North and South is full of upheaval. The main character, Margaret Hale, is the teenaged daughter of a vicar who decides he can’t be a vicar anymore and leaves the church. The family moves from a lovely, sleepy village in the south of England to a polluted industrial town in the north, where Mr. Hale starts working as a tutor, meaning that he and his family slide down in social rank. In the coming months, Margaret struggles to understand a new culture, suffers the deaths of people close to her, and meets John Thornton, a young industrialist who initially inspires distaste. By the time he stops being so distasteful, there are enough misunderstandings and intervening events to keep them apart for a while.
The novel’s upheavals also come from the cotton mills of England’s Industrial Revolution. Margaret is horrified to witness workers living in grinding poverty and dying from the cotton fluff they’ve inhaled. Hunger, rage, strikes, fluctuations in trade, wild speculations, and shifting, uncertain social positions are all a part of this northern town the Hales now live in.
Along with portraying some of these societal changes, the author, Elizabeth Gaskell, explores the personal changes as well. What does it mean to live well and be a good person within this brutal system? Mr. Thornton, for instance, seems to have two sides to him: the cold and calculating manufacturer, and the man who brings fruit to Margaret’s ill mother. By the end of the novel, he has taken some initial steps to forging a relationship with his workers that’s more cooperative and less antagonistic. The book isn’t sentimental about these changes – it’s not like they all become the best of friends and eliminate poverty and disease from the town. But the adjustments in perception and attitude are there, in part because of Margaret’s influence (some of his words later in the book echo hers from earlier on), and possibly because Thornton has been taking lessons from the gentle Mr. Hale. Also, because Thornton has the potential to change in these ways. He’s disposed to it, susceptible to these influences by virtue of his own character.
The nature of change, the influences that work on people’s character, aren’t always straightforward in this book. Margaret tries to do good and be dutiful, not always with success or consistency (which I like, because it’s more realistic than if she were a spotless angel free of all biases or lapses). At the start of the novel, both she and Thornton are, in their own ways, quite sure of themselves. Their presence in each other’s lives and the upheavals they go through work certain influences on them.
Thornton becomes more inclined to flexibility and compromise. He handles a devastating failure with great dignity (not that he’s free of turmoil, or frustration and dejection). He’s also utterly overcome with love, struck and possessed by love to an overwhelming extent. For much of the book, he has no hope that this love will give him happiness, only that by experiencing it he will become enriched.
Margaret has been a pillar to her family from the start. What primarily changes is her understanding of herself and her relation to others. Change for her doesn’t form a smooth path with clear epiphanies. She struggles. She sorts out her thoughts in solitude, something that isn’t easy for her to do, as she generally puts her family’s feelings before her own. The book shows her embracing hours of reflection and grief as a necessary way to order her thoughts and find peace (not necessarily happiness, just peace). Passivity and despondency become quiet resolve, with time, with effort. So much of that essential effort is unobserved by the world. Failure would mean an attempt to go back in time to previous conditions that are no longer recoverable. There is no going back. Those who try will stagnate; they might die.
Gaskell starkly portrays the psychological effects of change: hopelessness, loneliness, aimlessness, displacement, and fear, along with the possible delights of discovery and curiosity and receptivity to love. One of the reasons I enjoyed this novel is the way Gaskell lets each upheaval truly be an upheaval. It’s not that the characters are entirely helpless. But they are tossed around a lot. They form promising plans, only to find themselves suddenly short on time or opportunity to implement them. They may not know who to turn to for guidance (Margaret is often so alone in this respect). Sometimes they make momentous choices in a rush, under pressure; in a matter of seconds, they change the course of their lives, and may find plenty of time afterwards to regret and repent. Wisdom develops after the circumstances in which it was sorely needed, and there may be only a small chance of applying it in the future to similar situations.
