[Review - At Swim, Two Boys by Jamie O'Neill]

I just wanted to add in my praise for this remarkable book. Reading it definitely wasn't easy, but it was like (some) poetry -- you can't always put into concise sentences what the poet meant, but you do understand, somewhere inside. And the prose is beautiful.

"So spake Scrotes, and having spoke he smole a smile and home to raven regions lonely stole."

Sigh.

dcorvus

[God Damn It]

God Damn It

I.

No one says it anymore, no one

With all the necessary zest?

Like GOD DAMN IT, all three at once,

All three to grab then punch then fuck

The living daylights out of air,

Or sunlight, or passing cars, or this

Thing called life I need someone to say it,

To me or let me hear it

Because I can?t say it, I can?t. It?s

Only damn it for me, only damn it

II.

To the mirror, to these features I know

So fucking well. I want to yell, scream at it,

Cry and claw the smoothness

With my fingernails, he won?t even flinch.

Bet he won?t be there if I punch him

Crack that glass?

Let?s have the blood,

Toast it and yes: give me the pain

Justify what?s inside, oh God

I need to justify what isn?t there,

Why can?t I say it? or strike him

Like you had Cain strike Abel?dead

Like doornails or faces in the morgue,

There?s loveliness

In death, you know, but can?t justify it,

No, can?t even say it.

Can?t even say it.

dcorvus

[Ouroboros Question]

OUROBOROS QUESTION

dcorvus

God is dead ? Nietzsche

Nietzsche is dead ? God

And so the question runs around its head,

To slink down years and prowl from mind to mind.

What rage to thinkers young and old you fed

And bade them peel the everlasting rind!

Now fallen unto me; I saw you from

Afar. No tragic thinker will I be,

Who sought the wise but played in end the dumb

When tangled in your mired philosophy.

It had been said by Socrates that there

Must be an absolute, and therefore you

Must hence exist to guide with hemlock fare

The soul down paths both beautiful and true;

And our Russian kin have said that faith

Cannot be touched by intellect, and man

So not to be insane, become a wraith,

Must leap and trust the enigmatic plan.

And others say that you are but a dream,

Mere vanity or solace for the souls

Who must conjure from void some blissful steam

To reassure their hearts like fading coals.

And I?I give no answer, I know not

What brutal truth or gentle lie may be,

Nor what the agony my choice has wrought

Now that I wander blind upon this sea.

------------------

NOTES:

1. The ouroboros is a snake that constantly devours its tail. Like yin and yang, it is infinite, eternal, unanswerable.

2. The 'everlasting rind' refers to the forbidden fruit, as the rind is the skin of, say, an orange, that you have to peel.

3. Socrates argued, as written down by Plato, that there was an absolute justice, absolute beauty, etc. He died by drinking hemlock.

4. The 'Russian kin' refers to Ivan Karamazov, one of the central characters in The Brothers Karamazov. Ivan was fiercely intellectual and questioned God's existence, which eventually led to his insanity.

[Topics for Discussion]

Hey,

I was browsing the forums and I thought that there definitely wasn't enough activity going on here. So I decided to toss in a few topics that I thought would be interesting; feel free, forum masters, to split this into different threads if the need arises.

1. Pet Peeves. This is a fun one. What makes you slam the 'back' key on your keyboard as fast as you can? What ruins a story in the space of a phrase? Basically, what do you really hate to see in writing? Is it terrible grammar? Cliches? Cheesy names?

2. The Power of the Heart. It is a truth universally acknowledged that we love romance -- reading romance, engaging in romance, seeing romance splattered across tabloids and television sets. So how does one write romance well without coming off as disgustingly cheesy? Are there things to avoid? Cliches to eschew? Or do you feel that any kind of romance, no matter how melodramatic and cheesy, is good romance? Also: do you prefer love-at-first-sight (or touch) stories or the more... gradual kinds?

