 |
| Canonical Babbling in Peed Onk: Now, Where Is the Money? |
Can you see how this fiction is not only telling a compelling story (who could ignore a baby with cancer?) but also telling a story about telling a story?
If you wish, you could compare this story to one of the others ("You're Ugly, Too" or "How to Become a Writer") in our anthology. What can you observe more broadly about Moore's writing moves?
In "People Like That Are the Only People Here," one of the first things that stuck out to me and began to frame this as a story within a story was the capitalization of the nouns, such as Baby, Mother, Husband, etc. When those nouns were capitalized, it lightened the feeling of the story and separated the reader and the narrator from the story being told. Also, the Mother is described in how she relates to the baby, but the Husband is described in how he relates to the Mother. One of the key lines that exemplified this lightness to me was from the very beginning, "Such pleasingly instant service! Just say 'blood.' Just say 'diaper.' Look what you get" (715)! This type of upbeat language is not something you would typically expect from a mother worrying about the health of her baby. However, we begin to understand, specifically through the dialogue between Mother and Husband, that this is how the narrator copes.
ReplyDeleteThere is a shift, indicating the story within the story, on page 721. The narrator begins to speak to "you," drawing the reader in and additionally, allowing a closer personal look at the smallest details and the tiniest struggles that a family goes through in Pediatric Oncology.
In "People Like That Are the Only People Here," one of the first things that stuck out to me was when the Husband mentioned the Mother as a writer. Once that was mentioned I started noticing the techniques Moore used. Moore's writing had a stream of consciousness that added to the Mother's panicked mindset. There were a few indicators that separated the story from telling the story (does that make sense?). First, Moore's use of "Take Notes" gave more detailed into how the family was trying to adjust to their Baby being in surgery. Second, Moore capitalized nouns (Baby, Husband, etc.) instead of names to separate both the reader and narrator from the story. Just an assumption, I feel that Moore's technique of separating the reader and narrator from the story also adds to the Mother's dissociation of trying to cope with what's going on. A few other writing moves I noticed was the cheerful, sarcastic comments the Mother made was another form of coping, and the brief moments where words or phrases were repeated. For example, "...and is, and is, she swears it is" (page 732), could be viewed as the Mother trying to console herself, and as adding to the panic/grief mindset.
ReplyDeleteThe language of Mother was one of my favorite things about this piece. In a weird way, it reminded me of my brother. I'm very open with my emotions, yet my brother is not. It just makes us who we are - as such, I am keen to notice how and when my brother showcases his emotions. Whenever there is something going on that is stressful or emotionally draining, his sarcastic quips come out a lot more. Then and only then will I know that whatever situation is going on is affecting him.
ReplyDeleteIn the case of Mother, I saw her sarcasm as a way of not only protecting herself but others - if she wasn't sarcastic, she would cry or scream or something much worse. I got the feeling that she also had a public facade to protect, one that she had been projecting to the world. If she pretends that things are fine, she doesn't have to confront the reality of the situation. Additionally, I agree with the assumption that the nouns are a way of developing Mother's dissociation from the situation. She can't be - refuses to be - close to the situation, even though, as her name Mother suggests, she is just about the closest anyone can be to this situation.
Moore intermingles two stories with the same idea; failure. The Mother in “People Like That Are The Only People Here” fights against her feelings of guilt over her inability to be a ‘good mother’ from two fronts; that she is helpless to help her son in the wake of his illness, and also that she has to resort to writing about the events that follow in order to pay for his treatment. Unlike “How to Become a Writer,” The Mother figure isn’t trying to get a story out; she actively does not want to write about this, but has no choice (just as she has no choice in what has happened to her son). Moore writes a fiction from the lens of someone forced into nonfiction, and that twist allows her to double down on the emotional key point of the piece from two angles. The Mother swaps out the names of her loved ones and herself in the text in an attempt to distance herself from the truth, and (in a way similar to “You’re Ugly, Too”) revels in the negative emotions of the characters. The Mother is angry, resentful, and terrified throughout the whole piece, humor aside, and is doing everything she can to push away from her horrifying new life even as she writes to “sell” that sentiment.
ReplyDeleteFirst of all, I officially love Lorrie Moore. And tragicomedy. Secondly, the idea of telling a story about telling a story was most clear to me at the ending, when it said "There are the notes. Now where is the money?" I loved that ending. All throughout the story, the Husband was telling the Mother to take notes, take notes. They need the money. So it's as if the story was the notes, although the commands to take the notes were inside the story. It's an enigma salad. There are also quite a few asides in parenthesis, toward which I'm never sure who it is directed. Often, in these parenthesis, "baby" is not capitalized, but outside of the parenthesis, the baby is referred to as the Baby. It's as if the statements in the parenthesis are outside of the main character-narrator and simply within the narrator. It's all very confusing and intriguing, and I love Lorrie Moore, and all of these stories.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Val, I also LOVE Lorrie Moore, and would love to read more by her. I also had never heard the term tragicomedy before, but it definitely makes sense, and I am intrigued by her brand of dark humor. I write a lot of dark (or darkish) things I think, but am horrible at humor, and I would like to try to mingle the two to create something reminiscent of Moore's work. It's hard to place, but the narrative voice in all three stories definitely remains the same (in a good way), but the topics are all very different. The thing that most intrigued me was how the different stories all seemed to have some sort of relationship with the reader, some acknowledgement of the reader's presence in reading the story. This was most striking to me (though not most prominent) in the last story, out of the three. There is the underlying struggle of the mother to believe and accept her son's illness, and to be able to talk or write about it. In the end, it becomes clear that she was aware she was telling this story to someone, though to who is unclear. I like to interpret it as her coming to terms with/thinking about the baby's cancer, and how it has impacted her family. This story could be to herself, sarcastically, where is the money for writing all this down, which I think is the most realistic notion, because even if this were the main character writing about her life to publish it, that's not how you would send a submission, I don't think. At the very least, you wouldn't call it notes. Or maybe you would-I digress. I enjoy the slightly mystery and meta-ish ending/details of this last piece, especially.