I keep thinking about Margaret’s hours of solitude, when the soul is wrestling with life and with itself, and the outcome is uncertain. I like how the characters aren’t allowed to become complacent. Even the final lines, playful and loving as they are, point to a challenge Margaret and John will soon face: uncomprehending or disapproving relatives. The ‘happily ever after’ isn’t a promise of an untroubled life; it’s a life where they have a strong chance of facing the upheavals together, with mutual love and support.
I read this for the Classics Club Challenge.
Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Friday, July 27, 2018
Friday, May 26, 2017
Three visually beautiful movies
Title: 35 Shots of Rum (2008)
Director: Claire Denis
Language: French (and some German)
Rating: Unrated
35 Shots of Rum keeps the dialogue sparse and lets the camera linger on people's expressions and gestures, the light and shadow surrounding them. A widower, Lionel (Alex Descas), and his college-aged daughter, Josephine (Mati Diop) share a close, affectionate relationship, but they're each facing profound changes in their life. Lionel is approaching the age of retirement and watches a former colleague struggle with finding meaning in his life now that he no longer works. Josephine, meanwhile, is in love with a neighbor. Lionel and Josephine are devoted to each other and comfortable sharing a home, but they know they won't keep living as they are indefinitely, and it's difficult to cope with.
There's a lot of visual beauty in this movie. Some of it geometric - trains traveling in the dark with their windows as squares of light, while the windows in buildings are lit rectangles. The play of light is wonderful too, like with the rails that glow in the afternoon or early evening. The combinations of color are also lovely - creams and coffee colors, grays and navy blues, with pops of red. (It reminded me of Edward Hopper paintings.)
And I like the movie's quiet emotions. The tenderness conveyed with few words between father and daughter. The regrets and disquiet, the closeness and loneliness.
Director: Claire Denis
Language: French (and some German)
Rating: Unrated
35 Shots of Rum keeps the dialogue sparse and lets the camera linger on people's expressions and gestures, the light and shadow surrounding them. A widower, Lionel (Alex Descas), and his college-aged daughter, Josephine (Mati Diop) share a close, affectionate relationship, but they're each facing profound changes in their life. Lionel is approaching the age of retirement and watches a former colleague struggle with finding meaning in his life now that he no longer works. Josephine, meanwhile, is in love with a neighbor. Lionel and Josephine are devoted to each other and comfortable sharing a home, but they know they won't keep living as they are indefinitely, and it's difficult to cope with.
There's a lot of visual beauty in this movie. Some of it geometric - trains traveling in the dark with their windows as squares of light, while the windows in buildings are lit rectangles. The play of light is wonderful too, like with the rails that glow in the afternoon or early evening. The combinations of color are also lovely - creams and coffee colors, grays and navy blues, with pops of red. (It reminded me of Edward Hopper paintings.)
And I like the movie's quiet emotions. The tenderness conveyed with few words between father and daughter. The regrets and disquiet, the closeness and loneliness.
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
Three Short Stories Featuring Gardens
Title: Broken Glass
Author: Sabina Murray
Where I Read It: Manila Noir
Angela goes out to play on her aunt's property. Along with clear paths she can easily follow, there are also sections - especially farther from the house - that remain overgrown and untended. She encounters different domestic employees who, like the gardens, give her safe assurances mixed with hints of danger. They're obliged to treat Angela well, but they also refer to dark things that Angela is too young and sheltered to understand. By the end of the story, she's a little less sheltered, and her safety feels more precarious. I like how the author shows the subtle destabilizing shift in the girl's life.
Title: The Flower Garden
Author: David Guterson
Where I Read It: The Garden of Reading
A teenaged boy is torn between two dreams: continuing to be with a girl he loves, and playing baseball. He feels the intense promise of both. He helps the girl with her garden, and when he's with her there, he believes their love will last forever. But then he heads to baseball practice, and the girl feels less real to him than the dream of trying out for a professional team.
