Marco Carocari | Blackout

Cover of Blackout, blurred image of new World Trade Center, portrait of author Marco Carocari

“Having taken an end of year writing break I picked up ‘Blackout,’ read the first scene, and literally had to set the book down again. The setting so vivid; the energy an exquisite blend of melancholy and intensity; and a man so real and so briefly on the stage before me.”

It always strikes me when a book I hadn’t thought would strike me does. Especially when it is something I might not typically read. I love me a well-done mystery (not cozy though, thank you) but crime thrillers just don’t do it for me. Nor do roller coasters, horror movies, or watching a car accident happen before my eyes (which has happened three times, once somewhat gruesomely). I guess you could say I don’t do adrenaline very well.

And in some ways I don’t do reading very well. It’s extremely difficult for me to lose myself in a book. My entire professional life involved reading and analyzing text. Twice—once after finishing my master’s written comps exam in English then again after completing my doctoral comps—I was unable to read for pleasure for nearly eight months. Add to that years of book and database indexing where the sole purpose was to dissect content into its informational parts and labels; and years of teaching writing where my job was to help students work out how to express their ideas in clear, correct, focused prose.

White male nude in profile from waist up with tatoos on back Outdoor shot of old neon hotel sign. Roy's Motel. At base of sign are 3 small house-shapes and an old car. Black and white view out of the door of an old RV trailer. View is a desert with a beat-up metal chair in foreground, wooden fence midground, and sagebrush hills with sky and clouds above in background

Photography by Marco Carocari

So why did I immediately preorder Marco Carocari’s Blackout? [1]

The cover art, for one. Having been an assistant manager in a bookstore I tend to be immune to (or perhaps bored by is the better phrase) the often generic, repetitive designs. But the art by Mark Gutkowski, with its Art Deco echo, the NYC then-and-now silhouettes, and the colors—khaki, midnight blue, and rainbow flashing—caught my own artist’s eye and sensibility. Second, author Carocari is also a photographer whose work manifests technical rigor, intense focus, and artistic intimacy. [2] My own approach as a writer is to relentlessly visualize. If I can’t see a scene, can’t see the people moving about, I simply cannot write it.

THE STORY

Here is the overview of Blackout from Carocari’s website:

“Strait-laced forty-something Franco picked the wrong night to get freaky. A hook-up with a hot guy on his Manhattan rooftop, and a joint he’s unaware is laced, leaves him dazed. And —if memory serves him— the sole witness to a murder across the street.

 

Except, the cops can’t find a crime scene or a body, and Franco’s perforated recollections and conflicting testimony leave the detectives unimpressed. When days later the mutilated body of a philanthropic millionaire is discovered, he’s not only shocked to learn he knew him, but with Franco’s fingerprints all over the crime scene, he quickly graduates from unreliable witness to prime suspect.

 

Unsettled, and confronted with forty year old memories, when Franco’s father was murdered in front of him during Manhattan’s infamous blackout, a shocking revelation finally unmasks the man who pulled the trigger that night. And painting Franco the perfect suspect. With a target on his back and time running out, the truth will set Franco free, or earn him a toe tag at the morgue…”

Power, Precision, and Place

I don’t know why it took me this long to read Blackout—the book came out in March 2021. I am myself writing just now (a character-driven academic mystery as well as an involved speculative SF thing simmering alongside) and am one of those writers who dare not read certain other things when writing. I had a feeling Carocari’s book was one of them.

This is a compliment (I think) that I flinch at the potential power or influence of another’s work. Fiona Erskine’s Phosphate Rocks is sitting within my line of sight as I type this, also unread beyond the first few pages—those read thrice but no more than that, though her time is soon. [3] It’s a kind of respect in my universe to not want to read certain books until the moment is right.

Reader, this was such a moment. Having taken an end of year writing break I picked up Blackout, read the first scene, and literally had to set the book down again. The setting so vivid; the energy an exquisite blend of melancholy and intensity; and a man so real and so briefly on the stage before me. I was immediately caught by what I tweet-commented as the “quick, dark, graceful writing.”

And precise . . . which didn’t surprise me given the quality of Carocari’s photographic eye.

I’ve only been to New York City once and as a well-grown adult and even then for only two days. With the exception of similarly brief visits to London in the early 80s and San Francisco in the 90s, I’d never felt so immediately at home as I did in NYC. Reading Blackout gave me that same sense of familiarity and, in a way, of coming home. He didn’t have to world build for me. I was there! Sights, smells (the smells!), the pitch dark of the 1977 blackout, even the concrete beneath my feet.

HANGING TEN

Ocean wavesWhen I was a kid someone told me that waves always come in sevens with the last, seventh wave being the largest. I can remember sitting on the sandy edge of a small lake when summer-swimming with family, sitting and counting the waves as they came in. Maybe the theory doesn’t work in small lakes. I can only recall watching and watching as the rippled lines all looked the same as they hit the shore.

That image came to mind when reading Blackout, though here the waves did increase. I had this wonderful sense of being aboard a small boat or surfboard atop as each wave of the narrative pushed forward, rushing towards the shore with increasing intensity. Writer-Me noted “Oh, this is what they mean by a thriller.” Reader-Me just hung on surfer-like, for the ride.

Music is powerful element in Blackout and adds to the crescendo effect. Main character Franco DiMaso works at a club as one of his three jobs. There’s a lot of dancing and a lot of throbbing beats that surround the Franco and his friends. Although set in 2016, the musical vibe carried me back to when I was nineteen and first really fell in love; when I met my boyfriend’s gay friends who were the first out gay men I’d ever met; when I came into being in a way. The music of the Blackout’s characters and the deep sensibility that their music was the book’s own soundtrack gave me that sweet time back again. (Carocari includes a playlist at the end of the book and I have to say I wanted to hug him for that!)

The personable and the real

Ursula K. Le Guin. An older Caucasion woman with short white hair, face with creases, wearing glasses, stands at a podium. She is smiling genially.Invariably I read books on multiple levels, some of which have little to do with what the book is literally about in terms of plot or genre. That happened reading Carocari where I jumped both.

