I just want to say, having taken another stroll through these comments, how heartening and impressive these thoughts are. Really amazing. Thanks for your seriousness and positivity.
Pardon the marketing here, but George has kindly given his approval and blessing to the Story Club merch I’ve added to my Teespring page, the proceeds from which will go to the Story Club Scholarship Fund. Shirt, totes, and mugs are priced to generate 7-8 dollars per item. Roughly every 7 items sold will generate a year subscription for an aspiring writer.
I’m struck by the way Hemingway uses repetition (the sea…the water…and the rain…the rain…the rain…) so, in effect, the rain is falling all through the paragraph. The rain even makes the war monument glisten, providing movement even in something as still as a monument. Then, after all that rain and sea and glistening monument, we zero in on a waiter looking out on the square. Now we have a human being, an observer like us, a person who can take the focus of the story.
I don't know about any others here, but my first inclination when I read does not have as much to do with the content of the sentences as it does the rhythm of the words. I mean, I do comprehend the content and it goes into my brain, but it seems like the thing that really enchants me about certain writers--Hemingway in particular--is the unique personal rhythm they bring to their sentences. In this story, there's the war monument and the garden, and its all there clear in my head, but its all colored by Hemingway's sardonic tone, and that's what makes it come alive for me. It's like he sees the thing, the object of description, and it's so obvious to him, and he subtracts all the pretense that's a part of normal speech in describing it, so that every detail comes off the page as this new thing for you to rediscover, sometimes the smallest thing. It's really wonderful.
I think I figured it out, while handwriting this piece.
It is much like how George is encouraging us to write.
Write one sentence, and then write the next.
EH is thinking aloud as to what needs to follow one sentence after another. It is not pre-written or pre-thought about.
It is happening in real-time, he is writing it dynamically and the story is unfolding before his eyes as per lines added. He doesn't know what is the next sentence, till he writes it.
Much like the 3 quotes and Einstein says it best 'No worthy problem is ever solved in the plane of its original conception.”
Donald Barthelme - "The writer is that person who, embarking upon her task, does not know what to do."
I love your teaching -- helping me to think, explore, discover, learn. What fun!!! I am grateful for your giving yourself to this project. This experience is enriching my life as I become a more aware and appreciative reader and conscious human. Thank you, George.
I’m fascinated by this beginning. I am thinking and feeling all sorts of things, and I am very curious about how this story will unfold.
Some undeveloped ideas that came up:
It starts with the good weather and then informs us that right now it’s actually raining. I think this “good”/”bad” weather gives us a certain feel. The moment we find out it is raining is the moment the war monument is described, so it splits the paragraph in two, which seems very significant. War separates the sunny and rainy descriptions. I thought it was unexpected to use “glistening” for the war monument. Also, artists like the good weather and disappear in the rain.
Rain is mentioned 6 times (including the title). It’s a heavy presence. There is a lot of water everywhere: the sea, the puddles… Other words are repeated many times too: war monument, garden, sea, palm, facing/faced.
The following excerpt is the most beautiful to me. If you read it aloud you can hear the repetitive movement of the waves: “The sea broke in a long line in the rain and slipped back down the beach to come up and break again in a long line in the rain”.
There is a feeling of loneliness and opposition between public/people and emptiness. The Americans don’t know anyone; it’s empty out there in the public space.
In terms of the plot, I expect two Americans and a waiter to be characters. They are in Italy. Let’s see what happens.
It's interesting to me that the opening of this story would be much less without the word 'only' in the first line. (I should say, I don't know the story and I'm playing by the rules and haven't read ahead). So the word makes me asks questions: 'Only' because there are usually more? And the town depends on more (the waiter especially perhaps)? And something, maybe the fact that it is off-season, is keeping the Americans away, but that the low number of Americans is more significant that the fact that the Italians are not present? 'Only' because that fact will make these two Americans feel cocooned in this unknown place? It will force the focus on them? To me, that word is the undressed-Christmas tree.
"The sea broke in a long line in the rain and slipped back down the beach to come back up and break again in a long line in the rain."
This feels like a metaphor he’ll come back to: this pattern of coming back and breaking again, the tendency in relationships to repeat the same arguments, the same wounds.
After reviewing this paragraph several times, reading it aloud and listening to George’s audio, and typing it out myself, I can clearly see the value of this exercise. I haven’t read any other responses yet, but I will after posting this.
I read this story decades ago (hate admitting that), in high school/college days when I was mightily impressed with Hemingway. I’m glad this exercise reminded me of his best writing --- unadorned, crystal clear, and exquisitely crafted, with none of that “A man ain't got no hasn't got any can't really isn't any way out” stuff that turned me away from him for a long time. Granted, it’s only the first paragraph, so it will be interesting to see where he takes us next.
Answering some of George’s questions:
Where am I (the reader) now?
