Gillian’s “Maid of Honor”
Gillian writes in a very, very close third person. The reader in inside Susan’s head, feeling her emotions almost immediately and continuously throughout the whole story. Being this close, she catpures the feeling of what it was like to be in senior year of high school as a college-bound student, something everyone in this class, at leaast, can relate to. Because we are so close, I buy her feelings of trying to get close to her sister because the desperation to try to clean things up at home before leaving really comes through, even though she never mentions it.
Gillian seems to have a good hold on her character, Susan, and it seems like she could probably put her in any situation and be able to document what she does. She is clear about what Susan is looking at. For example, when she says, “She stared moodily out of her window. Across the street, several elementary-school kids were playing a game of hide-and-seek, their outlines glowing slightly in the fading light of the late-summer sun,” the rhetorical eye creates a very clear image of what she is looking at. I can see the backlit kids across the street as though I am looking through a window. She set up the image well so that you cannot help but see it the way she wants it to be seen.
The dream sequence confused me a little. I know it’s a dream and it is supposed to be confusing, but I did not really buy that the dream happened. Maybe I am just skeptical of dream sequences, but I felt that the dream was not given context. I am not sure if this is a day dream or if she is asleep in her room or what. I love the description at the end that says, “Susan doubled over with sobbing, great heaving breaths coming all the way from her stomach, bringing her insides to her throat until she was sick, retching, vomiting her sorrow onto the polished floor.” The idea of vomiting sorrow is hard to swallow, but because she adds the modifier “polished” to the floor, I suddenly have an image that I can hold on to, as surreal as it is.
Matt’s “Birthmark”
Matt is playing with making a story incredibly real and tangible in it’s description of the world so that it possible to buy the one surreal item he throws in, the birthmark that falls off. “It was smooth at one point, but it has become rough like a scab,” he says at one point, and this image makes the birthmark something that the reader can feel because everyone has felt a scab before. It doesn’t, however, make the birthmark a scab — it only gives it texture and context.
The decriptions are purposefully understated and non-descript, but it is clear that this is a trait of the first-person narrator. It makes the story funny at times and creates a very awkward rhetorical figure. Sometimes, however, it hard to believe that the narrator would never open up more. He seems to be hiding his emotions, even though he is talking about a very soft moment in his life.
Another small contradiction that just bothered me a little, though it’s not a big deal, is that the birthmark is gross enough that people will not sit next to him on the bus, yet he was able to get a girl who not only went to a dance with him but kissed him, and on his birthmark, no less. This is a surreal moment in the plot that is very concrete for a lot of the rest of it, and that is why it is hard to swallow. I really liked the detail of the birthmark getting stuck on her lips — that idea made me feel pretty sick, especially with all the description of it being red, though not infected. It might not be infected, but it’s still gross.
Bess’ “Leap”
Bess has amazing control of her character’s motions. When her room floods, I can see her dancing like a ballerina, partly pecause the image was set up well beforehand by the description of the picture of the ballerina. I can imagine her swimming motions as she moves through the thick air that becomes like water in this surreal world.
She doesn’t, however, spend any time describing the surroundings. One effect of this is that Enna’s mtions really stand out like a studio picture or a theater stage where the background is plain in order to create a contrast between it and the subject. In this way it works well and I beautiful. However, the force of the flood and, thus, her fear of it is kind of lost because it is difficult to make a mental image of the nondescript cement room flooding. I am not even sure how big the area is, so it feels like watching a dancer on a stage, but you can’t tell where the stage ends. It’s a very interesting feeling, but it does really seem like it was done on purpose.
Al’s story
Al is very good at using the sound of his words to describe the action. He writes, “The wind changes outside nd the rain pats harder against the siding of the house,” and the sound of the S’s makes a light patter sound at strange intervals the way rain does.
When he writes, “Through the walls Wynona hears thunder or a semi-truck on Ogdem Avenue,” not only is the sound of thunder evoked, but the level of muffling caused by the walls is also added to the sound making even more tangible. It’s not the sound of thunder, which sounds like a lot of things — it is that sound from inside that could be either thunder or a big truck, but you honestly can’t tell which one it is. That sound is completely different than just the sound of thunder.
