So, I’ve decided to take the challenge this year, drafting a literary novel with the working title ‘Getting to the Truth’.
Do I have the stamina? Do I have the speed? Do I have the inspiration?
There’s only one way to find out…
Love story
Book Review – Hallucinating Foucault
Book Review – Hallucinating Foucault
Title – Hallucinating Foucault
Genre – Literary Fiction
Author – Patricia Duncker
Published 1996
Rating 10/10
* * *
Wow! Just – wow!
I first read this novel about twenty years ago. I was impressed, yes, and some images stayed with me, but I remember feeling uncomfortable and slightly bemused.
In retrospect, I can see why that was; for all sorts of reasons I lacked the emotional generosity to respond authentically to a challenging love story – for, at its heart, ‘Hallucinating Foucault’ is a love story.
It’s a simple, linear narrative, the quest of a young scholar to find and free Paul Michel, the writer whose works have enthralled him.
Or is it?
The quest story lies nestled in a story of old passions; the passion of a man for his first love; the passion of an artist for his art; the passionate need of a writer for his ideal reader. By the time we reach the last page we can see a monumental structure, solid as concrete, against which the hapless scholar has been mercilessly broken. We can make out seductive whispers, just below the threshold of audibility, blaming Fate and denying human responsibility, even as they admit human agency.
We never learn the name of the scholar. It is as though he exists only in relation to Paul Michel. And yet, we care. I cared passionately for him. I shuddered with trepidation as the inevitable denouement approached. I wept at his destruction.
Few books have moved me like this one. Few books have given me such delight by the sheer quality of their writing.
Read this novel for its superlative writing. Read this novel for its insights into human love and life. But, above all, read this novel for pleasure; it’s a delight.
What Pegman Saw – Some days are good
“What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. Using the location provided, you must write a piece of flash fiction of no more than 150 words. You can read the rules here. You can find today’s location on this page, from where you can also get the Inlinkz code. This week’s prompt is Taunoa, French Polynesia.
Some days are good
Some days are good, some bad. Paul was such a big part of my life. I sigh and put away the nail polish. I can’t be bothered. Perhaps I shouldn’t have bothered with a vacation either; September will always be tainted by the memory of those last days as Paul fought for life.
But I did bother, and it’s a pleasant resort, and a gal’s gotta eat. That waterfront fish restaurant tonight, I think, only I mustn’t feel melancholy as the sun sets.
“Bonsoir, Henri!”
“Madame!” Professionally charming. “We ‘ave lovely mullet tonight. ‘ere, I give you a seat by the water!”
The sky is azure, the light crystal sharp. It is a courageous sky.
I am so lost in my thoughts, that at first I don’t hear him.
“May I join you?”
Silver hair but unlined face, gentle and scholarly, a quiet smile.
I smile back.
“Please do.”
Inlinkz – click here to join in the fun!
Friday Fictioneers – Breaking the News
Every week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (thank you, Rochelle!) hosts a flash fiction challenge, to write a complete story, based on a photoprompt, with a beginning, middle and end, in 100 words or less. Post it on your blog, and include the Photoprompt and Inlinkz on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them.
PHOTO PROMPT © NA’AMA YEHUDA
Breaking the News
As Rick and Tamara stood centre-stage, bowing, Rick’s mom beamed. What a lovely couple they made! They could marry in the church where her father had been Minister! After the show, she chattered all the way home.
“Mom! Can we stop? I’ve got something to tell you.”
She pulled over. “Won’t it wait?”
“Mom, I’m gay.”
“Oh, no, Honey!” She clamped both hands over her mouth.
Rick flushed crimson.
“My boyfriend’s called Dexter. May I introduce him to you on Sunday?”
Rick’s mom fidgeted, then nodded.
“Okay. Invite him to tea, only…” she hesitated, “let’s not tell Gramps yet. Please?”
What Pegman Saw – Informal Introduction
“What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. Using the location provided, you must write a piece of flash fiction of no more than 150 words. You can read the rules here. You can find today’s location on this page, from where you can also get the Inlinkz code. This week’s prompt is the Aosta Valley, Italy.