That is all.

dcorvus

[All that matters]

Aww, this is nice. It's not obscurely profound or deeply symbolic, but it's more than enjoyable; and the use of repetition is effective and powerful. But I think that the middle stanza is a bit extraneous; in conjunction with the last stanza, it sort of sounds like you're abandoning your parents for your partner.

Nice work,

dcorvus

[Last Wish]

Last Wish

Fool me once, shame on you;

Fool me twice, shame on me.

Winter creeps through walls and floors

And sends it frosty fingers over windows, over skin;

It hardens earth where flowers bloomed,

And freezes bark of trees

That once were wreathed in leafy boughs

And murmured to the rhythm of my heart.

Before the snows had touched my soul,

I lived in green Arcadia,

Where future sprawled as avenues

Of sated days and half-mad nights.

The course of true love never did run smooth,

But in chase and destination was promised

Our warm, eternal summer.

Fall could be shuttered by these lies

But winter cannot be denied.

And now the glade of sun-dappled trees

Are four walls cracked by bitter cold.

Where is the song of spring? the summer lover?

I gave them my heart, but found it returned

An exhumed corpse

Not worth a crust of bread,

And my memories, not a coal;

For I am sick of love,

And would that love be sick of me.

[Ganymede and the Eagle]

This is my response to Yeats's "Leda and the Swan." Less a response, really, and more of a... er... imitation, I suppose. But those of you into Greek mythology will know that Zeus, as a swan, managed to copulate with Leda, the queen of Sparta; the resulting brood included Clytemnestra and Helen of Troy. You might also know about the story of Ganymede and Zeus, wherein Zeus became infatuated with a beautiful Trojan boy, swooped down as an eagle, and brought him up as the cup-bearer of the gods. It's a manifestation of "the unspeakable vice of the Greeks." This is really only an idea I put rather hurriedly into form, but I rather wanted to share it with all of you...

-----------------

A sudden blow: the great wings bear

The startled boy into the air, his head thrown back,

And arms flung out upon the wings,

The talons gently part the thighs.

How can the drowsy eyes open in protest,

When breath is caught by darkling winds?

And how can body, swept upon a piercing cry,

But forget the rolling earth beneath?

A shudder in the loins: the wings beat still.

The great beak turns towards the sun,

And still the eyes are closed.

Being so caught up,

So mastered by the brute blood of the air,

Did he dream the sorrows left behind

Would melt before the heavenly sheen?

---------

The original "Leda and the Swan:"

http://www.csun.edu/~hceng029/yeats/yeatsp.../LedaAndTheSwan

dcorvus

[IT'S FINISHED!!! THE POETRY CORNER IS FINISHED!! COME SEE!]

Wow, it looks really awesome. The graphics are really cool, the bios look excellent, and it's easy to get around. I have only one nitpick: that on the 'poems' page, the graphic seems to be attributing that bit of 'Stolen Child' to Nicholas Nurse, when it should be to W.B. Yeats. *cough* Is one a hypocrite for needling others' mistakes while totally not noticing one's own?

dcorvus

[Slumber]

The tepid moon is frozen where it hangs

Behind the still and musty curtain.

The headless worm of nightmares yawns its fangs

And curls itself in sleep uncertain.

The restless soul with restless dreams make fight

And wearies wars in clouded sleep.

What haunts the sleeper must with muffled sight

In troubled slumber nightly creep.

-----

All things begin somewhere, and I think this poem began with not being able to fall asleep. 'tis very frustrating. Then I had the vision of a sleeper, tossing and turning and sweaty in his bed, with moonlight falling on him, almost coiling around him like a worm. And so that's where this came from.

dcorvus

[The Neighborhood]

I.

While strolling in the neighborhood, I see

my neighbors going by, some with dogs and

some with cats and some with faces

smiling and I see some people walking

with their heads here there and nodding as their

words come flowing like an empty wind

that catches leaves and brings them to my face,

and I am smiling over hollow flames while

someone screams and breaks the walls

but they?re really singing to themselves,

and in a corner she knits a noose

he cleans his father?s gun, but maybe it?s just

me seeing things that don?t exist

and yes of course I need new contacts, I do

agree with God knows what?

my face is hurting from my smiling

and glass is piercing my bare feet as

I laugh along with all their jokes and

make the movements of their hate and

loves and passions and cruel things

that are our precious masquerades over

things that they all know and I too know

and we all know

but they are smiling and I am smiling,

and masks are real things after all and

I do agree, agree with God knows what.

