The Manual
A couple of weeks ago, in the crimson halflight of a Spanish restaurant - so dim that it was difficult to see what one was eating - Michael whipped out a wad of paper in front of my nose and said, "Have you read this? I'd like to know what you think." I had to ask him about it a few days later, seeing as I was swimming in sangria happiness for a time before he'd arrived.
So that was how I came to read the "Manual", the very one that is housed on Textism. I read it from beginning to end. Michael wrote a critique.
I have been letting my opinions stew. Perhaps the fact that the stories barely registered in my mind is a subconscious indication of my thoughts on the book. Then again, I am in the middle of reading a brilliant work by Jeanette Winterson.
The first item - it is hardly a story - by Magdelen Powers, entitled "On the Nature of Instruction, or: Note to Self", begins thus: First thing you do is realise you don't know how to do anything really useful: start a fire with sticks, diagram French sentences (not English, only French), turn an omelet with a single flick of the wrist, spell words that no one ever uses, change motor oil (which, as anyone will tell you, is Simply Not Done At Home anymore).
First thing you do, is realise that the sentence is incomprehensible. So is the rest of the item. I was left wondering if this item is actually a prologue, or not. Or a confusing kind of appetizer? Am I supposed to be licking my lips in anticipation for more bewilderment?
The short story is a difficult medium. It exists in an enclosed space, in a finite amount of time; it is a complete set of moments, beginning to end. Roald Dahl is one true master of the short story. One would find that the items in the Manual - save for maybe two or three - are not short stories, but one falls into the habit of trying to read them as such. You see, it would seem as if most of them attempt to be short stories within a strange, 2nd-person instructive format, or perhaps poetry, maybe with the intention of humour - but they fail spectacularly, with the exception of Heather B. Hamilton's "How To Unsuccessfully Woo Your Roommate's Future Husband" (which is particularly outstanding), and Michael Barrish's "How to Show Your Work".
I admit to being a poor and inconsistent reader of Web sites, and I am unfamiliar with most of these Web-authors' online achievements. However, the fact of the matter is: a good piece of writing would stand as a good piece of writing - especially if someone erases your name and your URL.
Posted by sniffles at July 05, 2002 09:35 PM