Kate’s “fruit”
Kate has incredible control of sensation so that she can not only describe something and make that object tangible, but she can also use what the narrator smells to build the rhetorical figure at the same time. She says, “It smells like over-ripe fruit and sweat and hand-rolled cigarettes like the ones my father smokes,” and not only does the sensation of the market get created, but also some depth of detail about her father. However, the most important thing the sentense tells the reader is that the narrator remembers the scent and relates it to her father’s cigarettes.
Like Al, Kate can make the sound of her words mimic the action she describes. When the car accident happens, she describes it saying, “I am snapped back by the belt,” which has an interesting, hard stop and start of a sound to it just like the pulling of the seatbelt across her chest.
Amanda’s “Pico de Perrico”
The play between yes and no is really interesting because it establishes a mood of distrust and tension between Alejandra and tía Olga. It also shows that Alejandra is the kind of person who would rather lie than cause conflict.
Amanda’s description of Alejandra running up the stairs is very interesting because it kind of comes out of nowhere. While all this drama with her aunt yelling at her, Alejandra is lost in thought about the feeling of the staris beneath her feet and the fact the she can nearly glide up them without making a sound. It is a clear mental filter that Alejandra has that tells the reader a lot about her character. It becomses clear that maybe she did leave the cage open and that maybe she did forget to feed it. And she does this while creating a very vivd and smooth picture of the simple act of walking up stairs.
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Sketches 2
Sketches 2
1.
Jeffers’ chest clenched tight and he dug his fingers into the steering wheel until his knuckles were white and he froze — just keep going, keep going, I’m not here, I’m not here — and he was slouched in his seat, making himself as small as possible, when had he done that? He tightened every muscle — including his eyes — and tried to drift by with the car like a log down a river. The yellow Volkswagen passed and Jeffers sat up and was glaring through the rearview mirror — Ignore The Environment, It Will Go Away — what a fucker.
2.
“Give me that stick!” screamed a middle-aged man with receding brown hair. Jeffers shifted his weight because his ass hurt from sitting on the bench for too long. He watched as a little girl dropped her stick and wobbled as fast as she could towards a large wooden seesaw — the balding man lunging after her. Jeffers’ took out a cigarette and lit it with the butt of his old one. Watching that man had stressed him out, and now his palms were sweaty and his face felt heavy and warm.
3.
Jeffers kicked the ball and it soared right under the goal post — the net behind the goal long missing. Mike stood up straight, turned and started walking after it, and Jeffers’ stomach started to feel sick. Shit, he thought, I am a dick. He hadn’t even thought about whether Mike was bored or not. Jeffers always did this — he would be really into something and suddenly realize that the only reason the other person is still there is because he must seem so excited and thrilled by it. Jeffers was embarrassed. He thought of the Christmas when he got his 18-speed bicycle and how he could not stop his face from smiling — the muscles in his cheeks sore and stretched.
4.
Hey, dude, what’s up?
Nothin’, man, how about you.
Nothing.
Cool.
What are you doing tonight?
I don’t know, um, I was supposed to go with Andy and them to this girl’s house at like nine or so, so I don’t know.
Oh, that’s cool.
Yeah.
Cool. Yeah, I think I might go over to Danny’s, you know, drink some beers or something.
That’s cool, man.
Yeah.
Cool, all right. Hey, man, I actually have to eat right now, so I’ll catch you later, okay?
Yeah, that’s cool. See ya, man.
Later.
5.
His palms itched from the shaking lawnmower handle in Jeffers Patrick Henry’s hands. The muscles in the arch of his feet were stretched and stung from the sharp angle his toes made on the ground as he pushed the machine forward. His head down, elbows locked, arms running by his ears — the lawnmower finally angled over at the top of the hill. A smooth wave of satisfaction ran down his arms to his spine from where it spread to every last muscle in his soaking wet body.
6.
