civilizations elsewhere (in Rome,nFrance, England) there was “a continuousnsuccession of manners, whichnapply not only to the fine arts but,nperhaps, more essentially, to the arts ofnliving.” These arts of living, what criticsnsince have called manners andnmorals, gave Bishop and the writers ofnhis generation in the South a valuablenlode to mine and countermine. That isnespecially true of the novelists andnshort story writers who have writtennabout the South since the late 20’s —nfrom Wolfe, Faulkner, Katherine AnnenPorter, Caroline Gordon, and Bishopnhimself to Andrew Lytle, Robert PennnWarren, and James Agee to WilliamnStyron, George Garrett, ElizabethnSpencer, Glyde Edgerton, and JillnMcCorkle.nThe writers whom we are consideringnhere come from the generationnborn in the teens and 20’s. GharlesnEdward Eaton, who was born in 1916,nis the oldest of them; Nancy HuddlestonnPacker, the youngest. Each of thenthree has written regularly in morenthan one mode: Eaton as a poet,nWilliam Hoffman as a novelist. Packernas a memoirist. All have had academicnappointments and longtime academicnconnections, but only Packer hasntaught full-time for most of her career.nAnd she, a native of Alabama, is thenonly one to have lived outside thenSouth most of her mature life. Hoffman,nwho has published the mostnstories over the past decade, is the mostnaccomplished short story writer of thenthree. His stories have appeared notnonly in leading quarterlies but in suchnmagazines as the Atlantic. His tennnovels have been published by Dou-nBOOKS ON CASSETTESn”*^The Conservative Classicsn”•§ Unabridged Recordingsn•«§ Purchase & 30 Day Rentalsn•^ Books by Buckley,nGilder, Sowell, Muggeridge,nPaul Johnson, Friedman,nHayek, Tocqueville, Kirk,nMises, Podhoretz, Kistol,nNeuhaus, Rusher, Twain,n& scores of others.nCLASSICS ON TAPEnP.O. Box 969, Ashland, OR 97520n•*^ For Free Catalog, CallnRUSSELL KIRKnThenConservatiwnMindnFrom Hiii’kn to EliotnSeentli RevJHed Editionn1 (800) 729-2665n44/CHRONlCLESnbleday and Viking and by the LSUnPress, the publisher of By Land, BynSea and of Furors Die, a novel to benreleased this spring. Although Hoffmannis a good novelist, the short storynis his natural form. After regulariynpublishing short fiction for over twenty-fivenyears, he is finally getting appropriatenattention and lately has wonnprizes for his fiction from the VirginianQuarterly Review and Shenandoah.nBy Land, By Sea, Hoffman’s secondnbook of stories, is not quite so fine asnhis first, Virginia Reels (1978), but isnnevertheless one of the best collectionsnof short fiction under single authorshipnto derive from the South in the pastnfive years. Hoffman’s short fiction embodiesna freshness of style, variety ofncharacter, range of effect — from pathosnto humor to tragic intensity — thatnhave seldom been rivaled in the Southnduring his career.nThe best of the dozen stories presentednin By Land, By Sea are “Landfall,”n”Smoke,” “Faces at the Window,”n”Moorings,” “Indian Gift,” andn”Altarpiece.” Hoffman characteristicallynshows us his leading characters asnthey are caught in the vise of fate, andnas the jaws of that vise slowly close, wensee what those people are made of andnhow they confront the manifold pressuresnof their destinies. In “Landfall”nan aging alcoholic decides to make onenfinal run in his sloop, and as he and hisnwife sail into the raging seas of thenNorth Adantic, he looks Death squarelynin the eye. In “Smoke” another frailnalcoholic, who has lately been releasednfrom the penitentiary, faces down twonarmed younger men. In “Faces at thenWindow” a divorcee tries to rebuildnher confidence in love and in the malensex. In “Indian Gift” a hardworkingnman is brought down by a momentarynact of greed and ill-judgment. Inn”Moorings” another hardworking mannis undone by a fit of unreasonablenbehavior. And in “Altarpiece” a lonelynwidower tries to come to terms with hisngrief while helping a woman who isnlong on pride and pluck and short onnmoney and luck.nAll of these stories reveal WilliamnHoffman at his best. The earmark ofnthis fiction is its author’s exact use ofnthe Southern idiom, especially the spokennlanguage. Hoffman has a marvelousnear for colloquial speech, high andnlow.nnnIf Hoffinan’s beat is Virginia andnWest Virginia from the coal-miningncountry of the mountains to the Tidewaternand indeed to the GhesapeakenBay, Gharles Edward Eaton is chieflynengaged by the world of embassies innLatin America and by the equallynrarified world of the academy. But he isnalso interested in Gheever and Updikencountry — New England society, especiallynthe suburbs of Connecticut. Mr.nEaton writes in the tradition of HenrynJames, and the Southern writer of anneadier generation whose fiction hisnmost resembles is Allen Tate, althoughnTate’s scene was the South. Tate alsonwas interested in manners and moralsnand wrote his stories and his novel as anpoet, with more in the way of descriptionnand reflection than action realizednthrough scene. Mr. Eaton writes verynwell indeed, but sometimes his descriptionsnare too lavish and his dialogue toonmannered.nThe stories presented here derivenfrom three previous collections publishednbetween 1959 and 1978, with annew selection presented for the pastndecade. Some readers will find that thencharacters and situations tend to be toonmuch alike, but complexity and subtletynabound within this relatively narrownround of experience. The stories proceednby indirection — allusion, metaphor,nirony. The characters are superblynconscious and self-conscious —nactors on the stage of the self Thensituations are, as James would phrase itnin speaking of the form of these storiesn(what he calls the anecdote), small andnsmooth and detached; the authornmakes them brisfle with possibility,nsometimes overemphasizing that possibility.n”One Man’s Poison” by NancynPacker might well have been written bynGharles Edward Eaton, whose charactersnoften consume large quantities ofnalcohol. When we first meet GarternFrame, he says: “If I’m not a drunk,nthe world isn’t round, Birminghamnisn’t the Pittsburgh of the South, theirngrandfathers didn’t own a thousandnslaves, nothing they believe is true.nEven Lucy. . . . We were almost marriednonce.” Lucy, our narrator, findsnthat Garter has reformed and is nownhelping drunks rather than helpingnhimself to drinks as he did once toonoften during their engagement. Thenstory turns upon her recognition aboutn