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Contraposso: an Italian Legend



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Thu May 19, 2011 9:30 pm
cannoncomplex says...



Spoiler! :
before reading the story, i would like to coment that this story is hevaily influenced by Dante and based on the Italian legend of La Pia Tolomei


It’s funny how Wellington changed in a matter of months, when a stout little man gave a brochure to a woman beside me. It was about a new muffin store in Cuba Street that was once a bookstore. The woman made a sharp turn to the left to Manners Street, chucking the brochure at the nearest bin. The man would have been hardened losing a possible customer but he didn’t notice. Instead, he continued handing out brochures to other people. His guardian angel, resting on his shoulder, greeted me and the other wandering souls around him.

A few paces past Burger King, another man was giving away brochures. He wore a long sleeved woollen jacket with the words, “Jesus is coming”. He warned people that the end was near citing the recent earthquakes in Japan and Christchurch. He condemned- more likely- urged a group of teen boys with their hoodies and torn jeans to repent. They told him to shut up; one gave him the finger. I pity the guy but I don’t agree with the whole idea that the end of the world was near. I wasn’t alone since his angel was sighing while his personal demon was chuckling to itself.

I used to live in a cheap flat in Newtown with Nello for a year, after his brother, Ghino, found him a job position as a kiwi exporter in New Zealand. It was weird living in a two bedroom house with the living room, dining room and kitchen mashed together. I knew limited English so I took a course in Wellington High School for most of the day, after which I attend mass at the nearest parish before watching Nello’s soccer practice at Kilbirnie. I missed living in a villa at the town of Castiglione della Pescaia near Grosetto, so it’s nice to meet up with other Italians especially within the Tuscan region of Maremma where I grew up. Wellington was somehow like Castiglione or Grosetto except that the place was always cold and windy, and that the people call themselves from a fruit.

I decided to go to Civic Centre because of the huge globe to often seem to mind since they were used to it already. I wonder how they would react if the globe disappeared one day and then pop back again after a few days. I bet they would just stare at it, checking if it’s fake or not. It was like the time I first saw the globe on the first week I came here to Wellington. It reminded me of the stain glass at the cathedral of San Lorenzo in Grosetto.

“How about we steal it, go back to Grosetto, smash the church’s glass and replace it with this?” Nello pointed at it.
“I can imagine monsignor Giovanni approving it. So can you pose for me? I need to take a photo?”
“He’s your uncle. I’m sure old Vanni can take a joke, and the stain glass has been there for a century. It needs to be modernized and we can always buy him a Pinot Grigio to cheer the fellow up.”
“True, not only will he scold us just like when you stole one of the pews but he’ll force us to pay for the whole damage!”
“No excommunication?”
“You think my uncle would excommunicate me?”
“Yes,”
“Now could you hold still for a moment? I need to take a picture.”

It wasn’t that Nello was against the church but just my uncle worried that I would stay away from his perspective of a ‘good niece’. Back in Grosetto, Nello often visited my uncle after masses critiquing his homilies. This hasn’t change when we arrive in New Zealand but instead of judging the local priest’s parishes, he goes to other churches and bluntly point out the differences. But after I fell down a ravine during a tramp and died, he stayed in his brother’s flat under continuing police investigation.

“So you heard Katy Perry came here a few days ago.”
“Went to the concert, it was terrible music! What's with these people these days? I miss the Beatles. You think, there doing the purge?”
“Well two of them are dead, and Lennon died before us so I think he's in the purge but Ol' Peter doesn’t want to share the details.”
“But you know what terrace, Lennon might be.”
“Hi Pia, I'm guessing the fifth terrace.”
“Or the first, hi Pia....”

Being dead wasn't so bad. The folks here were friendly enough to greet you and then go back to their conversation. Things to do while being dead included wandering around, chatting to other souls and visiting countries for free. I had a talked from a soul who converse with Anne Boleyn. Apparently, Henry VII's second wife switched her head with the Queen of Scot to see what their place was like. There were a few souls, however, who invited me to haunt a particular person or to possess a person. These souls weren't like the preacher or brochure man who had some agenda but because they were bored waiting for their purge, that last for years based on the years a person is ignorant to this reality. I've seen how they do it, and it’s quite fun but that meant adding additional years to my wait, but I don't want to risk it. When I died, my guardian angel got a message from Ol'Peter congratulating me that I haven't fallen down the hole.

