Essay Questions

How does the first line of the first story in the collection titled A Multitude of Sins set up the everything that is to follow?

Do not misunderstand: the stories in this collection are not presented as a unified cycle of connected tales about the same characters. Each successive story differs from next in terms of characters and plot. But the opening line of “Privacy” kicks things off with not just a bang, but almost as if lighting a wick set with myriad little offshoots leading to their own little explosion choreographed to burst together in a momentous display of sight and sound. The first-person narrator states very simply and to the point in the single-sentence opening paragraph: “This was at a time when my marriage was still happy.” That idea—that complaint—will not be explicitly voiced by the characters which follow, but their stories will all be revealed as taking place at a point long past the moment that particular era of their relationships came to an end.

What does the title character in “Puppy” represent in the dark universe of Ford?

A Multitude of Sins might be characterized as the Joy Division of Ford’s short story collections. It is a gloomy, foreboding place where unhappy people struggle in vain to pretend that everything is all right and things will work out. This idea form the very centerpiece of “Puppy” in which an abandoned pooch is left on the doorstep of yet another unhappy couple. Practically the first thing out of the wife’s mouth is “We have to get rid of it.” From the point forward, the husband faces a lonely uphill battle of trying to find a good home for the little dog. And therein lies its meaning within the greater context of the whole collection. Against the backdrop of suspected infidelities, unsatisfying careers, dream endowed with far too much meaning, and the general unpleasantness of actually living in New Orleans on a daily basis, the dog becomes a symbol of the random quality of chance and fate that can either be brooded upon or driven from the mind.

How does “Under the Radar” set up its unexpected climax to reach its highest level of shock?

Again, we are presented with an unhappy marriage. A husband has just learned first-hand from his wife about an affair. Making matters even worse is the other party in this affair just happens to be the host of the dinner party they are traveling to when she breaks the news. Unlike most of the other unhappy couples, however, Marjorie and Steve are still young and haven’t attained unhappiness through the long process of growing bored and tired with each other’s company. The reader gets to know a lot more about the wife than the husband through the third-person narration and while what they get to know may be taken one way or another according to personal tastes, it is safe to assume that a lot of readers won’t exactly be overly sympathetic to her story. And it is this aspect of the tale—that not knowing as much about the husband compared to what is known about the wife—that allows the ending to come as the bigger shock. Steve does commit one horrific act, though it must be allowed than under the circumstances one can understand it even as they condemn it. And even if one refuses to understand it, it is still less horrific being run over by a woman like Marjorie.