The ancient Greek word for character is Ethos - the basis for "ethics", the study of morality and principles relating to right and wrong conduct. Heraclitus, the famous pre-Socratic Greek philosopher, held a belief that a person's ethos is their daimon, which actually translates as "fate". Ethos Anthropos Daimon - Man's character is his fate.Heraclitus thought that man's character was his essence, and ultimately determined how an individual would experience life - he saw character as a system of beliefs, opinions, stances towards and ideas about oneself and the reality surrounding us. These were ingrained in one's nature and would shape his/hers destiny; it wasn't to be found in heavens above or hell below. Fate was to be uniform with our nature: good traits would prove to be beneficial, and flaws would be tragic.Character and destiny stand at the heart of four novellas which comprise The Palace Thief. I bought the collection on the spur of the moment, not even having heard of the author before. Simply speaking, I chose to bet my limited assets on an unknown horse - truth be told it wasn't very much, but it definitely more than paid off. I have read the stories contained within The Palace Thief and kept thinking about them since, re-reading them and looking for the author's other work. A random find proved to be a great discovery.Ethan Canin himself must have thought a lot about character and destiny; he spent years learning medicine at Harvard and in his spare time - when most medical students would do nothing else but just steal some sleep - he wrote fiction; his first collection of short stories, Emperor of the Air was published in 1988,when he was just 27 and still a student. After he earned his M.D. in 1991 he moved to California to practice medicine full-time, but continued to write; stories in The Palace Thief have been written in 1993. In 1998, Canin decided to leave medicine for good and devote all of his attention to writing,and joined the faculty of Iowa's Writers Workshop. This is not a change we see often in today's society - but I'm happy to report that Ethan Canin's sentences are as sharp as his scalpel.In the stories collected in The Palace Thief Canin writes about men, their relationships and subjects typically male: finance, baseball, professorship. Stories about all these subjects have been written before, but Canin has the skill and talent to make them his own; he doesn't resort to cliches to describe a middle aged man's psychology and doesn't resolve to maudlin sentimentality when describing his protagonist's regret about wrong choices and missed opportunities. These stories are bittersweet, filled with neither happiness or sadness; Canin takes everyday struggles and turns them into mirrors for readers to reflects on our own choices in life. Accountant, the opening story, is a perfect beginning for the volume and a great display of Canin's rigor as a writer. Not a word is wasted in its opening, which introduces the protagonist and sets the tone and theme for the rest of the story - all in one paragraph. I quote it here in its entirety:I am an accountant, that calling of exactitude and scruple, and my crime was small. I have worked diligently, and I do not mind saying that in the conscientious embrace of the ledger I have done well for myself over the years, yet now I must also say that due to a flaw in my character I have allowed one small trespass against my honor. I try to forget it. Although now I do little more than try to forget it, I find myself considering and reconsidering this flaw, and then this trespass, although in truth if I am to look at them both, this flaw is so large that it cannot properly be called a flaw but my character itself, and this trespass was devious. I have a wife and three children. My name is Abba Roth.Does such thing as a fatal flaw really exist? This was the question which began Donna Tartt's The Secret History, published just a year before The Accountant. Canin's story is considerably different, as it features an older protagonist whose crime is of an entirely different nature; Abba has more in common with Ethan Canin himself than with Tartt's Richard Papen. He's far from clueless - he's a poised and businesslike Jewish accountant, who does not laugh or stray from his chosen path of a career. Yet he cannot help but think about what he considers to be the flaw in his character, similarly to what Canin must have thought of when fighting with himself over the decision of abandoning medicine and pursuing a literary career. The opening is remarkable because it's tone is just right for Abba's character - not poetic but businesslike and formal, showing someone who plans every action in advance and spends hours analyzing every posssible outcome. Every word is carefully chosen, and there's no room for spontaneity - even Abba's wife and daughter don't escape his judgment and their successes and failures are listed as entries in a register. Abba is married with daughters and safely nested in a California suburb, making more money than most of us could ever hope to see, and by his own admission achieved success by devoting himself to his career. Still, when Abba is invited to an event organized by his childhood neighbor, Mr. Peters - owner of a successful auto-parts company - he wonders about their respective lives. When Abba went to school to study accounting, Mr. Peters started his own business; when he asked him for a start-up loan of a thousand dollars Abba refused, thinking it impractical and without benefit to himself. Contrary to his