I once wrote a short story that only had one paragraph that I brought to a reading group. It was in a rough state with very little editing, just how I wrote it at the time. I even notified the others that I intended to polish it up and add paragraphs. I was amazed how that became the focus of criticism and also how many people had trouble reading it. I was partially inspired to leave it in that condition after reading this book. Seeing it in the library with the first page beginning on the cover got me intrigued. It reminded me of You Shall Know Us By Our Velocity by Dave Eggers. I found a copy and was charged with the freshness that permeates this novel. Again I am amazed why so many people talk about the difficulties of reading one long paragraph. I find it exciting when authors challenge the rules of the English Language. When you start reading it you find that there is no problem with it in the slightest. You forget about it and get used to it, kind of like reading subtitles to a foreign film. As you read you also find a complexity that would be absent in other "rule-bound" novels, which is how seamlessly Milward can connect ideas, whether they be related or not, together without allowing himself the use of a new paragraph. Like a literary magician he uses slight of hand to change subject, tense and even point of view. Throughout the book we float in a drug fueled fantasia from person to person, situation to situation; climbing a story on the rungs of swirling prose. This work is far from elegant or graceful; the grit can get into your teeth if your not careful. We are treated to the underside of society with all its drugs and theft, but unlike the black and white world of Film Noir this one is populated with bright colors and a feverish pace that will make you sweat and gasp for air. This is comparable to Darron Aronofsky's deeply excruciating 2000 film Requiem For A Dream in that it concerns four individuals that suffer their own personal form of addiction. The main difference being is the overall tone which is a great deal lighter than Requiem. Brightness seems to shine from every page and delivers an optimism surmounting the odds that the characters are facing. Even at the climax of the book-from where the namesake comes-the scene is terrible in a conventional sense but somehow the book retains a feeling as if everything will be okay. The book contains many funny moments but skimps on the poignant ones. There are no life-changing revelations to be gleaned here. The characters do have epiphanies but they are far from profound. However the question must be begged, does one need profundity in order for a revelation to be relevant? Perhaps common sense is not inherent and whatever we learn is new and important for the individual. Despite this the story does not suffer. It was a joy to read something new and something good from someone not named Egan, Franzen, Foer or Kingsolver. Not to crack on them, their talent far exceeds mine, it's just that their names have dominated literary media for several months. Richard Milward is no rookie, Ten Storey Love Song is his second novel, but his is far from veteran status. I hope to see more from him in the coming future. Richard, please don't keep us waiting.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
...
Just a few minutes ago I checked in. Not to check my comments, not even with the intent to write an new post but here I am. I was wanting to see if I could hunt down the date of a friend's birthday hoping that I hadn't missed it. But check my comments I did. On my latest post I found an anonymous post wishing that I return and write some more. I don't know what affected me more; the fact that it seemed like such a heart-felt plea or that it came from someone that I didn't know at all. It made me rethink how I've treated this place.
It's been a place where I can deposit my thoughts about the world around me. I built it so that I could talk about anything. It was about as random as I was. I mused about music, movies and strange occurrences that only I might notice. I had to look back at some of the posts to remember some of the things that inspired me to write. There are many good memories in there. But I took it for granted.
I took for granted that there were people that enjoyed reading the things that I wrote. In my defense there wasn't an indication that people read, few comments ever popped up. It was very easy to let it slide until I forgot about it completely. And for that I am sorry.
You there, anonymous. If you are reading this I am writing this for you. Sorry for letting you down. I hope you're reading this and feel good for inspiring someone. I'll do my best for keeping these posts coming on a regular basis. In the mean time just think of me as the Johnathan Franzen of Bloggers. It takes years for new material to come out but man, is it worth the wait.
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