For my first part of Task 39, I have decided to analyse Xiaolu Guo's 'A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary For Lovers'. This piece exploits the common misconception 'Bigger is better'. By deconstructing the previously 'flawless' English language Xiaolu practically eliminates all elements of cliché that could potentially threaten this piece. By utilising the language defect present in this character the whole idea of 'show not tell' is automatically incorporated, the reader automatically decrypts the protagonist's story, then rebuilds it to match his/her exacting specifications. In the second part of this story however, we are violently jolted out of the comfortably lackadaisical mindset we have now adopted. The story suddenly increases in body. We find out about how the immigrant protagonist seeks ways to support her parents back in china, and how the clear clash in cultures is clearly affecting him/her. For all these reason and more, 'A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary For Lovers' has influenced me most.
Cap-tiv-i-ty (Kap-tiv-i-te)
n. pl. cap-tiv-i-ties
The state or period of being imprisoned, confined, or enslaved.
Some say the end is just the beginning. I can't see how that would apply to my situation.
The unforgiving torture of self-insanity gnaws at what precious little there is left of my inner control. These walls crudely scarred my perception on life long ago. I warn you, what is left of me now is far from desirable, attractive and by now means preferable. Rehabilitated? Institutionalisation leaves me debilitated.
The walls cry ever marked glossy white tears, The floor sometimes cracks under expectations to preform and from time to time The old fabric chairs sometimes let out a cry of desperation for a new beginning. For they know I will eventually meet my end.
I seek no solace, I need no strife, all I want is to live my life. I can't. Deemed as mentally unstable I indulge in the comforts I have left. Sometimes my companions will present themselves on the rubber plant beside my bed. They watch, with microscopic expression, then disappear like a figment of my imagination. But why will you think me mad?
Her rubber-clad hands will occasionally throw a rope from the path of sanity, yet my hands are incapable of utilising any form of grip. Disregarded, she begins the chemical attack on what could once be loosely confirmed as a mattress, her mouth will expel Korma-Flavoured carbon dioxide into mine, I embrace it whilst i still can. She hearkens to the beacons of folderol that the creature beside me will provide, she bellows a barotonic chorus in perfect synchronisation. He is left willingly overcome.
My time here is nearly over. I like to think I'll go out with a bang, a flash of lights and a flurry of attention. Real rock 'n' Roll, you know? Truth is I was never capable of kicking up such a fuss, never will be. Not now anyway. Incapacitated by a crippling truth I should have accepted long ago. It's too late now. My time came waltzing by long ago.
Some say the end is just the beginning...
Your final prose piece of the academic year demonstrates, once again, many of the great strengths of your writing – but it also repeats some of the problems you’ve come up against before.
ReplyDeleteAs usual, there are some sharp, sophisticated lines. You show your usual flair for pithy, memorable statements with that brilliant opener: ‘Some say the end is just the beginning. I can't see how that would apply to my situation’. The self-awareness gives it a postmodern zest, and this aphorism also introduces a gripping plot (some definitive, life-changing/-ending event is surely about to happen, the reader thinks) and a laconic, self-assured narrator. There are flashes of similar excellence throughout the piece, such as ‘My time came waltzing by long ago.’
However, you also indulge in your tendency to overwrite. A good example of this is ‘the unforgiving torture of self-insanity gnaws at what precious little there is left of my inner control’. After such a sharp opening this really falls flat: the roundabout phrasing of ‘what precious little left there is’ feels flabby; ‘unforgiving torture’ is weak (SHOW the reader how the torture is “unforgiving”); ‘self-insanity’ is awkwardly constructed and difficult to picture; and the adjective of ‘gnaws’ conflicts a little with that image of ‘torture’. In your redraft, you should have stripped some of this purple prose away, leaving a punchier sentence, such as ‘insanity gnaws at what is left of my control’ (or similar…). I’m not preaching minimalism AT ALL (most of the canon is closer to maximalism than minimalism), but I strongly believe that in all writing every word should count. Currently not all your words are pulling their weight.
Just to give another quick example; ‘my hands are incapable of utilising any form of grip’. Sure, this roundabout phrasing does reveal something about the narrator, but is it really worth it to deploy such a clunky sentence? Wouldn’t ‘my hands are incapable of gripping’ be a lot more readable – and thus a lot more appealing to your readership?
Look out for awkward phrasings: the close repetition of ‘sometimes’ in the descriptions of furniture, the illogical ‘all I want is to live my life. I can't’ (he can’t what? Can’t want his life? But he’s already told the reader he does want his life…?) There are also some spelling and grammar issues in this piece, which I’m sure you can pick up yourself if you read it through again.
You’ve got masses of potential; I think that by responding to the mods’ comments, and making sure your redrafts are more severe and more detached, you can really tap into it!
