[IN THE FOLLOWING ESSAY, CASE FAVORABLY REVIEWS A MULTITUDE OF SINS.]

IF IRONIC DETACHMENT AND WITTY, WINKING ALLUSIONS TO THE MORAL VACUITY OF CONSUMER CULTURE ARE AMONG THE HALLMARKS OF CONTEMPORARY FICTION, RICHARD FORD'S WRITING IS A BOLD ASTERISK ON THE CURRENT PAGE OF LITERARY HISTORY. IN HIS NEW COLLECTION OF SHORT STORIES, FORD REVISITS THE DISTINCTIVELY UNFRAGMENTED MORAL LANDSCAPE OF HIS EARLIER WORK, MOST NOTABLY THE SPORTSWRITER AND ITS SEQUEL, INDEPENDENCE DAY, FOR WHICH HE WON BOTH THE PULITZER PRIZE AND THE PEN/FAULKNER AWARD IN 1995. HE REASSERTS CLAIMS THAT IN THE HANDS OF A LESSER AUTHOR WOULD APPEAR QUAINTLY OLD-FASHIONED: THAT OUR LIVES HAVE REAL IMPORTANCE, THAT THERE IS SUCH A THING AS SIN, THAT ALL OF OUR ACTIONS, NO MATTER HOW SEEMINGLY INSIGNIFICANT, HAVE CONSEQUENCES. IT IS A TESTAMENT TO FORD'S GIFTS AS A WRITER THAT IN A MULTITUDE OF SINS THIS PREVIOUSLY WELL-TRAVELED ETHICAL TERRAIN FEELS SHOCKINGLY NEW.

THE STORIES HERE REVOLVE AROUND THE RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN MEN AND WOMEN. THERE IS NEARLY ALWAYS A MARRIAGE, THERE IS NEARLY ALWAYS AN AFFAIR. RELATIONSHIPS ARE CENTRAL TO FORD'S WRITING; HIS CHARACTERS ARE DEFINED BY THEIR RESPONSES TO ONE ANOTHER. IN THE FIRST STORY, “PRIVACY,” THE IMPORTANT EVENTS OF THE NARRATOR'S LIFE HINGE MYSTERIOUSLY ON HIS INTERACTIONS WITH A STRANGER—A WOMAN IN AN ADJACENT BUILDING WHOM HE WATCHES UNDRESS FOR SEVERAL NIGHTS IN A ROW:

THE SIGHT OF THE WOMAN—WHOM I TOOK TO BE YOUNG AND LACKING IN CAUTION OR DISCRETION—HELD ME SOMEHOW, INSULATED ME AND MADE THE WORLD STOP AND BE PERFECTLY EXPRESSIBLE AS TWO POLES CONNECTED BY MY LINE OF VISION. I AM SURE NOW THAT ALL OF THIS HAD TO DO WITH MY IMPENDING FAILURES.

THOSE FAILURES—OF MARRIAGE AND CAREER—ARE MENTIONED ONLY ONCE, INCIDENTALLY, YET BECOME THE TRUE SUBJECT OF THE STORY, MIRRORED IN THE NARRATOR'S ENCOUNTER WITH THE WOMAN. PASSING HER ON THE STREET OUTSIDE HER APARTMENT, HE RECOGNIZES HER, BUT DISCOVERS SHE IS OLD:

POSSIBLY SHE WAS 70 OR EVEN OLDER. A CHINESE, DRESSED IN THIN BLACK TROUSERS AND A THIN BLACK COAT, INSIDE OF WHICH SHE MUST HAVE BEEN AS COLD AS I WAS. … WHEN I STOPPED AND LOOKED AT HER SHE TURNED AND GAZED DOWN THE STEPS AT ME WITH AN EXPRESSION I CAN ONLY THINK NOW WAS INDIFFERENCE MINGLED WITH JUST THE SMALLEST RECOGNITION OF THREAT. SHE WAS OLD, AFTER ALL. I MIGHT SUDDENLY HAVE FELT THE URGE TO HARM HER, AND EASILY COULD'VE. SHE TURNED BACK TO THE DOOR AND SEEMED TO HURRY HER KEY INTO THE LOCK. SHE LOOKED MY WAY ONCE MORE, AS I HEARD THE BOLT SHOOT PROFOUNDLY BACK. I SAID NOTHING, DID NOT EVEN LOOK AT HER AGAIN. I DID NOT WANT HER TO THINK MY MIND CONTAINED WHAT IT DID AND ALSO WHAT IT DID NOT.