The story starts in a golden haze of summer, when he's 17-years-old and eyed with wistfulness and nostalgia by the old people in his neighborhood. He's a world apart from these older people, though by the story's end he's taken a significant step towards them, with his young dreams crumbling. At one point, in winter this time, he revisits the garden. The story seems to ask whether a relationship (or someone's dreams) can survive that killing blast of winter, whether there's enough faith in spring and renewal.
Title: The Garden of Time
Author: J.G. Ballard (James Graham Ballard)
Where I Read It: The Garden of Reading
A husband and wife live in an elegant estate with beautiful gardens. On the horizon, a horde of people approach. The husband slips into the garden and plucks a blossom off a special kind of flower. The horde falls back. Every time they get closer, he picks another blossom. Each blossom stops time, for a short while. The horde can't overrun the estate, tearing it apart, as long as there are enough of these special flowers in the garden. There's a sense that the aristocratic couple live in a magic bubble of time, and that the horde outside inhabits a different time altogether. Soon, the aristocrats will run out of flowers, their bubble will burst, and the life they've cultivated in it will end once and for all.
This husband and wife face each day with resolution, going about their lovely routines, even when they know their efforts are futile. The story's poignancy comes from the desire to see that beautiful bubble stretch out for longer. But they can't stop time and forever live as if threats to their way of life don't exist. The most they can enjoy is a temporary reprieve. No new flowers are growing in their garden. It isn't a fruitful place. As beautiful as it is, it may also be stagnant. There is no permanence compatible with mortal life, and any change, whether it's considered good or not, goes hand-in-hand with destruction of some kind. The husband and wife can see no way to either directly confront the horde or adapt to any of the changes coming. The state of permanence they achieve in the end is a frozenness without possibility of growth; they're still beyond reach from the horde, but their time is past. They can only exist as reminders for people who care to look closely.
Author: Sabina Murray
Where I Read It: Manila Noir
"Now you go play, and when you think you know what happened to that man, the one that flew straight down, you come and tell us, okay?"In "Broken Glass," a huge backyard, some of it laid out in neat gardens, other parts of it wilder, reflects the characters' social terrain. A young girl named Angela lives in a walled-off wealthy neighborhood in Manila. On a visit to her aunt's home, she hears her mom and aunts discussing an attempted break-in the night before. A security guard apparently shot the intruder as he was scaling a perimeter wall, but it isn't clear where the body is.
Angela goes out to play on her aunt's property. Along with clear paths she can easily follow, there are also sections - especially farther from the house - that remain overgrown and untended. She encounters different domestic employees who, like the gardens, give her safe assurances mixed with hints of danger. They're obliged to treat Angela well, but they also refer to dark things that Angela is too young and sheltered to understand. By the end of the story, she's a little less sheltered, and her safety feels more precarious. I like how the author shows the subtle destabilizing shift in the girl's life.
Title: The Flower Garden
Author: David Guterson
Where I Read It: The Garden of Reading
A teenaged boy is torn between two dreams: continuing to be with a girl he loves, and playing baseball. He feels the intense promise of both. He helps the girl with her garden, and when he's with her there, he believes their love will last forever. But then he heads to baseball practice, and the girl feels less real to him than the dream of trying out for a professional team.
The story starts in a golden haze of summer, when he's 17-years-old and eyed with wistfulness and nostalgia by the old people in his neighborhood. He's a world apart from these older people, though by the story's end he's taken a significant step towards them, with his young dreams crumbling. At one point, in winter this time, he revisits the garden. The story seems to ask whether a relationship (or someone's dreams) can survive that killing blast of winter, whether there's enough faith in spring and renewal.
Title: The Garden of Time
Author: J.G. Ballard (James Graham Ballard)
Where I Read It: The Garden of Reading
A husband and wife live in an elegant estate with beautiful gardens. On the horizon, a horde of people approach. The husband slips into the garden and plucks a blossom off a special kind of flower. The horde falls back. Every time they get closer, he picks another blossom. Each blossom stops time, for a short while. The horde can't overrun the estate, tearing it apart, as long as there are enough of these special flowers in the garden. There's a sense that the aristocratic couple live in a magic bubble of time, and that the horde outside inhabits a different time altogether. Soon, the aristocrats will run out of flowers, their bubble will burst, and the life they've cultivated in it will end once and for all.
