April 9th, 2018 - The State of Nature
Dear TNY,
I am pleasantly surprised by “The State of Nature”. In fact, I would say I liked this story. In the very least, I respect this story. Let’s go over the numbers.
Language: The author turned a phrase quite nicely. I find myself on the hunt for clever usage of language, grammar, structure, etc. Among other things that can mean, for me, accessible vocabulary with a flare for the creative (crenels). Well timed pauses. Good blocking and form. Unique, but correct, spelling (venders). In this regard, the author had some shining moments. Here’s an example of both fresh language and good pause (note that the pause here was created by the author intentionally):
“Sometimes the simplest things,” Rita said, and didn’t finish her sentence, or didn’t believe sentences needed verbs.
We didn’t find my things, and no one raped us.
Additionally, the first sentence had that T.C. Boyle hookness to it, which I love (it should be noted that I am not a huge Boyle fan, but I can appreciate the way his first sentences are designed to snag the reader’s brain-folds).
Theme: I was impressed by the subtlety of the themes in this piece. There's the superficial theme of burglary, which is mostly a plot driver (and by definition contains conflict). But burglary also represents something stolen, which speaks to the deeper theme of rape. The human sympathetic brain-notes both of these subjects create do well to support each other, like a Venn Diagram. Then a there is a further abstract, the state of nature, which expands upon the truth of being human. It’s as if the very state of nature will always be our underlying brutality, like an underground river coursing through our everyday lives. And we may choose to arm ourselves with whistles, fannypacks filled with supplies, better eyesight, mace, skills, solitude, etc, but we cannot outrun the state of nature. These themes were interwoven into a fabric that didn’t connect until the last page or so and then did so with surprising inevitability. Yes, yes, yes, TNY.
I have few negative criticisms. There are a handful of paragraphs which contain redundant information. By this I mean the reader says the same things differently a couple sentences in a row. The other criticism is that the main character has a particular dejectedness to her that is unaccounted for other than genetically, and I believe this diminishes the climax when the whistle is blown. She may have purchased a fannypack, but at that point she had been so well established as...hmm...let’s say a “grey” person that the nothingness of the whistle seemed inevitable. There was no hope. And I was not moved by her lack of hope because she had the same tone throughout.
Well shit, TNY. Here’s to this being the start of a string of stories that I will not regret reading,
Nick
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It seems I’m not done. This isn’t a P.S. I just...I have more thoughts. I respect the fuck out of the author for taking a subject that could easily have been an agenda piece and brought empathy to it with great writing. Writing a piece including an agenda but rendering it empathetically accessible is not small feat, especially considering the toxicity of civilized (or not) discussions in America right now. The more I think about this piece, the more I’m drawn to how well it was done. To how the author, at no point, became full of herself or himself. That it was about the story, about the fucking characters, not the author’s ego or agenda or experience. That it was about all of us. All at once. And I’m sitting here with a growing sadness for the losers comment in this story. Because it ain’t about no goddamn vase. Fucking Christ. It ain’t about no goddamn vase…
Hugs. Hugs to anyone out there who needs one. This shouldn’t be the state of nature. I’m so sorry that it is. Fucking hugs....
