What There Is in a Bottle of Ink
This work is archived and isn't accepting critiques or comments. Why?
Print
"An intelligent hell would be better than a stupid paradise." —Victor Hugo
The writer—who was a recluse—was sitting inside the dark barn,
sighing, staring at his pet ostrich.
The ostrich, named “Our Lady,” was laying in the center of the
barn, upon a wet straw bed, using its long neck like a
periscope—its eyelashes, long and pretty, flicked as she observed
her master. Her feathers fluttered; she squawked. Her overall
appearance resembled a French maid. The writer, sitting on a wooden
crate, tapped his quill-pen against his chin, his thoughts
wandering as he stared at his pet. The barn was hot—it was in the
middle of summer. He wiped his forehead dry and began to record his
thoughts on notebook paper.
Her name is “Our Lady,” and she prances across the stage, waving
her feather-duster at the audience of pure gentlemen—she flirts,
squats, and flutters. A beautiful and divine creature! Her
movements are lithe and intricate. Broad steps and bobbing her
head. She flashes her eyelashes at the men, who whistle with
satisfaction. She shows her breasts—but alas! The music plays! She
bobs her head again, and in the midst of the show, the lady—who
appear to the gentlemen as “human”—now becomes a Camel-Swallow! The
unutterable ostrich!
The repertoire of the writer was not known. He believed his skill
was superb and articulate—but having anthrophobia caused him to
shun publishing companies and others around him. All he cared for
was his writing. His idol in the literary world was Victor Hugo.
Growing up, his intelligence exceeded expectations—but his peers
and, ultimately, his family, shunned him. His “ugliness” was
exposed: that being punctual and bearing high intellect—a
“know-it-all” who was unbearably annoying was considered evil. He
was also well-read. As he grew of age, he compared himself to
Quasimodo—the infamous, grotesque ring-bearer of Notre-Dame.
In the play, titled “Of Flame and Water,” the Camel-Swallow, “Our
Lady,” dances. She waves her feather-duster at the men. A burlesque
play, exposing this feminine-fatale as she longs for her demon
lover! And, at length, the demon shadow approaches! The nymph
awaits him. By-the-by, the French maid performed in this
vaudeville—she, being a mere facet of the play, struts and frets
her hour upon the stage—and yet, being a Camel-Swallow allows her
legs to stretch! Pity that the demon descends upon a crowd of
boos!
His scribbling tired him. The ostrich squawked and rose. She bobbed
her neck and walked to the rear of the barn, at the dark, desolate
corner where the crows nested, and drank from a metal bin which
contained water. The writer continued his scribbling. Dabs of
White-Out filled the page, and he flipped to new, fresh sheets
occasionally. His argyle vest, colored dark green and gray, waved
in the draft that came through the barn doors. Outside, the
ceaseless toiling of a lawnmower sounded in the distance. He turned
his head to observe the brightness of the day—only to notice his
female neighbor across the street watering her rose garden.
He flipped to a new sheet and began to write his brief relapses of
nonsense and nondescript.
Divine goddess, how thou art
In my eyes such a beauteous wonder!
Solemness, expeditious, wondrous fruit!
My Venus—my hapless maid—save my plunder
Of the sky—and digest my luscious tart.
The woman across the street—standing in the framed threshold of her
two-story house, colored pink—was wrapped in a green towel, her
blond hair dripping wet from shower water. She leaned against the
frame of the threshold, smiling at the barn which contained the
captive recluse. Her thoughts wandered—her words slowed like a
river. She walked forward slightly, holding the towel tightly
around her. The afternoon sun shined brightly—a golden aura beat
down upon the road, the heat rising into the clear sky.
He sees me—but does he know
That I long for his undying love?
Does he realize that I would become a dove;
’Twould only be sincere of me that I sew
My heart for him—but alas, he is alone and sad,
In a world of moan; for if only a nymph like myself
Could sense his urge for me and place a book upon a shelf
That includes me—but his loneliness he has is very bad.
The writer
Rate This Work
Your honest rating will help the author improve.
Please log in to rate.Discussion
wow, this was an excellent story with an unexpected ending. Very nice work! I do have a few critiques and suggestions which, hopefully, will be helpful to you.
One of the first things that I noticed was that the first few sentences all being with the same format: "The character, something about them or what they were doing, rest of sentence" which gave the whole first couple of paragraphs a feeling of repetition and redundancy. Case in point:
"The writer—who was a recluse—was sitting inside the dark barn, sighing, staring at his pet ostrich."
"The ostrich, named “Our Lady,” was laying in the center of the barn, upon a wet straw bed, using its long neck like a periscope—its eyelashes, long and pretty, flicked as she observed her master."
This format also appears elsewhere in the story, and I feel that there could be other ways to phrase things so as to reduce the redundancy.
Another thing that I noticed was a repetition of facts. You tend to give facts multiple times when they only need to be stated once. For a particular example of this, compare the latter of the above given quotations with the first sentence of the following paragraph. You have opened two consecutive paragraphs with the ostrich's name.
In the first paragraph of these two, the ostrich's gender is not given and you refer to her as "it." This leads the reader to believe that you have a reason for doing so, yet in the very next paragraph you give her a female gender. Nothing about this is particularly "wrong" so to speak, but it just makes all of the times that you used "it" in the previous paragraph seem useless. Is there a reason for not giving her a gender straightaway?
I love that you switch off paragraphs between your writing and that of the main character's, but I do with there was some sort of formatting difference, because in the beginning this can be confusing to the reader. And then something odd happens. As soon as the reader catches on, you change the format again. The bit of writing now comes from the woman across the street, cause for further confusion. The format is soon dropped altogether. It is a neat idea, to have every other paragraph written by the main character, I only wish there were something done with formatting that would make it easier for the reader to see the difference, and that this format remained consistent throughout the story.
Another inconsistency that I noticed was that you often switch between past and present participle. The first paragraph of the second page is an excellent example of this.
The writer continues his scribbling and doodles a humorous sketch of “Our Lady,” who’s ceaseless squawking never fazes him. His brain storming like a magnificent maelstrom—the ink of his pen being born upon the lined pages. He breathes solemnly. His heart beats fast—his hair a soaking rag. The light peeked through the draft of the barn door, and the silhouette of the woman appeared in his plane—and then his words became philosophical and concise, but bears resemblance to nondescript.
It suddenly switches to past tense, throwing the reader for a loop.
While examining this paragraph, there is one other thing in there that I had noticed. The opening of the second sentence seems unnecessarily repetitive. While the "maelstrom" is a nice image, having two storms so close together in a sentence sounds awkward. You may consider using another verb instead of "storming."
The last sentence, I feel, does not need an exclamation point. I feel that it undermines the poignancy of his suicide, and adds a comical tone. If that's what you were going for, then keep it by all means, but as a reader, I felt a period was due in its place.
The only other thing that you may want to have a look at is general grammar. Read it over to yourself and eliminate unnecessary commas, target improper uses of "your" and "you're," "lay" and "lie," and other things of that sort.
Overall and excellent story. I was very impressed by the detail and creativity put into it, and I hope these critiques will be helpful to you, and not taken in a negative way (I'm not trying to be mean, just helpful).
I look forward to reading more in the future!
Wow, I did not expect the story to go in that direction. Well done. My only comment is a minor one. The introduction of the main character felt a bit rushed. Would that we met him through an event or two, rather than the quick laundry list of his station in life:
the journey with him would be that much more rewarding (though thats probably the wrong word). Good job.