The young man ceased reading from his lofty book intermittently. It was only between feeble interest in the material and acute pain that he read well. The words were a strain on his feeble eyes and so after a page or so they began to simply slide past his mind without leaving the slightest impression. He looked up from the page and to the narrow aisle before him. The floor was carpeted with an elegant red fabric. His eyes turned to the windows lined with frost, and he noted a few blue birds flitting across the grey, somber sky. These windows were framed by violet silk drapes. Some passengers had left these drapes as they were before boarding, and some had already succumbed to slumber and therefore had undone the drapes to protect themselves from the piercing afternoon sunlight. The sunlight was, however, a boon of sorts; it had been a dastardly cold week-end and the sun, while doing little to ameliorate the overall and equally piercing cold, could be mildly enjoyed by some. Some of those that had already boarded stuffed their hands in the underarms of the overcoats with a pained look of what soon became thorough annoyance; the train had not departed. People of the lower rungs were just boarding the other cars after the privileged were given priority seating on this car. Many looked at their watches frequently with irritation and some of those guests already seated were woefully attempting to enjoy a first glass of wine or the daily journal. As more passengers, free of their luggage, clambered through the narrow passageway and found vacant seats aboard the Tsar Nikolai car, this young man could no longer be bothered to stare at the commotion. He had been staring for several minutes at the incoming passengers, as he was one of the first to be seated, but had now grown bored of the movement of people.
There was one woman, he noted, of about forty years sitting on the row ahead of his own and on the opposite side of the passageway. He oftentimes casually glanced over in her direction to observe as she chatted with a gentleman sitting to her left. He noted she wore a gold bracelet on her right arm and a slight tear on her dress near the hem of her pale green dress. He noted this very minute tear when she crossed her legs. And he observed, casually, that she had the habit of wiping her brow at regular times in her speech. He could not quite make out what she was speaking of exactly, but he did see, from the corner of his eye, as he very much did not want to be perceived as some strange observer, slight bends forming at her rosy lips every so often. She smiled now and then. The gentleman to her left was a little more interesting, he thought. He was not very old, but certainly did appear to be some ten years her senior. He wore a dazzling silver watch on his left wrist, which he often plunged into the air as a mannerism accompanying his speech. He had removed his cravat, revealing a small, old wound on his neck just below his ear. While casually surveying the contents of his field of vision, the young man also noticed that this man carried a firearm or knife; the man had reached to scratch his right side and revealed a holster of some sort attached to his waist. But this man and the woman she spoke with became boring soon, while he did pay quite a bit of attention to them.
“It’s just about time!” cried a hideously portly woman as she clutched a copy of the morning’s Sibirskaia Gazeta. She directed her gaze and speech at the young man seated to her right, who heard her, while ever so wanting not to have. But, deciding upon his gentlemanly manner, he acknowledged her with a slight bow of the head.
“Indeed, ma’am,” replied the young man courteously and without knowing or caring what he was in effect agreeing to. He took a look at the woman and decided that she was only interesting insofar as he did not have to actually interact with here. This was perhaps how he felt about most people. But he did like looking around. He attempted to turn back to his book, sitting squarely upon his lap. He had covered his legs with a warm extra coat he cleverly decided to bring on board with him. The words on the page produced too much of a strain, however, and so turned back to the woman who was now rudely slurping what seemed to be a fantastically miniature glass of liquor in her almost grotesque hands. They were gnarled and clearly overworked, but fat. The vermilion finish on her nails seemed to be a less-than-subtle reminder that this was in fact a woman with class and style, and not some hellish impersonator.
From her hands, his eyes squirmed to the bright lights above him. Beautifully delicate lights were hung along the ornate ridges of the ceiling, adjacent to the silver frames of the windows. Each bulb was meticulously veiled with a thin, white, velvety curtain in such a way so as to create slight creases and folds in the fabric. The light, as it fled from the crystal bulbs, created an iridescent halo which only slightly permeated the veils. The young man observed as these colors danced around the crests and dips of the creases and folds, creating splendid, and in fact, mesmerizing colors emanating from the dainty curtains. He had never before seen the ocean but imagined that it would leave a very similar impression.
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139,529 Literary Works • 672,599 Reviews
I love how you use different kinds of unique word choice to explain the thoughts of the main character. I also like how you describe the book and it’s contents with personification and other literary devices. I’d love to see where you are going with this story because it sounds really interesting and I’d love to read a full version. Keep working on this one, it’s pretty damn cool.
