© 2025 Texas Public Radio
Real. Reliable. Texas Public Radio.
Play Live Radio
Next Up:
0:00
0:00
0:00 0:00
Available On Air Stations

The Lonely Voice: 'Sarah Cole: A Type of Love Story' by Russell Banks

Ways To Subscribe
Russell Banks
Pixabay
Russell Banks

We’ve got a special Valentine’s Day episode for all the lovers and lonely voices out there. We’re talking about “Sarah Cole: A Type of Love Story” by Russell Banks.

Does everyone love a love story? How about the type of love story that might not be all hearts and flowers?

People are complicated. Love can be, too, then.

“Sarah Cole: A Type of Love Story” is an unusual story in many ways. It is a “type”—a very peculiar kind of love story. It’s strange and even kind of difficult to read because it is so unlike what we might expect from a typical sort of love story.

And yet, it might be surprising to some of our listeners out there that the relationship depicted here in this very strange story can be relatable. Can it? Yes. That’s the way it is with stories. As Peter Orner surmises here, stories are very singular things. They can answer questions that we’ve been trying to answer for a long time–or didn’t even know we needed an answer for.

The narration in this story is another thing that sets it apart. We start in a first-person point of view. Then the narrator directly addresses the reader as “you,” as in a dramatic monologue. Then the narration shifts to third person and the narrator refers to a character named Ron. He then, however, shifts back to first-person and then things alternate some more.

This becomes then a very meta narrative and one where we can try to decipher what all the shifting perspectives can contribute to how we understand the story.

Why does the narrator do this shifting? Well, it could be that he is creating distance between himself and the rather difficult thing that ultimately occurs between Sarah Cole and Ron. It could be that Ron simply cannot face what he did. Maybe Sarah changed him.

And here’s this. Our narrator is extremely attractive. Sarah Cole is not.

But she approaches him one day in a bar. And he responds to her.

She sees him. That’s important. She sees him in the bar that day. And he has to look at her. And then, he sees her.

Maybe he lays eyes on her unattractive features, yes, but somehow, he also sees her. And is this openness and honesty a way into love? Maybe it's the only way.

In love, openness and honesty are tenuous, fragile things that can die. Love can die if we aren’t careful with it.

And what is it that makes love take hold to begin with?

And as for this shifting perspective and this unreliable narrator, what is the truth here? Who is being honest? Is Ron good looking? Probably. So why is he alone in the world? Why does it take the homeliest woman he has ever seen to make him look up from his newspaper and his routine and see someone else—someone who has lost at love before, too, but still has love to give?

At the end of the story, does Sarah Cole really turn into the most beautiful woman Ron has ever seen? Is it a love story? Give a listen and decide for yourself. We think you'll enjoy our deliberations.

Yvette Benavides can be reached at bookpublic@tpr.org.
Peter Orner is the author of the essay collections Still No Word from You and Am I Alone Here? His story collections are Maggie Brown and Others, Esther Stories, Last Car Over the Sagamore Bridge. His novels are Love and Shame and Love and The Second Coming of Mavala Shikongo. He is a professor of English and creative writing at Dartmouth College where he directs the creative writing program.