Experiments in style: book reviews

Plus: the solution to last week's mystery technique!

Book reviewer

Greetings!

Welcome to my ongoing (and potentially never-ending!) project, experiments in style. The Introduction below explains what it’s all about, but if you already know then just go straight to the reworked version, below.

Enjoy!

Introduction

One of the things I’ve been trying out is reworking a piece of text into a completely different style. A full exposition and explanation are given here:

Experimenting with styles

Here is the original text on which these experiments or transformations are based:

The original (template) text

In the middle of the night, I woke up (if you can call being semi-conscious being awake), walked purposefully towards the door to go to the bathroom — and almost knocked myself out.

The reason was that in the twin states of entire darkness and semi-somnambulance I was facing in a different direction from the one I thought I was facing. As a result, instead of walking through the door, I tried to walk through the wall.

The next few days brought nausea and headaches. After much prevarication I went to Accident and Emergency, where I waited petrified among people for whom “social distancing” means not quite touching you, and who wore their masks as a chin-warmer.

An hour and a half later I emerged into the twilight, secure in the knowledge that I had nothing more serious than mild concussion. I failed to do much writing, but I was pleased to have read a further 17% of my book.

That mystery technique (1)

Before I reveal what I was doing last week in that post, you might wish to pop over there are look at my pinned comment. I added a clue in the form of several sentences, using another technique favoured by Oulipians, but is an example of what they call anticipatory plagiarism — because that technique has been used for millennia. It is even to be found in the Bible (in Psalms, for instance).

And now for today’s versions.

Book review 1

(Note: this review contains spoilers.)

Readers familiar with the writing of Terry Freedman, including such works as “Go on, bore ‘em: how to make ICT lessons excruciatingly dull”, “A guide to desktop publishing” and, of course, the seminal “Managing ICT” will no doubt be surprised at this foray into memoir. Perhaps we may borrow from Dr Johnson, and suggest that the surprise is not so much that it has been done badly, but that it has been done at all.

The “story”, if it may be graced with such a description, since it is little more than an anecdote really, contains nothing of earth-shattering importance. The protagonist bangs his head because he loses his way in his own bedroom, suffers from the inevitable headaches and feels nauseous. Eventually, he takes himself to the local hospital, where he worries about the lack of social distancing and poor mask discipline in evidence. Finally, he is informed that there’s nothing wrong with him that won’t be cured by a week or two of taking it easy. We are also told, almost as an afterthought, that while he was waiting to be seen in the hospital he managed to read some more of his book.

Had this flimsiest of plots been supported by character development or a sense of tension and its relief, “A bang on the head” might have been just about bearable. As it is, its only saving grace is that it is short.

Rating: *

Book review 2

(Note: this review contains spoilers.)

In this heartrending departure from nonfiction into autobiographical fiction, Terry Freedman takes us on an emotional roller-coaster as he describes an incident that happens in the middle of the night, and its consequences.

In what in another context might be humorous, the protagonist literally gets out of the wrong side of bed and, in the darkness, walks into a brick wall instead of the door.

We are kept in agonising suspense while the author describes how he procrastinated and dithered about seeking medical advice. When he finally decides to do so, he is confronted with a scene in Accident & Emergency which could have been based on Bosch’s The Last Judgment. People not social distancing despite the prevalence of Covid, and not wearing their masks properly. It is quite clearly implied that he worries that he may not survive the experience.

Fortunately, though, the story ends on a positive note, and even includes the small but by no means minor detail that he managed to read some more of his book.

Highly recommended. The only fly in the ointment is that it is rather short.

Star rating: ****

That mystery technique (2)

Firstly, that clue I mentioned earlier. Take the first letter of each sentence of the following:

It is right to provide one more clue. Solutions are better appreciated when they are hard-won, but occasionally a little latitude is in order. Of course, my clue is in itself an Oulipian subterfuge, cloaking the answer in plain sight. Got to keep people on their toes! Reading between the lines won't help you, I'm afraid. And don't even think about attempting to bribe me to reveal the answer early: I am impervious. Master the quality of patience, and we will all benefit!

It spells “isogram”, which is the name of the technique I used. An isogram is a constraint in which no word may contain more than one of each letter. Thus “wall” was out because it has two ‘L’s; nauseous was out because it has two ‘U’s and two ‘S’s.

Indeed, lots of words in the original piece couldn’t be used with this constraint applied.

What’s the point? Well, it forced me to tie myself in verbal knots trying to find alternative ways of expressing myself. It’s never a bad thing for writers to stretch themselves!

I found it interesting that several commenters were looking at quite deep forces at work. In a sense, the constraint was as simple as you can get. It wasn’t easy to apply though!

I hope you found that interesting, and that you enjoyed reading the book review versions. Comments?