-Ruby
Thanks very much for reading. Several other full chapters have already been posted.
Lemons
The descriptions of the traincar and of the people that the viewer is seeming is very detailed. While I do enjoy the details I would like read about the emotions that the main character is feeling. This would make the character more relatable if the reader could both see and feel what the main character is seening and feeling. Just a thought.
ok, i am gonna be straight forward.
first, words- in the first para, you used "feeble" in two sentences which came one after another, in other words, repeating of the same adjective. I don't appreciate it. I think, you can use a synonym of the word.
pained or painted?
In the 2nd para, you used "He noted" twice - another synonym usage suggested. Same goes for the word "casually".
And I would like you to reconsider these words- intermittently, hideously portly,squirmed ,Beautifully( I point it out cus with all other descriptions, the word felt flat) ,meticulously.
then the grammar-
I think the "and" is not needed here.
I don't quite get it. Boarding before or before boarding?
Instead of ; i think, : will be better to use .
while is followed by continuous tense.
this confused me.. are you talking about the woman the young man was observing talking with another man to her left before?? us if you are, the description doesn't really portray so.
not woman, i think the mood of class and style is stressed here.
and the last para was really awesome. I loved it, honestly.. i feel like, i am gonna read it over and over again..specially the last line.
now, the criticism. i agree with the others that this piece isn't really creating any curiosity in the mind of the reader, which is the main task of the first part of the novel.
most importantly, i expected the novel to start with a letter.. but it didn't. the letter might catch the attention of the reader and instill the curiosity in him..unlike this starting.
also, you wrote it like this that the young man was emotionally tired of reading something- i am guessing the letters, however, would he read the letters or write them? wouldn't writing them be more realistic? I mean, he would write the letter to his gf and not read them, and even if he reads them, you gotta mention that he failed to send them to her. and then you mention that the train hasn't started yet. well, will your young man start reading his letters right after getting on the train? shouldn't he be reading it when the train is running? at least, that's what my imagination suggests me would be better.
it's all up to you how you wanna create the situation. that was all i could think of. hope it helps.
I will, for now, skip your comments on the words and grammar. Thanks for the comment on the last paragraph, I enjoyed writing it and still enjoy reading it myself.
I had considered starting the novel with the letter the young man receives from his sister (saying that his mom is deathly ill), as it would be dramatic. But I didn't do this for a reason. I want the reader to have the same experience as the young man: observing the train carefully at first, noticing the details with almost obsessive quality, and even with a bit of boredom. The novel /must/ start boring. The art demands it. And, soon enough, in like the next page, he is thrust away from his obsessions and attention to detail when he remembers the letter and reads it again (in the rest of the chapter). This is where I want the drama to begin, not in the actual beginning of the novel. I find starting with the letter in the beginning to be too cliche and I wouldn't do a good job building up from there anyways. It would be too similar to Albert Camus's "The Stranger" first page.
There are no letters to read. The only letter he gets is one he already got (the one with his sister telling him about his ill mother). He only writes the letters to his gf, and he starts when the train starts, later on.
Thanks again,
Lemons
hmm, gotcha your point. thanks again for clearing the idea and you are most welcome..
I quite liked your story so far, but I'm not sure if I would continue to read it for several reasons.
Firstly, there doesn't seem to be any characterization of our protagonist. If done well this can lead to intrigue and curiosity for the story, like in "The Dark Tower" series by Stephen King, but it feels rather out of place here. We learn that he prefers to observe others rather than interact, but we get no solid information about him as a person. Is he a part of the seemingly rich society which surrounds him, or is he an outsider?
Secondly, the narration itself feels too heavy. Many complicated and long words are used which draw the reader away from the action and narrative flow, making the book feel longer. In my opinion, using simpler words in morst cases would help making this book an easier read. As it is right now, even the first sentence if off-putting for an outsider. A lot in described in this section of the book, but not much happens at all. This, combined with the lack of characterization leaves a potential reader with nothing to attract them to this story.
I hope you understand my concers and I wish you luck in the future.
- Haredrier
Hi,
Thanks very much for you review. I appreciate very much the things you've brought up, especially your thoughts on the young man. I would point out that the prose is supposed to be quite "heavy" and in the 19th century style. I willingly sacrifice any amount of viewership for this goal. I am not a professional writer, nor do I want to be one. That doesn't mean that I don't think very highly and respectfully of writing as an art form. In fact, I will certainly consider some of your suggestions concerning word choice, sentence length, etc.
