The Bascombe Novels: Written and Introduced by Richard Ford (Everyman's Library Contemporary Classics Series)

Very early on The Sportswriter, Ford's alter ego Bascombe tells readers about his failed attempt to write a novel that started by telling that a guy had trouble staying publicly sober. THAT was a very good beginning and extremely ironic since I had trouble staying awake during this appalling collection of depth-challenged descriptions and assaults on grammar all wrapped in one big burrito of a novel that has successfully passed itself as serious literature. I purchased the Everyman's edition through Amazon, intent on reading the whole trilogy, believing it would be a good, solid example of tough American literature. In a week when I tackled from Brockden Brown's "Wieland" to the Spanish Baroque play La Serrana de la Vera, to the Oxford's edition of Shelley's work and found all three of them exceptionally good in their own peculiar way, I was ready for some contemporary American Literature. I had both the Rabbit Armstrong's novels in one volume (Everyman's again) and Ford's. I chose Ford. Ouch.How to go about the death of a child? How to mourn for a child? I don't know. I don't want to know. But Ford's characters (X and Bascombe), who are just that and don't sound at all like real people, are two very odd birds to go about mourning the way they do. "Unconvincing" would be the term I'd use to describe the very bad first chapter, and readers will only get more of the same in the following chapters. Nothing rings true in this book. By chapter 2, Bascombe claims that Americans "put too much emphasis on their past as a way of defining themselves." Either Bascombe has never met Europeans or Latin Americans or Ford is trying to tell us that his character is unreliable. I'd like to believe the second option (as when Bascombe mentions a used-car salesman analogy to attempt to describe the frankness in his voice. Is he stupid or just doesn't get it?) because Ford gives enough clues as to the fatuousness of Bascombe who attempts to write about a place in which he's never been (Tangier) simply because he assumes that place is like Mexico (and as if a huge country like Mexico could be reduced so simply and conveniently); who cannot mention his ex-wife's name, so he calls her X; who cheated on her and still thinks of himself as honest. The guy is truly clueless. As I read, I relished the possibilities of such and untrustworthy narrator. As it has happened a lot lately, however, my hopes were dashed: this time the author simply didn't have what it takes to make a novel like this one (character-driven, heavily-dependent on the author's talents to pull the readers in through the strength of the prose) shine. Ford has a love affair with sentence-ending prepositions, so much so that it hurt to read after page 40 of my multi-volume edition. He got an MFA in Creative Writing from my Alma Mater and I shudder to think that "this" is what American Universities writing programs have been churning out for decades: prize-winning tomes praised to sickness by critics where the author can't tell a story in an interesting manner, has no style of his own except for a general contempt towards good grammar, and wallows in boredom like a hypochondriac wallows in despair.And yet there were rays of hope, as in the fictions-within-a-fiction that are Bascombe's failed attempts at writing two novels: those showed real promise as simple plot-driven vehicles; or Bascombe's denseness and apathy that he believes are "dreaminess" and optimism; and his unreliability as a narrator, something at which Ford hints but that he leaves for later novels, maybe. Those rays of hope are not enough, however. The jacket sleeve promised that Bascombe's "unguarded voice instantly wins us over." Not true. The character repels and I never felt that Bascombe was a real person. On top of that, Ford's writing doesn't feel natural. People don't talk the way Bascombe, X, and Vicky express themselves on paper: what they do never rises to the level of real talk.I seriously doubt that I will even try to brave the nearly one-thousand pages left in my edition of the three Bascombe novels. Ford/Bascombe puts it better than expected in a rare example of incisiveness and unheeded advice: "I had written all I was going to write... and there is nothing wrong with that. If more writers knew that, the world would be saved a lot of bad books..." Really good advice and terrible syntax. Ford should have followed his own/Bascombe's advice; he chose the syntax: note the word 'that' repeated twice in two sentences so close together.

This is an amazing body of work over a long time. I really enjoyed "Canada" when it was first punblished and have only come to the Bascombe novels after reading a good review of the latest (4th in the trilogy!) "Let me be Frank with you". He is an extraordinary writer and continues my lifelong love affair with American writers BUT, and it is an annoying BUT. I get sick of US audiences saying they do not understand Australian writers/idiom, when books like this are redolent with deep American idiom that we can never be part of. I get it that the idiom is part of the charm but I do not know most of the brands of clothes, supermarkets, foods, football/baseball teams that Ford just tosses off in the mouth of the charming Frank and so there is, somewhere, every 2 - 4 pages where I find myself wondering "what is that", and my Kindle cannot help because they are proprietary names and not in dictionaries! Otherwise good reads.

I heard Mr. Ford interviewed on National Public Radio one day and was so intrigued by his amazing humility and insight on human behavior that I decided to order a few of his books. This volume contains the 3 novels for which he won the Pulitzer Prize, but I also read his Between Them, his most recent novel. Few authors are able to describe on paper the workings of the American mind with such creative expression. A little tedious going for those who are not keen for descriptive narratives, but he is among the best modern writers whose work I've had the pleasure of reading. Each page seems to have an intimate peek into some aspect of the human psyche. Very talented, honest writer.