Blackout is as far away from speculative science fiction as you can get. Composing my thoughts for this post I was rather surprised, then, that two books insisted on resonating alongside: Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Dispossessed and The Left Hand of Darkness. [4, 5] Here are short descriptions for each:

The Dispossessed (1974): “This novel is about the radically different societies on two close planets. On Urras, there are multiple states, each with their own government. On Anarres, there is no government or economic system. Shevek, a physicist on Anarres, wants to break the rules of his world and travel to Urras, not only to speak with other physicists who understand and are excited by his theories, but to promote friendship between the two planets. . . . ‘ The Dispossessed’ is a novel of anarchy and individualism, of utopias and paradise.” (From Bookrags; link below)

 

The Left Hand of Darkness (1969): “The novel follows the story of Genly Ai, a human native of Terra, who is sent to the planet of Gethen as an envoy of the Ekumen, a loose confederation of planets. Ai’s mission is to persuade the nations of Gethen to join the Ekumen, but he is stymied by a lack of understanding of their culture. Individuals on Gethen are ambisexual, with no fixed sex; this has a strong influence on the culture of the planet, and creates a barrier of understanding for Ai.” (From Wikipedia; link below)

I say just now I was rather surprised, more like baffled. My goal of getting this essay posted earlier this week was put on pause while I let the matter marinate. Finally what surfaced had little to do with the plots or genres of the three books and everything to do with two critical notions: the especial connections people make with each other and the authenticity of persons.

I mentioned that crime thrillers aren’t my jam. Blackout almost went on my did-not-finish­ book stack at the moment Franco has to identify a body in a morgue. My reaction was pretty much the same as his and I wasn’t sure I could go on, much as I wanted to find out what happened. What kept me going was what kept Franco going: the anchor he finds in the tight, eclectic circle of his friends. Shevek and Ai, the central characters in Le Guin’s two books are similarly grounded and literally saved, emotionally and physically, by core friendships.

In all three books the friendships have been nurtured over time, challenged by events, and in the end, solidified into what is colloquially referred to these days as found family. I kept expecting Franco’s friends to offload him for his stubborn and occasionally flakey behavior but they never do. Shevek, who comes close to suicide through a combination of intellectual pride and loneliness, is saved by a long ago friend who has conquered his own pride and who offers the salve of love and friendship. Ai’s inability to see beyond his default male template of sex and gender nearly derails his mission as Envoy, a mission saved by the sacrifice of a person Ai later realizes was his only and dearest friend.

Franco, Shevek, and Ai, all male in this instance, are in the end fundamentally and authentically themselves, respectively gay, cis-but-sexually-open, and cis. This I think is the doorway connecting the three books in my mind; not the gender/sexuality specifically, but the solidity of the respective identities and how Carocari and Le Guin write them as normative.

My voice has always been my own so to read a story with a very strong voice is deeply satisfying to me, no matter what the voice. Though the thriller aspect of this book will not stay with me I think, in terms of representation this is a book that I will cherish. I am not any of the people in it and though not gay specifically, I am other. Aside from the story, aside from the writing, I felt seen in a way I rarely experience in daily life. These people, Franco and his friends, were my people. There aren’t too many books that give me that.

Postscript: I deliberately did not read any reviews of Blackout or interviews with Carocari prior to reading his book. Finding out now that he is not native-born or raised American and managed to capture NYC as he did is some kind of wonderful. A tip of the cap to you, sir.

If you have a question or comment for me, drop me a line via my Contact page.

© J.A. Jablonski 2022. All rights reserved.

ABOUT BOOK THOUGHTS

“Book Thoughts” is an intermittent column within my blog. The essays are not so much book reviews as book responses. I like to converse with and around the books I read.

How to cite this post

Jablonski, J.A. (2022, Jan 6). Marco Carocari | Blackout. Blog post. J.A. Jablonski (website). https://jajablonski.com/2022/01/06/carocari_blackout


IMAGE CREDITS

Header image

    • Cover of Marco Carocari’s book, Blackout. From Amazon.
    • World Trade Center, NY. Photo by Lukas Blaskevicius on Unsplash. Modified & retinted.
    • Marco Carocari. Author photograph. From Mr. Carocari’s photography website About page.

Ocean waves. Photo by Photoholgic on Unsplash

Photography by Marco Carocari: Man in profile with tatoos; Roy’s Motel; View of desert from RV trailer door. All used by permission.

Photo of author Ursula K. Le Guin © 2014 by Jack Liu. See Le Guin’s Publicity Photos page.

SOURCES

Disclaimer: As a Bookshop Affiliate (US only) I will earn a commission if you click through on a book title I’ve linked to and make a purchase.

[1] Carocari, Marco. (2021). Blackout. Level Best Books. His author website is here.

[2] Carocari, Marco. Mr. Carocari’s photography website.

[3] Erskine, Fiona. (2021). Phosphate Rocks: A Death in Ten Objects. Sandstone Press. ISBN: 9781913207526

[4] Le Guin, Ursula K. (1974). The Dispossessed. Avon Books. (Bookshop link is to the Harper Voyager 1994 edition.) The Bookrags quotation above can be found here.

[5] Le Guin, Ursula K. (1969). The Left Hand of Darkness. Ace Books. (Bookshop link is to the Ace Books 1987 edition.) The Wikipedia quotation above can be found here.

No Move, No Write

Man & microphone, person in leather lacket, wood art mannequin

“What I am looking for is the person in the motion.
What I want is to pull that motion from them
and transform it into a character and their story.”

I have a character waiting for a story. He came to life most vividly one evening some years back when we were out to dinner with friends. The evening had ended and we were getting ready to leave. The one gent happened to rise first. In a brief unified flow of motions he stood, pulled his black leather jacket close to his chest, put up the collar, then turned back towards his partner to say something. My mind’s camera snapped the shot. And so expressive was the image that around two the following morning—I am an insomniac since pretty much forever—I woke to see the man walking slowly back and forth by the back wall  of my room, in profile, this time wearing an elaborate black velvet, calf-length cotehardie with high collar. No idea who this character is only that he seems to be waiting, patiently, for a book in which to travel.

