My favorite piece from this selection was ‘Girl’ by Jamaica Kincaid. I enjoyed how the piece lacked a typical sentence structure but it did not lack flow, some excellent uses of repetition connected the piece in its entirety for me. I also found the message of this piece the most clear and compelling for me, it felt relatable and was easy to understand without directly saying ‘The message of this piece is…’ I also think this message gave us a good idea of how the author was raised and the period in which they are writing about.
This week I really focused on What We Talk About When We Talk About Love by Raymond Carver. This is the second piece of his that I’ve read. I really like his tone because to me it seems so real, almost like I’m in his thoughts with him. This piece really reminded me of how people who have not been in a domestic violence situation don’t understand it. The victim almost always feels like what they’re experiencing is love and this is no fault of their own. It is the strategy of the abuser. They start off by isolating the target from their support system. That way, they aren’t around to tell them that these behaviors are red flags. Further, the victim begins to feel like the abuser is the only one around them. Love necessitates revisitation as the podcast last week discussed. So, when you are mainly around just one person you might start to feel like they are the person that loves you most and since your support system is withered down, there is nobody to dispel this false narrative. It turns into a “well he or she loves me so intensely that they threatened ___ because they want me that much.” It’s a really bad place to be stuck in and it’s extremely lonely. Even when you might be around a group of friends like Mel, you realize that nobody understands and they might be judgemental about your situation. You may even lose a lot of friends by being in an abusive relationship.
“Good Country People” is an interesting story because it follows the generalizations of people who live in the South. One of the prime examples of this is the Bible salesman. I could do more research on this question, but I wonder what connection the author has to these groups of people and if they created this story from personal experience or not. This makes me think about the possibilities for my fiction pieces. Some of it can be based on places or people I’ve interacted with because my personal experience will add detail to the story, but in other cases, it may be interesting to learn more about a group of people whom I don’t have a connection with or play on my lack of knowledge through another character.
Recitatif By Toni Morrison
I’m a Toni Morrison fan so I wasn’t surprised to really enjoy this story. I have always admired her ability to describe physical attributes as inanimate objects that aid the reader in conjuring exactly the image that fits the description. I found the time jumps to be so fluid and not jarring in the way other fiction pieces often are. Maybe because the story is always working itself back to childhood. I think about the name “Twyla” and how it is used as a transporter for the characters back to St. Bonny’s and being 8 years old. I also appreciated that the story gave us glimpses of Twyla’s life beyond Roberta but it never pulled focus for more than a paragraph before the heart of the story comes back.
I was so captivated by Morison’s Recitatif that I didn’t know what to do with myself when it was over. At the very end she talks about the snow falling and says “it was heavy now. I thought I’d better wait for the sand trucks before heading home” and I felt that I would too have to be waiting now to the extent that I was surprised to find myself not reliant on the characters’ parameters to leave. I forgot myself in this story. I love how the entire story is about this specific relationship so much so that when the narrator says “and who do you suppose was in line…” you know exactly who she’s going to be talking about. I also think Morison uses the character of Maggie so successfully to say all the things that Roberta and Twyla are not saying.
Good Country People by Flannery O’Connor:
This story uses its contemplative and descriptive beginning to subvert the reader’s expectations and yet maintains its tone throughout. It’s lesson in how to structure character’s around plot beats, with character’s and their demeanors serving the story in the tone it has, and the plot beats giving the final story a meaning. The final reveal also serves the characters, letting the reader reflect on how they were able to be fooled, or conversely, how they view the world if they were able to see the twist coming. Character like Joy/Hulga contain depths that the reader isn’t able to see, until the last moment, and the same goes for Mrs. Freeman and Mrs. Hopewell. Part of what makes a compelling ending is showing what the reader knows about the characters in a new light.
I really liked Toni Morrison’ “Recitatif.” I thought that the way the narrator used perspectives was really interesting, how throughout the story she goes from speaking from the perspective of a child to one of an adult, but the shifts in time feel very natural. It’s also really interesting to watch how her thinking about the events that happened in her childhood changes (and in some cases are forcibly changed) once she gets older. I also think the way that Morrison illustrates the relationship between Twyla and Roberta, and the way that that also changes over time, was really compelling. As a reader, it was both frustrating and exhilarating to go back and forth between liking and disliking Roberta. And in the end, the ambiguous ending leaves the reader (at least personally) with mixed thoughts and feelings about Roberta. The complexity of the experiences that the narrator went through and the relationship she has with Roberta were really compelling and I appreciated the progression and changes to these concepts throughout the story.