II.

Alone in my room,

I will face my enemy

In the looking glass.

--------------------------------

Please comment constructively so I can either polish this before sending it to our favorite poetry editor or relay it to the recycling bin.

dcorvus

[Ordinary desires]

Hey, I like this. When I read it the first time, I didn't quite know where the poem was heading until the last stanza, which was very well done because it really does capture the situation. And on second reading, things get more cleared up, and the poem feels stronger. My interpretation is that the speaker is encouraging us to continue fighting, but that, in the end, the fight isn't for the fight, or for the ring -- it's for the right to simply "hold his hand."

I also like your flow and rhythmn, how you try to keep it structured. Good job!

dcorvus

[Sand Castle]

SAND CASTLE

The answers beg the question;

The question finds no respite.

Why are we here? What purpose do we serve?

We: the great charade, the marchers in a grand

parade.

Sometimes we find a grain of truth

And base a castle on the sand;

We build it up, stone by stone,

And hoist the banners to flutter in the wind:

Here’s the parapets of hearts,

The turrets of the jacks;

The queens lounge in wave-washed chapels by

The keep of suicide kings.

But when the spilling currents

Flood the moat and break the wall,

We see at heart a single grain of crumbled sand—

We know our world is dead.

The answers beg the question;

The question finds no respite.

A vicious circle, a gyring circus,

We: the makers of our cage, the victims of our

rage.

------------

Comments please?

dcorvus

P.S. Eh, yes, thanks blue! It's 'parapets,' and not what I had...

[Editing and Style -- was "Formatting questions"]

Hey Graeme,

From what I've read, you just switch back. For example:

Michael said, "And then he said, 'John told me, "Don't go there!"'"

I (think) I'm basing off of Tolkien; I seem to remember a similar situation came up in Gandalf's long narrative, and what Tolkien did was to switch from single to double back to single quotes. (Of course, he being British, started with single quotes.)

Hope that helps,

dcorvus

[Beautiful Soul]

I read this story all in one gulp and found it very enjoyable. I certainly would *not* want to be in such a school, though... It seems filled with really rich kids who would grate on my sensibilities; and the class and group divisions are lethally sharp. Ethan is shaping up to be a very likable character, and the complexities of all the romances/lusts/intrigues are interesting, to say the least. Update soon!

dcorvus

[Thanks Dude!]

I, too, would like to add my thanks. And -- this may sound rather corny -- but in my opinion this site is the sort of thing that we really need, that transcends itself. There are many folks out there like us with stories to tell, and many times it's difficult to find an appreciative forum and/or audience. This site allows for connection and expression; it helps alleviate two of the most terrible things to feel: loneliness and repression. There will be times, I'm sure, when sailing becomes rough, but what doesn't break us will make us stronger.

Okay. I'll shut up now. In any case, thanks! If there's anything I can do to help, just ask, and I'll try my best.

dcorvus

[Ambush]

This was an excellent short story. :) Graeme, I bow to you: you've mastered the art of short-storying writing. Though it was short, you managed to flesh out all the characters with an economy of words, and the final twist was like a maraschino cherry on top of it all. Excellent!

dcorvus

[I hate Gay Stories]

I think wbm is absolutely correct. I share a hate for those types of stories as well.

But perhaps we can take comfort in the fact that this same kind of thing occurs elsewhere. Anybody who's acquianted with fanfiction knows about the infamous "Mary Sue" and "Gary Stu" -- in their most rudimentary definition, they are self-inserts of the author. Oftentimes they are Perfect People who possess Superpowers and have canon characters wrapped around their Pinky. But they're invariably manifestations of the author's fantasies.

