a mind like a twelve year old boy
i'm finally reading the wake by paul kingsnorth, which was shortlong-listed for the man booker prize in, um, 2014.
(todayiamadaisy inspired me with her yearly reading of the short-listed novels, so in 2014 i decided to attempt it. so far i've managed to finish a grand total of one - the blazing world by siri hustvedt. i abandoned both the lives of others by neel mukherjee (dull) and orfeo by richard powers (pretentious as fuck - a shame because i loved his novel the echo makers). in my defence it hasn't been easy getting these books from the library because apparently everyone else in my local area also wants to read them. and i haven't felt like paying the $2 fee each time i have to reserve one of them. because that's ridiculous.)
but anyway, the wake. i love novels that experiment with language. riddley walker was my first exposure to it, then random acts of senseless violence, which plays more with the de-evolution of language than creating something new. the wake is definitely challenging and i can understand why it might have a narrow appeal. but i think it's brilliant and i love the theory behind the 'shadow tongue' kingsnorth created to tell the story: the idea that the 'old english' spoken in 1066 was so different from what we now know as english as to be another language. and that the words available to someone in large part dictate the ways in which they're able to think and conceptualise the world.
the topic itself (the norman invasion of england) isn't something i'd otherwise be interested in, and the narrator is, frankly, a complete douche, but the language - the puzzle and flow of it - is so compelling. it's like its own story within the story. i love it. and i love that while kingsnorth has provided a brief glossary and a few notes on pronunciation, for the most part he expects the reader to figure it out for themself. which is frustrating and rewarding in equal measure. the marvellous sense of triumph when i finally figure out what a word is - how it should sound and what it means. it's a tremendously effortful reading experience and i'm not sure i've ever enjoyed the process of reading so much before.
it's also, at times, very, very funny. especially because i have read far too much smut and i now cannot set aside the modern meaning of a certain word or overlay it with its meaning in the novel. especially when it's repeated.
but i sceolde spec with care for i did call and sum thing
sum thing cum
sum one cum
sum one cum and is still here
and the twelve year old boy inside of me is snickering and adult me is trying to shut him up but with little success. in context it's a very sinister passage, but all the same it's like having double vision and i can't unsee the more, er, carnal connotation.
(for reference, 'sceolde' = should, and 'spec' = speak.)
(another interesting aspect of the language is that there are no capital letters and hardly any punctuation. so there are few signposts that modern readers would ordinarily rely on to tell them where things end and begin. it's kind of like a fast, winding river of narrative, or maybe a jungle with a barely marked trail. i've often had to stop and go back because i've read past the end of one thought and into the next and lost the sense of the thing. though now that i'm about a third of the way through i think i've developed the knack of reading the flow as well as the language, so that i don't seem to be backtracking as much as i first was. victory! or, as kingsnorth has it, sige!)
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This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth. If you feel inclined, comment there.
(todayiamadaisy inspired me with her yearly reading of the short-listed novels, so in 2014 i decided to attempt it. so far i've managed to finish a grand total of one - the blazing world by siri hustvedt. i abandoned both the lives of others by neel mukherjee (dull) and orfeo by richard powers (pretentious as fuck - a shame because i loved his novel the echo makers). in my defence it hasn't been easy getting these books from the library because apparently everyone else in my local area also wants to read them. and i haven't felt like paying the $2 fee each time i have to reserve one of them. because that's ridiculous.)
but anyway, the wake. i love novels that experiment with language. riddley walker was my first exposure to it, then random acts of senseless violence, which plays more with the de-evolution of language than creating something new. the wake is definitely challenging and i can understand why it might have a narrow appeal. but i think it's brilliant and i love the theory behind the 'shadow tongue' kingsnorth created to tell the story: the idea that the 'old english' spoken in 1066 was so different from what we now know as english as to be another language. and that the words available to someone in large part dictate the ways in which they're able to think and conceptualise the world.
the topic itself (the norman invasion of england) isn't something i'd otherwise be interested in, and the narrator is, frankly, a complete douche, but the language - the puzzle and flow of it - is so compelling. it's like its own story within the story. i love it. and i love that while kingsnorth has provided a brief glossary and a few notes on pronunciation, for the most part he expects the reader to figure it out for themself. which is frustrating and rewarding in equal measure. the marvellous sense of triumph when i finally figure out what a word is - how it should sound and what it means. it's a tremendously effortful reading experience and i'm not sure i've ever enjoyed the process of reading so much before.
it's also, at times, very, very funny. especially because i have read far too much smut and i now cannot set aside the modern meaning of a certain word or overlay it with its meaning in the novel. especially when it's repeated.
but i sceolde spec with care for i did call and sum thing
sum thing cum
sum one cum
sum one cum and is still here
and the twelve year old boy inside of me is snickering and adult me is trying to shut him up but with little success. in context it's a very sinister passage, but all the same it's like having double vision and i can't unsee the more, er, carnal connotation.
(for reference, 'sceolde' = should, and 'spec' = speak.)
(another interesting aspect of the language is that there are no capital letters and hardly any punctuation. so there are few signposts that modern readers would ordinarily rely on to tell them where things end and begin. it's kind of like a fast, winding river of narrative, or maybe a jungle with a barely marked trail. i've often had to stop and go back because i've read past the end of one thought and into the next and lost the sense of the thing. though now that i'm about a third of the way through i think i've developed the knack of reading the flow as well as the language, so that i don't seem to be backtracking as much as i first was. victory! or, as kingsnorth has it, sige!)
--
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth. If you feel inclined, comment there.