Savich and Prevallet

Savich
In Zach Savich's Crumbling Expectations, he talks about a book his father had tried to write by the same name. It was to be about the owner of a resort that was crumbling into the lake. But, he had to stop writing it due to having to recover from cancer. In this way, his father's book is the resort - he had hoped to write this novel, but, just as the resort did, it crumbled under the weight of an unfortunate event. Savich later states "I didn't realize a book is itself an embrace." Books are indeed an "embrace" - they are a comfort, something we can relate to. They are everything we are and everything we want to be.

Prevallet

In Kristin Prevallet's Mythology and Homonym, I most thoroughly enjoyed the play on words. For example, "I" and "eye" were compared. Essentially, there were always two words that looked different but sounded the same. They are words that sound exactly alike, but hold entirely different meanings. I thought this was an interesting choice for her to make.

Essay Packet 1

Creative essays are often described as having both the elements of poetry and prose. In our essay packet 1, there are several examples of this. One example is the first segment of Halls of Fame by John D'Agata. In this section, there isn't a plot; there aren't characters. Instead, there are what seem to be stanzas; the section looks more like a poem than any kind of "essay".

On the other hand, Annie Dillard's Total Eclipse shows more characteristics of the prose side of creative essays. There are settings, characters, and plot. This essay also represents creative essays in that it seems to consist mainly of memories. Most creative essays are narrated versions of the author's childhood.

Both of these essays from our first packet show many of the characteristics of creative essays, including the poetry/prose ideas and the fact that they incorporate the authors' memories.

In "Say Cheese", a section of Bernard Cooper's Maps To Anywhere, he discusses the idea of photography. How photography, above all else, has survived through many years. Decades. Why?

Perhaps it is the need to remember and be remembered - photos allows us to immortalize ourselves forever more. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," they say, and it's true. While we may die, pictures last forever. And perhaps this caters to a desire to live forever or to be forever remembered; we want future people to look back at photos and see us and know we existed.

Photography is also displayed as a connection between peoples - it is used all over the world. People in all kinds of countries utilize photography or, at the least, know what it is. Everybody shares this desire to turn our memories into something tangible so we can hold onto them forever.

Maps to Anywhere

In class we have been discussing the idea of the creative essay. Something real told in the form of fiction, with immense detail and imagery. The stories are memories of the authors - they are real, they are things that you can't make up.

Bernard Cooper's Maps to Anywhere is like that. In my mind, the book is merely a series of creative essays - each one with its own title and story. My current favorite is By Any Other Name. This section tells of Cooper's childhood shenanigans with his friends, in which they would prank call names they found in the phonebook. Cooper discusses their obsession with syntax and alliteration - says they were more "poets than pranksters". This, I think, is true of all people. Language is the root of everything - we get a thrill from words being arranged a certain way. Some words sound funny, some sound serious. Most jokes are told with language in mind - there's always a pun or a twisting of words. We are human, and I think humans are poets above all else - even if they don't realize it.

Goldberg: Claim Your Writing

In Goldberg's Writing Down the Bones, there is a section on claiming your writing. In the first part, entitled Use Loneliness, she discusses literally using your own loneliness to write. She suggests writing with the purpose of connecting to another human being - and I find that to be good advice. Oftentimes we think that writing is therapeutic if we only write it for ourselves - but are we truly getting it out of us if no one else is reading it? Similarly, if we have certain feelings, we won't be rid of them unless we talk to someone about them. There is no release, no catharsis, if no one is there to listen.


In another part called A Story Circle, Goldberg suggests getting some friends together and having a writing circle, where you suggest a prompt such as "tell us a story you love to tell," and write about it. I really like this idea, and plan to utilize it in the future. Also in this segment, Goldberg says to "write how you talk, nothing fancy." I feel that this is important, as the stories I enjoy most are the ones written in a believable voice. The ones written in a voice I can relate to, casual and real. I think that is an important piece of advice.

The Singing Fish

In our third fiction packet, we received a few excerpts from The Singing Fish by Peter Markus. In each of these excerpts, there is a different, surreal narrative. Each narrative describes a different situation, but always involves "us brothers," a term the narrator uses more than the term "I".  These narratives all have a "creation myth" feel to them; that is to say, they are all reminiscent of Native American creation myths. The type of language, simple and straightforward, along with the different stories, such as the story about creating "Girl", all point to this.

In my opinion, the second to last excerpt, also entitled The Singing Fish, describes the evolution of man and language. The narrative describes "made out of mud walls with these things - words - written on them." The narrator goes on to say "We close our eyes and let our hands do this seeing. This is what they see. They see mud and fish and river. ..... they become bones. No, they are fingers. No, no, they then become: tongues. No, look again: they become fish." To me, this signifies the creation of language. It is a description of how man came to communicate certain things to one another. To me, this is a description of how drawings on mud-caked walls first became words.

The Falling Girl

Dino Buzzati's The Falling Girl is a strange, surreal tale. It depicts, sure enough, the journey of a girl named Marta as she falls from a sky scraper.

I interpreted this story as a representation of young people who want to grow up too fast. In the beginning of the tale, the girl is eager, self-assured. She often tells the people she passes on the way down that she can't talk, she's in a hurry. Meanwhile, the ground always seems very far away. This is much like life, especially for young people: we want to grow up fast. We can see the future, but it seems too far away.

"Down there opportunity was waiting for her, fate, romance, the true inauguration of her life." We always imagine what our lives will be like as adults; we hope for the best, for a family, a grand life. This is symbolized by the "party" Marta is trying to get to in such a hurry.

The closer Marta gets to the party at the bottom, however, the more she seems to regret her decision. "Marta now felt a tremor growing inside her; perhaps it was just the cold; but it may have been fear too; the fear of having made an error without remedy." Here we see the point where Marta begins to realize that there's no turning back; that she skipped all of her life just to wind up late to the party. In other words, she wasted her life trying to grow up; trying to reach the future.

I suppose the moral of the story would be this; live in the moment. Don't go through life looking to the future, or trying to get there faster. Slow down, because there's no turning back now.