“So you'll wait here until your twin's dead?” I began a conversation with Laine on my way to the Railway Station. She was known as the infamous Rain Woman who possessed a number of people and forced them to live within Otaki Forest.”
“I got told that I have ten years before my purge would start but I want to stay longer for my twin, you know? So I possessed about seven people and Ol'Peter got angry that he lengthens my year’s base on the total lifetime of the seven people.”
“You sound happy?”
“What's happier than spending time with your sister, teasing her to the point that she annoyed of my very existence? She's over there eating a Subway sandwich filled with pepper. She hates peppers but she does it to avoid since I also hate peppers.”
“I heard you!” Her sister jumped. “Don't think twice ganking me! I'm onto you! I'll buy more peppers this evening! Just you wait!”
“Just don't spend all your money, Lain.” She laughed. “You got to love her. Her name's Lain with no 'e' while I'm Laine with an 'e'. You're Pia right? People been talking that you're wait has been one of the quickest these days.”
“Ah, thanks.”
“Anyway, I wish you a quick purge. If you're finish, send me a message on what's it like up there. I still got more years before Lain's dead. I hope she won't be sucked for killing me but I'll try my best, along with her guardian angel, that she'll be with me for the purge.”

There was always someone in the family who comes to grieve for me. I bet it’s my uncle because it was good opportunity to put the blame on Nello. Losing me was hard since I was the oldest, and my uncle was the one who baptised, confirmed and gave me my first communion. That was what I told Laine as we waved goodbye to the souls who were boarding the ferry on the way to the purge. Paddy the terrier wagged its tail, trying to catch up. I can imagine myself tomorrow being on the ferry's deck accompanied with other souls around New Zealand. I would wave goodbye to the other waiting souls, and to the little planet that I inhabited during my life.

If only Nello would see what the whole earth was like when you're dead. People walked on a black coal surface, and drank water that looked like tar. Numerous temptation demons sprung up from the surface and hooked themselves on each person. Each one debated against the person's guardian angel whether or not they should side with God or not. It wasn't all grim in here. Whenever the moon shone, a choir of angel can be spotted singing on the surface. How the souls danced on the Bay's surface every windy day, and spread themselves on the beach if it’s too hot.

When a person died, they either be congratulated by Ol' Peter or be dragged down the surface by demons. I've seen about fifty and it’s never a pretty sight. It was like watching a surfer dragged under the sea by a Great White, whilst their guardian angel mourns. That was why Laine wanted to stay longer for the sake of her twin.

I could go back to Maremma to visit my parents who planned to bring my body back to Castiglione. I could also go to Nello. No, I want to go to all of them and ask for some prayers but there was someone I want to meet first. She rented an apartment behind a bus stop near the Station were a group of people calmly waited for the bus. I noticed a guardian angel playing vertical chess against the demon on which one they should fill the person's mind: temptations or good conscience.

No one knew I was once a model after one of Nello’s closest friend, Margherita, invited me to model as the Virgin Mary in Giotto’s Ognissanti Madonna. It was for a company that recreated artworks into digital form, she sent me a copy of the final photo shoot, and it gave me a good impression on what I look like if I went to a convent. Nello commented that if my uncle were to see this he would urge me to go to one. So, I kept it a secret from my uncle, who would have been disappointed and continued to model for about thirty or more photo shoots. It was when we left that I had to terminate my contract. My last portrait that I modelled was in Caravaggio’s Judith beheading Holofernes.

Margherita continued sending us copies of her company’s magazine called, “Contrapasso”. Recently, her company started recreate portraits of German Expressionist such as Kathe Kollwitz, Gabrielle Munter, and Max Ernst. Before this I’ve seen Margherita model as Bernini’s Ecstasy of St. Teresa, Titian’s Danae with nursemaid, and Vermeer’s Girl with the pearl earring, but the one that was the most memorable was Raphael’s Catherine of Alexandria.

With her right arm pressed against her right breast; eyes looking up to the left; and the elegant contrapposto of her pose, Margherita was excellent in mimicking the actual portrait. Nello and I was there when they did the photo shoot, and as we stared on her preparing to do the figure, I realized that there was something sacrilegious on the way looked down, and how her opened cherry-coated lips invited us for a kiss, especially Nello, and how she was leaner than the actual saint. It was like Catherine going on a diet, and became a model. Other than Catherine, Margherita modelled religious figures such as nuns, angels, saints and the Madonna. She wasn’t exactly devout but just wanted to make these figures more attractive to people.

