Raymond Carver isn’t going anywhere. This is what you say to me. “You know, Raymond Carver isn’t going anywhere,” you say, in lieu I guess of saying, “You’re driving too fast,” even though it’s my driving that you really want to comment on. It’s not because I’m concerned that Raymond Carver’s going anywhere that I’m driving too fast. I don’t think I’m driving too fast at all actually. A little over the limit but with the flow of traffic and not enough to warrant a ticket. I also don’t think Raymond Carver is going anywhere or is anywhere at all anymore, and even if he was somewhere certainly not where we’re going, which is his grave and repository for the physical remains of what was Raymond Carver but isn’t Raymond Carver anymore, though I doubt you intend to get into a metaphysical debate and merely mean to ask me to slow down.

Originally published November 11, 2016 in december, Volume 27.2.

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