THIS MOMENT OF RECOGNITION AND NON-RECOGNITION, OF INTIMACY AND DISTANCE, IS TYPICAL OF THE INTERACTIONS IN A MULTITUDE OF SINS. FORD IS PARTICULARLY EXPERT AT EVOKING THE SECURITY OF A CONNECTION BETWEEN A MAN AND A WOMAN, JUST BEFORE LAYING BARE THE CHASM THAT SEPARATES THEM. “FAILURE,” IN FORD'S SCHEMA, IS ALMOST ALWAYS A VICTORY OF ISOLATION OVER AFFINITY. THE NARRATOR'S SUBSEQUENT FAILURES, FORD SUGGESTS, ARE ECHOES, REPETITIONS ON A LARGER SCALE OF HIS INABILITY TO CONNECT.

IN “CALLING,” ABOUT A 15-YEAR-OLD BOY AND HIS ESTRANGED FATHER, THE AUTHOR BRINGS THE MORAL CODE THAT LINKS THESE STORIES TO THE FORE. AN AUTHORITY ON AMERICAN PLACES, FORD EVOKES NEW ORLEANS, WHERE THE BOY LIVED, WITH A CINEMATOGRAPHER'S EYE: THE SEEDINESS AND SMOKE OF THE JAZZ SCENE, THE SMUG CLAUSTROPHOBIA OF THE UPPER CRUST, AND THEIR STARTLING PROXIMITY TO EACH OTHER.

A YEAR AFTER RUNNING OFF WITH ANOTHER MAN TO ST. LOUIS, THE BOY'S FATHER CALLS AND PROPOSES TO TAKE HIM DUCK HUNTING. THE EMOTIONAL TERRITORY OF THE STORY—THE SON'S PAINFUL MIXTURE OF RESENTMENT AND LONGING, THE FATHER'S REGRET MINGLED WITH AN OBVIOUS DESIRE TO ESCAPE—IS SHARPLY DRAWN. HERE AGAIN, WHAT IS MOST REMARKABLE IS FORD'S ABILITY TO TELL AN OLD STORY IN A WAY THAT MAKES IT FEEL NEW. WHAT IS FINALLY AT STAKE IN “CALLING” IS THE MEANING OF FREEDOM. “MY FATHER DID ONLY WHAT PLEASED HIM,” THE BOY REMARKS, “AND BELIEVED THAT DOING SO PERMITTED OTHERS THE EQUAL FREEDOM TO DO WHAT THEY WANTED. ONLY THAT ISN'T HOW THE WORLD WORKS, AS MY MOTHER'S LIFE AND MINE WERE LIVING PROOF. OTHER PEOPLE AFFECT YOU.”

IF FAILURE, IN FORD'S VOCABULARY, IS AN INABILITY TO CONNECT, THEN SIN, A TERM CENTRAL TO THESE 10 STORIES, IS THE WILLFUL SEVERING OR DENIAL OF AN ASSOCIATION IN THE NAME OF FREEDOM, DESIRE OR CONVENIENCE.

“CONVENIENCE MATTERS TO ME VERY MUCH. TOO MUCH, I THINK.” MY FATHER SAID. I, OF COURSE, THOUGHT OF MY MOTHER'S ASSESSMENT OF HIM—THAT HE WAS NOT BETTER THAN MOST MEN. I ASSUMED THAT CARING TOO MUCH FOR CONVENIENCE LED YOU THERE, AND THAT MY FAULT IN LATER LIFE COULD TURN OUT TO BE THE SAME ONE BECAUSE HE WAS MY FATHER. BUT I DECIDED, AT THAT MOMENT, TO SEE TO IT THAT MY FAULT IN LIFE WOULD NOT BE HIS.

THE PEOPLE IN THESE STORIES AFFECT EACH OTHER IN WAYS THAT ARE AT ONCE FAMILIAR AND STRANGE. MARRIAGE, THE RELATIONSHIP AT THE CENTER OF “PUPPY,” “UNDER THE RADAR” AND “CHARITY,” IS CHARACTERIZED BY INTENSE INTIMACY AND VAST, THREATENING DIVIDES IN BEWILDERING SUCCESSION.

