On "Extracts from a Life"

Lydia Davis is one of my favorite writers. Perhaps it’s because I’m a fan of brevity and wit, but I have a feeling impatience may also have something to do with it. In any event, in her story “Extracts from a Life,” Davis sets up a biographical narrative constructed of fragmented snapshots, or extracts, as the title suggests, of the life of Shinichi Suzuki. Each section is given an italicized subtitle, such as ‘Childhood,’ and ‘My meeting with Tolstoy.’ These sections are based on real-life historical occurrences in Suzuki’s life, some even drawing direct quotations from his life. It is difficult to say how to read this story. Upon first reading, it was not apparent to me that this was based on a real, historical person, with real historical events specific to Suzuki’s life. Without this knowledge, the story seemed to be bringing together disparate parts in an odd, unsettling synthesis: violins and classical music, Tolstoy, Japanese poetry, idioms and aphorisms, and Albert Einstein. However, after discovering that the Shinichi in this story is in fact Shinichi Suzuki, it blurs the line between fiction and nonfiction. This story appropriates a different form of nonfiction than we have previously imagined. Rather than using a dictionary entry or an musical album’s liner notes, “Extracts from a Life,” appropriates history, sometimes word for word (The sentence “Plenty of people often think, “I’d like to do this, or that,” seems to be written by Suzuki, as a loose internet search revealed). Because of these facts, I am left questioning which parts of the story are fact and which are fiction, and if it even matters. It is Davis’ arrangement of these seemingly disparate facts that make up the fiction, correct?

Critique of "Overlap"

“Overlap experiments with story and authorship by converging to seemingly disparate narratives at the end of the piece, and then ambiguously gesturing toward Charles Bronswick potentially writing the story, “Overlap.” The title suggests that this is the direction the fiction will move toward, and a quick once over of the text confirms these suspicions, as sections are visible and separated by three crosses. The language is this fiction is often very clear and precise, and the fiction is given to us mostly in exposition. The story ties up pretty perfectly in the end. Bronswick finds little Verdermaine’s casket and respects the dead, ordering his workers to fill in the empty space where his pool would have been.

Critique of “THE MEMORY BOOK”

“THE MEMORY BOOK” is written with cryptic and, at times, abstract prose, which makes it difficult to discern what exactly is going on. It seems a woman is very old and her whole body is pulled down by gravity. Towards the end, she unwittingly opens a ‘memory book’ that houses old photos of her father. These photos transform into reality, I believe, and manifest themselves in the real world, or at least she believes they do, and she becomes haunted by her memories, I believe, and commits to a suicidal jump from the window. Just before her jump, she sees her father, or an apparition of her father walking along the walk. This fiction is very cryptic, and it works well to that end, though I think the piece needs a little more work to figure out what it’s trying to say about memory, death and age.

Critique of “Things in a Shooting Gallery”

At the outset, “Things in a Shooting Gallery” recalls Lydia Davis’ “Extracts of a Life.” This is done mostly through the form of the piece, as passages ranging from one sentence to a few paragraphs are arranged, each with their own heading title. Similarities to the piece continue throughout, with the heading titles often mimicking each other and the thus also the content. Childhood, If you think of something, do it, and The Japanese poet Issa are matched by Childhood, Stick to your guns, and the The Wit and Wisdom of Will Rogers. Is it fair to call this piece an imitation? Not so fast, cowboy. “Things in a shooting gallery,” puts an old-western spin on Davis’ strange, Japanese violin hybridization. I’d say that this piece sticks more closely to a centerpiece--cowboys and guns--rather than Davis’ story which is somewhat eccentric in its parts.

The voice in this piece is unique and authoritative, adopting the attitude of a young girl whose father is a gun-proud cowboy. It seems she’s from New Mexico, or Oklahoma, and the story is set sometime in the late 90’s or early 2000’s. The piece develops throughout her life, ranging from childhood to college, but there were times when I wasn’t sure how old the narrator was supposed to be. The voice doesn’t change, and I suppose it shouldn’t, as the narrator isn’t changing. This piece is very evocative and strong, and I would work on wrenching it a bit away from the template Davis has set and seeing how you can mold it more to your liking.

Critique of “The Explorer”

The title of this piece evokes a sense of adventure and mystery. Who is this explorer, what will they be exploring? Just under the title sits a boldfaced case number, psychiatrist name, and date. This is a psychiatric case-study and evaluation. The piece is divided into two parts: description and conclusion. In the first paragraph she is described as a ‘five year old, bilingual, Hispanic female...living in a rural area.’ It also notes that she has speaking animal friends who are all interrelated and coexistent. Journeying into the second paragraph, it becomes clear that this child is actually Dora the Explorer. This becomes clear when it is noted that ‘the patient also states that she often does not know where to go and calls on a bilingual map to show her where she needs to go...etc.’ The conclusion then delves into a scathing evaluation of young Dora, declaring her ‘very disturbed’ and outlining a series of mental deficiencies, such as schizophrenia.

