Buttered Side Down: Stories

In Short

This collection presents a series of observational portraits centered on the working lives and private anxieties of early 20th-century urbanites. From shop clerks and waitresses to small-town transplants navigating the anonymity of Chicago, these stories dissect the "buttered side down" nature of existence—the moments where luck, ambition, or heartbreak collide with the mundane. By eschewing romantic artifice in favor of sharp dialogue and sympathetic detail, the writing documents the struggle for dignity and belonging in a modernizing, often indifferent, American landscape.

The Story

The narrative arc of these stories moves through the lives of people who exist in the margins of a bustling city. The collection opens by discarding the "happily ever after" of traditional fiction, establishing a tone of gritty realism. We meet young women like Gertie, a shop girl who recognizes her limits, choosing to return to the stability of a small-town life in Beloit rather than chase the empty illusions of a city flat. We see the fragile, transactional nature of urban relationships, where a shoe clerk finds his professional pride while Sophy, his colleague, maintains her defiance against the judgment of others.

The scope expands to include the "bush league" romances of small-town athletes and the weary, rhythmic grind of the kitchen staff in high-end restaurants. There is a persistent tension between the desire for glamour—represented by the distant, glittering world of the "Pink Fountain Room"—and the cold, soapy reality of the scrub-woman’s existence. Characters often find themselves at a crossroads: should they chase a grand, elusive future or settle for the meager but tangible comforts of a "cozy little three-room flat"?

As the collection progresses, the stories turn toward themes of isolation. An aging store clerk, recovering from illness, aches for the simple, human intimacy of someone who cares enough to check on her, contrasting her lonely independence with the domestic warmth she once imagined. The city is portrayed as a machine that consumes the hopes of the young and the naive. We witness the tragic undoing of a man like Eddie, who, tempted by the promise of adventure in travel posters, finds only the crushing loneliness of a cheap hotel room. The arc closes not with a triumphant breakthrough, but with a return to the streets, the billboards, and the relentless cycle of daily work. The final image of the recruiting poster—offering travel and advancement—serves as a cyclical reminder of the bait that keeps the city churning, leaving its inhabitants to find their own small, quiet ways to survive the day.

How It Unfolds

The rejection of artifice The opening lines explicitly dismiss the traditional romantic conclusion, opting instead to present a world where the glamour of a "Prince" fades into the reality of daily habits. This sets the stage for stories that prioritize the "kitchen side of the door" over the fairy tale.

The migration to the city Young men and women arrive from small towns like Oskaloosa, filled with the energy of youth and specific technical skills. They attempt to carve out a living in Chicago, discovering quickly that the city is a "first cousin" to New York—intimidating, indifferent, and expensive.

The friction of the workplace The stories settle into the rhythm of shops, kitchens, and boarding houses where character is revealed through labor. Conversations about shoe leather, the price of living, and the management of a restaurant kitchen highlight the social hierarchies that define these individuals.

The internal reckoning Characters reach points of crisis where their initial aspirations clash with their environment. They must choose between a return home to a familiar, if smaller, life or a continued, often lonely, struggle to keep up appearances in the city.

The finality of the routine The collection ends on a somber, cyclical note, emphasizing that the dreams sold by billboards and posters rarely match the reality of a worn carpet. The characters are left to reconcile their ambitions with the limitations of their circumstances, finding grace in small acts of kindness or quiet resignation.

The People

Gertie is the practical, self-aware shop girl who understands that she is better suited for a small-town life than the hollow aspirations of the city; she chooses the "puddle" over the dangerous ambition of the "frog." Sophy is a resilient, defiant worker who maintains her sense of self despite the petty criticisms of her peers, serving as a bastion of common sense. Effie, one of the "old girls" at the store, represents the vulnerability of the independent woman who, after a brush with death, realizes that her pride in self-sufficiency masks a deep, unmet need for human connection and care. Ted Terrill is the tragic figure of the "man who came back," his potential eroded by the cycle of addiction and failure, while Eddie Houghton is a victim of his own romanticization of the world, ultimately finding no escape from his crushing disillusionment. Together, these figures represent a spectrum of the American working class, each defined by their attempt to retain their identity within an environment that views them as interchangeable parts.

In Its Own Voice

"These stories make no such promises. They stop just short of the phrase of the old story writers, and end truthfully, thus: And so they lived."

The author sets the tone for the collection, emphasizing a commitment to realism over fantasy.

"I'm a little frog, and it's me for the puddle."

Gertie articulates her decision to abandon the city for the comfort of a small-town life.

"Most of us are where we are because we belong there, and if we didn't, we wouldn't be."

The narrator reflects on the difficult, often circular, realization that one’s life path is often determined by necessity rather than grand design.

What It's Really About

The central argument is that the "glamour" of city life is a thin veneer covering the harsh, repetitive reality of the working class. It questions whether the price of independence—specifically for women and the working poor—is a loneliness so profound that it strips away the very individuality one sought to protect. The collection explores the tension between the "home-town feeling" and the allure of the urban center, ultimately suggesting that true satisfaction is found not in grand ambition, but in the small, often unnoticed connections between people. It asks: Is a life of quiet, stable routine worth more than the pursuit of a dream that may never exist?

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the sharp, observational prose of early 20th-century realism will find much to admire here. There is a distinct, rhythmic quality to the writing—full of urban slang, specific period detail, and a deep, empathetic understanding of the working life. It feels like stepping into a bustling, dusty, and vibrant Chicago of a century ago.

However, modern readers should be prepared for the period-specific attitudes, particularly regarding class, gender roles, and the occasionally blunt, stereotypical depictions of different immigrant groups. The dialect and slang are very much of their time, which provides an authentic atmosphere but may require a moment of adjustment for those accustomed to contemporary prose. Despite this, the emotional core of the book—the fear of being alone, the desire to be "somebody," and the longing for a place to belong—is timeless. You will likely walk away from these stories with a heightened sensitivity to the lives of those working behind counters and in kitchens, and a renewed appreciation for the small, human gestures that make the "buttered side down" life bearable. It is a slim, honest volume that lingers long after the final page.