble too, and the smile on her pale lips was full of an immense unchildish misery and sorrowful appeal. Svidrigaïlov knew that girl; there was no holy image, no burning candle beside the coffin; no sound of prayers: the girl had drowned herself. She was only fourteen, but her heart was broken. And she had destroyed herself, crushed by an insult that had appalled and amazed that childish soul, had smirched that angel purity with unmerited disgrace and torn from her a last scream of despair, unheeded and brutally disregarded, on a dark night in the cold and wet while the wind howled
The Blog
Short Story Collections in 2010 
Happy 2010, everyone. And get ready for a new spate of short fiction. We got some doozies forthcoming. Here are ten upcoming short story collections I’m looking forward to this year. Sam Shepard, Day out of Days (January) Amy Bloom, Where the God of Love Hangs Out (January) Stories linked by the motif of love. […]
Read More Merry Christmas Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone. BookFox will be taking a break for a few weeks. Looking back over this year in reading, I discovered I read about 60 books — half short story collections and half novels, with a couple of nonfiction books thrown in. This is right about average for my reading […]
Read More Best Short Story Collections of the Decade So here are my picks for best short prescription medication online no prescription story collections of the decade. If you want another take, check out the A.V. Club’s choices — we got a few in common, but a whole lot of differences. If you think I missed one, you’re wrong. Probably. But if you insist […]
Read More Best Short Story Collection 2009 — Guest Post by Larry Dark “The Size of the World” by Joan Silber (Norton) In 2004, Joan Silber published a book of stories, “Ideas of Heaven,” that introduced a new way of structuring a collection. A character or other element in one story, would take center stage in the next, with the last story connecting back to the first, completing […]
Read More Best Short Story Collection 2009 — Guest Post by Dan Wickett Each year I do my best to read the two short story collections that the University of Georgia Press publish as winners of the Flannery O’Connor Award for Short Fiction. This year, one of the two books, “The Bigness of the World” by Lori Ostlund, has deservedly been seeing some attention. So, I’m going to […]
Read More Best Short Story Collection 2009 — Guest Post by Travis Kurowski What the World Will Look Like When the Water Leaves Us Laura van den Berg Dzanc Books, 2009 Every six months or so I interview a short story writer I like for Luna Park, a writer who has a new collection of stories coming out and whose stuff I had seen awhile in literary magazines […]
Read More Best Books of 2009 During the next week, I’m going to be posting some recommendations for the best short story collections of 2009, as recommended by various experts (and I do mean experts — got some knowledgeable peeps ready to hold forth). Until that point, however, I refer you to some of the best-of lists cropping up about town. […]
Read More Tod Goldberg Interview on “Other Resort Cities” Tod Goldberg writes short stories (Simplify) and novels (Living Dead Girl), in addition to just being a hilarious guy (see: blog). He’s also the Director of the MFA program at UC Riverside Palm Desert. BookFox had the opportunity to interview him by email for the release of his latest collection, “Other Resort Cities.” BookFox: So […]
Read More Joan Didion and the Avoidance of Cliche The Morning News has a great memoir piece, a very new journalism/memoir style called "Joan Didion Crosses the Street." Out of a simple chance encounter with Joan Didion on a public street V.L. Hartmann reconstructs the significance of Joan Didion to her own childhood and her parents generation: When I was a teenager my mother […]
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