This assignment was a little more different than the others. I listened to an album released in 2001 and, for the first time in an academic manner, analyzed a number of songs. Specifically, Wainwright is very good diversifying his songs, to arrange them in a way that tells a story, his story, about how he reacts to life and how life reacts to him. My favorite tune was Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk, and it seemed to hammer home the fact that the small things in life accumulate and affect us the must. I appreciated hearing ballads that weren’t about love, although that’s all I seem to write about. It’s funny because I have been writing songs for as long as I’ve been writing stories, and I never thought about how the two can marry. Indeed, you can spin a tale with lyrics and add your soul through the music and singing. An example of the would be a song I wrote that is on my ePortfolio called The City. In it, I talk about this imaginary girl that lives in New York City that I will find myself next to someday. I think both songs and stories need the songwriter or author to dream, and to project those dreams into a format that they can share.
Category: Journals
This short story by Mary Gaitskill through a curve ball I did not see coming. A simple conversation between two strangers on an airplane becomes someone’s shocking confession. The delivery was unexpected, but Gaitskill paced it so well and hinted at it continuously so that the punch was that much more forceful. For a writer’s standpoint, if I were to craft a story surrounding that sort of confession, I would pay attention to where it is happening and the consequences of the setting, as well as its limitations. I thought the airplane was perfect, for it gave a reason for the two characters to meet and interact (because they have no where else to go and nothing else to do), and when the confession is uttered, the reality that the woman can not escape this man is chilling. Setting is so important and can usher in huge metaphorical and emotional impacts. There were limitations, however. Because of the environment of the airplane, Gaitskill must contain her characters. There is little physical movement and thus less change can occur. I believe that if this was set in a place that required the attendance of the two people but allowed more physical movement, we would see more change.
As someone who works in an emergency room, I relate to this story heavily. I am very much an orderly in the department, and this story follows one and demonstrates what happens when the desire to help and the incapacity to do so (due to ignorance, inexperience, or lack of sobriety). Perhaps its my view, but this story seems to wrestle with competency. Would you allow someone who is qualified but hesitant to help you or someone who is quite the opposite? This can be seen in both Georgie and the narrator, whose qualifications are as uneasy as his concept of reality. What I’ve noticed with Johnson is that he is very good playing with the reader’s intuitive need to trust the protagonist. An untrustworthy protagonist, someone you share eyes with, makes for a nail-biting read, even if the plot is absent of thrill. I guess the opposite can be said for people who come into the emergency room (or kids who hitchhike). There is an immediate distrust in these people. Why is it that we trust our protagonist so easily? Is it because we have no choice but to do so? Or is it because we find the need to trust someone over ourselves?
The Swimmer follows the story of Neddy, a man who is the resident of an affluent neighborhood. Having drinks poolside, he decides to make his way home, swimming through every pool on his journey. At first, they story appears to capture a moment of drunken fun. However, as Neddy interacts with his neighbors and the owners of each pool, it becomes clear that Neddy has gone through some trouble in his life. It is unclear what the trouble is exactly, but we see his situation at the end of the story, when he gets home to see his wife and kids are not there and the doors are locked.
My first take away from this story was how easily it embodied the midlife crisis. The character starts happy, at his baseline, and then goes on a journey home, which can either be perceived as him running away from his reality, physically by going from home to home and drinking, or running towards reality. I thought the incorporation of the pools was also interesting, because it seemed to symbolize Neddy’s need to “water down” his situation, or to cleanse and wash away whatever has happened. Drinking further impedes his ability to come to terms with this.
The reader is never told the actual misfortune that has plagued Neddy. There is a hint given when we are brought to Neddy’s old mistress’s house, which I found to be an interesting choice. If he is trying to get home, why stop there? It felt like more of a plot device than a catalyst for character change.
I admired the passage of time in this story and the detail about the colored leaves. It made it clear that we were not just traveling through the neighborhood, but also through time. Neddy is aging through this process, or perhaps he has always been older, but as he comes closer to reality, we see his true age.
This short story follows the recovery of two alcoholics, the unnamed narrator and a man named J.P. Via the narrator, the reader is able to learn why the two men are there and, again, their relationships with the woman in their life. Saying this, the first thing that I noticed was the narrator’s telling of J.P.’s story. He asks for it in real time, why he is at Frank Martin’s, and relays the message to use for him. We don’t get to talk with J.P. directly. It is only through the narrator that we get to see J.P. I may be biased, but I have personally seen alcohol withdrawal and know that one of the symptoms is hallucinations. I am not denying that J.P. exists, but suggesting that, again, we are getting an unreliable narrator.
Another thing that stuck out to me was the amount of information that Carver withheld. I still had many questions at the end of the story, but in my second reading, I paid more attention to what he was sharing and why. It gave scenes like those with the well and the chimney sweep more meaning. It also made the story more intense, and made me want to keep reading. However, the amount I was given did not feel satisfactory. However, because this is part of a collection, most likely, if I were to read the other stories, I would learn more about the narrator, perhaps even his name, and the relationship he has with his wife and his lover.
This short story follows a heroin addict who decides to participate in a honest day’s work with his bartender friend. I took a few things away from reading it. Firstly, I admired how candid Johnson was during the preface, when he said that this story, like others he has written, were not written, but rather “written down.” I feel as though I carry stories like that as well, one’s that I share over a drink or when I’m sitting next to somebody new. Writing like this already allows for a truth for the reader to feed on.
I’m not sure if this is so for his other stories, but his incorporation of a unreliable narrator is subtle and smooth. I’ve read stories where it seems as though the author is bending over backwards to have their readers foster distrust in the narrator. But by using a drug addict, someone society has already deemed unreliable, as this figure, it keeps me on edge without needing to write another word.
Lastly, Johnson’s view on women in the story is very interesting. He comes to this paradox where women are both caregivers and the receivers of violence. They become objects of admiration and violence when it is convenient and then, in the same instance, give him booze and care for him. He talks about this issue so intimately, I wonder if Johnson came into contact with it in his personal life. I want to write of such personal things.