It’s movement that brings my characters to life. If they don’t move I can’t write them.

So I spend a lot of time people watching be it live, in my mind’s eyes, in movies, in YouTube or Vimeo videos. The videos are varied. I like to watch dance pieces, especially those with only a few people.  And I like to watch the videos that artists or actors make of themselves at work.

 

Will B. Bell

Male and female dancer standing lean back as they hold each other by one hand

Contemporary ballet and jazz choreographer, Will B. Bell, has posted several set pieces on his YouTube channel. In addition to his choreography work, Bell is a teacher and actor. [1]

The set pieces are expressive in their lush movement, the dancers more than dancers as they embody the unspoken narrative. What captures me, beyond appreciating the sheer beauty, is the storytelling that underlies the dance.

The screenshot at left is from a piece named for the song by Adele, “Love in the Dark.”

“I can’t love you in the dark
It feels like we’re oceans apart
There is so much space between us . . .?

The dancers are strong and centered in their approach to each other. The lyrics matter but I find myself less tuned to the story they tell of this pair than how the dancers themselves interpret. I like that the woman is muscular and strong in her movements. And I like that the man’s gestures are expressive and self-aware. The lighting accentuates their power, the physicality of their relationship, and their isolation. DJ Smart and Zola Williams, the dancers, are more than than their dancing. Their movement not only carries a tale, it makes them into vivid, if nameless, people, makes them into characters I might write of someday.

 

Jono Dry

The work of certain artists, specifically artists who draw, infuses my writing work. What I am looking for is the person in the motion. What I want is to pull that motion from them and transform it into a character and their story. Cape Town artist Jon Dry gives me that energy of motion. Dry creates large scale drawings in graphite. The images are stunning in their depth, expression, and technique. Equally stunning is the interior impetus for them. Dry has ADD and describes how he uses art to

…reflect on mental illness and its metaphors. With these drawings, I explore how one can make the experience of a state of anxiety or depression visible, particularly when those states of so often seeming inexpressible in words.” [2]

Graphite drawing of headless nude figure seen from behind. A hot air baloon floats above. Graphite drawing of a nude woman partially wrapped in wide fabric ribbons. Elaborate antlers grow from her head Graphite drawing of a black man shown from mid-chest up. His arms are crossed and he covers his lower face with his hands. Flowers and plants grow from the top of his head.
Left: Separation          Center: Figure in  Frame          Right: In My Silence

 

A key character in the academic mystery I am currently working on is psychologically complex. In the planned second book we see they are also suffering from complicated grief due to a murder that takes place in Book 1. In that state they are tormented. Dry’s images speak to me of their inner anguish, what I think of as the movement of grief.

Dry himself inspires my creativity with regard to characters on a more general level. He creates videos of himself drawing. The videos are their own works of art. He uses an array of cinematic techniques—slow and fast motion, multiple exposure, still and in-motion lighting— to capture the experience, his experience. His use of water on paper is powerful and evocative. [3]

I can see that complex character of mine in Dry’s movements as an artist. Dry looks nothing like my person, who is nonbinary and wears their hair styled most dramatically and colored a brilliant turquoise. But I see them in his focus, his care, and in the unmitigated courage of his physical and emotional self expression. [4]

 

Peter Hamilton Dyer

I am old enough to have a small collection of vinyl LPs from the 1960s-80s. It includes a number of original cast and movie recordings of some Broadway plays of which I am particularly fond: Brigadoon, The King and I, The Music Man, Man of La Mancha, Oklahoma, and a few others. Besides adoring the music, I enjoy comparing the way different actors sing and interpret their characters via song. Darren McGavin in the 1964 Lincoln Center revival of The King and I gives Yul Brynner’s archetypal performance of the King a serious run for the money. [5] The onstage shows were staged when I was only a child, a child stuck in the Midwest no less, so I’ve never been able to compare the acting and, especially, the movement of actors playing the same role.

I’ve mentioned actor Peter Hamilton Dyer in a previous post in relation to listening and character development. Having seen the DVD of the 2012 production of Twelfth Night at the Shakespeare’s Globe theatre in which he played Feste the jester I was curious about how he used the instrument of his body in making Feste happen. [6] To do that I wanted to compare him to himself, as it were, to see how he did that in general. I found a showreel of him playing a modern and an early 20th century character—he does this curious angling of his shoulders in both (I must have a thing for shoulders(!). [7] But what really caught my eye, and which let me solidify my sense of one of the main characters in my WIP academic mystery, was a rehearsal video I came across  of Hamilton Dyer playing Turkish newspaper editor Can Dunbar journalist in the provocative drama #WeAreArrested staged by the Arcola Theatre in 2018.

As far as I can determine there is no publicly available video recording of the production, but there are a few rehearsal videos on YouTube. One especially fascinates: “#WeAreArrested – Movment.” In it Director Sophie Ivatts and Movement Director Ingrid Mackinnon discuss the role of movement in the play. Their challenge was how to tell Dunbar’s story as told in his book and make it work onstage. [8]

From the video’s transcript:

[Speaking: Director Sophie Ivatts] “The ways in which we thought about finding a theatrical language, moving away from prose and really looking at what is the toolbox that we as theater makers can bring to Can’s story to tell it in a different way to the book? Movement it felt like an obvious answer to that.”

As Feste Hamilton Dyer dances intermittently, sometimes as a direct part of a scene. At one point (Act IV, Sc. 2) as he exits the stage, the moment he goes through a side door, he does a kind of skipping leap as he says his final line, “Adieu, good man devil.” It was that instant that my mystery’s character came to life, with that flippant line, in that somehow self-satisfied leap. (Whether Hamilton Dyer was actually doing it that way didn’t matter. My sometime-loner academic MC appeared!)

