This morning, Writer’s Almanac reminded me that, had he not died in 1992, today would be Richard Yates’ 79th birthday. Until recently, Yates was the great unsung voice of postwar American literature; for years, I was the only person I knew who’d read him, and I only did because he was the guest writer one semester when I was at Alabama.
Dick’s work is strong, though, and on the strength of that — and some advocacy from modern-day literary heavyweights like Michael Chabon, Richard Ford, and others — his collected stories were published to great acclaim (Salon review) and success in 2001. He’d like that, but not for reasons of filthy lucre. As he told Andre Dubus once, all he really wanted was readers. At least now he’s got some.
Here’s a few bits about Dick worth reading, even if you’ve never been exposed to his work.
Want more? Some of his books are in print again.