Author Sam Savage found literary success late in life.
Readers seldom know when they’re consuming the final published words an author wrote. But An Orphanage of Dreams — a slim volume of short stories penned by Madison author Sam Savage — is, as the Minneapolis-based publisher Coffee House Press puts it, “his final collection.” Savage is currently in hospice, and that fact makes nearly every one of these 18 pieces resonate a little deeper.
Did Savage, 78, know the end was nigh when he wrote “Rita”? The wistful story portrays a man who can’t stop thinking about a lost love and wondering if he and the titular character unknowingly crossed paths in the grocery store: “Maybe she knew all along
that it was him in front of her, and still she didn’t say anything, because the pain is alive for her, too.” As he finished “My Writing Life: A Confession in Fable,” a longer piece about an old man who can’t seem to stop “laying down one sentence after another” even though he’s tried, did Savage wonder if he’d just completed a sliver of his own obituary?
Writing success arrived later in life for Savage. Born in South Carolina and possessing a philosophy doctorate from Yale University, Savage published his first novel, Firmin: Adventures of a Metropolitan Lowlife, in 2006 at the age of 65. Then came four more novels between 2009 and 2014, as well as national recognition. Along the way, Savage developed a loyal fan base of critics and readers drawn to his reflective interpretations of loneliness and the difficulty of connection. Yet his characters still possess hope, even if they no longer seem to believe in it.
Not every story in An Orphanage of Dreams is a somber affair, but even the livelier ones possess a twinge of bleakness. In the absurd “Wee People,” the life of an unsuspecting couple is abruptly interrupted by miniature humans that “resemble tiny bankers … because of the little pinstripes and the black umbrellas they all seem to carry with them even when there is no threat of rain.” “Animal Crackers” personifies such creatures as a muskrat and a porcupine, and “The Awakening” chronicles the narrator’s own obsessive-compulsiveness with unplugging a toaster oven.
Given the quiet gravity of this material, An Orphanage of Dreams — comprising a mere 152 pages — implores you to slow down and savor the final writings of a man who had a lot to say.
Update: Sam Savage's family has informed us that he passed away on Jan. 17.