And so are the "gay" stories we have here. While fanfiction writers (stereotypically adolescent teenage girls) desire to be be bizarrely-named anime characters with obnoxious eye colors, the stereotypical teenage gay/bi writer fantasize about being in a position in which their angst is justified and a knight in shining armor would be able to swoop down and... yeah.

Of course I'm talking stereotypes here. And just as there are extremely high quality pieces of fanfiction out there, there are wonderful stories by teenage gay/bi writers (or those who would "fit" into the stereotype). Moreover, the Mary Sue/"gay" story phase can be seen as a stepping stone to better things. The difference between truly good writers and those who aren't truly good writers is that the former moves beyond this initial stage. 'Course, some (lucky) people just bypass this awkward beginning. But I'm sure most of us aren't so fortunate.

Another point... what are we looking for in stories? I, for one, am looking for a story that'll suck me in and move me. The story doesn't require gay characters to do that (though you can quibble over the fact that Sirius and Samwise are actually gays in disguise...). A story that gets mired in ridiculous and unbelievable teenage angst with a gay slant simply repels me. However, a story with gay characters can help me relate more; a story in which a boy loves a boy, a man loves a man, moves me more than a story with heterosexual love. So the core values of a good story are universal: they don't change with sexuality, gender, race, and location; they're only accessories, building onto intrinsic human emotions.

[Beta-Reader Needed]

Hello,

I've written an 11-paged story that I'm thinking of publishing online, but I'd first like someone to look it over and give me some feedback. It's short, so it won't take long, and it's a rather unusual story in that it doesn't deal with the usual subjects -- coming out, growing pains, initial relationships, that sort of thing. It's currently titled 'Road to Arcadia.' My email address: diuscorvus@yahoo.com.

Thaaank youu!

dc

P.S. I'm assuming that it's okay to post this kind of request/plea here. Is it? Thanks.

[death and the veteran]

Woow. This story was awesome, and it's absolutely it's perfect for the holidays! I love the twist in the end. The way Ruthless fleshed out the characters with so few words is truly masterful.

Happy holidays, everyone! dcorvus

[Gabriel Started It, and I Am Just Tossing Gas Onto The Fire]

Hallo all,

I've been lurking here a few days, enjoying reading everybody else's thoughts and opinions, and I've finally decided to respond.

I feel that character descriptions are extremely important. I mean -- when I think of Harry Potter, I see a scar-faced boy with those glasses and green eyes; when I think of Gandalf, I see a forceful old wizard with a staff and a hat. These are physical descriptions that help define the character. But JK Rowling didn't dive into the details of Harry's musculature and we don't know Gandalf's eye color.

Similarly, when we think of our friends and acquaintances and enemies, we don't mentally generate a list for each of them -- we never think, 'Oh, person X, he's the guy who's 5' 6", has muscles like so and so, with a penis this long.' In fact, I don't know how tall most of my friends are, besides taller than me, shorter than me, much taller, midget.

What I do notice is salient features. If I met someone with a very strong air of confidence, that's the first thing I'd notice, and the first thing I'd put down in a character description. If the most conspicuous feature of a person is shocking blue hair, I'd put that down as well. It's all about first impressions.

It also depends on the mindset of the character from whose perspective the story is being told. If the guy is really horny, I think it would be safe for him to notice things like, 'Wow, sexy legs, nice arms, mmm'. But if he's really nervous, he'd probably think, 'Dang, he looks really confident... He seems really prepared...'

Of course, first impressions can change, and one can notice things later on.

I agree with Gabriel that sometimes, the descriptions should be left unsaid, so that the character might apply to anyone the reader wishes. But the character has to be alive enough to transcend physical anonymity.

I don't like photos, either. Photos are too specific, and I'm almost always disappointed when I see a photo of a character and think, 'Oh, he looks like that? I thought his nose was a bit bigger...' Or something. But photos are good if the character is weak enough that the reader hasn't generated a solid picture in his or her head.

So there goes my very long two cents.

dcorvus