The role of movement in #WeAreArrested is used to structure the play rather than create character but how the three actors move belies who they play. Movement Director Mackinnon talks about movement and magic. At one point she steps up onto a large table that forms a central position on stage. You can see Hamilton Dyer watching her intently. At another point he is on the table himself, as Dunbar, walking and gesturing. Voila! There was my professor again. This time I could imagine him in front of a group of students or debating, as he does at one point in my narrative, the issue of conscientious objection.

~ * ~ * ~

Partial side view of tall woman in flannel shirt and blue jeans holding a crossbowWhen I began drafting this post back in October, I was inspired by the Halloween season to title it “Stealing Bodies.” For isn’t that what I am doing in a way with my notion of movement and character development?

I had my body stolen by a writer once. The author was SF author Sheri S. Tepper writing a mystery series under her pseudonym of B.J. Oliphant. [9] Her amateur sleuth, the intrepid rancher Shirley McClintock, is something of a badass. She is also tall which Tepper wasn’t. She and I corresponded briefly and I had the opportunity to visit her at her New Mexico home. She told me later that she borrowed my body and that of her farmhand, an equally tall woman, and put us together to create McClintock. I have to say I was mighty honored by her thievery.

 

 

 

If you have a question or comment for me, drop me a line via my Contact page.

© J.A. Jablonski 2022. All rights reserved.

HOW TO CITE THIS POST

Jablonski, J.A. (2021, Dec 13). No Move, No Write. Blog post. J.A. Jablonski (website). https://jajablonski.com/2021/12/13/no-move-no-write

IMAGE CREDITS

 

SOURCES

[1] Bell, Will B. Dance videos on his YouTube channel:

[2] Dry, Jono. (n.d.) Interview. Culture of Creatives website.

[3] Dry, Jono. (2021, Sept 8). Pencil Drawing Timelapse – ‘Figure in Frame.’ YouTube video.

[4] Dry’s work and commentary can also be accessed via his website.

[5] The King and I – Music Theater of Lincoln Center Revival. (1964). Info, photos, and playlist at Masterworks Broadway website.

[6] Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre: Twelfth Night. (2013). Opus Arte. IMDB info page.

[7] Hamilton Dyer, Peter. (n.d.). Actor page. Spotlight.com. Showreel link on page.

[8] Arcola Theatre. (2019, Nov 12). #WeAreArrested – Movement. YouTube Video. Video content by Laura Clifford.

[9] Oliphant, B.J. The Shirley McClintock Mysteries may be out of print but copies can still be found. The titles are

    • Death in the Scrub (1990)
    • The Unexpected Corpse (1990)
    • Deservedly Dead (1992)
    • Death and the Delinquent (1992)
    • Death Served Up Cold (1994)
    • A Ceremonial Death(1995)

Glenda Norquay | Robert Louis Stevenson, Literary Networks and Transatlantic Publishing in the 1890s

Norquay Book, Map of RLS Treasure Island, Portrait of Glenda Norquay

“Her removal of RLS from the biographical context allows her to position him
in relation to his social and literary peers as simply that,
peers, which in turn lets her discuss those peers on their own merits.”

It’s been a while since I’ve motored my way through a scholarly text for the fun of it. As an academic (educator and librarian) in the humanities and social sciences I’ve taught literary criticism, research methods, and professional and academic writing. And I’ve indexed a goodly number of scholarly books and unnumbered scholarly articles. So this is something of a busman’s holiday.

A disclaimer, however: My thoughts in this essay are not so much a book review as a book response. I like to converse with and around the books I read. The book in question is Glenda Norquay’s Robert Louis Stevenson, Literary Networks and Transatlantic Publishing in the 1890s: The Author Incorporated (Anthem Press, 2020). [1] And a second disclaimer is necessary. I am by no means a Stevenson scholar; I am a dilettante at best. I came across the gent perhaps two years ago while looking for a quotation to use as a chapter epigraph for a mystery novel I am writing. That led me to his letters, then his essays, then to a run of biographies about the man. I’ve yet to read much of his fiction.

Here is a section of the summary of Norquay’s book provided by her publisher, Anthem Press:

‘Robert Louis Stevenson, Literary Networks and Transatlantic Publishing in the 1890s’ focuses on an author characterised by geographical and aesthetic mobility, and on those who worked with him or wrote for him at a period of key changes in transatlantic publishing. Stevenson’s situation in the 1890s, living in Samoa, publishing in Britain and the United States, is both highly specific but also representative of a new literary mobility. Drawing on a range of resources, from archival material, correspondence, biographies, essays and fiction, the book examines the operations of transatlantic literary networks during a period of key changes in transatlantic publishing.
To investigate Stevenson and the geographies of his literary networks during the last years of his life and after his death, the book presents a series of critical case studies profiling figures who worked with Stevenson, negotiated his publications on both sides of the Atlantic, wrote for him or were inspired by him. Each chapter focuses on a figure involved in the production or afterlife of Stevenson’s late fiction. . . . The book deploys the concept of ‘literary prosthetics’ to frame its analysis of gatekeepers, tastemakers, agents, collaborators and authorial surrogates in the transatlantic production of Stevenson’s writing. . . . [and] contributes to knowledge of transatlantic publishing and literary cultures in the 1890s and to Stevenson studies but its focus on the specifics of Stevenson’s ‘case’ provides a point of entry into larger considerations of literary communities, nineteenth-century mobility drivers of literary production and the nature of the authorial function. [2]

Portrait of Robert Louis Stevenson. He smiles gnetly, his eyes hsow light amusement.Reading Literary Networks (as I shall refer to Norquay’s book) was a bit like reading two books at once. Scholarly writing can be pedantic and weighty but I didn’t see that here. Norquay’s Introduction is necessarily dense but she outlines her theoretical approach straightforwardly in graceful prose. It is here she lays the groundwork of the book re: geography and the history of publishing in Stevenson’s time.

That is how I started reading it, as groundwork, but as I neared the end of the section, the notion of literary networks became personalized. As she proceeds into the book proper, taking as the focus in each succeeding chapter a single influential person in Stevenson’s life, or group of persons in the case of his family, Norquay’s take on things assumes an increasing momentum and power. This is a work of concision and insight.