I bought these 3 novels combined into one volume in order to have an opportunity to re-read them all before starting the last one in the serie " let me be Frank with you". I did not expect any bad surprises and, indeed, enjoyed them once again, even more so after watching an interview of Richard Ford on the BBC where he explains, among many other things, his profound dyslexia. It helped me better understand and enjoy his peculiar style made of simple, but very structured and precise sentences, often expressing a surprising or troubling point of view. I can only but recommend, for these of you who did not read Richard Ford yet, to buy the trilogy and enjoy it slowly as a very profound yet very fluid analysis of the period it covers in american history.I am pretty certain you will also buy the No. 4.

Brilliant depiction of a complex character portrayed in phenomenally compassionate and concise prose. Frank Bascombe takes you through the death of his young son which was a catalyst in the demise of his marriage. When his literary career stumbles, Frank opts for sports writing and then real estate. Through his interactions with his ex-wife he negotiates a larger role with his children. The centerpiece of Independence Day is Frank's attempt to reconcile with his son, Paul, who is exhibiting anti-social behavior. Their experience at the Baseball Hall of Fame is transcendent. Having read much of Updike and Cheever, I must say that Richard Ford is a greatly under-appreciated writer.

The Bascomb Trilogy is one of the finest pieces of modern fiction I have ever read. As a former literature teacher, I am astounded that I had never previously encountered Richard Ford, though I was quite familiar with John Updike and John Cheever--both of whom produced works covering similar themes. Richard Ford's style is both deeply ironic, yet consistently amusing with a detached, urbane sensibility that reminds me of the best passages from Eveyln Waugh or E.M. Forster. A great writer--possibly unsurpassed by another other contemporary writing in America at this time.

Muy buenas novelas, dignas representantes de la literatura americana. Muy cercano al estilo de Carver. No es de grandes emociones pero si engancha la trama

Me está costando dios y ayuda leerlo. Me gustó mucho Canadá y pensé que sería del estilo. Da muchas vueltas a lo mismo. Poco aconsejable para lectores y lectoras que buscan literatura más dinámica. Recomiendo muchísimo Canadá. Una obra de arte.

I loved this book - not with a passionate love but with a quieter kind of love, even addiction. The kind that creeps up on you.I ordered it and then happened upon a radio interview of Richard Ford after which I thought he is a rude, annoying man. And similarly, when I started reading, I found Frank Bascombe hard to like, a bit lukewarm, a bit pretentious, not such a great character all in all. But this, combined with the real time narration, is I think what makes him so real. So real in fact that going back to the book felt like sitting down to hear a real person talk about their life, their pain, their hopes, in a way that touched me and felt very personal. And it shouldn't cause I have pretty much nothing in common with Frank Bascombe but that's the genius of Ford, it's his humanity that creates that connection.I read the first two books of the trilogy in one go and then decided to put it aside and read something else. I had to make some space between us, myself and this weird friend of mine. I had not felt like that reading a book since my high-emotion, impressionable teens, so that probably says something.So when I started the Lay of the land I felt I had to stop and write this review. Such was the force with which I was drawn back in and the reality of my happiness at meeting my friend again took me by surprise.So, to close this, I think one would either love or absolutely hate this. Because if this magic that Ford does here fails to work for you, you probably won't manage past page 100. But if it does, you will have a friend to go back to and sit down with a cup of coffee every time you pick up the book.

Sportswriter Frank Bascombe, once an aspiring novelist, splits from his wife after the death of his nine-year-old son, Ralph. This remarkable trilogy chronicles his life after these pivotal events as he attempts to re-establish a sense of direction, and come to terms with the bereavement. All the books in this collection contain beautifully observed human drama, in the style of John Updike’s Rabbit novels. Ford writes in the first person, with a wryly humorous/blackly comic tone. The novels are also philosophical, charting Frank’s evolving outlook on life, from a ‘dreamy’, disengaged state after his son’s death, to the ‘permanent period’, a kind of spiritual acceptance of the misfortunes life has thrown at him, and a refusal to dwell on the past. The novels also reflect on contemporary political events, and American history, again echoing Updike. An extraordinary achievement. This book collects all three novels together - though there’s a final title, Let Me Be Frank, published separately.

A wonderful trilogy of, in my view, the Everyman. Frank Bascombe’s life follows the everyday trials and tribulations of us all but written with such ferocious detail it’s awe-inspiring. Within the Trilogy the three books are easily ‘stand alone’ whilst read together there’s minimal repetition - just enough of a reminder so you don’t lose the thread. I regret buying this trilogy as one ‘tome’ as the print is minute and my eyesight poor. Additionally, heaving this book around is no mean feat. However, I’d strongly recommend The Bascombe Novels if you enjoy American lit as much as I do but please buy them separately or use your kindle!