Sunday, October 19, 2008

Narrative Drive

Part of a writer's job is to drive the narrative of his story through to the end, keeping the readers interested all the while. Authors J.D. Salinger and Russell Smith are both incredibley effective at this.

In Smith's short story "Home", the drive is initiated in the first sentence, "What you have to do is escape your family." Immediately, this makes the reader curious as to what this story is about. Is it about growing up? Leaving home? Dealing with parental issues?
The answer is revealed gradually throughout the rest of his story. It becomes apparent that the main character ("you", in this case, as this story is written, unusually, in the second person) is visiting home after being away at university. The story details the subdued chaos of a familiar bar on a friday night in the holiday season.
A female character is introduced, whom "you" find attractive. She makes two or three appearances throughout the night, adding depth and forward motion to the plot, making us want to know if "you" will make a move, although suspecting that "you" won't.
In between the scenes with this girl, the narrative is driven forward by old friends catching up on each others lives. We find out a little bit about other characters throughout the night, as well as about the bar the story takes place in, which keeps us interested.
After the bar-fight climax, "you" make a connection with the choker-art-college girl, smiling at each other across the street. This brings closure to the girl's part of the narrative, as well as the story, which is supposed to seem warm and familiar to us.

J.D. Salinger's "A Perfect Day for Bananafish" takes on a darker mood. It describes the last vacation of Seymour and Muriel, a young couple whose relationship has been unfortunately altered by Seymour's post traumatic stress syndrome after his war time experience.
The narrative is set rolling by the many references in Muriel's conversation with her mother, to Seymour's odd behaviour. Something about driving and trees, and something about what Seymour tried to do with granny's chair are mentioned to peak the readers curiousity in the mental health of Seymour's character. Those vague reference give us something to grab on to and want to know more about, so we keep reading.
In the second section, we are kept wondering what exactly is going on by the seemingly normal behaviour which Seymour exhibits while around Sybil. Only towards the end of this section does he become increasingly creepy, kissing Sybil's feet, and making her jealous, talking about another child. The narrative is driven forward as the reader wonders whether or not Seymour will make a giant faux pas with Sybil, or whether he will be normal. The foot kissing incident seals the deal.
In the third section, Seymour shows his true "shell shocked" colours, giving a woman in the elevator a hard time for looking at his feet. Readers are yet again thrown a curve ball by this sudden reversal in his behaviour. We now know that he is very mentally unstable, and are curious to see what his next move will be. Knowing that he has overstepped the boundary with Sybil, and with a reduced sense of judegment, he gets a gun out of his bag, walks over to his wife on the bed, and kills himself. The act of walking to his wife's bed makes it seem at first as if he will kill her, perhaps then abducting Sybil, but in the last line of the story, it is revealed that Seymour deals himself the fatal shot instead.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Why Crime Fiction Is Good For You

In Ian Rankin's piece "Why Crime Fiction Is Good Ior You", he outlines a number of important points to consider when writing or reading crime fiction. Most importantly, he states that the main ingredients of crime fiction are violence, sudden reversals, mystery, deception, and moral dilemma, among others. He also makes clear that crime fiction is not meant to be real life. For example, Ranking claims that crime fiction death "never happens without a reason and the causes of death never goes unpunished," whereas with real life death, "we never know what killed off our happiness". He also says that crime fiction is the perfect tool for the dissection of society, allowing writers to tackle darker issues, such as corruption, exploitation, child abuse, violence, murder, jealousy, and revenge. "It enters into dangerous territory ... and so stirs up emotional responses we might not otherwise feel." Rankin believes that the true spirit of the crime novel, whether or not the reader realizes it, is anarchic, and fits the definition of satire as well.
Relating what Rankin has just said about crime writing to some of his own works, we find that he most definitely adheres to his own principles. In his short story, "The Hanged Man", Rankin includes multiple sudden reversals, as well as mystery, deception, moral dilemma, and violence.
The violence comes in the protagonists description of his past murders, rather than an account of the on he has just been sent to carry out.
The first sudden reversal occurs when Mort gives up control of the conversation with Gypsy Rosa. She then has some power over him. Another come when Mort finds out Gypsy Rosa is his mother. Not only does it reverse his feelings towards her, but it reverses his feelings towards his father/boss. Mort says "I'll kill him," meaning that he'll kill the opposite person than he was supposed to.
Mystery is brought into the story in a number of ways. We never get to know the protagonists real name, as well as the relationship he has with his father and recently-discovered mother. We don't learn much about the father either, apart from the fact that he is someone everybody fears, and that he raped Mort's mother. It is kept from us that Mort is actually Gypsy Rosa's son, right till the end.
Mort's father deceived him by trying to trick him into killing his mother, but the plan backfired. Now Mort is facing a moral dilemma, as to whether or not kill his mother and/or his father. He was tasked to kill his mother, but the "tasker" was his father, while his mother has just revealed to him his true past, and he is reeling in the truth of the moment.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