When she heard of my death, I heard that Margherita came to New Zealand, so I had to visit since it saves time on going to Florence where she often work. I was guessing she would support Nello since both of them were close friends. Often they get too intimate that I often pulled Nello away from her. I didn’t mind whether they sat close to each other, kissed each other cheeks or even hugging each other but if it gets too suspicious, that was where I intervened.

“What do you mean you found someone to model for Clara Westhoff? I told you that I’ll be back in week’s time. Can’t you just do Otto’s Sylvia von Harden....yes....I know the deadline but do something else. The boss isn’t that fussy....Oh, it’s for a conference but just wait when I come back. A friend of mine just died so...Pia...yes Pia, she used to model for us remember...I know it’s sad...so can you reserve Westhoff for me until I come back....”
I quietly watched her as I sat on her couch, greeting her guardian angel. I wanted to wait for her to take a nap so that I can ask her to remember me. I couldn’t just scare her by appearing in front of her because it would be considered a haunting since it I need inanimate objects such as a vase or a chair to materialize. I simply have to wait when a door opened, and Ghino arrived. Margherita winked at him as he gave him a light kiss, holding her waist and breathed on her hair. Both guardian angels shook their heads while the demons gave each other a high five.

“How’s Nello?” She placed a hand on the receiver.
“Asleep...he’s alright just a little depressed.”
“How long before he wakes up? I want to pay him a visit?”
“In a couple of hours, we still got plenty of time.”
“I thought you were into Pia? Why the switch?”
“Sadly, she’s gone. Pity,”
“Yeah...pity”

As a child, I often have the belief that when two people are together, they stick together. I remembered the words, “to death till we part” from my cousin’s wedding when I was twelve. I began to value that when I started dating Nello when I was sixteen. I knew that bond between him and Margherita, how he always have a crush on her but if I show how I value him, they will also payback. But it slowly decline when you come to an age, you slowly lose each other, and then part away.

When I was at swimming at the springs in Saturnia, Nello confessed that he was attracted to her. I told him if we should part at that moment. If he had answered yes, I would have dated Ghino, but he had never answered even after all of these years. Even during my photo shoots, his attraction to Margherita was obvious when he looked intently at her but he stuck with me. I calmly walked out of the apartment when Margherita put the phone. I promised to go back after their little intimacy, and decided to visit Nello.

I want to tell him that Ghino was attracted to me, but at the same time, Margherita didn’t come here simply to see me or Nello. It was the other way around. Most of all, however, I want to thank him. My belief of a couple being together was still there even though one of us is dead.
Last edited by cannoncomplex on Sat May 21, 2011 11:17 am, edited 1 time in total.
Lain Iwakura: If you're not remembered, then you never existed.
  





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Fri May 20, 2011 4:14 am
ashjoy7 says...



Your writing is very detailed. I kind of got confused though. You didn't really explain what happened to the main character. Only one sentence described how they died, and then you went right into the ghost thing so you lost me a little. To be honest, I lost interest because I was getting more confused as I read. What's "the purge"?

I liked your general idea. It was really unique and refreshing to read, just be sure to explain everything so that your reader doesn't get lost.
  





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Fri May 20, 2011 11:07 am
cannoncomplex says...



oh, sorry, well...the story itself as i said is based on Dante's Divine Comedy specifically purgatory. The purge describes in the story talks on purgatory.

Here is a link of what I am talking:

http://danteworlds.laits.utexas.edu/purgatory/01antepurgatory.html

In summary, three aspects of Dante are in here:

(1) the character of La Pia. If you scroll down the link, there is a brief comment of La Pia.
(2) the concept of the purge itself: when the story describes waiting, it reflects the setting of the ante-purgatory where the soul have to wait before starting the actual trials.
(3) The 'hole' is basically a reference to hell so when i wrote than when a person got sucked under, it means they went to hell.


As for the characters, here is another link:
http://www.maremmaguide.com/pia-de-tolomei.html

The link describes the characters of the story and why I assigned them a particular role.

On top of that, the story has a number of religious overtones especially the Catholic Church as well as a number of artworks being describe in the story.
Lain Iwakura: If you're not remembered, then you never existed.
  





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Sat May 21, 2011 8:24 pm
Rydia says...