I think this is an incredibly fascinating draft with a ton of possibilities. I’m immediately imagining Dora in a shrink’s office, and then progressing to Dora in a mental institution or Dora in her mid-thirties. This form experiments with character and somewhat with form, though the form largely stays true to what I would conceive a psychiatric evaluation would. In other words, there is much more room for experimentation, and a wealth of directions. This piece could take a new form, such as a narrative of Dora’s experience dealing with her developing schizophrenia. Or the piece could retain its current form, but look to break out of it by inserting deviations into the text. This is a very promising draft. Good job.

Critique for “The Last Will and Testament of Edward P. Unum”

I’d like to begin this critique by looking at the title of this piece. This is Edward P. Unum’s last will. Have there been previous wills? How are they different, how are they similar? The name Edward P. Unum plays off of the latin E pluribus unum (from many, one), which Wikipedia calls one “de facto motto of the United States,” dating back to the 18th century. Given this title, expectations are set that this piece will invoke a sense of American history or ideals.

This is written as a will, though I must admit I have never read an official will before, so I do not know how they are structured. It would be interesting to look at this alongside one and note similarities and differences. The second paragraph calls Edward Unum’s death an ‘unthinkable’ occurrence, though given the fact that this is a will, that occurrence seems very thinkable, even likely. The piece proceeds from the opening anecdote through an addressing of Unum’s loved ones and relatives (and his doctor, to whom he leaves a curious 13%). At the end, he addresses his son, tells his son that he loves him and then ends the will without leaving his son anything. I found this strange because he doesn’t take any resentful tones toward his son, and it would seem logical that he would leave his son money.

This piece appropriates a nonfictional form for fictional use. This form is the will, which reads like I would expect a will to. I must admit I expected there to be more experimentation with the form of the will. The piece largely stays true to the form, or at least as far as I can tell. That said, there is undoubtedly a ton of room for experimentation with this piece. What would the previous wills look like when placed alongside this last one?

Critique of "Glossolalia"

I looked this word, glossolalia, up in the dictionary. Webster defines it as “profuse and often emotionally charged speech that mimics coherent speech but is usually unintelligible to the listener and that is uttered in some states of religious ecstasy and in some schizophrenic states.” Given this definition, I expect there to be some form of this in the story. It must be understood, then, that the italicized passages are a form of this. However, it is not clear. Are these actually being spoken by Charlie when he drifts into sleep? Does Lewis hear him? From what I can tell, Lewis does not hear these. It seems apparent, also, that the italicized passages are the stories of Old Man Pellum. However, we only get three of them, and from them we are able to piece together bits of Pellum’s birth, which seems historic and cataclysmic. I really want to know more though, and it seems like this has the makings of a very interesting and epic piece of conventional fiction. The experiment no doubt lies in these parallel passages, but as of now I feel they are too conservative. Aside from them being there, and the apparent connection between the two at the end (“bound to be either famous or crazy”).

The writing in this is strong and precise. The sentences have force and I enjoy reading them and rereading them. Good job.

Rejection Letter

Critique of "Charlton Heston"

I suppose I could critique his acting in "Planet of the Apes," but this story will have to do.

This is very clever. The use of a famous person from a time-gone-by as the main character. A cartoon eagle. Industrial Park Road. This is very much a story, and feels very much like a real story all the way until the end, when, in a matter of two sentences it unravels. I think. This is my judgment, and it could be wrong. The climax is cathartic and slow and both hilarious and tragic. Reminds me of the final scene from “Girl With Curious Hair.” About the unraveling. Maybe it’s the wrong word? I think, rather than unravel, what I mean is it cuts off, falls short. This is mimicked or represented in the text as Mr. Charlton Heston is ‘out of ideas’ after feeling very powerful. Was this all his imagination? I don’t think so.


Eddie is exactly as advertised: cartoonish, but with the edge that comes with being shown the shaft by those big wigs at the NRA and the T.V. stations. An adult swim edge, maybe. I think one thing to consider, or at least never forget, is that Eddie was created. Not only by you, the author, but in the world that this story takes place in, Eddie has a creator. Be it some creative loon at the NRA or a freelance animator, someone thought him up, drew him, gave him life. He obviously knows this…what does he think of it?  
I love—I’m impressed—the use of humor throughout. One-liners are placed well, and jokes are often set up and then followed through on. It’s nice to read an honest piece that doesn’t withhold from the reader those little satisfactions. (examples: ‘I’m a Simpson’s fan;’ ‘Charlton didn’t know a thing about trains;’ ‘Somebody get a vet’)


I question the use of the little dots. Are the scenes that the dots separate that different and unique to warrant their usage? You may say ‘Yes. Yes they are.’