Stevenson is presented as a person outstanding, not a creature enmeshed in his biography as is often the case. He is himself, a man in transition at a time of transition. Norquay’s removal of Stevenson from the biographical context—she is keenly aware of this well-trod territory and how it has the tendency to make biographies of Stevenson narratively redundant—allows her to position him in relation to his social and literary peers as simply that, peers, which in turn lets her discuss those peers on their own merits. She gives Stevenson a larger space within his own time. Literally larger, in the geographic sense and chronologically in relation to his literary contemporaries. Norquay’s conceptions lets us view Stevenson as responding, if only instinctively, to the transitional nature of that era’s publishing approach, to the changing notions about intellectual ownership, and to the traditional, idealized creative process of the author.

For all that Literary Networks is not a deliberate biography, the chapter case studies on Lemuel Bangs, Charles Baxter, Sidney Colvin, Stevenson’s immediate family and friend-collaborators, Arthur Quiller-Couch, and finally, Ricard Le Gallienne act to mirror Stevenson, reflecting who and how Stevenson was in a way more singular than mere biography might achieve.

THE NOTION OF TRANSITION

Literary Networks provides me with a welcome and unexpected context. My personal interest is in the creative process as a topic and in and of itself. I always land on the transitional moments: the twelfth-century Renaissance, the period of incunabula leading in to the age of the printing press, the so-called Industrial Revolution (especially in the United States), and the rise of the internet in its publicly accessible mode. Such liminal moments fascinate me and charge my creative approach. [3]

Transition, in its dual meaning as change and progression, operates on a personal level for Stevenson. His friendships and relationships, the really critical ones, have a creative and imaginative intimacy to them. He is a willing collaborator (if a sloppy businessman). As time progresses, as his social environment changes, he matures as a writer in terms of craft but, more intriguing to me, in terms of his imagination. That, I confess, more than the specifics of the matters of international publication and copyright are what stayed with me after reading.*

* Though I must hasten to clarify: As a student of writing history I find Norquay’s analysis of the transitions in the publishing industry, the subsequent contrasting approaches to the development of a reading community, and the notion of the popular versus literary value of Stevenson’s work to be virtually a separate, and most valuable, addition to my scholarly library.

Transitioning to Self

Until Stevenson took up permanent residence in Samoa, his nomadic ways—fueled by medical necessity in most instances though by personal and emotional necessity as well—were regarded by his personal and literary friends as a quirk. His travels fueled his writerly imagination and a reading public’s romantic notion of him. His time in Samoa changed him, however, much to the consternation of those who sought to publish on his behalf and, as Norquay considers, who might use their connection with Stevenson to personally or professionally profit on their own behalf.

Always complex psychologically, Stevenson’s engagement with Samoan politics, his responsibilities as literal and local clan patriarch, and an increasing sensibility that he was finally his own man, led him to write what he pleased or perhaps more accurately, write about matters closest to his heart: a broken relationship with a father and rich relationships with strong women.

Writing to his beloved cousin Bob Stevenson three months before his own death Stevenson muses on the notion of family, his own, over previous centuries. He says

What a singular thing is this undistinguished perpetuation of a family throughout the centuries, and the sudden bursting forth of character and capacity that began with our grandfather! But as I go on in life, day by day. . . I cannot get used to this world, to procreation, to heredity, to sight, to hearing, the commonest things are a burthen. . . . The prim obliterated polite face of life, and the broad, bawdy, and orgiastic–or maenadic–foundations, form a spectacle to which no habit can reconcile me.” [4]

Here is a man who lived his entire life expecting death at any moment, who conformed then fought conformity, who turned away from the “polite face of life” to find his own face. Such an intensely personal and intimate life journey playing out over two oceans and multiple letters. And, it seems to me, within Literary Networks. It is a powerful work of scholarship to be sure. It seems, though, anyone taking on Stevenson takes him on his own terms. In discussing the development of her book, Norquay says she initially thought it would be

“. . . primarily text-based. Talking about ‘St. Ives’ . . . about ‘Weir of Hermiston’ . . . . but in a way it’s become more about the characters around Stevenson and their very different perceptions of Stevenson as an author and their very different engagements with him . . . .” [5]

Novelist and critic (and one of Norquay’s case study subjects), Arthur Quiller-Couch, describing him as their lodestar, reflects a perpetual present tense quality of Stevenson, a kind of enmeshment, where he is continues to be viewed through a personalized, present-tense lens by family, friends, and colleagues.

Norquay, by using the different frame of geography and literary mobility, frees Stevenson from the focused, limiting role of lodestar. His influence, she shows us, is more far-reaching in the spaces of authoring and publishing and long after his fiction had gone out of literary fashion.

REFLECTIONS

JA Jablonski Portrait - middle aged female presenting Caucasion person with short white hair and glasses wearing a royal blue kimono-style jacket over a white Oxford shirtMy tendency as a reader is invariably trinary, with my focus on the pragmatic, the associative, and that which I call the originative flux. As a pragmatic reader I take the story or text as is looking at or for the narrative who, what, when, why, and how. Problematic, sloppy, or casual writing annoys and distracts. If fiction, I wish to be taken, persuaded, challenged, entertained; if nonfiction I want to be informed, accurately and insightfully. And I want the writing done with grace, style, and some measure of verbal power.

As an associative reader I invariably, and involuntarily, associate what I am reading with whatever the reading might trigger, be that something else by the same author, or a different author, or a movie, or an image, or a comment from social media, a costume, a dream . . . whatever the text calls to mind. It is a combination of Rabbit Hole Syndrome and a kind of spontaneous and unpremeditated mind mapping. It can be massively distracting and intensely pleasurable.

The reading experience of originative flux, a mode that, like the muse does not always materialize, is something of a constant. My curiosity about the origination and the flux of creation is deep and voracious. I cannot but crave knowing the mind behind the making. Not the person, necessarily, though that may happen along the way. (I try to avoid parasocial interactions with creative others, not always successfully.)

