Fore! — Reading Companion

The Dedication as a Key to Voice

The letter to Ed. Tufts is more than a courtesy; it is a compact with the reader. Van Loan describes Tufts as a 'chubby gentleman' pursuing a 'small white ball' in a wilderness of 'real estate signs,' blending nostalgia with self-deprecation. The phrase 'Cow-pasture pool' captures the early scorn for golf, while 'red-hot adjectives' hints at the colorful language to come. This dedication primes the reader for a collection that treats golf with both reverence and irreverence, where the sport's rise from fringe to popularity is mirrored in the characters' own struggles. The mention of 'Pico Street' and 'Los Angeles Country Club' grounds the work in a specific time and place, lending authenticity to the anecdotes that follow.

Handicaps and Delusions in 'Gentlemen, You Can't Go Through!'

The excerpt from the first story introduces a central tension: the gap between a golfer's self-assessment and reality. Henry Peacock, after a career-best round, insists he belongs in 'Class A' with a handicap of ten. The club official, Waddles, dismisses this as 'delusions of grandeur,' noting that Peacock's round was an outlier—'You'll never make an eighty-two again as long as you live.' The dialogue crackles with comic exasperation: Waddles orders Peacock to 'pray for humility' and blames 'lemonade' (spiked with gin, he suspects) for the inflated confidence. The scene reveals how golf handicaps become a battleground for ego, a theme that likely recurs throughout the collection. The narrator's aside—'I began to appreciate that line about the terrible insistence of the meek'—adds a layer of wry observation.

The Bish and the Persistent Novice

Later in the same story, the Bish—a fellow golfer—dismisses Peacock's practice as futile: 'he didn't take up the game till he was forty, and when he learned it he learned it all wrong.' This echoes a common golf trope: the hopeless latecomer. Yet Peacock's persistence, practicing approach shots alone, suggests a stubborn dignity. The Bish's casual cruelty—'page Doc Osler and have him put out of his misery'—contrasts with the narrator's more neutral stance. The excerpt also shows how social hierarchies operate at the club: Peacock's eagerness to join a foursome is rebuffed with a polite lie. These interactions build a portrait of golf as a social microcosm, where skill and status are constantly negotiated.

Structure and Expectations for a First Reading

The table of contents lists twelve stories, including 'Little Poison Ivy,' 'The Major, D.O.S.,' and 'A Mixed Foursome.' The title 'Fore!'—a warning cry on the course—suggests both danger and comedy. Based on the excerpts, readers can expect a consistent narrative voice: a seasoned golfer recounting clubhouse tales with a blend of affection and satire. The stories likely revolve around characters like Wally Wallace, Henry Peacock, and the Bish, each embodying a golfing type: the crusader, the deluded optimist, the cynic. The excerpts show a preference for dialogue and situational humor over technical description. First-time readers should attend to the social rules and unspoken codes that drive the plots, as well as the author's ear for the sport's peculiar jargon.

Van Loan's collection rewards readers who appreciate the game's rituals and absurdities. The excerpts suggest that each story will pivot on a single comic premise—a slow foursome, a disputed handicap, a stubborn beginner—executed with brisk dialogue and a knowing wink. Approach these tales as you would a round of golf: expect frustration, delight, and the occasional moment of unexpected grace. The real subject is not the swing but the company.

I keep thinking about that dedication in Fore!—how Van Loan seems to wave off his own seriousness, almost winking at the reader. It reminded me of reading Yekl: A Tale of the New York Ghetto — Edition Insights last winter, where the editors handle the immigrant story with the same tender restraint, nudging rather than grabbing. Strange, how two such different worlds can leave the same quiet ache.