• Somewhere on the Italian coast, either at the hotel, garden, or in the empty square watching along with the waiter, while trying to stay out of the rain.
• Awaiting the entrance of the only two Americans at the hotel, a couple (I remember that much of the story), and the entrance of the cat in the title.
What am I noticing?
• So much rain --- glistening on the war monument, dripping from palm trees, pooling on gravel paths, falling on the lines of surf surging up and down the beach.
• A growing sense of loneliness and quiet melancholy --- the only two Americans at the hotel not knowing anyone; the Italians coming from far away to pay respects at the war monument; the incessant rain; the motor cars that have gone away; and a lone waiter looking out at the empty square.
What bowling pins has Hemingway put into the air?
• The couple, which we know precious little about
• The waiter
• The rain
• And especially, that dang cat
The exercise definitely pushed me into a deeper sense of engagement with the story and a greater appreciation of the artfulness of Hemingway’s style and choices so far. The more I read it, the more I became aware of the effectiveness of the slow, steady pacing; the power of the simple phrasing, which brought to my mind the strength of sculpture; and how each sentence builds on its predecessor, layering on detail and creating vivid mental pictures with so few words --- for example, “It was raining. The rain dripped from the palm trees.”).
Every time I read the three-word sentence, “It was raining,” it made me pause, because it was such powerful leap into the “now” of the story after a few sentences of description of the garden and monument. I’m gushing now, but it seems like such mastery, and I felt like as a reader, I was being well taken care of. And to think Hemingway wrote this when he was only 25 or 26.
There are already judgements about the nature of the bowling pins apparent in your spokenness vs. what mine would be. Wild. Truly no possibility of neutrality in the human voice.
I just want to say, having taken another stroll through these comments, how heartening and impressive these thoughts are. Really amazing. Thanks for your seriousness and positivity.
The next installment is coming tomorrow...
Forgive the typo in the last graph, in the email that went out - should be "small moves within it."
Yes, I think all should feel free to comment. The next post in this series will come out Dec 18 (Saturday).
I wanted to write something very intellectual, but all I can think of is: This is so much fun!
Pardon the marketing here, but George has kindly given his approval and blessing to the Story Club merch I’ve added to my Teespring page, the proceeds from which will go to the Story Club Scholarship Fund. Shirt, totes, and mugs are priced to generate 7-8 dollars per item. Roughly every 7 items sold will generate a year subscription for an aspiring writer.
The Story Club Holiday Tee is here: https://www.gnosticonpress.com/listing/story-club-holiday-tee?product=46
The 2-headed dog tee is here: https://www.gnosticonpress.com/listing/story-club-double-dog-tee?product=46
A white on black 2 headed dog tee is here: https://www.gnosticonpress.com/listing/story-club-double-dog-white?product=46
The cat in the rain in a pond tee is here: https://www.gnosticonpress.com/listing/story-club-cat-swim-tee?product=46
A black version of the cat swim tee is here: https://www.gnosticonpress.com/listing/story-club-cat-swim-white?product=46
An organic cat swim tote is here : https://www.gnosticonpress.com/listing/story-club-cat-swim-tote-colo?product=933
A black cat swim tote is here: https://www.gnosticonpress.com/listing/story-club-cat-swim-tote?product=933
The inspiration tee is here: https://www.gnosticonpress.com/listing/story-club-inspiration-tee?product=46
And the raining cats and dogs mug is here: https://www.gnosticonpress.com/listing/story-club--cats-dogs-mug?product=1565
Feel free to leave me questions, requests, constructive criticism, and adoring praise below!
I’m struck by the way Hemingway uses repetition (the sea…the water…and the rain…the rain…the rain…) so, in effect, the rain is falling all through the paragraph. The rain even makes the war monument glisten, providing movement even in something as still as a monument. Then, after all that rain and sea and glistening monument, we zero in on a waiter looking out on the square. Now we have a human being, an observer like us, a person who can take the focus of the story.
I don't know about any others here, but my first inclination when I read does not have as much to do with the content of the sentences as it does the rhythm of the words. I mean, I do comprehend the content and it goes into my brain, but it seems like the thing that really enchants me about certain writers--Hemingway in particular--is the unique personal rhythm they bring to their sentences. In this story, there's the war monument and the garden, and its all there clear in my head, but its all colored by Hemingway's sardonic tone, and that's what makes it come alive for me. It's like he sees the thing, the object of description, and it's so obvious to him, and he subtracts all the pretense that's a part of normal speech in describing it, so that every detail comes off the page as this new thing for you to rediscover, sometimes the smallest thing. It's really wonderful.
I think I figured it out, while handwriting this piece.
It is much like how George is encouraging us to write.
Write one sentence, and then write the next.
EH is thinking aloud as to what needs to follow one sentence after another. It is not pre-written or pre-thought about.
It is happening in real-time, he is writing it dynamically and the story is unfolding before his eyes as per lines added. He doesn't know what is the next sentence, till he writes it.