Norquay captures me on all three levels. One of the delights in reading Norquay’s book is seeing a mind work in such a large way. Literary Networks is a work that manifests considerable scholarly range yet Norquay wears that mantle lightly. It enhances my personal experience as a reader. That her writing style is easy—in that it flows, is crafted yet not overwrought, is intellectually accessible while challenging—heightens my enjoyment. I delight in seeing an idea well-formulated and explained in the same way I find joy in seeing a perfectly executed double play in baseball or hearing the perfect balance of polyphonic music. I very much look forward to reading her other work.

 

Glenda Norquay - middle aged Caucasion women with chin-length ash blonde hair wearing an oatmeal-colored cardigan over red print shirtAuthor Info. Glenda Norquay is Professor Emerita in Scottish Literary Studies at the Research Institute for Literature and Cultural History at Liverpool John Moores University. Her research focus is twofold: Scottish writing, specifically women’s fiction, the nineteenth-century and contemporary novel; and Robert Louis Stevenson’s fiction, criticism and publishing history.

In addition to the book I am considering here, Norquay has two other books on Stevenson: a monograph, RLS: Robert Louis Stevenson and Theories of Reading: The Reader as Vagabond, and R.L. Stevenson on Fiction: An Anthology of Literary and Critical Essays. She is currently editing his unfinished novel, St. Ives: Being The Adventures of a French Prisoner in England for the New Edinburgh Edition of Stevenson.

If you have a question or comment for me, drop me a line via my Contact page.

© J.A. Jablonski 2022. All rights reserved.

 ABOUT BOOK THOUGHTS

“Book Thoughts” is an intermittent column within my blog. The essays are not so much book reviews as book responses. I like to converse with and around the books I read.  

HOW TO CITE THIS POST

Jablonski, J.A. (2021, Dec 6). Glenda Norquay’ | Robert Louis Stevenson, Literary Networks and Translatlantic Publishing in the 1890s. Blog post. J.A. Jablonski (website). https://jajablonski.com/2021/12/06/glenda-norquay/


IMAGE CREDITS

Header image

    • Cover of Glenda Norquay’s book, Robert Louis Stevenson, Literary Networks and Translatlantic Publishing in the 1890s: An Author Incorporated. From publisher website (Anthem Press).
    • Stevenson’s map of Treasure Island.” From Wikipedia, listed as in the Public Domain.
    • Glenda Norquay, author portrait. From Professor Norquay’s Liverpool John Moores University profile.

Portrait of Robert Louis Stevenson by Henry Walter Barnett, 1893. Modified using the Picas art photo filter. Original image is in the public domain.

Portrait of J.A. Jablonski by Mike De Sisti. Used by permission.

Portrait of Glenda Norquay. From Professor Norquay’s profile for The Institute for Advanced Studies in the Humanities, The University of Edinburgh.

SOURCES

Disclaimer: As a Bookshop Affiliate (US only) I will earn a commission if you click through on a book title I’ve linked to and make a purchase.

[1] Norquay, Glenda. (2020). Robert Louis Stevenson, Literary Networks and Translatlantic Publishing in the 1890s: The Author Incorporated. Anthem Press. 

[2] About this Book. (n.d.) Anthem Press.

[3] Works on historical transitions that I especially like:

[4] Letter to Bob Stevenson, 9 September 1894. The Letters of Robert Louis Stevenson, vol 8, January 1893-December 1894. Letter #2782. Yale University Press, 1995, pg. 362).

[5] Norquay, Glenda. (2020, Nov 16). Robert Louis Stevenson Inc. | Prof. Glenda Norquay | LJMU English. YouTube video. Runtime: 15:14. Description: “Norquay discusses her new book about the transatlantic publishing networks of Robert Louis Stevenson and his literary circle.” The quotation above begins at timestamp 2:45.

Hello

Word cloud of hello in multiple languages

“And now we welcome the new year. Full of things that have never been.”

Rainer Maria Rilke

Hello and welcome.
It’s not quite the new year, but this website is a new incarnation for me and I am much looking forward to what happens next. The short version of a longer story is that I’ve been many things professionally (see my About page) and am finally embarking on something I promised myself many years ago that I would do: write. You can’t hear my chuckle as I typed that word—write—as virtually my entire working life has involved writing be it course syllabi, lectures, instructionals, and hundreds of student paper feedback notes; writer and indexer user manuals and technical presentation guides for a major professional and scientific organization and several universities; individual and institutional marketing and promotional materials; guest blogs; much of a writing guide for an online university with attendant syllabi, tutorials, etc.; a number of scholarly book and journal indexes; and a thesaurus or two.

To quote my favorite author, Ursula K. Le Guin, words are my matter. But so too is the imagination that grounds the making of words, the making that fosters imagination, and the fascination with people and things that gives impetus to it all.

Finally, having paid my professional dues, I get to pay something else—pay the universe back, if you will—and tell the stories that have percolated within for years and, in one instance, decades. No longer an anonymous byline, no longer a servant to a necessary master. Now I write for me, and I hope, for you though I do not yet know who the most of you are.

Welcome and again welcome!

 

Storytelling the matter

in a most literal and intimate manner,

now longhand,

now milonguero style.

I lead the gambol.

I beget the tale.

~ Excerpt from my poem, Gambol (2020)

 

 

 

© J.A. Jablonski 2021. All rights reserved.

HOW TO CITE THIS POST

Jablonski, J.A. (2021, Nov 22). Hello. Blog post. J.A. Jablonski (website). https://jajablonski.com/2021/11/22/hello/

IMAGE CREDITS

Header image of night sky and pine trees. | Photo by Ryan Hutton on Unsplash. Colors modified. | Word cloud layer created via WordClouds.com.

 

Inhabiting Character

Harriet Walter as Brutus, Mark Rylance as Olivia, and Peter Hamilton Dyer as Friar Laurence

Harriet Walter as Brutus (Julius Caesar), Mark Rylance as Olivia (Twelfth Night), Peter Hamilton Dyer as Friar Lawrence (Romeo and Juliet)

“Two things strike me in Mantel’s take: That the immediate is a kind of intimacy. That the writer is an actor, working their way through a tale.”