Image by Claudio Romeo from Pixabay
Informal Introduction
“Oskar, no! Out!”
The huge Alsatian barged into the gondola of the ski-lift, tail wagging happily. The door of the gondola slid shut.
I face-palmed.
Oskar licked the hand of the girl opposite. She was tall and slender, and long, dark-brown hair cascaded from under her casquette. Her amber eyes were merry and she was smiling.
“I’m sorry,” I stammered. “He’s not mine – he’s my landlady’s. He follows me everywhere!”
She laughed.
“I don’t mind,” she replied. “I like dogs.”
It took twenty minutes to take Oskar back to base and return.
To my surprise, the girl was waiting at the upper station. “Why don’t we ski down together?” she suggested.
We paused at the mountain restaurant halfway down.
“Can I buy you lunch?” I asked.
“Yes, please. This is my favourite restaurant!”
We ate. We drank. We talked. We had dinner that evening.
We’ve been married twenty years now.
What Pegman Saw – Parting
“What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. Using the location provided, you must write a piece of flash fiction of no more than 150 words. You can read the rules here. You can find today’s location on this page, from where you can also get the Inlinkz code. This week’s prompt is Asuncion, Paraguay. It’s related to my story “Happy ever after” published on December 21st.
Image by Bernhard Post from Pixabay
Parting
Asuncion market gleamed with thousands of coloured lights celebrating Christmas.
Carlos looked miserable. He hated seeing Jose upset.
“Look,” said Jose. “I love you. I want a lifelong partnership. I will never go with anyone else; I swear by the Virgin! What more do you want?”
Carlos laid his hand gently on Jose’s.
“I love you too,” he said softly. “But AIDS terrifies people.”
“But there would be no risk, because I’d be faithful!”
“I don’t think they’d see that. Do you remember that doctor last year? When he came out as gay, he lost all his patients.”
“Don’t you trust me, Carlos?”
“I would trust you with my life,” said Carlos, fiercely, and then he sighed. “Perhaps we had better not see each other again.”
Jose stared at him.
Carlos looked at his watch. “I must hurry, Jose. I’m meeting someone.”
Jose said nothing – but followed at a distance.
A milestone reached!
I have at last finished the first draft of my latest novel. The first 50,000 words were finished under the stimulus of NaNoWriMo – thank you to everyone who supports that endeavour, and to Gabi who was my writing buddy. It’s taken me since then to write the next 60,000 words, giving me a completed manuscript of 112,000 words. The working title is “The Owl on the Pergola”
Now the hard work starts – the editing!
The Owl on the Pergola
The novel is a work of literary fiction that tells the story of a young Indian woman who grows up in a very poor rural community, and moves to Kolkata when she is 16 years old. She is luckier than most, having an aptitude for study and a wealthy aunt who is prepared to sponsor her through higher education. However, she has to contend with an obsessive stalker who eventually turns violent, and with the ubiquitous prejudice that a woman’s place is in the home, serving her husband and his family. Will she have to choose between the man she loves and the academic career that she desires?
At first sight – Part 5
As I’m participating in NaNoWriMo this year I have no time to write original material for my blog. Instead, I’m reblogging a serial that I first published in 2017. I hope you enjoy it!
If you’ve missed the earlier chapters, you can read them here
Short Story – At first sight – part III
Jon and Vikki fell for each other at a party in London – the day before Vikki returned home to Australia. They have been writing to each other, and Jon has arranged to visit Vikki in Melbourne within the next few months. But Vikki is settling back into her familiar life, and renewing old friendships. Meanwhile, her abusive ex-partner, Guy, is trying to trace her…
It was the second morning in a row that the postie had let her down. There was no letter from Jon. It was windy, cold and raining. She shook herself. “Come on, woman! Pull yourself together!”
“Hi, Vikki! Fancy a movie this evening?”
“Dan! I didn’t hear you come in.”
Dan grinned. He and Vikki had been in and out of each other’s houses all the time as kids.
