Saturday, February 5, 2011

Breaking the rules or why I don't understand grammer sometimes.

I just recently finished Salman Rushdie's newest book Luka and the Fire of Life. First, let me say, wow. It is an amazing book, the best I've read this year, in months actually. The book is set in the same world as his previous children's book, Haroun and the Sea of Stories. You must go read these two books immediately, Terrwyn. Haroun and the Sea of Stories is in my top books EVER list. Luka and the Fire of Life will probably join it.

Before I started reading Rushdie's new book I was prepared for a great story, and the possibility I might be reading one of my favorite books ever. That's a lot of expectation to put on a book, not to mention, since Luka and the Fire of Life is sorta a sequel, I'd probably compare it to the first book, Haroun and the Sea of Stories. (See, even the titles of both books are similar.) However, within the first sentence none of that stuff mattered, I dove right into the story and loved every minute of it. This was one of those books I wanted to read and read and never stop - and at the same time I didn't want to read, because I wanted the story to last forever.

This book shows how storytelling works, and what I truly aspire to do someday. So, I'm taking notes.

I love the structure of the book Luka and the Fire of Life, it's a very traditional journey story, though it never feels like it's forced, it occurs naturally. Perhaps in another post I'll talk about the hero's journey in regards to Goosey, I'm sure you're familiar with it Terrwyn. The Hero's Journey, as describe by mythologist Joseph Campbell, has always fascinated me. I find I'm always refering to it whenever I finished a story to see how much my story resembles the hero's journey. (The link above is to the Wikipedia page about it.) Its easy to trace in Luka and the Fire of Life. Luka is on a quest to save his father, along the way he meets various allies and overcomes obstacles, like the Old Man of the River and the the Mists of Time. In the end ... but I can't spoil it for you, so let me just say - please go read it and you'll find out what happens.

However, I do have a curiosity to talk about, a particularly paragraph, which I think is breaking the rules, but does it so well that, of course, Rushdie's allowed to break the rules. Let me just quote the passage for you, Luka's parents are talking about his video game playing habits:
Rashid did not give in. "Look how his hands move on the controls," he told her. "In those worlds left-handedness does not impede him. Amazingly, he is almost ambidextrous." Soraya snorted with annoyance. "Have you seen his handwriting?" she said. "Will his hedgehogs and plumbers help with that? Will his 'pisps' and 'wees' get him through school? Such names! They sound like going to the bathroom or what." Rashid began to smile placating. "The term is consoles," he began but Soraya turned on her heel and walked away, waving one hand high above her head. "Do not speak to me of such things," she said over her shoulder, speaking in her grandest voice. "I am in-console-able." (pg15)
That's it, one full paragraph. It's a rather amusing scene actually, Rushdie has such clever dialogue and wordplay in this book. I realize it's out of context, but I still think it illustrates what I'm talking about. This isn't the first time I've seen this style of writing, where within a single paragraph there is a dialogue without any paragraph breaks between dialogue. Is this allowed? It must be since it's in the book, and it works, but ... why does it work? Maybe, because its part of a narration at the beginning of the book.

Actually, I've tried to imitate the style a bit in Letter 5.  In the very beginning, the scene with Ange and Falada speaking, which goes like this:
Falada is just outside grazing. She is still complaining that our early departure made her miss her favorite meal of the day. She says grass is best early in the morning with a little dew sprinkled on top. When I point out to her there is plenty of grass over there by the riverside, she replies, “That stalk is very pungent. In fact everything out here has a slightly moldy taste.”
How horrible. Apparently though, she says, it is not that bad, she just prefers a sweeter variety, and if I doubt her I can go try some myself. I politely decline, a princess doesn't eat grass.“And a Princess should never doubt a talking horse,” she says. 
I couldn't put everything into one paragraph, and I've no idea if it works like this or not. You should read it over in the letter and tell me what you think. I'm also a bit concerned with the present tense/past tense in this letter, whether it works or not. I'm afraid I jump from present to past without much regard for which one I should be in.

In case you didn't already notice, I've re-posted Letter 5 completely. I made some revisions to it, nothing too drastic, except, maybe the parts regarding the red wisps. They no longer talk. I decided their talking was irrelevant to the story - too distracting and ultimately too difficult to weave into the narrative. There is too much other important stuff happening and, even if they get upset, I had to remove their speaking roles. Sorry ladies.

Also, coming soon, after this post will be a new page - Letter 7, starring you know who, the poets.

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