On Writing - Drugs v.s. Creativity

Some of the greatest literary works in history are supposed to have been written or conceived while the author was high. This naturally leads one to make the association that more drugs equals more creativity. A reasonable associaton while reading Alice in Wonderland for the first time, or Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. However, it is questionable as to whether this is actually the case.
Stephen King says in his book On Writing, that "the idea that creative endeavor and mind-altering substances are entwined is one of the greast pop-intellectual myths of our time." For King, this is not a topic for debate. He is stating that that link is myth. It does not exist. And he should know. He spent years as an alcoholic and sniffing cocaine, worrying about whether he could continue the way he was. After a while, he just stopped caring.
In his book, King also describes not being able to remember writing his book Cujo. If you can't remember writing something, did you actually write it? If it's a question of bad memory, then yes, you likely did write it, unless you plagiarized. However, if you can't remember because you were so hopped up on drugs at the time, it's debatable whether or not you actually wrote it, or whether it was the drugs kicking your brain into overdrive and spewing words out at a hundred miles an hour.
There are many fantastic books written by sober people, or people who were sober when they wrote them, at least. Often, authors who partake in drugs and alcohol are more well known for their questionable habits than their literary works, which is a great pity.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Independant Reading Blog#10: 'Tis - Ability to Relate to the Story

Frank McCourt's memoir 'Tis is not supposed to be a book we can relate to, I think. The singular experiences of this young Irish gentleman are experiences only possible in a time long gone. We today are likely not able to understand McCourt's predicaments and problems. We may, however, be able understand the motives, emotions, or desires, as they are fairly human. He speaks of wanting to move up in life, of wanting sex, or womanly company at least, and of wanting to fit in. These are all human feelings that we can relate to, however, McCourt's specific experiences can hardly be related to for the average person, as they are so far from what we have experienced. However, this most certainly does not detract from the entertainment and enjoyability of 'Tis. It is a superbly written book, and well worth the read.

Independant Reading Blog#9: 'Tis - Social Commentary

The social commentary in Frank McCourt's 'Tis mostly pertains to the poor Irish class living in New York in the 1950's. There is rampant alcoholism, and therefore financial instability prevails. Education is not sought after, and in some cases even made fun of. It seems to be a very ignorant and racist society, as each ethinic group had a nickname. The Irish were referred to as "Micks", a shortened form of the common Irish name Michael.
McCourt wonders at points in the book about this new country he's just moved to, which is supposed to be a country in which you're free to do what you want, but in which he feels constrained by foreign rules and etiquette he doesn't know or understand.

Independant Reading Blog#8: 'Tis - Themes

There are three major themes in Frank McCourt's memoir 'Tis, all of which have to deal with personal advancement, or barriers blocking the way for personal advancement.
The first theme is the importance of education. Education, a thing which McCourt has precious little of upon arrival in New York, soon becomes his main priority. This is because he recognizes that if he does not gain academic knowledge, he will not be able to get a good enough non-labour job that will support him. Throughout the first part of the book, McCourt is fascinated with the University students he sees on the buses and subways around the city. Once he graduates, he becomes a teacher, because he realizes the importance of passing on his own knowledge.
The second theme is racism/classism. McCourt is constantly struggling against the racist society of the 1950's. Even though he is white, and going to college, his Irish accent gives him away as a foreigner, and even his professors make remarks about his "brogue". It is usually not an overt or aggresive racism, such as it is for the blacks in the book, although it does sometimes take the form of an insult accompanied by the term "mick". It is usually implied, but just enough to let the person know they're different. This leads to the Irish experienced with New York giving the advice to the new arrivals "keep to your own kind".
The third theme in 'Tis is the importance of hard work. The point is made that if one works hard enough, one can get anything they want. Minor characters in the book give examples of Irishmen who came to America young, worked hard their entire life, and saved up their money, and retired home to Ireland rich. McCourt also works hard to get where he does, working two jobs at a time, on top of going to school. When he teaches, he has to work during the summer in order to sustain himself. But he does well for himself in the end, and that might be to act as incentive for readers to work hard, or at least to understand the importance of hard work.

Independant Reading Blog#7: 'Tis - Setting

Frank McCourt's 'Tis is written in the unique setting of New York in the 1950's, a time and place where the prosperity of the post war economy was being enjoyed to its fullest. However, in the same city, at the same time, there was also a large population of people living in poverty. Most of the impoverished being Irish or Puerto Rican, the two cultures within the poor population were further isolated due to cultural differences, as well as from the general population by their financial differences. Racism against both cultures is common at the time, even despite the Irish being white, and ancestors of many New Yorkers.
McCourt experiences various facets of life in New York City at that time. He worked in the rough and tumble docks, where you had to watch out for a bailing hook coming at your back. He went to school at NYU, where he sat beside middle and upper-middle class college students. He taught at a Manhattan high school, where he had to tame the kids before he could teach them anything.
Much of what McCourt was concerned about in his early years in Manhattan though, was finding accomodation. He goes through a number of boarding houses and hotel rooms, before he finds one that he's even remotely satisfied with. He is then, of course, forced to move for various reasons, and the process repeats itself. McCourt's travels through New York's Irish boarding houses gives you good idea of the social setting at the time. For example, all of the boarders he lives with drink heavily, all of the rooms he stays in are shabby and unkept, and many of the landlords have problems of their own. The church still often looked after the poor.