Much like the 3 quotes and Einstein says it best 'No worthy problem is ever solved in the plane of its original conception.”
Donald Barthelme - "The writer is that person who, embarking upon her task, does not know what to do."
https://www.theguardian.com/books/2017/mar/04/what-writers-really-do-when-they-write
I love your teaching -- helping me to think, explore, discover, learn. What fun!!! I am grateful for your giving yourself to this project. This experience is enriching my life as I become a more aware and appreciative reader and conscious human. Thank you, George.
Cat in the rain (Caught in the rain?)
I’m fascinated by this beginning. I am thinking and feeling all sorts of things, and I am very curious about how this story will unfold.
Some undeveloped ideas that came up:
It starts with the good weather and then informs us that right now it’s actually raining. I think this “good”/”bad” weather gives us a certain feel. The moment we find out it is raining is the moment the war monument is described, so it splits the paragraph in two, which seems very significant. War separates the sunny and rainy descriptions. I thought it was unexpected to use “glistening” for the war monument. Also, artists like the good weather and disappear in the rain.
Rain is mentioned 6 times (including the title). It’s a heavy presence. There is a lot of water everywhere: the sea, the puddles… Other words are repeated many times too: war monument, garden, sea, palm, facing/faced.
The following excerpt is the most beautiful to me. If you read it aloud you can hear the repetitive movement of the waves: “The sea broke in a long line in the rain and slipped back down the beach to come up and break again in a long line in the rain”.
There is a feeling of loneliness and opposition between public/people and emptiness. The Americans don’t know anyone; it’s empty out there in the public space.
In terms of the plot, I expect two Americans and a waiter to be characters. They are in Italy. Let’s see what happens.
This is an uncontrollable group, commenting when asked to wait. You wild ones.
It's interesting to me that the opening of this story would be much less without the word 'only' in the first line. (I should say, I don't know the story and I'm playing by the rules and haven't read ahead). So the word makes me asks questions: 'Only' because there are usually more? And the town depends on more (the waiter especially perhaps)? And something, maybe the fact that it is off-season, is keeping the Americans away, but that the low number of Americans is more significant that the fact that the Italians are not present? 'Only' because that fact will make these two Americans feel cocooned in this unknown place? It will force the focus on them? To me, that word is the undressed-Christmas tree.
I'm just happy we are all here.
"The sea broke in a long line in the rain and slipped back down the beach to come back up and break again in a long line in the rain."
This feels like a metaphor he’ll come back to: this pattern of coming back and breaking again, the tendency in relationships to repeat the same arguments, the same wounds.
After reviewing this paragraph several times, reading it aloud and listening to George’s audio, and typing it out myself, I can clearly see the value of this exercise. I haven’t read any other responses yet, but I will after posting this.
I read this story decades ago (hate admitting that), in high school/college days when I was mightily impressed with Hemingway. I’m glad this exercise reminded me of his best writing --- unadorned, crystal clear, and exquisitely crafted, with none of that “A man ain't got no hasn't got any can't really isn't any way out” stuff that turned me away from him for a long time. Granted, it’s only the first paragraph, so it will be interesting to see where he takes us next.
Answering some of George’s questions:
Where am I (the reader) now?
• Somewhere on the Italian coast, either at the hotel, garden, or in the empty square watching along with the waiter, while trying to stay out of the rain.
• Awaiting the entrance of the only two Americans at the hotel, a couple (I remember that much of the story), and the entrance of the cat in the title.
What am I noticing?
• So much rain --- glistening on the war monument, dripping from palm trees, pooling on gravel paths, falling on the lines of surf surging up and down the beach.
• A growing sense of loneliness and quiet melancholy --- the only two Americans at the hotel not knowing anyone; the Italians coming from far away to pay respects at the war monument; the incessant rain; the motor cars that have gone away; and a lone waiter looking out at the empty square.
What bowling pins has Hemingway put into the air?
• The couple, which we know precious little about
• The waiter
• The rain
• And especially, that dang cat
The exercise definitely pushed me into a deeper sense of engagement with the story and a greater appreciation of the artfulness of Hemingway’s style and choices so far. The more I read it, the more I became aware of the effectiveness of the slow, steady pacing; the power of the simple phrasing, which brought to my mind the strength of sculpture; and how each sentence builds on its predecessor, layering on detail and creating vivid mental pictures with so few words --- for example, “It was raining. The rain dripped from the palm trees.”).
Every time I read the three-word sentence, “It was raining,” it made me pause, because it was such powerful leap into the “now” of the story after a few sentences of description of the garden and monument. I’m gushing now, but it seems like such mastery, and I felt like as a reader, I was being well taken care of. And to think Hemingway wrote this when he was only 25 or 26.
There are already judgements about the nature of the bowling pins apparent in your spokenness vs. what mine would be. Wild. Truly no possibility of neutrality in the human voice.