Rigel

http://www.planetjh.com/testa_2005_12_07_proulx.html is a link to an interview with Annie Proulx in a Jackson Hole, Wyoming newspaper. She talks a lot about the story and how she came to write it, the myths and realities of Wyoming, Matthew Shepard, the conversion of the short story into a screenplay, and the genre of Western literature. An excerpt or two from the piece: Planet Jackson Hole: How did you come to write "Brokeback Mountain"? What inspired the story? Annie Proulx: "Brokeback Mountain" was/is one of a number of stories examining rural Western social situations. I was trained as an historian . . . I watch for the historical skew between what people have hoped for and who they thought they were and what befell them. PJH: I think it's clear to anyone who reads "Brokeback Mountain" that above all it's a wrenching, starcrossed love story. It is about two cowboys, but it seems inaccurate to call it gay literature. How do you feel about the film being assailed as gay agitprop emerging from liberal Hollywood? Did you ever intend for the story to be controversial? AP: Excuse me, but it is NOT a story about "two cowboys." It is a story about two inarticulate, confused Wyoming ranch kids in 1963 who have left home and who find themselves in a personal sexual situation they did not expect, understand nor can manage. The only work they find is herding sheep for a summer ? some cowboys! Yet both are beguiled by the cowboy myth, as are most people who live in the state, and Ennis tries to be one but never gets beyond ranch hand work; Jack settles on rodeo as an expression of the Western ideal. It more or less works for him until he becomes a tractor salesman. Their relationship endures for 20 years, never resolved, never faced up to, always haunted by fear and confusion. How different readers take the story is a reflection of their own personal values, attitudes, hang-ups. It is my feeling that a story is not finished until it is read, and that the reader finishes it through his or her life experience, prejudices, world view and thoughts. Far from being "liberal," Hollywood was afraid of the script as were many actors and agents. Of course I knew the story would be seen as controversial. I doubted it would even be published, and was pleased when The New Yorker very quickly accepted it. In the years since the story was published in 1997 I have received many letters from gay and straight men, not a few Wyoming-born. Some said, "You told my story," some said "That is why I left Wyoming," and a number, from fathers, said "Now I understand the hell my son went through." I still get these heart breaking letters. More of the interview at the Planet Jackson Hole website (link above). --Rigel

"Brokeback Mountain," the original story by Annie Proulx, on which the movie is based, has been posted: http://www.newyorker.com/archive/content/a...212fr_archive01 Read it! One of the great gay romances, set in Wyoming, published the year before Matthew Shepard was found crucified on a fence near Laramie.

A most excellent conclusion. It's wonderful that elements from earlier chapters (from juggling to moron theory to ants) come back in a way that unify all 13 chapters into a tight story. Even the forward-looking actions following the conclusion of the story are hinted at enough. For example, I can imagine the scene the next day between Cam and Mr. Hall without EleCivil needing to write it out. The only thing missing (though it's there in my own head) is a gratuitous camera-pan backward though the street performers at the park. --Rigel

I'm sad to see Jamie's letter, though a more careful reading of it makes it seem more like a hiatus than a forever goodbye; at least we can hope so. "Just HIt Send" may well be my favorite net fiction (certainly of authors not resident here at Awesome Dude)--a story which is not only well written, interestingly plotted, and motivationally consistent, but also filled with insights about the nature of love and the human condition. Other tales have entertained me, but "Just Hit Send" moved me and affected me profoundly. While not "finished" in the sense that Jamie reserves the right to revisit his characters, the story has reached a stasis; most of the plot uncertainties have been resolved, and we're left with no great unresolved issues. It's just that the characters are so well developed that we want to check in on them occasionally and find out what's happening in their lives, the way we do with old friends in the real world. The displaced youth is one of the mainstays of coming-of-age fiction. A teenager comes to grips with a new set of friends in a strange place (or an existing group must deal with a new teenager placed into their midst). Jamie now gets to live out the displacement in his real life. Fortunately, he seems excited by the opportunity, and we can only imagine that since he goes into the move with a positive attitude, he will store up his ideas and feelings, and on the day he finds time to write again, he will distill all the insights gained through actual experience into new and wonderful writings. We can wish him the best, and hope that he finds happiness on the ranch. And with some selfishness, we can hope he reports back from time to time to let us know things are going, and perhaps even, one day, have time to write about it in a story. ("Happy trails to you until we meet again, etc.") --Rigel