“Sorry! I should have knocked. Anyway, what about this movie? La La Land!”
“Sure, yeah, I’d like that.”
On the way home from the cinema, Dan stopped his car at the kerbside a few streets short of Vikki’s home. She turned to him, ready to tease him, ready to defuse any threat of intimacy with humour. His face, though, was too serious.
“What is it, Dan? What’s the matter?”
“Can we talk, Vikki? I mean talk properly, not joking.”
“Go ahead.” She still sounded flippant.
She saw the fine lines deepen on his forehead. There was pain in his grey-blue eyes. She had always liked his eyes. As a teenager she used to imagine him as a Viking, facing the terrors of land and sea without fear.
“I’ve got to say this, Vikki, or I won’t be able to live with myself. I love you. Will you…will you marry me?”
“Marry you, Dan?” There was a little quiver in her voice.
“Don’t bloody make fun of me, Vikki. You don’t owe me much, but you owe me the respect of taking me seriously.”
“I am taking you seriously, Dan. I’m just flabbergasted, I guess. I hadn’t expected this.”
They sat together in silence for a few minutes.
“You haven’t said no, at least.”
Vikki turned to him. She put one hand on his shoulder, and with the other, stroked his blond hair across his forehead.
“No, I haven’t. And I haven’t said yes either. Oh, Dan, this is just so difficult. Because I’ve loved you as a friend for years, and I find you sexy as hell, but…well, there’s somebody in England who’s special to me.”
“Not that Guy fellow, I hope?”
“As if!” Vikki stopped stroking Dan’s hair. She took hold of his right hand with both of hers, and squeezed it, as though to convince him of her earnestness. “He’s called Jon. I can’t explain it, Dan. It’s a mystery, but it’s very wonderful. I’m so sorry.”
Gently, Dan removed his hand from hers.
“I don’t want your pity, Vikki. If you won’t have me, I reckon I’ll have to go away.”
“I haven’t said no, Dan. But I’m not saying yes either, not yet.”
“So, what the hell are you saying then?”
“Don’t be angry, Dan. I know it must look like I want to have my cake and eat it, but it really isn’t that. Can you give me a minute just to think how to help you understand?”
Dan nodded.
Vikki gestured at the two of them sitting in the car.
“This is kind of reality, Dan. The two of us sitting here; you loving me; you asking me to marry you; and me sitting here wanting to say yes, because I love you too, Dan, I do truly. But then there’s this thing like magic that happened the day before I set off home; this – connection I suppose you’d call it – between me and Jon.
Look, he’s coming out here soon. Next letter I get, I’m expecting him to say when he’s coming. Suppose I said yes to you tonight? And then saw him, and this thing between us boils up and I change my mind about what I said? That wouldn’t be fair for either of us, would it?”
“I don’t think you’re being honest, Vikki, not with me, not with yourself.” There was an angry edge to Dan’s voice. “You want to keep me in reserve in case it falls through with this – Jon. Well, that’s not going to happen. What kind of basis would that be for a marriage?”
Vikki took both Dan’s hands in hers, and looked him full in the face. In the moonlight, her amber eyes were dark, almost black, and luminous with unshed tears.
“Dan. If you want me to – if you want me to – I’ll say yes to you now. I’ll say yes, and I’ll stick to it. I’m sure we could make it work, be happy together. I’ll write to Jon and tell him – it was just – it was just a… beautiful dream. And not to come.” A single tear escaped, glinting and leaving a silvery track as it trickled down her cheek.
Dan shook his head gently.
“No, not now, not tonight, Vikki. But I will ask again, and then I’ll insist on an answer.”
He turned away from her, and started the engine. Neither of them spoke for the remainder of the short journey home.
* * * *
“Dear Jon,
I’m thrilled that you’re going to be here next week! I can’t wait! I’d thought it wasn’t going to be until September!
I know we’ve written before about this in our letters, but you’d be more than welcome to come and stay with us. My mum thinks you must be “A real, old-fashioned English gentleman” because you’re planning to stay in a hotel for at least the first few days!