His bare back slid on the sloppy bench. Jeffers Patrick Henry grabbed the steel bar in front of him and took a breath and pushed his triceps tight felt like they were not even attached to the bone that ran into his shoulder that felt gooey inside he thought his forehead pushing down on his eyelids so tight they squeezed his eyeballs into his head but his elbows straightened and he brought the weight down to it’s holding spot.
7.
“Can I take your order?” said the drive-thru menu.
“Hold on,” Mike said to the box. Then, turning to the backseat, he asked, “Dude, should I order a pizza vagina?” He stuck his tongue out when he grinned, which made Jeffers shift to the left. The guy can hear you, he thought, but he wouldn’t say anything. Mike was just doing his thing, he told himself.
“If you want, man, I just kind of want a bacon cheeseburger and a medium fry, and I don’t want them to spit in it.”
“Fine.”
8.
I’m very particular about my clothing. I work out, sure, but you can make yourself look a lot stronger if you just buy the right kind of shirt. Tight, sleeveless and dark is the way to go. But it can’t be trashy, either. It has to look like you made an effort to buy good clothing, but that this sleeveless shirt if the only shirt that would fit your massive arms. Obviously this isn’t true, but that is the idea of it. Don’t tell people that because they will know you’re lying.
9.
As Jeffers entered his room, he saw a pair of khaki slacks with big pockets on the sides by the knees sitting on top of the crumpled navy blue comforter at the foot of his bed.
“Mom, what’s the deal with this pair of pants?” Jeffers called down the hallway.
“They were on sale at Marshals so I bought them for you. If you don’t like them we can return them.”
Jeffers felt panic in his throat and down into his lungs. He knew they were for him, but he didn’t want them to be. He wanted them to be hand-me downs from his cousins or something so he wouldn’t have to tell his mother that she just wasted her time. Those pockets would be handy, he thought as he held them by the waist and let them fall down in front of his legs. No, man, these are embarrassing, he thought, and he threw them onto the bed.
10.
Jeffers’ shoes were size 12. They were white Nikes with black stripes and swirls all over the place. When he bought them, he thought they looked fast, but now the stripes really bug him. One stripe runs down the outside of the shoe and curves when it gets close to the toe before ending at the very tip. It looks tacky, he thought. These are the kinds of things that people ten years from now will be making fun of. Are they supposed to be futuristic or something?
He felt the toe of his show like they do in shoe stores and he could fit more than his whole thumb at the top. When he realized this, he sat up and let his arms drop — his shoulders shrugged. He had bought bigger shoes because he was used to buying bigger than he needed.
In grade school, there is always a competition to see who had the biggest shoes. In third grade Andrew had size seven and everyone thought he was so cool. Jeffers remembers sitting on the gym floor before gym class as Andrew’s shoe was passed from hand to hand as his classmates admired it.
And now Jeffers shoes are too big because of it.
1.
Jeffers’ chest clenched tight and he dug his fingers into the steering wheel until his knuckles were white and he froze — just keep going, keep going, I’m not here, I’m not here — and he was slouched in his seat, making himself as small as possible, when had he done that? He tightened every muscle — including his eyes — and tried to drift by with the car like a log down a river. The yellow Volkswagen passed and Jeffers sat up and was glaring through the rearview mirror — Ignore The Environment, It Will Go Away — what a fucker.
2.
“Give me that stick!” screamed a middle-aged man with receding brown hair. Jeffers shifted his weight because his ass hurt from sitting on the bench for too long. He watched as a little girl dropped her stick and wobbled as fast as she could towards a large wooden seesaw — the balding man lunging after her. Jeffers’ took out a cigarette and lit it with the butt of his old one. Watching that man had stressed him out, and now his palms were sweaty and his face felt heavy and warm.
3.
Jeffers kicked the ball and it soared right under the goal post — the net behind the goal long missing. Mike stood up straight, turned and started walking after it, and Jeffers’ stomach started to feel sick. Shit, he thought, I am a dick. He hadn’t even thought about whether Mike was bored or not. Jeffers always did this — he would be really into something and suddenly realize that the only reason the other person is still there is because he must seem so excited and thrilled by it. Jeffers was embarrassed. He thought of the Christmas when he got his 18-speed bicycle and how he could not stop his face from smiling — the muscles in his cheeks sore and stretched.