Characterization—creating characters—is a regular topic in how-to resources for writers. A recent article on the Masterclass website (Aug 2021) notes that relatable characters are what connects a reader to a story, describing them as an “essential element of fiction writing, and a hook into the narrative arc of a story.” [1] The article instructs one to “follow these character development tips when you sit down to write” and then lists eight familiar elements: establish motivation/goals, create a voice, do a slow reveal, create conflict, provide backstory, make the personality believable, provide a physical picture, and develop secondary characters.

These are good practical tips, but how does one do the preliminary deeper thinking, the emotional work, that grounds the character, that lets them become solid to me, the writer, and ideally to the reader? For me it requires inhabiting the character, becoming an indweller.

In discussing her recent collaboration with actor Ben Miles to write a stage script for the third book of her Tudor trilogy, The Mirror and the Light, Hilary Mantel commented, “For me, writing is a very condensed and lonely form of acting. Everything has to be played out inside my head.” [2] It gets more immediate for Mantel too. She says “I’ve been all of the characters for 15 years. I’ve been in and out of all those bodies and minds.”

Two things strike me in Mantel’s take:

  • That the immediate is a kind of intimacy (“in and out of all those bodies and minds” )
  • That the writer is an actor, working their way through a tale.

Writing (and acting) go beyond backstory, though backstory informs it. It has to do with listening, really listening, to the characters, to the words (if one is playing a theater role), to the words of the others in the space, whether that space is the book one is writing or a play in which one is performing.

 

The Importance of Listening

In a 2010 BBC News interview, actor Alan Rickman commented on the importance of listening as an actor: “You only speak because you wish to respond to something  you’ve heard . . . . All I want to see from an actor to me is the intensity and accuracy of their listening.” [3]

In 2002 actor Peter Hamilton Dyer provided some rehearsal notes re: the character of Feste, whom he played in a well-regarded production of Twelfth Night at the Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre. This production saw successive changes in the cast. At the time Hamilton Dyer wrote these notes, only five actors from the previous go-round had stayed on. Anyone who has been through this knows—and if not, it’s easy to imagine—that adjustments need to be made. Different actors, different interpretations, different directorial notions.

Hamilton Dyer wrote, “This has been very refreshing . . . as we are making new discoveries about the characters.” And how that was done, in one instance, is a wonderfully vivid example of the need to listen and be intensely aware of/tuned into not only one’s fellow actors but the other characters (including one’s own):

“. . . [We] did a useful exercise to help us understand the relationships between the characters. We all stood in a circle, in character, and threw a tennis ball from one character to the next. The way in which you pass the ball to someone else depends on both the nature of your character and your relationship with the recipient. So, if you had very little respect for them, you might throw the ball very hard at them, or perhaps put the ball on the ground for them to come and fetch from you. . . . This exercise was really helpful in helping us understand how the characters interact with each other before we approach the text.” [4]

In the novel I am currently working on (an academic mystery), I am in Mantel’s position: “Everything has to be played out inside my head.” Unlike Rickman, Hamilton Dyer, and Mantel, I don’t have fellow actors on my stage. I am writing and playing all the parts.

 

Side Stories

I’ve worked out a couple of ways to get at this needed intimacy and listening, however. One is what I refer to as side stories. In a sense I am writing fanfiction (fanfic) for my own novel. The Urban Dictionary defines fanfiction as “when someone takes either the story or characters (or both) of a certain piece of work, whether it be a novel, tv show, movie, etc., and creates their own story based on it.” [5]

Initially the side stories were to hear, literally hear in some cases, the voices of my characters. For instance, I know that one, my so-called maps librarian, an academic with three advanced degrees, is low-voiced and self-defensively brusque, with a dry, wry sense of humor, but also cordial and lighter in speech tones when trusting. But to know that is not the same as hearing it. So I wrote scenes between her and other characters to see and hear how she speaks.

In one conversation she is pushed hard and she pushes back, not always rationally to my surprised amusement, and with a physical voice that is neutrally flat. In another, moved to reveal a deep grief, she lets a work colleague see her cry and reluctantly lets them hold her as she does, and her crying includes squeaks! My alpha reader—she reads everything and simply reacts—said that she could finally hear this person, whereas before she only saw her described.

My other approach to intimacy with my characters is the tried and true method of reading my text aloud. But I take it a step further. When there’s no one around (though if there is I can usually manage to do it in my head), I talk to aloud to them and enact how they might speak back. It’s a version of what some writers may call letting their characters take over. I don’t do that. I only set up a what if and then go improv, talking back and forth and watching what I come up with. Then I shift to another what if scenario and do it again.

This approach helped me find the audio vocal quality of two key characters: a non-binary person whose voice I now hear as a humorously melodious tenor (whereas initially I envisioned them as a somewhat flat-in-tone alto); and an English professor who I knew had an American West drawl but who I now know theatrically drags that drawl out a bit when looking to keep people at arm’s-length while, alternately, letting his voice fall into an unexpectedly sensuous tonality when reading poetry aloud in class or when speaking personally to someone important to him.

Whether my eventual readers hear any of this is, of course, an unknown. But I am encouraged in both of my approaches by two other experienced Shakespearean actors: Harriet Walter and Mark Rylance. Both have long performed The Bard, but now, later in life, both have had the opportunity for new takes on characters.

For Walter the parts were familiar but never allowed to be played by a woman: Brutus (Julius Caesar), Henry IV (play of same name), and Prospero (The Tempest). For Rylance it was the chance to return to a role he’d made profound and dear—Olivia in Twelfth Night—only to find there was more to be discovered.