ReplyDeleteI very rarely tear up when I read anything. I did, reading People Like That. It's an exercise in telling us about a person more than it is in telling us about a set of events. Through this form of telling a story about a story we get to see more internalized details from the "author's" perspective than we would even in a first-person piece. Writing about writing leaves bare many character flaws that would otherwise be concealed from us. We know exactly what the narrator is thinking because her entire perspective has been expertly crafted and then mined for the most telling parts to put on display. One thing I did take issue with in this story and You're Ugly, Too is the lack of a concrete ending. Both dealt with illness and diagnoses, yet neither provided any concrete explanation as to what the hell happened. I kept waiting for an answer and I hate that I never got one.
ReplyDeleteLorrie Moore's stories and writing is so unique it's hard to believe anyone can duplicate her style. I agree with Honor and Ashleigh that Moore does a really great job at involving the reader in the story even if the names are universalized. I felt personally connected with the characters, but I did not ever feel like crying. I do not mean to say that in a bad way because Moore fuses comedy with tragedy (tragicomedy) so well that she's able to weave in a laugh in every paragraph. The story's heavy emotional moments are lightened with the perfect balance of humor so that as a reader, we still feel the heavy heartedness, but can keep a positive state of mind while reading. Her use of figurative language is always so simple yet effective to drive her point across, and this was something I noticed was prevalent in all three stories. I was also thinking about the "surprise endings" we discussed in class and I realized how she really didn't surprise me as a reader, but that the real enjoyment of her work comes through in the meat of the story, leaving me to want more as reader. I really like her work and see myself reading more in the future!
ReplyDeleteI found myself easily engaged with Lorrie Moore's tone in all of her pieces. She has a way with sarcastic observation that's very well balanced. Sometimes a sarcastic or cynical narrator can become across as totally unlikable or unsympathetic. But Moore's style was more in the vein of a playful, inclusive wink to the audience. It wasn't necessarily a conversational approach to the audience, but it was enough to feel as though the author was including the audience.
ReplyDeleteI really liked Moore's approach to character, especially in "People Like That Are the Only People Here." There is very limited character description, with people receiving titles instead of names. What we learn about the characters, comes through the natural course of their actions and words throughout the story. I love this approach. I personally find that new writers often focus way too much on the hard, cosmetic details of their characters – telling you everything from exactly how tall they are, to exactly what they're wearing. That works better in a novel setting. But you don't have the luxury of that kind of description in a short story. Who the characters are is important, but in such a small amount of space, the character building process really has to be expedited. Moore seems to agree with me that what people look like matters far less than how they interact with other characters, and what they do on the page. That's where the true character really lies.
In Lorrie Moore's "People Like That Are the Only People Here", she manages to seamlessly blend the story of the child with cancer with the narrator's ability to write a story about it. In essence, the piece is about not only the story, but the process of writing a story. Moore manages to blend these two themes by using disconnection. The narrator's disconnection from The Husband, who urges her to Take Notes, shows how an author has difficulty writing when other more emotional issues are present. The disconnect between the narrator and the fellow parents of cancerous children shows how everyone deals with these emotional events. The disconnect between writing and this tragic story is further shown when the Surgeon takes The Mother aside so that he can have her sign a copy of her book, not thinking about how she's a mother dealing with a baby fresh out of surgery. This sense of disconnect also shows up in the first page with the Mother's desire to take the blood in the diaper and thinks, "Perhaps it belongs to someone else." (715) That visceral sense of disconnect of this blood, this illness with the Baby, is present from the very beginning to the very end, where she refuses the Chemo and the nurses and other parents and the Husband all want/expect the Chemo for the Baby. The Husband imploring the Mother to take notes and her refusal to write outside of her genre takes the plot of this story, and makes it about the process of writing a story.
ReplyDeleteLorrie Moore's "People Like that are the Only People Here" tells the story of a child with cancer and a mother's process of having a child with cancer. The mother's observances and the narrative style itself allows for the meta processes/ metafictionality of the stpry to prosper and flourish. The readers of the story experience the anguish of the mother and the anguish of other parents through this metafiction style.
ReplyDeleteI'm incredibly impressed With Lorrie Moore's "People Like That Are the Only People Here" for many reasons, it's tone is unmistakably aired with the topic, and I'm totally unclear as to whether or not it has any root in her real life. The plot is spliced together to create a meshwork of things that are indistinguishable from fact or fiction and lie somewhere in between, while author seems to both empathize and laugh at you in your confusion and openly rapt attention. Which is especially accentuated by the ending line, "There are the notes./ where is my money."
ReplyDeleteLori Moore's work is very good at being introspective. Not only for herself, but also the reader. Her use of the second person allows the reader to embody the characters being talked about in the stories. It adds relatability to the characters and allows the humor to come out more naturally. Of course, this also achieves the 'telling a story within the story' setup Moore is going for. Moore lets the reader think for themselves by putting them in the character's minds.
ReplyDelete