Looks like I’m at another transition. Yesterday I finished the first chapter of Holleran's
Nights in Aruba and stopped reading
the book for now. The writing is beautiful but I'm wondering what is the
point, where is it going? Is it going anywhere?
Not much of anywhere in Chapter One. Right at the end he joins the Army, separating him from his parents. But this is around page 55. The first chapter runs 44 pages (preceded by a preface)! Over-long for me.
Whereas in Onyx by Picano—I stopped on page 75. We know that the narrator’s long-term partner is dying of AIDS, and the narrator has started an affair with a married man, with the knowledge of the narrator’s partner—but apparently not with the knowledge of the other man's wife.
I think both Holleran and Picano must have been reading Proust -- especially Holleran. Long sentences, long paragraphs, long chapters. Onyx contains only three chapters in something like 365 pages! That's comparable to what Proust did.
Holleran's sentences are beautiful, but they suspend you in a dreamy place somewhere—a lot of thinking and feeling and sensing, with not much happening.
Of course, I should talk—I'm a Wagnerian!
Not much of anywhere in Chapter One. Right at the end he joins the Army, separating him from his parents. But this is around page 55. The first chapter runs 44 pages (preceded by a preface)! Over-long for me.
Whereas in Onyx by Picano—I stopped on page 75. We know that the narrator’s long-term partner is dying of AIDS, and the narrator has started an affair with a married man, with the knowledge of the narrator’s partner—but apparently not with the knowledge of the other man's wife.
I think both Holleran and Picano must have been reading Proust -- especially Holleran. Long sentences, long paragraphs, long chapters. Onyx contains only three chapters in something like 365 pages! That's comparable to what Proust did.
Holleran's sentences are beautiful, but they suspend you in a dreamy place somewhere—a lot of thinking and feeling and sensing, with not much happening.
Of course, I should talk—I'm a Wagnerian!
# # #
Meanwhile, inspired by various South
American connections, I’ve returned to a travel book by Christopher Isherwood
from the late 1940s.
Isherwood says something I find wise in The Condor and the Cows. Talking
about Ecuador, Isherwood mentions that Ludwig Bemelmans had written a book to
show how much he loved Ecuador and the Ecuadorians—but the Ecuadorians hated it. He apparently loved their mischievousness—but
they thought he was making fun of them.
When they learned that Isherwood was a “famous writer,” they were afraid he would do the same thing—but he saw the trap.
He realized that it was acceptable to write humorously about the great and powerful, but not about the poor and powerless; speaking that way could rob them of their dignity. And he was careful to avoid that.
I'll have to remember this, when I finally write about my own travels. Maybe I should only characterize the people I was traveling with, and be very careful what I say about the places I was passing through. In any case such stories will be situated quite far in the Past, because my travels happened so long ago -- forty years ago! How am I going to write about that?? That will take some thought.
When they learned that Isherwood was a “famous writer,” they were afraid he would do the same thing—but he saw the trap.
He realized that it was acceptable to write humorously about the great and powerful, but not about the poor and powerless; speaking that way could rob them of their dignity. And he was careful to avoid that.
I'll have to remember this, when I finally write about my own travels. Maybe I should only characterize the people I was traveling with, and be very careful what I say about the places I was passing through. In any case such stories will be situated quite far in the Past, because my travels happened so long ago -- forty years ago! How am I going to write about that?? That will take some thought.