Now, there’s something I must tell you.
When I was little, I was a bit of a tomboy, and my best friend was a boy called Dan. He’s still my best friend now, Jon, and he’s very dear to me. You’re the person I cleave to, but Dan is close too.
The problem is, he proposed marriage to me this evening. I didn’t say yes, but I couldn’t make myself say no.
I must be completely honest with you, Jonathan. It feels to me that the bond between you and me is so special that it demands honesty, perfect honesty, or at least as close to it as I can manage. So – if I hadn’t met you, Jon, I would have accepted Dan’s proposal, and been very happy.
There. I’ve said it. If that changes your mind about coming, then I accept that. Oh, but I so hope it doesn’t! I just want to be close to you!
With much love
Vikki xxx”
Jon read the letter, frowned, and read it again. Then he picked up his pen and wrote.
“Dear Vikki,
Thank you for your honesty in telling me about Dan. I shall see you at Melbourne Airport at about 5 p.m. on July 10th. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to it. I love you more than I can say.
With my whole heart.
Jon
xxx”
He took the letter to the post straightaway. It would, with luck, arrive before he did.
* * * *
Jon was smiling as he tugged his suitcase into the Arrivals area. Where was she? He scanned the waiting faces, the family groups, husbands, wives; the people greeting men in suits who’d flown from England with only a briefcase and laptop; the taxi drivers displaying handwritten signs. There was no Vikki.
Jon frowned. Surely Vikki hadn’t stood him up? She must have been delayed. Perhaps her car had broken down?
He noticed a tall fair-haired man, who appeared to be waving to him. When Jon acknowledged the wave, the man beckoned to him. Stiff-legged, frozen-faced, Jon complied.
“Jonathan Hall?”
Jon nodded, curtly.
The tall man stuck out a hand.
“I’m Dan,” he said. “We have an emergency. Vikki’s disappeared.”
What Pegman Saw – A big ask
“What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. Using the location provided, you must write a piece of flash fiction of no more than 150 words. You can read the rules here. You can find today’s location on this page, from where you can also get the Inlinkz code. This week’s prompt is Hanoi, Vietnam.
Hanoi, Vietnam | © Wonov.com, Google Maps
A big ask
Nguyen Anh Dung was nervous. The table was covered with small dishes of food, spicy prawns, savoury meat, crisp vegetables, tangy fruits. He hoped the American would enjoy it. Perhaps at last his daughter would marry.
The American, Matt, was working in Hanoi despite his memories of imprisonment and torture twenty-five years earlier. He found himself liking the Vietnamese – one of them in particular. Thirty years old, not beautiful but with a quirk to her lips when she smiled that he found irresistible, Nguyen Co^ng won Matt’s heart.
Soon, she took him to her father’s apartment.
The eyes of the two men met; they froze. Then Anh Dung bowed deeply.
“I once did you great wrong,” he said. “Nothing I do now can atone for that. Can you forgive the father’s evil for the sake of his daughter?”
Slowly, Matt unclenched his teeth.
“I guess I can try,” he said.
Friday Fictioneers – Singin’ the blues
Every week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (thank you, Rochelle!) hosts a flash fiction challenge, to write a complete story, based on a photoprompt, with a beginning, middle and end, in 100 words or less. Post it on your blog, and include the Photoprompt and Inlinkz (the blue frog) on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!
PHOTO PROMPT © Yvette Prior
Singin’ the Blues
The cigarette smoke stings my memory.
I remember evenings with Robin. We would play the ‘Moody Blues’ on his hi-fi as we sat on his single bed, our limbs tangled under a blanket, sharing a packet of ‘Disque Bleu’ cigarettes, swigging Heineken and nibbling peanuts.
In our first year at university he asked me to marry him, and I said, “Let’s finish our studies first”.
He asked me again when we graduated, but I said, “I want to complete my PhD first”.
He moved. We wrote. We phoned. We visited.
The smoke teases me. I wonder where Robin is now?
Autumn Leaves 