Why hello there! My apologies for the slight delay on this, I just got lured into the most epic BBQ but I digress, I digress. Let's see. I'm a little rusty on my Dante as I haven't had the pleasure of reading him for some time now but this is quite a nice little spoof. You've captured some feel of his language, though there's less of the dark, satirical feel that I remember his works having. And more digressions. You get a little too distracted so the reader gets distracted and it makes for a slightly rambling story.

I'm going to make comments on a few of your paragraphs now, just as I read through:

It’s funny how Wellington changed in a matter of months, when a stout little man gave a brochure to a woman beside me. It was about a new muffin store in Cuba Street that was once a bookstore. [Maybe a little too much info there, it slightly spoils the awesome randomness of a muffin store.] The woman made a sharp turn to the left to [Would be cleaner to simply say 'sharp turn left to Manners Street'.] Manners Street, chucking the brochure at the nearest bin. The man would have been hardened [Not sure what you mean by hardened and I don't think it conveys much to the reader. Maybe dismayed or fatigued? Also, slightly rough wording. You should either change the 'would' to should or change the 'didn't notice' to didn't seem to notice.] losing a possible customer but he didn’t notice. Instead, he continued handing out brochures to other people. His guardian angel, resting on his shoulder, greeted me and the other wandering souls around him. [Slightly awkward last line. Maybe cut the 'around him' part.]

A few paces past Burger King, another man was giving away brochures. He wore a long sleeved woollen jacket with the words, “Jesus is coming”. He warned people that the end was near citing the recent earthquakes in Japan and Christchurch. He condemned- more likely- urged [Urged should be inside the dashes, like -more likely urged- though I'm not sure it works anyway. Usually that's used when... well when you're being satirical or when it's a complete opposite reaction. Like, you could write: 'He condemned – more likely encouraged – a group of teenage boys who were vandalising a brick wall with the toes of their dirty, old sneakers and neon spray paint.] a group of teen boys with their hoodies and torn jeans to repent. They told him to shut up; one gave him the finger. I pity the guy but I don’t agree with the whole idea that the end of the world was near. [Should be past tense.] I wasn’t alone since his angel was sighing while his personal demon was chuckling to itself.

I used to live in a cheap flat in Newtown with Nello for a year, after his brother, Ghino, found him a job position as a kiwi exporter in New Zealand. It was weird living in a two bedroom house with the living room, dining room and kitchen mashed together. I knew limited English so I took a course in Wellington High School for most of the day, after which I attended mass at the nearest parish before watching Nello’s soccer practice at Kilbirnie. I missed living in a villa at the town of Castiglione della Pescaia near Grosetto, so it’s nice to meet up with other Italians especially within the Tuscan region of Maremma where I grew up. Wellington was somehow like Castiglione or Grosetto except that the place was always cold and windy, and that the people call themselves from a fruit. [I'm probably missing some pretty funny joke here so you might want to fill your readers in a bit more as this just sounds odd otherwise. Also, you're losing my attention. You don't give enough details about the angels and such before heading off down the geographical route so I'm not intrigued enough to really care. Plus, the two styles of writing don't really mesh together. You have this casual, descriptive style and then this other abrupt, slightly humorous tone. I'd suggest picking one and sticking with it.]

I decided to go to Civic Centre because of the huge globe to often seem to mind since they were used to it already. [This sentence doesn't make any sense Who don't seem to mind?] I wonder how they would react if the globe disappeared one day and then popped back again after a few days. I bet they would just stare at it, checking if it’s fake or not. [How would they check it's fake by staring? I think wondering would be a better word here.] It was like the time I first saw the globe on the first week I came here to Wellington. It reminded me of the stain glass at the cathedral of San Lorenzo in Grosetto.

It wasn’t that Nello was against the church but just my uncle worried that I would stay stray away from his perspective of a ‘good niece’. Back in Grosetto, Nello often visited my uncle after masses critiquing his homilies. This hasn’t changed when we arrive in New Zealand but instead of judging the local priest’s parishes, he goes to other churches and bluntly point out the differences. But after I fell down a ravine during a tramp [Tramp is a bad choice of word, choose another. Also, would like to see more hints that she is dead first. I got it from the beginning part of the whole wandering souls thing but was starting to forget because of all your diversions.] and died, he stayed in his brother’s flat under continuing police investigation.

“Went to the concert, it was terrible music! What's with these people these days? I miss the Beatles. You think, there they're doing the purge?”