IN “PUPPY,” FORD UNCOVERS THE OFTEN UNPLEASANT STRUGGLES BENEATH THE SURFACE OF LIFE'S DAILINESS WHEN AN ILL-TRAINED AND TERRIFIED PUPPY IS ABANDONED IN THE PROTAGONIST'S YARD. THE DOG BECOMES A FIGURE FOR EVERYTHING THAT IS UNWANTED AND DIFFICULT TO GET RID OF—THE HUSBAND'S SUSPICIONS THAT HIS WIFE HAS BEEN UNFAITHFUL, THE WIFE'S NAMELESS AND CONSUMING ANXIETIES. THE HUSBAND'S DESCRIPTION OF HER NIGHTMARES CONVEYS THE FORCE OF THESE EMOTIONAL LANDMINES:

SALLIE SUFFERS, AND HAS AS LONG AS I'VE KNOWN HER, FROM WHAT SHE CALLS HER WAR DREAMS—VIOLENT, CAREERING, ANTIC, DESTRUCTIVE TECHNICOLOR NIGHTMARES WITHOUT PLOTS OR COHERENT SCENARIOS, JUST SUDDEN DROP-OFFS INTO THE DEEPEST SLEEP ACCOMPANIED BY IMAGES OF DISMEMBERED BODIES FLYING AROUND AND EXPLOSIONS AND BRILLIANT FLASHES AND SOLDIERS OF UNKNOWN ARMIES BEING HURTLED THROUGH TRAP DOORS AND HANGED OR THRUST OUT THROUGH BOMB BAYS INTO EMPTY SCREAMING SPACE. THESE ARE TERRIBLE THINGS THAT I DON'T EVEN LIKE TO HEAR ABOUT AND WOULD SCARE THE WITS OUT OF ANYONE.

THE NARRATOR'S RELUCTANCE TO HEAR ABOUT THESE “TERRIBLE THINGS” IS, FORD SUGGESTS, BOTH TYPICAL AND HUMAN. AFTER ALL, WE EACH HAVE OUR OWN NIGHTMARES TO CONTEND WITH.

THE ARRIVAL OF THE DOG, AND ITS SUBSEQUENT DELIVERY TO THE POUND (WHERE, IN ALL PROBABILITY, IT WILL BE DESTROYED) REVEAL THE COUPLE'S RESISTANCE TO BECOMING INVOLVED IN THE MESSY AND UNPREDICTABLE STUFF OF ANOTHER LIFE. THE DOG “WAS, IF ANYTHING, JUST A CASUALTY OF THE LIMITS WE ALL PLACE ON OUR SYMPATHY AND OUR CAPACITY FOR THE AMBIGUOUS IN LIFE. … THOUGH WE ARE ALL, OF COURSE, IMPLICATED IN THE LIVES OF OTHERS, WHETHER WE PRECISELY KNOW HOW OR DON'T.” THE WISH TO EVADE IMPLICATION IS BOTH A SYMPTOM AND CAUSE OF THE FUNDAMENTAL LONELINESS OF MANY OF FORD'S CHARACTERS.

IT IS ALSO, IT MUST BE SAID, A WISH THAT CARRIES A STRONG MASCULINE ODOR. OURS REMAINS A CULTURE THAT ATTRIBUTES INVOLVEMENT TO THE FEMALE, INDEPENDENCE TO THE MALE. THE MEN IN A MULTITUDE OF SINS REFLECT THE PATTERN AND ARE MADE MORE REAL BY IT. WHETHER THEY CHOOSE CONNECTION OR NOT, THEY ARE ANIMATED BY THE CONFLICT BETWEEN FREEDOM AND INVOLVEMENT—A CONFLICT THAT RESONATES UNIVERSALLY, BUT WITH PARTICULAR CLARITY IN AMERICAN MEN. THE SINGLE STORY THAT FALLS SOMEWHAT FLAT IN THIS REMARKABLE COLLECTION IS “CRèCHE,” AND, UNSURPRISINGLY, IT IS THE ONLY ONE TOLD ENTIRELY FROM A WOMAN'S PERSPECTIVE.

IN “ABYSS,” THE LONG FINAL STORY, HOWARD CAMERON, A REAL ESTATE AGENT WHO HAS BEEN HAVING AN AFFAIR WITH A MARRIED COWORKER, REALIZES HE HAS SET IN MOTION A CHAIN OF EVENTS FROM WHICH HE CAN NO LONGER EXTRICATE HIMSELF. “HE WAS VERY INVOLVED IN THIS,” FORD SAYS. INVOLVEMENT IS, OF COURSE, THE KEY TERM. PERHAPS THE GREATEST OF FORD'S GIFTS AS A WRITER IS THE ABILITY TO BRING HOME THE TRUTH THAT WE ARE ALL A PART OF OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES. AS A MULTITUDE OF SINS MAKES CLEAR, IT IS BOTH OUR MISERY AND OUR SOLACE.