expectations Mr. Peters's business blossomed, and he now invites Abba to a fantasy baseball camp featuring former baseball heroes - a marketing event for his enterprise. Abba cannot help but be jealous of his neighbor's success and regrets not loaning the money - and getting his share of it. He accepts the invitation, sensing that Mr. Peters is about to ask him to manage his books, and enters the camp to undergo what will be a test of his character and will. Canin's play with contrasts is masterful here, as it is in all of the stories contained within this volume, and he succeeds at creating a memorable character of a person who by all accounts should have been boring and dull.The next two stories, Batorsag and Szerelem and City of Broken Hearts are both coming of age tales, though in very different ways. The former is the story of William, a young teenager who grows up in the shadow of his eccentric brother, Clive - a math prodigy, and has apparently invented a fictional language to communicate with his friends (unfortunately the surprise was lost for me as I immediately knew what it was). The story takes place in the early 70's, just after Vietnam; a turbulent period is contrasted with the queen of all sciences - mathematics, requiring precision so out of character for Clive who nonetheless manages to solve every problem put before him. Very, very good.City of Broken Hearts contrasts two different generation: Wilson Kohler, a man in his 60's tries to come with terms with his recent divorce. He's confused with the world, and lost; his son, Brent, now in his 20's, comes to visit and tries to ease his father back into life. Brent is shocked with his father's cluelessness and poor attempts at socializing; Wilson is shocked with how easily Brent approaches life. The balance of power has completely shifted, and the son takes the father's hand in this story and guides him through a late growing up.The title story is the last one, and it's the most powerful one and a perfect closure - my favorite from the volume. The Palace Thief is narrated by a Mr. Hundert (he never reveals his first name), a teacher of ancient history at Saint Benedicts, a prestigious private school for boys. Hundert has not married and devoted his whole life to Saint Benedicts, teaching his pupils the importance of great leaders from centuries before they were born, hoping to convey to them the importance of character and ideals and turn them into great leaders themselves. The story opens with Hundert being roused out of retirement by Sedgewick Bell, a former pupil who invites him to an exclusive reunion of his class after 41 years. Hundert remembers him as son of an influential and powerful senator from Virginia, and a boy who disrupted his familiar teaching routine. From all sides young Sedgewick appears to be nothing more but a troublemaker and a poor student, upsetting Hundert's classes and doing his best to strip them from almost reverent seriousness with which Hundert treats his Romans and Greeks. Hundert is upset by Sedgewick's antics but treats the boy as a challenge; he responds by questioning Sedgewick and using his lack of knowledge against him in front of the class: all other pupils know the answers to Hundert's questions easily, while Sedgewick does not. Hundert did not study the machinations of ancient emperors for naught - the tactic works brilliantly, as he not only turned Sedgewick clownish antics against himself but also made the boy study the course material as to not appear dull and stupid to his classmates. In fact, Sedgewick performs so well that Hundert, despite himself, selects him as a contestant for Saint Benedict's annual tournament: Mr. Julius Caesar, which he organizes and where the three best students answer his questions about ancient history. The winner is receives the title of the great emperor himself. This tournament will prove to be Hundert's greatest challenge, one which will force him to consider his own ideals and character, changing his life forever. Although Hundert introduces the story as one "without surprises", this is hardly true - The Palace Thief is really a wonderful story of a teacher's relationship with his students, of morality, standards, convictions, privileges and politics with surprising twists in-between. Truly terrific stuff - I loved it and have read it again since.The Palace Thief is not full of literary experimentation and post-modern fireworks. These stories are classy and stylish, casual old-fashioned storytelling with moments of epiphany reminiscent of the great masters, such as Cheever or Carver. I was reminded of Fitzgerald's great stories from the jazz age but more subdued and quiet, such as Bernice Bobs Her Hair or The Ice Palace where a single scene changes everything in the lives of the protagonists. Canin's imagery is lingering and the stories themselves have great cinematic potential - particularly The Palace Thief, which has moments of real pathos - so it's no surprise that two of them were adapted to the screen: Batorsag and Szerelem as Beautiful Ohio and The Palace Thief as The Emperor's Club. Because of my admiration for The Palace ThiefThe Emperor's Club and found it to be quite good (Kevin Kline turns in a good performance as Mr. Hundert) but the source material remains superior. I have read the title story of this collection again and will revisit the others as well, and urge everyone who has yet to read them to not wait and dive in - they are all certainly worth your time and I hope that they will too leave their mark on you as they did on me.
