Wednesday, September 10, 2008

same old story (abridged version)


For those (and yes, Which Box and Elspeth, I'm looking at you) who, quite rightly, point out the annoying lack of detail in my last post: Really, it's not so much that I'm being coy as that, in the end, there's not a whole lot more to be said.

Or, as Dorothy Parker who, as usual, already said everything that I would have wanted to say, only so much more cleverly than I possibly could have, summed up the situation:

Two-Volume Novel

The sun’s gone dim, and
The moon’s turned black;
For I loved him, and
He didn’t love back.


I mean, don't you have a story that goes pretty much like that?

27 comments:

Amelie said...

That's a very concise summary indeed. I haven't seen my Steve in years, and I'm not exactly sad about it.

Which Box said...

No, no, it's not annoying lack of detail in the post. I've been trying to think since yesterday of how to explain in a comment, without sounding so flippant.

I read novels for the story, not the writing. I appreciate fine writing, but I get caught up in the story, so I race through to find out what happened.

Your blog is - you are - intriguing to me because the story is not entirely clear. Not even close to clear. I found you early, and so have read along as it's been revealed. And I remember those details. Sometimes someone (a regular) will comment and I'll think, don't they remember the post where she explained that reference? I probably know your archives better than you do (since you said you don't read them, I'm not really that stalkerish). It is with a great deal of recognized hubris that I type I get a lot of you - or a lot of what you have revealed. The denial, the different form of grieving, the lost love. And further, as you were with others, you were very kind to me during what was a very low point. After all this time, though, my curiosity flares at times. I get the players and the main drama, but like many who read for the story, I can't quite put it all together. It's like reading Italo Calvino.

But it's intriguing and keeps me reading. Like Tash, I am content to have it all unfold. I am a put it all out there spelled out in black and white writer. (first this happened, then that). Shifting perspectives and timelines intrigues and maddens me, but I certainly appreciate it. I would love a cheat sheet - a little button that leads to the timeline (when I was 17 I did this, and then at 22 this happened, and at 23 that happened, and then I left my job and went back to school....). I'm the reader who constantly flips to the genealogy chart or map or timeline at the beginning of the book to make sure I have the details straight.

Blogging is not novel writing or memoir. So I don't know that I'll ever know. But that's kind of what makes it fun. And being able to poke back at the author also makes it a bit fun, too, doesn't it?

k@lakly said...

Well at least now I don't feel as dense as I did yesterday...

thordora said...

I think I have one of those right now, still in my house. I got it fully and completely yesterday...

Furrow said...

Yep. Just one. From embarrassingly long ago. And yet he still turns up in dreams. Bastard.

Tash said...

Don't we all. Compared to yours though, my story (-ies) just seem so . . . . boring.

Catherine said...

I don't. And from the sounds of it, I'm glad I don't.

Cate said...

Ugh. My first husband. Who later told me he thought I tricked him into marrying me. I don't think it gets any plainer than that.

painted maypole said...

yes i do, although i must say it doesn't involve my best friend as well

Magpie said...

But of course.

Sara said...

totally off subject sorry but my emails messed up.

Thank you thank you thank you for the chocolate, it TOTALLY lifted my spirits and thrilled me to no end. I TOTALLY appreciate it.

slouching mom said...

oh yes.

Janus said...

Which box, I'm with you. I've been pathologically obsessing over Niobe's blog for a few days now (just recently discovered it). When I read that she had a son (Son? Living? L's son? Wha??) it really threw me. I thought, wow, an unreliable narrator. The spaces of her life (what she doesn't share) are infinitely greater than the substance that we see. The thing is, I love unreliable narrators in fiction, but you know the author is going somewhere with it. With a blog, it can be frustrating because the picture never seems to be fully in focus. (Unlike Niobe's actual pictures, which I love.)

With this, this latest post, doesn't L read these? How does he feel about this reaction? He must be the most secure, emotionally stable creature on the planet.

And I have thought for a while that Niobe must be the reincarnation of Dorothy Parker somehow.

Aunt Becky said...

I wonder often where he is now. And then I want to find him and punch him in the balls.

Lori said...

I do. But, luckily for me, that all worked out for the best. I wish it would for everyone.

Angela said...

You make me sigh.

flutter said...

yep, pretty much

Eva said...

I unfortunately have to see my Steve regularly. I wrote about how much it sucks just recently, in fact.

Emily said...

Isn't that the truth about Dorothy Parker?

LawMommy said...

Of course. Don't we all.

But the devil...the devil is in the details...

Julia said...

I think it would be very embarrassing for me to answer this question. So I am just going sit here, quietly...

Elspeth said...

*looks back*

Yes, but I delight in your blog: you're even more oblique than I am.

My Steve really is named Steve. Oh how I loved him. May the angels defend me ... he said he loved me too, but after our baby died he left and never looked back, so I don't know that he did, truly.

Two decades on and still he haunts the crooked corners ...

Antigone said...

Bastards.

thrice said...

Yes, perhaps more than not.

Am I doing okay? said...

I needed that Parker poem about 15 yrs ago. Thank you for giving it to me today.

Hennifer said...

Thank you! I adore Parker.

And yes, I have that story.

Rosepetal said...

I do but in the context of time, it was an utterly insignificant moment.