Tall Tales from the Mekong Delta:
Throughout this piece, I could sense the tension between the two characters. The woman is very uncomfortable about the actions of the man, especially when he doesn’t stop. However, though she initially speaks her mind when he makes her uncomfortable, she eventually gives in to most of his requests. It is surprising to me how she continues to allow the man to obsess over her instead of trying to distance herself or involve the authorities. How he acts toward her is very creepy, yet she calmly follows his lead throughout the whole story. I found this compliance strange because I could sense the woman’s underlying discomfort when the man was around. This all made me wonder if these ideas/themes have something to do with the message the author is trying to convey through their writing.
Kate Braverman’s “Tall Tales from the Mekong Delta” takes an unconventional approach to protagonist agency that really stuck out to me. When I write a narrative, I’m often told that my protagonists are too passive– things happen TO them (but I’d argue this is rather true to life!). In Braverman’s piece, it’s remarkable how little the protagonist actually does. Everything is enacted on her by Lenny; she is repeatedly dragged places and spoken to. She rarely seems to actually enjoy these experiences, nor does she become uncomfortable enough to get up and leave the situation. Things just happen to her. At different moments, she reflects “it does not occur to you that you can move” and “it was almost impossible to talk.” Of course, her lack of action is by design, and ultimately works well with the story’s overarching theme of addiction.
I was really interested in the language for Squandering in Blue. The short sentences that surround the piece create a claustrophobic energy perfect for the tone of the piece, but also helped me understand the importance of sentence variety when this isn’t the tone you are looking for. The short, simple sentences created a sense of panic in me immediately, doubled by the actions that are occurring. It is interesting that these short sentences are also present in the dialogue from the stalker of the piece through his direct manner and from the protagonist who is hallow in response. When the piece chose to include longer sentences, it felt like a needed reprieve that didn’t last long. I am interested in how I can use sentence length in my own piece to convey an energy that I am looking for. This piece made me want to make sure that my fiction is as tonally consistent, and that I am utilizing more than just words to produce meaning.
Toni Morrison’s short fiction work “Recitatif” struck me particularly with how it actively avoided providing the reader clarity and closure. Morrison makes it clear to us at the start of the work that Twyla and Roberta are different races, but throughout the whole text she never makes it clear which girl is which race. Twyla’s experience with having her memory of Maggie shifted after Roberta describes Maggie as black places the two central characters in the same position as the readers, making them both doubt their memories and interpretation of their life as they grapple with the fact that they can’t remember Maggie’s race or what happened to her clearly. The work itself even ends with Roberta, crying, posing the question of “Twyla. Shit, shit, shit. What the hell happened to Maggie?” Morrison effectively has her character’s confusion parallel that of her reader’s, creating a reading experience in which readers find themselves going through the same steps and feelings as her characters in a way. By removing all racial codes from not just the narrative but also from Twyla and Roberta’s memories Morrison creates a story that deeply engages and immerses readers and forces them to try and understand their own biases and assumptions as they consider the races of Twyla, Roberta, and Maggie and as they consider whether knowing each character’s race is even important to the story. Ending with Roberta’s questions ensures that readers will leave “Recitatif” grappling with and reflecting on their own related questions. I find myself inspired by Morrison’s use of ambiguity and the ways in which she avoids giving reader’s clarity and closure and I hope to explore similar methods in my own fictional works.
When I read the pieces for this week, a persistent wonder I had was why Carver chose Nick as his first-person narrator. Mel has the most to say; he and Terri do most of the talking in the short story, while Nick and Laura mostly ask questions to prompt the conversation forward. Terri has the most connection to Ed, who is a major topic of conversation, and once the thread moves on, it is to Mel’s cardiology work. Either of them would make, in my head, a more obvious narrator, since they have more concrete emotional ties to the topics. My guess would be that most authors would make one of them narrate, to be in their head and follow their internal reactions to the conversation. The fact that Carver made Nick the narrator made me think more about the themes and intentions of the piece and find deeper insights into the distance and degrees of separation that Nick enforces as a narrator onto his friends’ stories. This story, for me, was a study in author intention and the varied influences that different narrators have on the same scene.