I didn't like this collection nearly as much as the other I read, although Batorsag and Szerelem might be the best story of either book.I find with this book more than the other that Canin was still working his way around a story. I'll admit that some of the tendencies are still there, and he probably still writes in much the same way, but the sheer volume of exposition in these stories was staggering. I'm okay with exposition in doses, or in a stylistic approach, but it was the fact that Canin would start a story and introduce an idea, like some event that was about to unfold, or that would be mentioned, then he would retreat from that and go into exposition - not just any, pages and pages, sometimes twenty or thirty - and then get back to the story. It's this tendency coupled with what I feel is a weak voice that ultimately stops Canin from achieving something great. He has the talent for writing, but his voice falls flat. Every story no matter the theme or elements comes across as very dry and very clinical, which I suppose makes sense, him being a doctor and all, but it doesn't make for fantastic writing. I want to feel what the characters are and what they are saying and how they feel, but it just isn't there. Some of his characters, like the father in City of Broken Hearts, are actually pretty amusing and charismatic, but this only is in the dialogue. The story itself seems to float in some dreary delirium and the fathers voice is the only place to find his personality.I enjoyed reading it, but after awhile it wore on me. I could only read so much exposition and so much of the dull voice. His other book was better, so perhaps he was still finding his authorial voice with this one, I'll have to read some more - and don't get me wrong, this was good enough to read, it just didn't blow me out of the water.
Do You like book The Palace Thief (2006)?
Generally, I am not a fan of short stories but this volume really captured my attention.There are four "longer" short stories that describe critical moments in life when peoples' lives take a critical and surprising turn. In "The Accountant", a fellow who follows the rules all his life, steals a piece of sports memorabilia in a quick minute decision; In "Batorsky and Szeralem", a genius type boy reveals himself as a homosexual; IN "City of Broken Hearts", a son introduces his father to the woman who will comfort him when the son no longer comes home from summer vacation; In "The Palace Thief", a classics professor at an elite boys school meets the son of a powerful senator-a chance happening that years later leads to a reunion where the lie they had created in school continues to affect both their lives.The writing is excellent.
—Paula Dembeck
Short stories are generally not my favorite. Raymond Carver aside, I usually avoid them. This book, however, had me captivated. Canin writes just four stories here, and while they run the risk of being overlong, he wraps them up at just the right moment. If you only have time for one, read the first, "The Accountant." The narrator is delightfully neurotic. One of the story's themes, crudely put, is "Keeping up with the Joneses." In other words, the narrator incessantly compares his success in life with that of his childhood friend, who, although generally lacking formal education, builds a lucrative car mechanic business. The friend makes millions and enjoys an easy-going lifestyle. The accountant, in the meantime, slaves away at work to make partner and raises a family with a robotic heart, listing off his wife and daughter's successes and failures as though they were entries in a ledger. Very clever, see. The conflict between the accountant and the old friend takes an interesting turn involving an adult's recreational baseball camp where a business proposition is put forward. Canin should probably stick with short stories. I tried one of his longer novels, America, America, and became ill with the laziness of page after page of pointless descriptions and bad dialogue. He wrote The Palace Thief while a resident at UCSF, and there must have been something about the frenzied life style that sparked some artistic energy.
—John
I absolutely loved America, America and so had to pick this up when I found it. It's a nice read, with much to consider, and realistic characters and plots. Realistic plots, for the most part, that is. There was one I had a little trouble buying, since it seemed to pull in the "shock value" technique that threw the story and made me rather unsympathetic to the character, which then made the end less important.My favorite line: "It is a largely unexplored element of history, of course, and one that has long fascinated me, that a great deal of political power and thus a great deal of the arc of nations arises not from intellectual advancements nor social imperatives but from the simple battle of wills among men at tables..." from The Palace Thief
—LK Hunsaker