Hi Carlsberger,
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed the Gothic darkness of this piece. You’ve created a compelling character and a very real sense of place. The narrator has a wonderfully strong, casually despairing voice. I like how he (I’m presuming it’s a man) transposes his feelings onto his environment - the way in which he talks about his environment and possessions reflects his state of mind. I particularly like how the walls cry; the image evokes damp, dirt, gloom and impurity, and for me, the sense of a very old institution in which many inmates have suffered and died. You could consider shortening the sentence to: ‘The walls cry white tears.’ I did wonder about the whiteness though - how come they’re white?
I very much admire the imaginative leaps you take in the fourth and fifth paragraphs. The ‘korma-flavoured (no need for capitals) carbon dioxide’ is surprising and original, and ‘bellows a barotonic chorus’ brilliantly rhythmic.
It would benefit from some editing. The more lofty and detached language: ‘... yet my hands are incapable of utilizing....’ weakens the piece, makes it less immediate.
In the fifth paragraph, the narrator briefly refers to himself in the third person (‘He is left willingly overcome.’). A shift like this might be a fitting reflection of his fragile sanity but it stands out because the piece is short and because it only happens once. It’s a challenge to move fluidly between the first and third person but it can be done extremely well - the best example I can think of is J.P. Donleavy’s the Ginger Man.
A couple of other references... Perhaps because I interpreted ‘companions’ as insects, the narrator reminded me of the (insect-eating) character of Renfield in Dracula. I know there are lots of Dracula films but if you haven’t already, perhaps you’d like to read the novel by Bram Stoker. Maybe you’d also enjoy John Banville’s novel the Book of Evidence.
Fantastic work. It was a pleasure to read it. Well done!
Joanne
Hi Carlsberger,
ReplyDeleteI think this is your strongest prose piece so far. So many phrases deserving praise. Many sound like old adages, aphorisms, but are wonderfully fresh.
"Rehabilitated? Institutionalisation leaves me debilitated."
"I seek no solace. I need no strife, all I want is to live my life." (Maybe a full-stop after strife, but I'll trust you."
My favourite,
"She hearkens to the beacons of folderol that the creature beside me will provide."
This line validates your use of archaic words. They flow, have depths of meaning, yet (and) unsettle. Your style is really emerging here. You're beginning to combine the best of your poetry with natural, original prose. Quite exciting. Better to "err" on the side of "overwriting" than compromise at this early stage.
Just a few quibbles. PLEASE proof-read meticulously. I think you should have a trusted reader look at your "final" draft. It often takes a fresh eye to catch these things. (That's why there are editors.)
Also, I think the ending could be stronger. While the final refrain is can be an effective device, it's verging on the tired. "I was never capable of kicking up such a fuss, never will be, not now anyway." would be a nice subdued ending.
If you want a dramatic and melancholy tone, the truly inspired "My time came waltzing by long ago." would be great.
This reminds me of Beckett's Malone Dies and Gunther Grass' The Tin Drum which you might want to check out. Also, for tired-brain-days REM's beautiful song Try Not to Breathe.
Hey,
ReplyDeleteBrilliant opening – very “novelistic”.
The second paragraph tends a little towards over-writing, which is something I’ve pointed out in your work before. It’s good to have a strong, cultured voice, but there is a danger that the voice sounds like the same one in most of your pieces – it’s using phrases like “crudely scarred my perception”. It’s just a slightly more heightened register than one would normally expect in conversational language, and as this is written in the first person, I feel that the tone should be slightly more naturalistic. It’s not that I don’t like it! I would just be interested in seeing you write in a slightly different voice, since your obvious capacity and flair with language is so pronounced.
I’m a bit lost with the phrase “The walls cry ever marked glossy white tears”: there’s a good metaphor here somewhere, but I think you’ve left a little too much work for the reader to puzzle it out; and I’m not quite convinced by the anthropomorphising of the fabric chairs knowing that the speaker will “meet [his] end”. Even though the speaker is unhinged, they are only chairs, after all! So the effect is more a comic than ominous one.
I love the nursery-rhyme jangling of “I seek no solace, I need no strife, all I want is to live my life”. I think the sense of being “on the edge” mentally is another things common to most of the pieces I’ve seen from you, and here it is deftly rendered in the subtle hint of the childish. Subtle stuff. I love the idea of the “companions” appearing “on the rubber plant” beside the bed, too: in this instance, the strangeness, which could tip into comedy (like with the fabric chairs), is unsettling rather than confusing.
I also like the way this mutates into the “rubber-clad hands” in the next paragraph, and the ensuing dream sequence is really well-rendered: uncanny, without being overwrought. I particularly like the framing device of the repeated phrase, too.
Overall, it is great to see how you continue to develop such subtleties of writing; just watch that the general tone isn’t too elaborate.
Well done.
Penny
Hey all,
ReplyDeleteThanks to everyone for providing such detailed commentary regardless of personal circumstances. They Make all those metaphorical tears shed over the frustration of creative writing taste a whole lot sweeter.
Best wishes,
Carlsbeger.