Life is, somewhat. I am, sometimes. My integration back into the acceptable need not be.
A motto bestowed upon my vulnerable, overeager ears instructed me to 'live a life without walls', the only problem with this however is that in a life without walls, roads cannot be built, paths cannot be established and the scenery cannot be set without accentuating the obvious. I am stuck in a world where grievances are hollowed by a lack of matter. I am the prime suspect in this ironical game of whodunnit, I don't have much competition. I might smear the town walls with big red streaks that, once connected spell out contact details, 'have you seen this man' etcetera etcetera. Funny; the one time I try to go undetected (until I am me and you're six foot too far to care) I end up catching more attention than a strategic murderer who spells out ransom notes with whatever he's got left.
It all started about a week ago. I say started, really it was an ironical cocktail that had a splash of opening and a rather considerable measure of closure. It left you shaken, the residual ice cubes stirred my conscience to an almost penultimate scenario. You greeted me in such a way that what was once a confident, fearless and almost faultless being instantly established the same level of rapport that a rabbit makes with a set of instantaneous car headlamps. I didn't like that.
I'm not a builder so I don't see how I could have bridged the divide that now existed. A Luciferian dream whistled through my head just light a summer scented breeze, I smiled.
People say 'what doesn't kill you can only make you stronger'. I followed you. It didn't make you stronger.
So here we were, I smiled you... didn't. Not so much a Da Vinci more a sort of Pollock, maybe even a Warhol if you look real close. I convinced myself the twiching wasn't fuelled by any sort of emotions, just a side effect. Things are simpler now. No emotions tying us down. Just me and you. We're together now.
hi carlsberger,
ReplyDeleteYou know I'm a big fan of your work. Your original, slightly skewed perspectives, your poetic language, your dark humour; it's all here.
While I think your most polished work is still in traditional poem form; your brave, uncompromising prosepoetry has a lifetime of potential.
Sometimes a sentence seems to spin out of control (the rabbit bit?); sometimes there seem to be extraneous words perhaps added to clarify meaning. But
Life is, somewhat. I am, sometimes. My integration back into the acceptable need not be.
An opening like that? Man, special. A writer's credo. Onwards!
Although the plot “hook” here is a very good, if slightly familiar one – the seemingly articulate and intelligent yet deep-down utterly psychotic protagonist committing murder (first literary touchstone that comes to mind is American Psycho: there are more) – what really carries the piece is the voice you create (which in turn creates our sense of character, of course). There are some absolutely wonderful turns of phrase here. I’ll quickly single out my favourites:
ReplyDelete‘Life is, somewhat. I am, sometimes. My integration back into the acceptable need not be. ‘ (Pretty much any work, no matter how “literary”, needs a cracking first line. This is certainly that!)
‘I'm not a builder so I don't see how I could have bridged the divide that now existed.’
‘People say 'what doesn't kill you can only make you stronger'. I followed you. It didn't make you stronger.’
‘So here we were, I smiled you... didn't. Not so much a Da Vinci more a sort of Pollock…’
However, this last line is diluted by the ‘Warhol’ follow up, which stretches your point and means the joke loses its punch. This leads me to a more general point: you need to develop a stronger ability to self edit. In other words: cut, cut, and cut again. Interrogate your sentences: is each one fulfilling a purpose? I’d argue that the first half of the second paragraph (from ‘a motto…’ to ‘…lack of matter’) isn’t doing much at all, and I would also suggest that the enjoyment of the ‘cocktail’ metaphor is thinned through an over extended metaphor. Currently, some great bits of imagery are being lost amid the not-so-great.
The cuts I’ve suggested – and there are more you could make – are also all points where it seems the author, rather than the character, is speaking. Whatever form you choice, your narrative voice must, must, must be consistent, and so clearly this is a problem.
Finally, on a close reading level: because your ear for rhythm is usually so fantastic (as the above phrases show!), the times when that rhythm goes really hits home with a clunk: the double use of ‘ironical’, the instantly/instantaneous repetitions. There’s also a typo and some comma misuse.
Your work is always mature, with some wonderful phrasings, and often a skilful deployment of humour. This final task has been a great showcase for your idiosyncratic style. I really hope you continue writing in the future, and wish you the best of luck.
Thanks guys,
ReplyDeleteIt's been strenuos to say the least, but I think we can all safely say it's been worthwhile.
Thanks for such detailed commentry Sarah and Pugnax. It's down to your comments and considerate moderation that such 'cracking first lines' have been sculpted in the first place, and I certainly couldn't have developed to such an advanced stage without all your help.
A million thanks for all your dedication.
Carlsberger.