This husband and wife face each day with resolution, going about their lovely routines, even when they know their efforts are futile. The story's poignancy comes from the desire to see that beautiful bubble stretch out for longer. But they can't stop time and forever live as if threats to their way of life don't exist. The most they can enjoy is a temporary reprieve. No new flowers are growing in their garden. It isn't a fruitful place. As beautiful as it is, it may also be stagnant. There is no permanence compatible with mortal life, and any change, whether it's considered good or not, goes hand-in-hand with destruction of some kind. The husband and wife can see no way to either directly confront the horde or adapt to any of the changes coming. The state of permanence they achieve in the end is a frozenness without possibility of growth; they're still beyond reach from the horde, but their time is past. They can only exist as reminders for people who care to look closely.
Sunday, February 28, 2016
Eight Short Stories About Divorce or Separation
Title: Access to the Children
Author: William Trevor
Where I Read It: Dumped
"Access to the Children" is primarily a story of regret and delusion. The main character had an affair and left his wife and kids. After his lover leaves him, he becomes desperate for what he gave up. He sees his kids every Sunday, but throughout the story there's little sense that he knows them. He's taken to drinking heavily and settling them in front of a TV until it's time to take them home.
What he clings to is the hope that his ex-wife will forgive him and take him back. He insists that this will happen; he's even predicted a date for it. Meantime, he drinks. His alcoholism simultaneously fuels his delusions and serves as proof that he's deluded. His complete self-destruction isn't inevitable, but it's likely. And though the story doesn't show him lashing out violently at anyone, it remains a possibility, a deep unease stirred up by the thoughts of a destructive man.
Title: Amor Divino
Author: Julia Alvarez
Where I Read It: The Art of the Story
The main character, Yolanda, is going through a divorce while living near her grandpa, who has dementia. She is one of several Yolandas in her family, including her grandpa's late wife. Stories run in parallel in "Amor Divino" - the young Yolanda and her soon-to-be-ex-husband, and her grandma, Yolanda, and her grandpa, with their love that was legendary in the family (though the image of their famous love fractured when her grandma fell ill and railed bitterly out of her illness at the end of her life).
Love manifests in unexpected moments, sometimes when there's desperation for it, a need to see it realized a certain way. In this story it feels like a narrow stream that disappears for long stretches underground and surfaces, from time to time, in brilliant, harsh light.
Author: William Trevor
Where I Read It: Dumped
"Access to the Children" is primarily a story of regret and delusion. The main character had an affair and left his wife and kids. After his lover leaves him, he becomes desperate for what he gave up. He sees his kids every Sunday, but throughout the story there's little sense that he knows them. He's taken to drinking heavily and settling them in front of a TV until it's time to take them home.
What he clings to is the hope that his ex-wife will forgive him and take him back. He insists that this will happen; he's even predicted a date for it. Meantime, he drinks. His alcoholism simultaneously fuels his delusions and serves as proof that he's deluded. His complete self-destruction isn't inevitable, but it's likely. And though the story doesn't show him lashing out violently at anyone, it remains a possibility, a deep unease stirred up by the thoughts of a destructive man.
Title: Amor Divino
Author: Julia Alvarez
Where I Read It: The Art of the Story
The main character, Yolanda, is going through a divorce while living near her grandpa, who has dementia. She is one of several Yolandas in her family, including her grandpa's late wife. Stories run in parallel in "Amor Divino" - the young Yolanda and her soon-to-be-ex-husband, and her grandma, Yolanda, and her grandpa, with their love that was legendary in the family (though the image of their famous love fractured when her grandma fell ill and railed bitterly out of her illness at the end of her life).
Love manifests in unexpected moments, sometimes when there's desperation for it, a need to see it realized a certain way. In this story it feels like a narrow stream that disappears for long stretches underground and surfaces, from time to time, in brilliant, harsh light.
