This week we were assigned the reading of "The Jew's Daughter," a work of hypertext fiction. Like last week's "Twelve Blue" this story also utilized its form to the fullest extent. As with "Twelve Blue" it appears that "The Jew's Daughter" plays with a sense of time and memory, and it mixes in nostalgia to paint a beautiful and haunting picture of a woman remembered.
At first I was quite confused about this text. I foolishly went to mouse over the first hyperlink that I saw, before I even began reading, and I saw the text warp and transform before me. I started reading, and realized that each time I put my mouse near a hyperlink the text would completely change. This, at first, was a bit frustrating. Not in the same way as "Twelve Blue," but in a new way. For example, I read the line:
"Her face is a pale round moon."
And immediately fell in love with it and the sentence that followed. Unfortunately I moved my mouse and must have hit a link because the subsequent line vanished and I cannot even recall what it had said. Why this is somewhat beautiful, and it opens the reader up the ephemeral nature of words and memory, it is also a bit annoying for those of us who want to linger on the pleasure a series of sentences can bring.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, I found that sentences were rearranging to form a thought as moving as the original. For instance, I first read a line that went:
"Words are always only words, but these waiting words pause, are cautious, self-aware, know that what has already not yet happened what losses are taken and who gets what."
And this struck me! Of course! Words are so self-conscious, so revealing of the self. Then, after the sentence changed, it became:
"Words are always only real-time creation, realized under the pressure of days, just as this once should have been realized under the pressure of days. Incipit. Three knocks."
And how much this also speaks of the nature of words! Words, those self-aware beasts, are indeed realized under the pressure of days. They built up, taking more and more on them. And how that "Three knocks." seems to release the reader in the sound of the sentence and what it evokes.
Somnambulistic
(I love the author's use of this word.)
In reading both "Twelve Blue" and "The Jew's Daughter" I feel that I have gotten a very interesting understanding of hypertext fiction. In creating ideas for my own piece, I have used the formats for both stories as a sort of "template."
I like the idea of a man (or woman, but for the sake of experiment I'm going to say 'man' here) standing on a cliff that overlooks a valley. He is alone with his thoughts, and as his perspective shifts and he gazes around the valley, so does the narration that appears for the reader. I am unsure what I want the narration to focus on, but maybe the contemplation of a man on a cliff? The fight between the urge to jump and the urge to remain? Maybe the man isn't suicidal, per se, but he feels that all-too-familiar urge to do something reckless kicking in as he surveys the world from his vantage point? Maybe he is, in fact, dealing with the thought of suicide and the landscape is soothing him and taking away this desire. I still am not sure, but I like starting with a man on a cliff.
Descriptions are something I truly enjoy playing around with, and poetry moves me to an incredible degree. I would like to use poetic prose to narrate this story, and have the man who stands on the cliff have a sort of beautiful aesthetic to the way he is observing everything, without giving away his actual thoughts. Much like the nature of actual thoughts, I want his inner-monologue to be a bit convoluted and obscured by what is before him. So maybe this narrative is all about the nature of the mind when confronted with the holy glory of the natural world?
I don't know yet, I'm just spitballing here, but I like playing around with this idea. More will be revealed (to myself and whoever is reading this blog) as I delve further into the realms of my own mind to find this story.
My loose outline for this is, essentially, this:
- A man is standing on a cliff, observing the beauty of a valley below
- The story takes place in his thoughts as they pass like the shadows of clouds on the valley below
-Depending on what his conflict is, the story could end in a resolution of self, or an attempt to achieve something "greater" (as in jumping off said cliff).
Not too meaty yet, but I guess it is a start!
And I end with another wonderful line from "The Jew's Daughter"
"They all come back. To go away quietly."
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