(Author’s Note:)  I am beginning a series oi short essays based on my response as an aging BabyBoomer to the process of reading again, from this aging perspective, books that had a profound effect on me as a teenager.  My purpose is more than a remembrance. I am seeking to discover a new perspective on these works of art to add to the original understanding I had as a young man seeking to find my way in life.  My purpose also includes encouraging my readers in this century to explore important books from previous ones. )

“The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze”

Short Stories by William Saroyan

The short story was published in 1934 and the collection was published in 1941.  I don’t remember how I came into contact with Saroyan or his books, but this one is the starting place.  The story is told by a young writer who starves to death because he cannot find or hold a job in the Depression and cannot make a living as a writer.  Much to my surprise, I identified with the compulsion of this young man to observe life as he lives it and then to report his observations in his work.  I had been doing this as long as I could remember.  Spiritually, in those years I was actively seeking to understand what the Lord had called me to do with my life.  This pursuit of mine had two strong sources.

1. My older brother, James, had felt a call to preach in the summer of 1964. His surrender to this call brought a peace to him that replaced the misery I had observed in his life to that point.
2. If James had a calling, it stood to reason that I, “James Phifer’s little brother, Steve” did too. What was that calling? I set out to discover it.

The unfortunate young writer in the story smoked cigarette after cigarette and used a portable typewriter.   I was not interested in the cigarettes but I was fascinated by his typewriter. His twin compulsions, to observe life as he lived it, and to report his observations in writing, were mine as well.  I began to realize that I might be a writer.  That story shaped my life.

Sometime in my sophomore or junior year I was called to the Counselor’s office because my grades did not reflect my intelligence. The only classes I was interested in were band and English.  I pled my case that I couldn’t be a scientist one hour and a historian the next. I was blowing smoke and the Counselor knew it and I knew that she knew it.  Suddenly she hurled this question at me. “Well Steve, what do you want to do with your life?” My answer seemed to explode from my heart.  “I want to tell somebody something!”  We were both silent for a moment, realizing that an important truth had been spoken.

You see, writing is not just something you do. A writer is someone you are.  The compulsion to observe and report is deep within the writer.  It isn’t done for money or for any other extrinsic motivation.  A writer writes because he/she has observed something and needs to tell somebody.  I owe that realization to William Saroyan and his “Daring Young Man.”

The other thing I owe to him is my series of portable typewriters.  I knew a serious writer had to know how to type, so I took typing my senior year and I was the only boy in the class.  When I went to college, I had my own portable which was just the first in a series of them I owned and used until I bought my first computer in the early 90s.  In this computer-driven age my ability to type is an essential.  Thank you, Mr. Saroyan!

The Depression

Saroyan’s short stories helped me appreciate the Great Depression (1929-WWII) that had shaped my parent’s generation.  I heard about it all the time from them.  My father was born in 1920 and the stock market crash happened in 1929; he was just 9 years old.  My mother was 6 years younger so all her childhood memories were formed in the Depression years. My father’s father was a pastor and all the stories I heard about him were set in those years. The great challenge was how “to make ends meet.”  The short stories in Saroyan’s book were about the hardships forced upon Americans in those years.  Neither of my parents finished high school because of these economic hardships.  The heartbreaking accounts in this amazing book brought me closer to them and the world that formed them.  I remember more than once asking my father what the word “depression” meant.  His only answer did not inform me but I have never forgotten it. “Son, that’s when the bottom dell out.”  While his explanation did not reveal any facts to me, it certainly expressed the pain and uncertainty of those years.

I invite you to read some of the work of William Saroyan.  His is a unique voice. Wikipedia has a thorough biography found at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Saroyan.  He won a Pulitzer Prize and an Oscar even though he wrote in a very impressionistic style.  There are two more works I enjoyed in High School that I hope to get to in this series: “My Name Is Aram,” and his wonderful novel, “The Human Comedy.”

For now, I will continue to “observe and report.”

Stephen Phifer