The most celebrated story collection from “one of the true American masters” (The New York Review of Books)—a haunting meditation on love, loss, and companionship, and finding one’s way through the dark that includes the iconic and much-referenced title story featured in the Academy Award-winning film Birdman. "Raymond Carver's America is ... clouded by pain and the loss of dreams, but it is not as fragile as it looks. It is a place of survivors and a place of stories.... [Carver] has done what many of the most gifted writers fail to do: He has invented a country of his own, like no other except that very world, as Wordsworth said, which is the world to all of us." —The New York Times Book Review
A remarkable concept known as "entanglement" in quantum physics requires an incredibly bizarre link between subatomic particles. When one such particle is observed, quantum entanglement demands the rest of them to be affected instantaneously, even if they are universes apart. Einstein called this "spooky actions at a distance," and argued that such bizarre predictions of quantum theory show that it is an incomplete theory of nature. In 1964, however, John Bell proposed a theorem which seemed to prove that such spooky actions at a distance are inevitable for any physical theory, not just quantum theory. Since then many experiments have confirmed these long-distance correlations. But now, in this groundbreaking collection of papers, the author exposes a fatal flaw in the logic and mathematics of Bell's theorem, thus undermining its main conclusion, and proves that---as suspected by Einstein all along---there are no spooky actions at a distance in nature. The observed long-distance correlations among subatomic particles are dictated by a garden-variety "common cause," encoded within the topological structure of our ordinary physical space itself.
Bobbing alongside Margery Kempe—an illiterate medieval mystic who dictated the first autobiography in English—the ragged voice of Cry Baby Mystic finds itself drawn into strange predicaments that are not its own and ferried into abandoned spaces by the gearing of stardom and shame. The revolving sentences overheard by the reader--a muffled chorus of Brechtian aftershocks--survive only as traces of sorrow now craved by all who have known it: sound gossiping the unsound, the excess of the pilgrim. A person climbs out and never comes home.