Being dead wasn't so bad. The folks here were friendly enough to greet you and then go back to their conversation. Things to do while being dead included wandering around, chatting to other souls and visiting countries for free. I had a talked from a soul who converse [Something going very wrong here! Maybe try, 'I had a conversation with a soul who had spoken with Anne Boleyn'] with Anne Boleyn. Apparently, Henry VII's second wife switched her head with the Queen of Scotts to see what their place was like. There were a few souls, however, who invited me to haunt a particular person or to possess a person. These souls weren't like the preacher or brochure man who had some agenda but because they were bored waiting for their purge, that which could last for years based on the years a person is ignorant to this reality. I've seen how they do it, and it’s quite fun but that meant adding additional years to my wait, but and I don't want to risk it. When I died, my guardian angel got a message from Ol'Peter congratulating me that I haven't hadn't fallen down the hole.

“I got told that I have ten years before my purge would will start but I want to stay longer for my twin, you know? So I possessed about seven people and Ol'Peter got so angry that he lengthens[/s]ed my year’s [No apostrophe.] based on the total lifetime of the seven people.”

“What's happier than spending time with your sister, teasing her to the point that she gets annoyed of my very existence? She's over there eating a Subway sandwich filled with pepper. She hates peppers but she does it to avoid me since I also hate peppers.”

“I heard you!” Her sister jumped. “Don't think twice about ganking me! I'm onto you! I'll buy more peppers this evening! Just you wait!”

“Just don't spend all your money, Lain.” She laughed. “You got to love her. Her name's Lain with no 'e' while I'm Laine with an 'e'. You're Pia right? People been talking saying that you're your wait has been one of the quickest these days.”

“Anyway, I wish you a quick purge. If you're finish, [Not sure what you meant here.] send me a message on what's it like up there. I still got more years before Lain's dead. I hope she won't be sucked for killing me but I'll try my best, along with her guardian angel, so that she'll be with me for the purge.”
There was always someone in the family who comes came to grieve for me. I bet it’s my uncle does it because it'swas a good opportunity to put the blame on Nello. Losing me was hard since I was the oldest, and my uncle was the one who baptised, confirmed and gave me my first communion. That was what I told Laine as we waved goodbye to the souls who were boarding the ferry on the way to the purge. Paddy the terrier wagged its tail, trying to catch up. I can imagine myself tomorrow being on the ferry's deck accompanied with other souls around New Zealand. I would wave goodbye to the other waiting souls, and to the little planet that I inhabited during my life.

When a person died, they were either be congratulated by Ol' Peter or be dragged down the surface by demons. I've seen about fifty and it’s never a pretty sight. It was like watching a surfer dragged under the sea by a Great White, whilst their guardian angel mourns. That was why Laine wanted to stay longer for the sake of her twin.

I'm actually going to stop doing the nitpicks there as the next few paragraphs are worded so strangely. I'm guessing from your tenses and way of writing that English isn't your first language? If not then bravo for what you've managed but you might want to work on tenses and sentence structure a little more. If you are English, and I intend to cause no offence, you should perhaps read some more and try to get a better feel for how tenses and sentence structure works.
A few general comments then:

Plot

It needs to be stronger, or weaker strangely enough. Allow me to explain. Either you need to make what you have more exciting and that way you can keep all the detail you have, or you need to cut out big chunks of the detail and make this more episodic as many comic novels do. You'd have to make the scene transactions sharper and the details less weighty but that would help hold your reader's interest more. The trouble is, at the moment, the best parts of this are your dialogue and it makes me just want to skip the ramblings about paintings and go straight to the meat of your writing. The dialogue is good and it's refreshing with a nice touch of humour, some strong characterisation. If you could make the rest of this like that then you'd have a very strong piece but at the moment it's just too easy to get bored.

I think what you need to do is decide what sort of style you're going for. Is this going to be a 'voice' novel? In which case you would have to make Pia that little bit more distinct and more chatty. If you want to go for a 'plot' novel, you need a stronger plot that doesn't split off along so many diversions and that unfolds itself more quickly.

Overall

There are parts of this I like. A lot of your opening is really nice, the dialogue is good, the idea of playing with characters who are dead and viewing the human world from the outside is great. And there's a good bit of wit and humour to it. However, it needs work. There's too much filler that needs to be cut away or if you want to keep it, you need to either make it more interesting or make Pia's voice more interesting. It's a good effort so far but I do think it's going to take some work to turn it into a master-piece. I hope this helps somewhat and feel free to get in touch if you have questions and such,

Heather xxx
Writing Gooder

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