Fragments, lots of them. Occasional contractions without apostrophes. Dialogue without quotation marks. Missing commas. It's like Grammar Rules Gone Wild. Perhaps it's because I spend several hours a week reading and grading papers that these things stand out as badly as I do when standing in a group of Yup'ik women (my height, that is).
Surely I'm not the only one to have noticed this, right? So what's the point? Are any of you finding that it affects the story? Why do some contractions have apostrophes and others don't? I'm having a hard time getting into the story because I can't get past all the broken rules.
Any thoughts?
Hell, yes, I have some comments. First of all, it's so great to just talk about books and reading. It seems like a dirty topic, like you'll instantly be found out and ridiculed for it. Honestly, I'm just waiting for a conversation about books to start up.
ReplyDeleteI didn't read this book! I listened to it. I was always the reading purist that thought, "Audiobooks are for lazy jerks. That's not reading!" But I listened to it, and all I'm left with are images and emotions - pure visuals. I watched this book in my head.
I'm not saying, "Who cares? Apostrophes or not, it's still the same story."
Because it's NOT. The lack of punctuation, I'm sure, reflected the theme(s) of the book. the textual crimes highlighted the societal or moral crimes.
But I didn't see any of that. What I experienced was not reading, but oral culture. I heard a story. And that is what reading is - sitting at the feet of a storyteller. When you can forget about the text and get immersed in the voice of a narrator of authorial voice, you are really reading. I feel that way with J.D. Salinger. I felt that was while reading "Trainspotting" by Irvine Welsh, which was written in a phonetic Scotch accent. When an author breaks the rules she is only breaking the most crusty, long-established rules of literary format.
When an author adapts the conventions of written language to suit his purpose you know you are in the hands of someone who knows better.
Hey! The actual launching of a discussion on the blog. Excellent! *tapping finger tips together like Burns*
ReplyDeleteDuring our winter break, "The Road" resounded effortlessly into my mind via frequencies freed from iTunes. I imagined the book entirely in shades of gray. The air was ashen. The sun hazed and subdued. A layer of dust choked me as I imagined the father and son trudging along the road pushing their cart. Try as I might, I could only imagine shades of gray and the occasional dark blackish red of coagulated, dried blood. I listened to the first 1/3 of the book in the comfort of my mom's well lit house. My dad lives 40 min. away, so I thought it might be a perfect time to listen to more of the book. I was hooked. That night held a faint fog b/c it had been snowy, but had warmed up and rained the previous couple of days. Snow still sat from daily shadows. It was after midnight, so quite dark. I had to drive cautiously b/c deer have several paths across roads around NC, dogs roam, and I wasn't sure if there might be black ice. It was chilly outside. I intently focused on the winding lines beneath the fog ceiling on the craggy country roads: double yellow, solid and broken yellow, outlying white. The fog hovered a few feet above the road. When I started to really focus on the road, the narrator in his characterized voice strained a screechy whisper, "Help us!" This is when they found the house w/ the black tiles and the locked room w/ naked people inside, and an amputated man on the bed, pining b/c of the anticipation of being harvested. My heart rate sped up as I slowed the car. This was the first time I imagined color, light color anyway, and it was the color of their flesh as they huddled together en mass against the wall. The man, perhaps on a stripped blue, ratty mattress. Ick! After this, I think the next time I imagined color was as the man scavenged apples. Even that was dull. I take that back, I remember them finding that grand cash and I pictured the packages and their room in color.
Though I tried fervently to obtain the book in hand for this meeting, it didn't happen. Listening to McCarthy's delectable descriptive prose was ideal for an audiobook "read." It really held my attention, which is kind of hard to do, especially this way. I only had to rewind a few times. *_*
Deanna, I was kind of intrigued when I saw this post and tried to find the book again (borrowed). No dice. I might also find the unconventional style distracting, given my attention span w/ texts.
Kyle, I appreciate your comments about breaking conventions in order to reinforce the context. That hadn't really dawned for me. I can imagine, b/c I do that so well, the deranged punctuation might aid McCarthy's purpose of creating an atmosphere of unpredictability, chaos, unsettlement...
I'd like to take a gander at someone's book, to get a feel for myself.
~Carey
More Carey comments:
ReplyDeleteThe ambiguity of the characters "father" and "son" as well as the absence of a time and place for frames of reference was appealing to me. I would think this ambiguity would lend itself to a longer shelf life for a book, meaning many generations and a diversification of people might relate. All wonder about a post-apocalyptic society and if you're actually to that point, then most or all of these books will be razed anyway.
Also, I have a special fondness for the constant reference back to "the road". Simply put, it's an analogical, metaphorical, and allegorical jelly roll. It's something everyone can relate to. It's plight. It's safe. It's unwavering. It links what was to what is now. It leads somewhere, many places. It will be there after what is left living is not. As I type this, I am reminded of a Buddhist saying, the quote I cannot find, so I hope I'm paraphrasing correctly. Basically, it says that the mirror remains, mirroring nothing. In one respect, "the road" is the mirror.
P.S. Maybe referring to the commentary on the blog might be a good jumping off point at meetings. I've noticed we always shuffle our feet a little at the beginning, which is fine. I'm just saying, if we wonder how to start off, this is one way.
P.P.S. I *heart* book club. ^_^