Friday, February 7, 2014
Week in Seven Words #200 and #201
#200
counterpoise
The closeness to others is beautiful, as is the possibility of finding space to be on your own when you need it.
fantastic
Their Lego city is imaginative. Castles, modified Hobbit homes, and modern shopping plazas with headless mannequins, all on the same street. City residents get around on zip lines and in horse-drawn carriages. Nothing has developed in exact accordance with the instructions in each Lego box.
keep
A laden table, a lawn in the dark, lights at the window.
plotting
I hope she doesn't lose her desire to fill up notebook pages with characters and ideas.
springy
Tigger, bouncing around the Hundred Acre Wood, entrances him. As we watch, he turns to me with a slow smile, pleased to see that I'm also enjoying his favorite cartoon character.
unwind
When she finds someone who listens, she talks until she's breathless - thoughts, dreams, books read, plans for the coming days and weeks.
unyielding
I'm not surprised that she doesn't try one of the burgers; maybe it would be too much of a concession.
counterpoise
The closeness to others is beautiful, as is the possibility of finding space to be on your own when you need it.
fantastic
Their Lego city is imaginative. Castles, modified Hobbit homes, and modern shopping plazas with headless mannequins, all on the same street. City residents get around on zip lines and in horse-drawn carriages. Nothing has developed in exact accordance with the instructions in each Lego box.
keep
A laden table, a lawn in the dark, lights at the window.
plotting
I hope she doesn't lose her desire to fill up notebook pages with characters and ideas.
springy
Tigger, bouncing around the Hundred Acre Wood, entrances him. As we watch, he turns to me with a slow smile, pleased to see that I'm also enjoying his favorite cartoon character.
unwind
When she finds someone who listens, she talks until she's breathless - thoughts, dreams, books read, plans for the coming days and weeks.
unyielding
I'm not surprised that she doesn't try one of the burgers; maybe it would be too much of a concession.
Friday, March 1, 2013
Week in Seven Words #157 - #160 (28 word catch-up post)
I'm sorry I was away for a while. I took a break from blogging, and it wasn't planned. Some changes in my schedule, new work, and - just this past week - a vacation I'll be telling you about soon, kept my attention away from the blog. So now there's a backlog of "week in seven words" posts.
This is going to be a mega post of week in seven words. Four weeks' worth. After this, I plan to go back to posting one set per week.
This is going to be a mega post of week in seven words. Four weeks' worth. After this, I plan to go back to posting one set per week.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Week in Seven Words #142
effusive
She talks without pause about books, school, computers, e-readers, clothes, and soccer, and apologizes (unnecessarily) for talking too much, even as she tells her younger sister not to interrupt her.
faded
The trees are dusted with yellow and pale orange, and the shadows are long as we stand together beside the remains of a picnic. Most people have left, except for a businessman who tells us about his mystical healing powers.
germinal
I don't think it's best for me to stay in my current home for more than a year or two. We'll see.
soured
In the car, an atmosphere of rancor and brokenness.
strands
His speech is made up of several beautiful threads that don't get tied together.
synergistic
Seared tuna with avocado and mango. The ingredients separately don't move me one way or another, but together they're bliss.
tapped
He looks away at one point, tears in his eyes, as he asks for advice. My voice sounds stronger and wiser than I am; the words emerge from a place that's deeper than the surface pettiness and worries in my life. But I don't know if any long-term good will come of this conversation.