My favorite piece from this selection was ‘Girl’ by Jamaica Kincaid. I enjoyed how the piece lacked a typical sentence structure but it did not lack flow, some excellent uses of repetition connected the piece in its entirety for me. I also found the message of this piece the most clear and compelling for me, it felt relatable and was easy to understand without directly saying ‘The message of this piece is…’ I also think this message gave us a good idea of how the author was raised and the period in which they are writing about.
This week I really focused on What We Talk About When We Talk About Love by Raymond Carver. This is the second piece of his that I’ve read. I really like his tone because to me it seems so real, almost like I’m in his thoughts with him. This piece really reminded me of how people who have not been in a domestic violence situation don’t understand it. The victim almost always feels like what they’re experiencing is love and this is no fault of their own. It is the strategy of the abuser. They start off by isolating the target from their support system. That way, they aren’t around to tell them that these behaviors are red flags. Further, the victim begins to feel like the abuser is the only one around them. Love necessitates revisitation as the podcast last week discussed. So, when you are mainly around just one person you might start to feel like they are the person that loves you most and since your support system is withered down, there is nobody to dispel this false narrative. It turns into a “well he or she loves me so intensely that they threatened ___ because they want me that much.” It’s a really bad place to be stuck in and it’s extremely lonely. Even when you might be around a group of friends like Mel, you realize that nobody understands and they might be judgemental about your situation. You may even lose a lot of friends by being in an abusive relationship.
“Good Country People” is an interesting story because it follows the generalizations of people who live in the South. One of the prime examples of this is the Bible salesman. I could do more research on this question, but I wonder what connection the author has to these groups of people and if they created this story from personal experience or not. This makes me think about the possibilities for my fiction pieces. Some of it can be based on places or people I’ve interacted with because my personal experience will add detail to the story, but in other cases, it may be interesting to learn more about a group of people whom I don’t have a connection with or play on my lack of knowledge through another character.
Recitatif By Toni Morrison
I’m a Toni Morrison fan so I wasn’t surprised to really enjoy this story. I have always admired her ability to describe physical attributes as inanimate objects that aid the reader in conjuring exactly the image that fits the description. I found the time jumps to be so fluid and not jarring in the way other fiction pieces often are. Maybe because the story is always working itself back to childhood. I think about the name “Twyla” and how it is used as a transporter for the characters back to St. Bonny’s and being 8 years old. I also appreciated that the story gave us glimpses of Twyla’s life beyond Roberta but it never pulled focus for more than a paragraph before the heart of the story comes back.
I was so captivated by Morison’s Recitatif that I didn’t know what to do with myself when it was over. At the very end she talks about the snow falling and says “it was heavy now. I thought I’d better wait for the sand trucks before heading home” and I felt that I would too have to be waiting now to the extent that I was surprised to find myself not reliant on the characters’ parameters to leave. I forgot myself in this story. I love how the entire story is about this specific relationship so much so that when the narrator says “and who do you suppose was in line…” you know exactly who she’s going to be talking about. I also think Morison uses the character of Maggie so successfully to say all the things that Roberta and Twyla are not saying.
Good Country People by Flannery O’Connor:
This story uses its contemplative and descriptive beginning to subvert the reader’s expectations and yet maintains its tone throughout. It’s lesson in how to structure character’s around plot beats, with character’s and their demeanors serving the story in the tone it has, and the plot beats giving the final story a meaning. The final reveal also serves the characters, letting the reader reflect on how they were able to be fooled, or conversely, how they view the world if they were able to see the twist coming. Character like Joy/Hulga contain depths that the reader isn’t able to see, until the last moment, and the same goes for Mrs. Freeman and Mrs. Hopewell. Part of what makes a compelling ending is showing what the reader knows about the characters in a new light.
I really liked Toni Morrison’ “Recitatif.” I thought that the way the narrator used perspectives was really interesting, how throughout the story she goes from speaking from the perspective of a child to one of an adult, but the shifts in time feel very natural. It’s also really interesting to watch how her thinking about the events that happened in her childhood changes (and in some cases are forcibly changed) once she gets older. I also think the way that Morrison illustrates the relationship between Twyla and Roberta, and the way that that also changes over time, was really compelling. As a reader, it was both frustrating and exhilarating to go back and forth between liking and disliking Roberta. And in the end, the ambiguous ending leaves the reader (at least personally) with mixed thoughts and feelings about Roberta. The complexity of the experiences that the narrator went through and the relationship she has with Roberta were really compelling and I appreciated the progression and changes to these concepts throughout the story.