4.
Hey, dude, what’s up?
Nothin’, man, how about you.
Nothing.
Cool.
What are you doing tonight?
I don’t know, um, I was supposed to go with Andy and them to this girl’s house at like nine or so, so I don’t know.
Oh, that’s cool.
Yeah.
Cool. Yeah, I think I might go over to Danny’s, you know, drink some beers or something.
That’s cool, man.
Yeah.
Cool, all right. Hey, man, I actually have to eat right now, so I’ll catch you later, okay?
Yeah, that’s cool. See ya, man.
Later.
5.
His palms itched from the shaking lawnmower handle in Jeffers Patrick Henry’s hands. The muscles in the arch of his feet were stretched and stung from the sharp angle his toes made on the ground as he pushed the machine forward. His head down, elbows locked, arms running by his ears — the lawnmower finally angled over at the top of the hill. A smooth wave of satisfaction ran down his arms to his spine from where it spread to every last muscle in his soaking wet body.
6.
His bare back slid on the sloppy bench. Jeffers Patrick Henry grabbed the steel bar in front of him and took a breath and pushed his triceps tight felt like they were not even attached to the bone that ran into his shoulder that felt gooey inside he thought his forehead pushing down on his eyelids so tight they squeezed his eyeballs into his head but his elbows straightened and he brought the weight down to it’s holding spot.
7.
“Can I take your order?” said the drive-thru menu.
“Hold on,” Mike said to the box. Then, turning to the backseat, he asked, “Dude, should I order a pizza vagina?” He stuck his tongue out when he grinned, which made Jeffers shift to the left. The guy can hear you, he thought, but he wouldn’t say anything. Mike was just doing his thing, he told himself.
“If you want, man, I just kind of want a bacon cheeseburger and a medium fry, and I don’t want them to spit in it.”
“Fine.”
8.
I’m very particular about my clothing. I work out, sure, but you can make yourself look a lot stronger if you just buy the right kind of shirt. Tight, sleeveless and dark is the way to go. But it can’t be trashy, either. It has to look like you made an effort to buy good clothing, but that this sleeveless shirt if the only shirt that would fit your massive arms. Obviously this isn’t true, but that is the idea of it. Don’t tell people that because they will know you’re lying.
9.
As Jeffers entered his room, he saw a pair of khaki slacks with big pockets on the sides by the knees sitting on top of the crumpled navy blue comforter at the foot of his bed.
“Mom, what’s the deal with this pair of pants?” Jeffers called down the hallway.
“They were on sale at Marshals so I bought them for you. If you don’t like them we can return them.”
Jeffers felt panic in his throat and down into his lungs. He knew they were for him, but he didn’t want them to be. He wanted them to be hand-me downs from his cousins or something so he wouldn’t have to tell his mother that she just wasted her time. Those pockets would be handy, he thought as he held them by the waist and let them fall down in front of his legs. No, man, these are embarrassing, he thought, and he threw them onto the bed.
10.
Jeffers’ shoes were size 12. They were white Nikes with black stripes and swirls all over the place. When he bought them, he thought they looked fast, but now the stripes really bug him. One stripe runs down the outside of the shoe and curves when it gets close to the toe before ending at the very tip. It looks tacky, he thought. These are the kinds of things that people ten years from now will be making fun of. Are they supposed to be futuristic or something?
He felt the toe of his show like they do in shoe stores and he could fit more than his whole thumb at the top. When he realized this, he sat up and let his arms drop — his shoulders shrugged. He had bought bigger shoes because he was used to buying bigger than he needed.
In grade school, there is always a competition to see who had the biggest shoes. In third grade Andrew had size seven and everyone thought he was so cool. Jeffers remembers sitting on the gym floor before gym class as Andrew’s shoe was passed from hand to hand as his classmates admired it.
And now Jeffers shoes are too big because of it.
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