obiwanjabroni

He learned to keep his mouth shut very quickly. His parents always said that it took nothing short of a war to move him, but he knew that this wasn't true. It was just that he was slow, and that it took more than just a few words to change his mind about something. He needed time, to process what he was given, to look at it from every angle, and then to make the idea his own. No, it wasn't that he was a rock that needed to be prodded, he was more like a tortoise to be coaxed, to be persuaded. He wasn't stupid, he was considerate; he wasn't stubborn, he was cautious.

There, in the little white rambler on the large, verdant lot, he learned to bear his waking hours in silence. As he thinks back on those times today, he begins to see the reason for his strange transformation – there is a weird sort of symmetry to it all. But that will come later.

For now, he was still just a boy who loved to run along the boundaries of the overgrown lawn and to take pictures of the placid lake in the nearby park. He was still just the boy trying to scrape by each rising of the sun without making ripples on the water. And for now, that was enough for him. He remembers those times of growing up well. It was never easy, but he always fought the current and won, despite how badly he was battered in the process.

Because there was pain along the way. The kind of hurt that shows no visible sign except for a slumping of the shoulders and the tendency to look at the shoes of everyone who passed. Pain came to that diminutive household as easily as rain is collected on the time-weary gutters that lined the roof. And although the pain left just as quickly as the water, it did not forget to leave its scars and cuts and rust.

The family was never a very close one. Like the conventional family of the Homeland, the parents were strict and unapproachable. Each word issued from those divine lips were a blessing and each rebuke was damnation to the lowest pits of hell. Like kings they lorded over their domain, and they forgot what it meant to be parents, and in their zeal, they forgot that they were not gods.

Their contact was infrequent; it was only when the parents required the son to perform his duty to them – to accompany them to public events, to honor them at the houses of friends, and to be shown off as a badge of achievements – when they spoke to each other. And even at this, his parents felt no there to be nothing odd.

So little did the parents know of their own son that they never once considered that under this facade of obedience was a will of fire, a smoldering passion that he had sworn would never go untended. Because he did honor his parents for seeing him succeed. He knew that in their minds, they felt that their happiness would be his happiness. But that did not excuse them from their terrible crimes as parents.

What they showed without, they never showed to their son within. They never thought for a moment that the son they had raised did not worship them; that he had grown to realize that he was being treated like a prized stallion; that he in fact didn't care if they lived or died.

Thinking back now, he felt that he must have also wronged his parents in some way. Was he not also ignorant of his parents? But no, he thought, retreating into his shell of thought. My parents didn't need to know me because they had each other. Who did I have? Nothing but the lake and the grass, and whenever nature willed it, I had the rain.

The years passed all too slowly for him, like a raft that snagged onto every rock and branch along the way.

obiwanjabroni

Premise: Basically, related to "The Metamorphosis" in which the main character (referred to as "He") transforms into a turtle.
Direction: The climax is something that the parents do that is unspeakable enough so that the indomitable fire that I briefly mentioned here will start to be quenched, and that he will slowly retreat within himself, which is the reason he will later become a turtle.
Style: The narrative is a little strange in that it's really a flash back, but I never specify.

All of these elements are being used with an unpracticed hand, so flay me, as long as the flaying be constructive. Thanks in advance!

Lily

Obiwan, so far I like what you have here. I'll have to come back later to finish when I'm more awake and when I'm not supposed to be working on my World Religions journal, but it seems good so far

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Insufferable Know-it-all.

Caria

It seems quite narrative, and I feel kept in the dark.

It feels like the story jumps from boy to turtle to boy to turtle (but I only know this from your second post).

uh, let me know if you think my critique is horrible!

I like all the elements, the conflict between child and parents, the child transforming & the child's will!

obiwanjabroni

No problem. Don't be afraid to bash my story. It'll teach me something. I'll take what you've said in mind. It IS incomplete and I'll have to decide how clear I really want to have it. Thanks for your critique!

veli

I like the idea of a veiled flashback; but one line betrays this, and in a way, it destroys this pretense:

Thinking back now, he felt that he must have also wronged his parents in some way.

It is a good story though, and very Kafka-esque. This is a good thing.
BTW, you should read Kafka's "The Castle" if you haven't already. It is a study in vagueness, and you would appreciate it very much. Trust me..............

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"I'm an occational drinker, the kind of guy who goes out for a beer and wakes up in Singapore with a full beard."
--Raymond Chandler
"The King in Yellow"

obiwanjabroni

Thanks for the feedback. I think you're right, and I'll try to work that part out. And thanks for the tip, I'm looking in on Castle now.

Kitten Courna

Now, it's been a while since I read Kafka...
but I seemed to get at least the same feel from this as I did from the first bits of Metamorphoses.

You are delightfully vague, actually made me put my nose to it an pay attention without skimming, which is kind of refreshing in sheer laboriousness. You seem to have a few little hitches in punctuation in the first paragraph with semi colons and commas, but I'm studying up on the subject myself, so I can't really comment on it. You second to last paragraph is also a break in person, which slightly disturbs the flow of your story. Your second paragraph, also, seems to come from another narrator entirely and upsets the flow. Unless it's part of the greater plan, you might want to fiddle with those two bits.

You have some very poetic moments, very good imagery. The Fourth paragraph especially shows that you can have an easy poetic flow to your prose, and also create some brilliant metaphors. you might want to consider expanding some of your more pastoral descriptions to allow yourself to use that power. Of course, that is a personal opinion *grin*, that style doesn't mesh with what I remember from The Metamorphosis.

Overall it was a good story. I had to really slog to get through Metamorphosis, and thsi is reminiscent enough that it bothers me some, but that's a personal bias(and likely a compliment). It does have a good direction and a good twist. I'll probably check out some of your work that's not imitative, sicne I'm no good about Kafka *grin*. Well done.

-Kitten

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Cadmus: Poor child, like a white swan warding its weak old father, why do you clasp those white arms about my neck?
Euripides; 'The Bacchae'

veli

Kafka is a LEGEND......if your style is likened to his, you probably don't have to worry!

__________________
"I'm an occational drinker, the kind of guy who goes out for a beer and wakes up in Singapore with a full beard."
--Raymond Chandler
"The King in Yellow"

Kitten Courna

Vlad the Impaler is a Legend too *smile*.

Mimickery that is praised for the accuracy of its mime is always just practice to me.

(just had to put in my two cents on that sentiment, no worries *grin*)
-Kitten

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Cadmus: Poor child, like a white swan warding its weak old father, why do you clasp those white arms about my neck?
Euripides; 'The Bacchae'

obiwanjabroni

Haha, I don't want to imitate him too badly, and I probably wouldn't know the first thing about imitating him anyways (translations are horrible). Thanks Kitten for the critique. I'll possibly come back to this idea later (maybe when I'm done with homework for this week ). I was originally going to use this for an English assignment but I'm foreseeing it to be way over three to four pages double-spaced. Again thanks for the comments and I'll see if I can work out the kinks and the inconsistencies.