The once was a writer named Dave Who fell in a rage or a rave: "Delete all my stuff 'Cause I'm feeling gruff And there's nothing of mine you should save."

After reading Gabriel's comments, I'm thinking about the novels of William Faulkner. His first big book, "As I Lay Dying," was told from multiple points of view. Each segment (many of them too short to be called "chapters") is named for the narrator of the segment, certainly an experimental writing style when he wrote it in 1930. Sort of like the folks today who indicate the point of view at the top of the segment. I'm also thinking about Faulkner's more confusing novels like "the Sound and the Fury," where you go to the back pages appendices of some editions to check out a dramatis personae to keep apart the fact that there are two Quentins (different generations and different genders) and that "Caddy" can refer to sister Candace or to a golfer's caddy. But Faulkner is probably an exception, since he's deliberately playing confusion mind-games on his readers. I think the author might find access to a dramatis personae useful, especially as a way of keeping straight the alternate names for real people, as in James Savik's story. But I'm not sure what purpose it serves the reader. The first names in the Savik family seem to repeat in different generations, but there isn't any more confusion about it than in real life, since in real life as in the story people use distinguishing epithets to keep the referents apart ("John" ande "Big John" for example, or "Jimmy" and "Uncle James"). If your reader can't tell them apart in the telling of the tale, then you've written badly (unless of course you're trying to deliberately create a situation of confusion). --Rigel

Gabe, I was thinking today about your statement " I just feel slighted by all of these marathon writers and their large . . . stories." My mind went to remembering some of the best stories I've ever read, where condensation down to the fewest possible words meant everything, and brought about an intensity in the writing. I'm thinking now of Tilllie Olsen's "Tell Me a Riddle"--something like a novel condensed into a short story. Her writing style is incredibly polished and intense; she was NOT a prolific author. Two aged characters are having an argument about continuing to live a dependent/independent lifestyle: ----- "What do we need all this for?" he would ask loudly, for her hearing aid was turned down and the vacuum was shrilling. "Five rooms" (pushing the sofa so she could get into the corner) "furniture" (smoothing down the rug) "floors and surfaces to make work. Tell me, why do we need it?" And he was glad he could ask in a scream. "Because I'm use't." "Because your use't. This is a reason, Mrs. Word Miser? Used to can get unused!" ----- At this point, you realize that the author of the story is truly a Word Miser herself, using as few words as possible to create a vivid scene of vacuuming that tells you volumes about the two people arguing. (Read the whole story if you haven't--it's a great read, though of course a completely different genre from what you'll find at AwesomeDude.) Our comments a few weeks ago where everyone admired EleCivil's story where Andrew says "I'm a moron," is an appreciation of that same sort of condensation, which builds intensity. It's not how many words you use. It's what you do with them. --Rigel

Some stories I read for the plot, though I must say that a lot of plots are pretty similar. Gay boy thrown out of home by father who doesn't understand (always the father, mother is always sympathetic)... Seeks shelter with friend/relative... The genre has rules which are recombined in new inventive ways but are as predictable as an old Scottish ballad. But this story--I read for the writing! When I came to Part 5 and halfway through it realized that it was from a different point of view, I backed up to the beginning of the Chapter, and re-read, but the re-reading renewed my commitment to following the tale. And now with Part 9--(how do I phrase this without introducing any spoilers?)--having it narrated from that point of view is brilliance! Looking forward to further developments. --Rigel