She talks without pause about books, school, computers, e-readers, clothes, and soccer, and apologizes (unnecessarily) for talking too much, even as she tells her younger sister not to interrupt her.
faded
The trees are dusted with yellow and pale orange, and the shadows are long as we stand together beside the remains of a picnic. Most people have left, except for a businessman who tells us about his mystical healing powers.
germinal
I don't think it's best for me to stay in my current home for more than a year or two. We'll see.
soured
In the car, an atmosphere of rancor and brokenness.
strands
His speech is made up of several beautiful threads that don't get tied together.
synergistic
Seared tuna with avocado and mango. The ingredients separately don't move me one way or another, but together they're bliss.
tapped
He looks away at one point, tears in his eyes, as he asks for advice. My voice sounds stronger and wiser than I am; the words emerge from a place that's deeper than the surface pettiness and worries in my life. But I don't know if any long-term good will come of this conversation.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Week in Seven Words #139
distinct
They're identical twins in platform shoes and airy skirts, wearing jewelry with mystical designs. If I had to guess their age I'd say they're in their 50s, but they carry themselves like much younger women, brushing back the hair from their face and perching bird-like on their seats during the Kol Nidre service on the eve of Yom Kippur. I don't even know them but I have a feeling they're pretty awesome.
distracting
On Saturday afternoon a little girl, maybe three or four, shows up to synagogue wearing shoes with built-in squeakers. Every time she takes a step they let out a loud high chirpy noise. Two questions cross my mind as I try to concentrate on praying: 1) Why would you have your child wear shoes like that to synagogue? 2) Why would you buy shoes like that to begin with? Children are already experts at making noise; they don't need your help.
matrimony
The first married couple: man and woman stand apart and discuss the pains in their legs and whether there will be rain later in the evening. The second married couple: man and woman sit on a bench, hold hands and say nothing.
mums
The orange-yellow mums in the flower pot by the window look like a multi-faceted sea creature, small insects swimming in and out of it.
receptive
Towards the end of the fast on Yom Kippur I'm mellow. During the short afternoon break between synagogue services I sit in a nearby park, where my mind throws open its doors and says, "Welcome world," to the trees, the passing cars and pedestrians.
summation
He speaks eloquently, but his story would have been more powerful had he not ended it with a request for money.
teshuva (תשובה)
The Hebrew word for 'repentance' is teshuva, which means 'return.' You've gone off course and now it's time to come back. Teshuva is important all year round but is especially emphasized in the 10 days spanning from Rosh Hashanah to Yom Kippur. On Sunday we go out to lunch, mindful of what happened last month. But unlike last month there are no fights this time, no recriminations that ruin our plans.
They're identical twins in platform shoes and airy skirts, wearing jewelry with mystical designs. If I had to guess their age I'd say they're in their 50s, but they carry themselves like much younger women, brushing back the hair from their face and perching bird-like on their seats during the Kol Nidre service on the eve of Yom Kippur. I don't even know them but I have a feeling they're pretty awesome.
distracting
On Saturday afternoon a little girl, maybe three or four, shows up to synagogue wearing shoes with built-in squeakers. Every time she takes a step they let out a loud high chirpy noise. Two questions cross my mind as I try to concentrate on praying: 1) Why would you have your child wear shoes like that to synagogue? 2) Why would you buy shoes like that to begin with? Children are already experts at making noise; they don't need your help.
matrimony
The first married couple: man and woman stand apart and discuss the pains in their legs and whether there will be rain later in the evening. The second married couple: man and woman sit on a bench, hold hands and say nothing.
mums
The orange-yellow mums in the flower pot by the window look like a multi-faceted sea creature, small insects swimming in and out of it.
receptive
Towards the end of the fast on Yom Kippur I'm mellow. During the short afternoon break between synagogue services I sit in a nearby park, where my mind throws open its doors and says, "Welcome world," to the trees, the passing cars and pedestrians.
summation
He speaks eloquently, but his story would have been more powerful had he not ended it with a request for money.
teshuva (תשובה)
The Hebrew word for 'repentance' is teshuva, which means 'return.' You've gone off course and now it's time to come back. Teshuva is important all year round but is especially emphasized in the 10 days spanning from Rosh Hashanah to Yom Kippur. On Sunday we go out to lunch, mindful of what happened last month. But unlike last month there are no fights this time, no recriminations that ruin our plans.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Week in Seven Words #128
antsy
People shuffle between the express and local sides of the platform as the announcer makes a calm droning promise that a train is just one stop away.