I encourage you to read more of the novel which is posted here; you'll find much more characterization. I actually found it funny that you mentioned a lack of characterization since this is an idea which is very central to the development of the philosophical themes, but, of course, this is only the first page.
Thanks again,
Lemons
Hello Lemons! Welcome to YWS
This reminded me a bit of Anna Karenina or something equivalent. Russia in literature always seems to have some sort of sinister romantic quality to it and you have definitely done a bang-up job tapping into that. Furthermore, you aimed to write in the style of 19th century literature and you have succeeded in doing so. Kudos to you!
I do agree with RippleGylf that this is a little verbose. Considering that this is a novel and this is only the first page, I have to be honest and say that I don't think I would continue reading. All of the descriptions, as beautiful and mesmerizing as they are, completely slow down your story and make the reading a little tedious. Reading your response to RippleGylf's comment, I see that you said you are writing in the style of nineteenth century literature. This makes complete sense with what you have written, but I have a question for you: why? We are in the twenty-first century. It is all fine and dandy to admire a style of writing and even mimic certain aspects of it, but you also have to keep in mind your present and adapt your writing style to one that might appeal to people of the twenty-first century. By no means am I saying that you shouldn't write as if you belong to the 1800s, but you have to understand that some parts you will need to adapt. Just because a lot of books from the 1800s went on to be classics doesn't necessarily mean all parts of their writing was amazing. For example, an economy on words is somewhat admired these days. Actually, a lot of the nineteenth century classics are classics because of their social commentary/rebellion against social norms, etc. And Jane Austen hardly wrote in purple prose style. She was, in fact, a rather concise author.
The problem with the purple prose you have here is that it is rather difficult to glean the important facts from it all. Things are drowning in adjectives and adverbs and inconsequential descriptions that have nothing to do with the rest of the story. You can still be a beautiful writer and not rely on old-fashioned stylistic devices and choices. Consider what is crucial to your novel's plot and development and go from there. Personally, and I also think that I speak for many other people, reading descriptions about lightbulbs and the light they transmit might be pretty, but it can also be pretty boring. What rapport does that have with the rest of your story? Be focused and remember what matters for your novel. I ask you, What is the purpose of the heavy descriptions, besides the fact that it is hugely characteristic of nineteenth century lit? In one page, very little has happened because you've been so caught up in writing out everything.
Overall, I am pleased that you succeeded in what you meant to do, but I'm not entirely sure that it is a very good idea. Purple prose is purple prose and most of the time it isn't a good thing. We've all done it and it's exhausting for both the writer and the reader. I can tell that you are a good writer, but I feel like your stylistic choices have limited your potential and that you are confining yourself to a very stiff, classist way of writing. Consider branching out and developing your own style. Recognize that 19th century lit is probably not famous because of how it was written, but because of what was written.
If you have any questions, let me know!
Best,
Lav
Lav,
First I'd like to thank you for reading the page and for taking the time and effort into writing a great review for me to think about. I appreciate it.
At this point, the novel has been very thoroughly thought out and I'd love to tell you more about my plans for it but don't feel comfortable doing so on here. In short, however, I not only wanted to tap into the "sinister romantic quality" of Russian literature, but also in the way Dostoevsky (most prominently) incorporates character psychology into his themes. A major motif in the novel is the concept of "burials" and "burying meaning". Without being to much of an obscurantist at the moment, I want to be able to use the art of literature to bury my themes under floral language. It's quite experimental. I agree that I was overly descriptive, but I only did so through the character of the young man. In other words, it is not me that is being overly descriptive, it is the character who is surveying the train and being attentive to details. This serves to tell us a few interesting things about his character psychology, in conjunction with his antisocial tendencies (which may not be apparent as of now). In summary, I'm treating this novel quite experimentally but also very carefully. I plan on posting more of the novel which I mentioned is now 75 pages long. It is, by the way, supposed to be in the specific genre of an anti-nihilistic philosophical novel (similar to many works by Dostoevsky), but I hope this will become more apparent with coming publications on this site.
Thanks again for your attention,
Lemons
Very intersting. I think, overall, it is a bit verbose and overly descriptive. Try to simplify, and don't flood your reader with information. Simpler words would also benefit the piece. However, this is a very intriguing start, and I'm curious to see where it goes. Keep writing!
Thank you very much for reading and for your comments. The novel is supposed to be in the style of 19th century literature and there actually is a good purpose, I think at least, behind the heavy descriptions. I actually have 70 more pages done but am not sure if it is a good idea to post them here.