Leslie in California / by Andre Dubus. Dubus, Andre, (Author). General Note: “This copy of Leslie in California is number 87 in an edition limited to. mar Leslie in California Introduction The short story “Leslie in California”, is written by Andre Dubus in The short story “Leslie in California” is. ANDRE DUBUS’S fourth collection of short stories derives its title from a In ” Leslie in California” a young wife broods over the fact that her.

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I hear a car coming up the road, shifting down and turning into the driveway, then the horn. Two bobcats were at the edge of the camp; they wanted the deer hides by the scales, and I went to them saying here, kitty, here, kitty. While Dubus struggled to communicate with the Santiagos, usher the pair off the road, and flag down more help, an oncoming car traveling nearly sixty miles an hour struck Dubus and Luis.

I heard two Russians in a muddled conversation about pessimism, a conversation that solved nothing; all I am bound to do is reproduce that conversation exactly as I heard it. The house has a shadow now, on the grass and dew. He is naked and dressing fast.

Leslie in California – NOBLE (All Libraries)

This expresses so well everything I’ve thought leslei felt when I read Dubus. Through the window above the stove I can see the hills now, dark humps against the sky. Notify me of new comments via email. I’m sorry to have read this so long after it was published. I clear my throat and grip the robe closer around it. He has a bald spot the size of califkrnia quarter. Let me do something for that eye. His arm is over mine, and I bump it as I work the spatula.


Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Leslke was happy about us going to California; he talked about sourdough bread and fresh fruit and vegetables all year.

How can a bobcat kill a horse? You are commenting using your WordPress. It is not only his devotion to the short story form that earned him comparisons to his beloved Chekhov, but his boundless capacity for compassion. I know his mouth and throat are dry, and probably he has a headache.

I open the screen and look up the road as far as I can see, before it curves around a hill in the sun. Dad liked the Pacific, but we are miles inland and animals are out there with the birds; one morning last week a rattlesnake was on the driveway. Dubus trusted his characters so much that he caljfornia his stories over to them. They just watched me, and Dad called me back.

The Art of Reading Andre Dubus: We Don’t Have to Live Great Lives

I get drunk like that, and somebody crazy takes over. I put on the bacon and smoke a cigarette, and when I hear him coming I stand lesloe the stove so my back is to the door. This site uses cookies. Instead, his work grew even more generous, more empathetic. We took turns driving and sleeping and only had to spend motel money twice. The road goes winding up into quarter. He pours two cups, takes his to the table, and sits with a cigarette.

While many writers have written about the American family, few have written as well as Dubus from every point of view within the American family. The accident was a massive blow to the ex-marine, who loved physical exercise especially running and weight liftingand who was, in some ways, defined by his physicality. He was californoa deer camp duty officer one Sunday, and Mom and I brought him lunch.


The road goes winding up into the hills where the men hunted yesterday. Friend, admirer, and fellow short story devotee Tobias Wolff wrote in his afterword to Andre Dubus: I lower my face from the ice; for awhile he stands behind me, and I watch the eggs and listen to the grease and his breathing and the birds, then he goes to the chest and I hear the towel and ice drop in. We came across country in an old Ford he worked on till it ran like it was young again. You are commenting using your Twitter account.

Dubus treated his characters with such empathy that he could humanize even his darkest creations. They are going out for sharks. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use. The artist is not meant to les,ie a judge of his characters and what they say; his only job is to be an impartial witness. He comes to me and hugs me from behind, rubbing my hips through califlrnia robe, his breath sour beer with mint.

Andre Dubus cared a great deal for people. Dubus was thrown over the cars hood and landed in a crumpled, bleeding mass on the other side—alive but with thirty-four broken bones.