A Text for Nothing

“Where would I go, if I could go, who would I be, if I could be, what would I say, if I had a voice, who says this, saying its me?” -Sam Beckett

Such is the question of authorship for the author, who creates and dictates, explores the unknown, wielding force of will, and for the work, the gift, the created essence.. But central to this ‘idea,’ no it is not an idea but an act, is that she creates. She brings from inexistence and into existence and renders, a key word, a dutiful word, renders a sufficient word renders an idea, a potentiality as an actuality. Nothing is consciousness, we are left with nothing we began with nothing. Come with us, see the spectacle that is, is not. But is it nothing, is the object of creation existent only when tended to by the creator? Surely not, the object is given life, a simple life perhaps, but still life. How ungrateful one may be if one seeks not to recognize this genesis. But the life may be complicated, does this matter? Life begins simply for all existent creatures, objects, beings, things, and moves, teleologically, to complex, yes, no, maybe. How do I work this? he asks. What is this life, for me, now speaking a piece of delimited fiction, an actor of prose. I am given life, but am I given freedom, do I deserve freedom, is this freedom mine to take, do I have anything to do with my freedom?

Critique of “Incident Report”

“Incident Report” is a multi-perspectival account of the same event. That is, multiple speakers give their story of ‘what happened.’ The differences in the accounts regard matters of ‘intent’ and details, as well as obvious voicings and voice shifts. The prose reflects the phonetic structure of the the speech employed by each respective speaker. However, only in one instance does the speaker’s phonetic structure deviate from the written, grammatical structure of the words on the page. I believe this is something consider upon revision. If one speaker’s voice is going to be represented phonetically, then they all should. If it is the case that the speakers’ whose voices match perfectly with written english, then wunderbar! But this is definitely something to consider.

The incident in question is the accidental (incidental?) death of Phillip during a violent collision in a football game. Each speaker has a different perspective on the incident, and that is where this piece really shines and has a lot of potential. The reports, I assume, are conducted through interviews. It would be vastly beneficial to seek out texts that make use of this medium or form and see how it has already been done. See what you like and what you don’t. See what stands out. Look at “Brief Interviews with Hideous Men.” In this series of interviews, many different voices are used and played with. Play with your voices. See what these people are like, how they carry themselves. And let loose. Get as many perspectives as possible. Don’t even use them all. Just keep developing more. This could be a form of cubist literature. I’m not sure. is it?

Critique of “S.O.S"

The prose in “S.O.S” is very honest. It doesn’t attempt to deceive you with literary tricks or madness. It is, suffice to say, refreshing and clean. Rather, it gives honest, fruitful, and ordered accounts of one man’s experience on an island. It just happens that this man’s mind has been split and he doesn’t realize it. The prose alludes to this possibility early in the text, as Peter, the second man, claims that he knows someone else is out there, but he never sees this other person. The text is somewhat cheapened, in my opinion, by the twist ending. The text would be more fulfilling if this were either omitted or made clear at the beginning of the text, so that the focus of the text was not on this unknown of ‘who is this strange bastard that keeps messing with my stuff?’ and more of a case-study on this one guy’s situation and his unraveling. The text echoes Fight Club and Memento as it plays with memory, memory loss, and personality disorder.

Critique of “One Night: 750 words plus a few”

Very fast, this sprints running faster faster it catches up to itself, momentarily, and then off again it goes into distance. I believe, and I trust my belief, that author Ruby Rosa Brezinsky appears at least three times in the story. Is she the opening narrator? I believe the piece operates with the (potentially honest) reproduction of ‘real-life’ dialogue with authorial asides sprinkled throughout. Whether the dialogue is, in fact, transcribed from a real or factual event may be irrelevant. What is important, is that these are working for something or in some way. The dialogic nature of this piece gives fragmented snapshots into a world full of conflict and intrigue. Who’s getting who pregnant? What’s with all the drugs? I like that this does this. Rather than fully explicate each individual instance, we are given momentary life as it is: fragmented, unfulfilled, and full of thoughts and instances that end at their conception. How unlike anything else we normally read in fiction, right? The main question asked, is, why do we seek fulfillment in a moment or instance when there is none? Or, rather, why do we try to place or extrapolate meaning or order like that, when in fact there is only chaos?

Test Post

This is what I wanted to make the uniform resource locator:

This is not a blog

I, too, am glad it is being put to good use.