The Woman Who Married a Cloud: The Collected Short Stories of Jonathan Carroll
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Described by Michael Dirda in The Washington Post as 'sexy, eery and addictive', the fiction of Jonathan Carroll occurs at the point where the ordinary becomes extraordinary, the commonplace becomes unsettling, and yet where we nonetheless always recognize the stories being told because they are always about ourselves and what happens in our deepest, sometimes darkest hearts.
Always better known as a novelist--readers first experienced Carroll s elegant, eloquent, wondrous, terrible and often surreal fiction in his classic debut The Land of Laughs, which he followed with Bones of the Moon, Sleeping in Flame, A Child Across the Sky, and others--Carroll has also created a compelling and deeply moving body of short fiction. Perhaps more eclectic and slant-wise than some of his novels, stories like World Fantasy Award winning 'Friend's Best Man' and Pushcart Prize and Grand Prix de l'Imaginaire honouree 'Home on the Rain' stand amongst his very best work.
The Woman Who Married a Cloud: Collected Stories is the best and most complete collection of Jonathan Carroll's fiction ever published. It collects 38 stories written across a thirty year long career, a number appearing here in print for the first time, in a single landmark volume that stands as the perfect introduction to this unique and wonderful writer.
sixty-two. Most societies teach us we’re all individuals, if only biologically. For better or worse, there’s no one else like us on the face of the earth.” “Or ever has been!” Clinton said, shaking his head. “Right, or ever has been. But here’s the truth, Ingram, and it’s why our palms are the same. There are only so many numbers. Let’s say a thousand, for convenience sake. “God makes different people, sure, but each of them has a certain number. For as long as man’s been on earth, these
money from the machine.” He raised his beer mug to her, a toast. “You don’t mind me borrowing the name, do you? I will worship you for the rest of the week.” His glance dropped to the table, dismissing her, but he did look sort of transformed. “Elizabeth Thug. That’s exactly it.” There was nothing else for her to say or do but return to her sister who’d watched the whole thing from the bar. What could she tell her? What had just happened? Walking back, she looked down at her right hand and saw
she was a guest professor in Moscow. She’s a metallurgist, but also an alchemist. Do you know what they do?” Beatrice snorted her derision “I know what they’re supposed to be able to do—turn dross into gold.” He rubbed his neck and nodded “ ‘Dross’ I like that word; it’s very medieval. But yes you’re right—that’s what they do.” “But there’s no such thing, Mills, and don’t pretend there is. I know nothing about it, but I do know alchemy is more myth than anything else. People have always tried
me see that brochure again.” “But you have an original, Michael. It still holds its value.” “That’s not the point! It’s not the value that matters. I’d never sell this. “You know the classic ‘bathtub’ Porsche? One of the strangest, greatest-looking cars of all time. Some smart, cynical person realized that and is now making fibreglass copies of the thing. They’re very well done and full of all the latest features. “But it’s a lie car, Juliet; sniff it and it smells only of today—little
a kid getting a haircut. A very pretty young woman sat behind a transparent desk reading a copy of Princess Daisy. She looked up and smiled. “Hi, Leslie.” “Hi, Sally. Sally, this is Paul Domenica. He just arrived.” They smiled at each other and, to break the ice, Paul said something about how much his girlfriend had liked the book. “Oh, it’s a hot-fudge sundae. Paul, I can’t stop reading.” “You’d better not let your boss catch you.” “Oh, Leslie, he’s the one who gave it to me!” All of them