Tall Tales from the Mekong Delta:
Throughout this piece, I could sense the tension between the two characters. The woman is very uncomfortable about the actions of the man, especially when he doesn’t stop. However, though she initially speaks her mind when he makes her uncomfortable, she eventually gives in to most of his requests. It is surprising to me how she continues to allow the man to obsess over her instead of trying to distance herself or involve the authorities. How he acts toward her is very creepy, yet she calmly follows his lead throughout the whole story. I found this compliance strange because I could sense the woman’s underlying discomfort when the man was around. This all made me wonder if these ideas/themes have something to do with the message the author is trying to convey through their writing.
Kate Braverman’s “Tall Tales from the Mekong Delta” takes an unconventional approach to protagonist agency that really stuck out to me. When I write a narrative, I’m often told that my protagonists are too passive– things happen TO them (but I’d argue this is rather true to life!). In Braverman’s piece, it’s remarkable how little the protagonist actually does. Everything is enacted on her by Lenny; she is repeatedly dragged places and spoken to. She rarely seems to actually enjoy these experiences, nor does she become uncomfortable enough to get up and leave the situation. Things just happen to her. At different moments, she reflects “it does not occur to you that you can move” and “it was almost impossible to talk.” Of course, her lack of action is by design, and ultimately works well with the story’s overarching theme of addiction.
I was really interested in the language for Squandering in Blue. The short sentences that surround the piece create a claustrophobic energy perfect for the tone of the piece, but also helped me understand the importance of sentence variety when this isn’t the tone you are looking for. The short, simple sentences created a sense of panic in me immediately, doubled by the actions that are occurring. It is interesting that these short sentences are also present in the dialogue from the stalker of the piece through his direct manner and from the protagonist who is hallow in response. When the piece chose to include longer sentences, it felt like a needed reprieve that didn’t last long. I am interested in how I can use sentence length in my own piece to convey an energy that I am looking for. This piece made me want to make sure that my fiction is as tonally consistent, and that I am utilizing more than just words to produce meaning.
Toni Morrison’s short fiction work “Recitatif” struck me particularly with how it actively avoided providing the reader clarity and closure. Morrison makes it clear to us at the start of the work that Twyla and Roberta are different races, but throughout the whole text she never makes it clear which girl is which race. Twyla’s experience with having her memory of Maggie shifted after Roberta describes Maggie as black places the two central characters in the same position as the readers, making them both doubt their memories and interpretation of their life as they grapple with the fact that they can’t remember Maggie’s race or what happened to her clearly. The work itself even ends with Roberta, crying, posing the question of “Twyla. Shit, shit, shit. What the hell happened to Maggie?” Morrison effectively has her character’s confusion parallel that of her reader’s, creating a reading experience in which readers find themselves going through the same steps and feelings as her characters in a way. By removing all racial codes from not just the narrative but also from Twyla and Roberta’s memories Morrison creates a story that deeply engages and immerses readers and forces them to try and understand their own biases and assumptions as they consider the races of Twyla, Roberta, and Maggie and as they consider whether knowing each character’s race is even important to the story. Ending with Roberta’s questions ensures that readers will leave “Recitatif” grappling with and reflecting on their own related questions. I find myself inspired by Morrison’s use of ambiguity and the ways in which she avoids giving reader’s clarity and closure and I hope to explore similar methods in my own fictional works.
When I read the pieces for this week, a persistent wonder I had was why Carver chose Nick as his first-person narrator. Mel has the most to say; he and Terri do most of the talking in the short story, while Nick and Laura mostly ask questions to prompt the conversation forward. Terri has the most connection to Ed, who is a major topic of conversation, and once the thread moves on, it is to Mel’s cardiology work. Either of them would make, in my head, a more obvious narrator, since they have more concrete emotional ties to the topics. My guess would be that most authors would make one of them narrate, to be in their head and follow their internal reactions to the conversation. The fact that Carver made Nick the narrator made me think more about the themes and intentions of the piece and find deeper insights into the distance and degrees of separation that Nick enforces as a narrator onto his friends’ stories. This story, for me, was a study in author intention and the varied influences that different narrators have on the same scene.