Ann Arbor Tales — Reading Notes

The Social Stage and Its Players

The first story, “The Making of a Man,” introduces Florence as a “College Widow” in the eyes of some, but the narrator insists on a more complex view. The room’s decor—low lights, tinted shades, red tapestry—is described with care, and the narrator notes that smoking was permitted without the odor lingering. These details create a contained, almost theatrical space where Florence performs her role. The story’s opening paragraphs immediately signal that the collection will dwell on interiors and the dynamics of admiration, with the narrator speaking as part of a collective “we” who loved her. This collective voice recurs in later tales, suggesting a shared campus experience.

A Gamble with the President

In “The Case of Catherwood,” the scene shifts to a president’s office. Catherwood, a student in trouble, faces a president who speaks with “cutting precision.” The president offers a choice between two sealed envelopes—one containing a credit-slip, the other a condition. Catherwood’s hand trembles as he chooses, and after he leaves, the president opens the remaining envelope, tears the slip into flakes, and lets them fall like snow. The episode ends with the president noting the time and hurrying to luncheon. The story balances tension with a dry, almost absurd resolution, leaving the reader to wonder about the contents and the president’s motives.

A Nocturne in the Streets

“The Door—A Nocturne” opens with a pale moon and unlit street-lamps. The setting is a narrow, unpaved street lined with maples and frame houses, with lilac bushes and silver birches “ghostly in the thin light.” The description is precise and atmospheric, focusing on a three-story house with a covered porch and a spindled rail. The story’s title and opening suggest a mood piece, where the physical environment—the door, the moonlight, the shadows—will carry the narrative weight. This shift to a more impressionistic style contrasts with the earlier, dialogue-driven scenes and shows Harriman’s range in rendering place.

Recurring Motifs and Narrative Voice

Across the excerpts, certain patterns emerge. The first-person plural (“we,” “our”) appears in the opening story, creating a sense of shared memory. The president’s office scene relies on precise gestures—the envelope, the dagger, the torn slip—while the nocturne uses visual detail to build mood. The collection’s title, Ann Arbor Tales, and the catalog subjects (Short stories, American; Ann Arbor (Mich.) – Fiction) confirm the local setting, but the stories themselves vary in tone from sentimental to tense to lyrical. Readers may note how the author moves between interior spaces and external streets, and how the university setting provides a backdrop for both social rituals and individual crises.

These excerpts offer a cross-section of Harriman’s methods: the romanticized group portrait, the tense academic standoff, and the atmospheric nocturne. Each story appears to rely on a distinct narrative strategy, from collective reminiscence to tight dialogue to descriptive immersion. A first reading might attend to how the author shifts between these modes and how the recurring university setting—its rooms, offices, and streets—shapes the characters’ dilemmas. The incomplete excerpts leave the resolutions unclear, but the patterns of voice and detail provide a reliable guide to the collection’s texture.

That opening candlelit room, with Florence holding everyone's gaze—it stayed with me long after closing the book. There’s a particular ache in watching people so sure of their moment. I found myself thinking of that same quiet magnetism while reading Studies in Wives — A Closer Reading, where the interiors feel just as intimate, just as fleeting. Some writers simply understand how a room remembers its people.