confer
The little office where we work, with the utilitarian furniture and the crushed earwig on the wall, feels like a battle command room.
coverlet
All eyes on the little one as he tumbles among the blankets.
glimpsing
I like when older people suddenly become very young; the moment he stops watering the grass and springs after the soccer ball, I can see him as he was forty or fifty years ago.
miscellany
Shells and feathers, old birds' nests and flowers on a white wood shelf.
self-made
He's a self-proclaimed superhero and has made a little kit for himself complete with a badge and a book illustrating his many battles against monsters, robots, and supervillains. Most impressive to me is the way he carefully writes in the book, slowly spelling out words while sounding them out to himself. I'm so proud of him.
three-pointer
The hoop in the basketball court is way too high for him but he keeps aiming for it anyway. Not caring for once about the score, he has fun trying to steal the ball from me and laughs at how I bob around, shoes squeaking and arms waving wildly, as I mount an exaggerated but incompetent defense.
People shuffle between the express and local sides of the platform as the announcer makes a calm droning promise that a train is just one stop away.
confer
The little office where we work, with the utilitarian furniture and the crushed earwig on the wall, feels like a battle command room.
coverlet
All eyes on the little one as he tumbles among the blankets.
glimpsing
I like when older people suddenly become very young; the moment he stops watering the grass and springs after the soccer ball, I can see him as he was forty or fifty years ago.
miscellany
Shells and feathers, old birds' nests and flowers on a white wood shelf.
self-made
He's a self-proclaimed superhero and has made a little kit for himself complete with a badge and a book illustrating his many battles against monsters, robots, and supervillains. Most impressive to me is the way he carefully writes in the book, slowly spelling out words while sounding them out to himself. I'm so proud of him.
three-pointer
The hoop in the basketball court is way too high for him but he keeps aiming for it anyway. Not caring for once about the score, he has fun trying to steal the ball from me and laughs at how I bob around, shoes squeaking and arms waving wildly, as I mount an exaggerated but incompetent defense.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Week in Seven Words #81
glare
A flash of lightning fills up the window like an enraged eye peering into the room.
justification
It's the same situation with the same actors, but I describe it quite differently depending on the person I'm talking to.
manifest
Before leaving the library I drop my backpack on the sofa by the exit and start to rearrange its contents. That's when I see him wave hello from the other end of the room. He comes over, we talk, and the tightness in my chest eases. Sometimes a friend is there at the exact right moment, just when you need friendship most but don't hope for it or think to ask.
parabolic
The shape of the past few years resembles in some ways an inverted parabola, arcing up and then declining.
phrenic
Until the decision is made, it's difficult to breathe.
slops
The writing is ragged with indecision. A sluggish paragraph is cut through by a flash of insight all in capslocks, followed by a puddle of diluted thoughts that trickle off in ellipses.
treading
I look like I'm getting somewhere, typing and rifling through papers, but it's only an illusion of progress. Over time I grow tired and start to sink.
A flash of lightning fills up the window like an enraged eye peering into the room.
justification
It's the same situation with the same actors, but I describe it quite differently depending on the person I'm talking to.
manifest
Before leaving the library I drop my backpack on the sofa by the exit and start to rearrange its contents. That's when I see him wave hello from the other end of the room. He comes over, we talk, and the tightness in my chest eases. Sometimes a friend is there at the exact right moment, just when you need friendship most but don't hope for it or think to ask.
parabolic
The shape of the past few years resembles in some ways an inverted parabola, arcing up and then declining.
phrenic
Until the decision is made, it's difficult to breathe.
slops
The writing is ragged with indecision. A sluggish paragraph is cut through by a flash of insight all in capslocks, followed by a puddle of diluted thoughts that trickle off in ellipses.
treading
I look like I'm getting somewhere, typing and rifling through papers, but it's only an illusion of progress. Over time I grow tired and start to sink.
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