 

Inhabiting

The notion of intimacy, of inhabiting, is vivid in both of their descriptions. Walter found herself silencing her personal speaking and interaction styles by listening to the characters, some of whom she might have  played opposite to earlier on. She inhabits by finding something within these male roles: “For these three roles, I discovered that power comes from stillness, from not giving anything away. All the things that I tend to do as Harriet – hand gestures, speaking a good deal – all that, gone.” [6]

Rylance found a similar minimalism in occupying the woman Olivia. A double viewing of Kabuki actor Tamasaburo in an old Japanese drama, once from the cheap seats and the next in row three, gave him an insight into how Olivia might be played effectively with “powerful reserve.” [7] Playing her at The Globe, where the audience is such a vibrant part of the performance (something Hamilton Dyer has commented on as well) and where listening to the audience as participant is key, gave Rylance additional notions as to how he might add nuance. A later, tragic experience (the unexpected death of Rylance’s stepdaughter Nataasha) turned Rylance inward, to a listening to Olivia herself. He commented, upon returning to rehearsals with long-time colleagues,

“These characters, when you play them again, it’s really like meeting an old friend. And there Olivia was kind of saying to me, ‘Now you know what I feel.’” [7]

There is nothing original to this notion, that one must listen and inhabit. All fiction writers are, perforce, actors. Like Mantel, they play things out inside their heads. But for myself and my characters, I’ll leave some last words to Rylance, words that have honed my awareness and enlivened my own sense of  immediacy for words and creating:

“Backstage,” he says, “I always have one ear to the house, judging the energy of the audience from their response to other scenes, enjoying the innovations and discoveries of my fellow actors, and privately harnessing the aspects of myself, the thoughts and actions, that are appropriate for my character.” [8]

 

© J.A. Jablonski 2021. All rights reserved.

HOW TO CITE THIS POST

Jablonski, J.A. (2021, Nov 8 ). Inhabiting Character. Blog post. J.A. Jablonski (website). https://jajablonski.com/2021/11/08/inhabiting-character/

 

IMAGE CREDITS

Harriet Walter as Brutus in Julius Caesar, Donmar Warehouse, 2012. Photo by Helen Maybanks.

Peter Hamilton Dyer as Friar Lawrence in Romeo and Juliet, Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre, 2021. Photo by Jane Hobson.

Mark Rylance as Olivia in Twelfth Night, Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre, 2012. Photo from the Opus Arte Globe On Screen DVD case cover.

 

SOURCES

[1] MasterClass. (26 Aug 2021) How to develop fictional characters: 8 tips for character development. MasterClass.

[2] Lawson, Mark. (9 Sept 2021). Hilary Mantel on staging The Mirror and the Light: ‘I should have been doing this all my life’. The Guardian.

[3] Rickman, Alan. (2010). Alan Rickman on importance of listening when acting. BBC HARDtalk. BBC News. YouTube video. Video posted on 14 Jan 2016. Runtime: 02:46. (Quotations in text above can be found at timestamps 01:57 and 02:13. A transcript is also provided.)

[4] Hamilton Dyer, Peter. (2002). Adopt an actor: Feste played by Peter Hamilton Dyer. The Shakespeare Globe Library and Archive. Record no: GB 3316 SGT/ED/LRN/2/15/5. Rehearsal notes & classroom activities (4 PDFs). (Quoted text is from “Rehearsal Notes 1.”)

[5] Urban Dictionary. Fanfiction. (7 Aug 2006). Entry written by Mistaki.

[6] McGlone, Jackie. (10 Aug 2017). Harriet Walter on Brutus and other heroines: Playing Shakespeare’s roles for women. The Herald.

[7] Brantley, Ben. (14 Aug 2016). How Mark Rylance became Olivia onstage. The New York Times.

[8] Rylance, Mark. (12 Nov 2016). Mark Rylance: Backstage, I always have one ear to the house. The Guardian.

Ursula Vernon | Nurk: The Strange, Surprising Adventures of a (Somewhat) Brave Shrew

Nurk cover, photo of Ursula Vernon, self-drawn portrait of Vernon with some of her characters

She intrigued me and I wanted to know more
about
this person – only to find she is quite the
person, possessing a full range of wit,
talent, curiosity, and humor.

 

My childhood reading was almost entirely of the magical or historical sort.  The Oz books by L. Frank Baum were a mainstay as was a wonderfully old copy of Bullfinch’s Mythology. Narnia, Middle Earth, Pern, Earthsea . . . all came much later.  For me the universe of imagination was filled with early 20th-century and ancient classic mythologies.  Too young to hear the sly wit and irony within Baum’s writing or see the androgynous, sexualized undertones of Neill’s illustrations, and too unknowing about adult ways to think Zeus’ carrying off of nymphs or Circe’s entrapment of Odysseus and his men to be anything but an adventure story, I was fortunate to grow up truly innocent of heart.

Gustave Doré  drawinf of Dante Alighieri in the Gloomy WoodNow, as Dante put it at the beginning of his Divine Comedy, “midway through the course my life”, when the “dark wood” is the complexity of adulthood and the onslaught of 21st century information age, it is less easy to retain one’s innocence or find it in storytelling. Angst, personal and global horrors, war, and violence in all manner of relationships, individual, collective, political, and whatnot, fill our many-formatted screens, our reading matter, and our lives. We bewail the loss of innocence yet so often do nothing to foster its existence.

So I was surprised and delighted to come across artist/writer/illustrator Ursula Vernon. This Wikipedia link refers to her as a creator of web comics and children’s books. I first came upon her as none of these things. I’d read a quote of hers somewhere which impressed me with its casual, tossed-off tone and fiercely tender insight, and which, I am embarrassed to say, I cannot now recall. She intrigued me and I wanted to know more about this person—only to find she is quite the person, possessing a full range of wit, talent, curiosity, and humor.

Vernon describes herself on her deviantART page as a “painter and a children’s book author.” She is very much more than that—human, sarcastic, fierce, whimsical, funny—but this post is not intended as an hagiographic advertisement. You can discover her for yourself via her website (and blog), Red Wombat Studio and Twitter (damn, she can be wickedly funny!).

 

Vernon writes under that surname (children’s books, the stunning webcomic Digger [1] and for adults as T. Kingfisher. The managing editor of M Parker Editing, Michelle Parker, has this insightful take on Vernon:

“The thing I love best about @UrsulaV‘s reworked fairy tales is how she reframes them using incredibly relatable POV characters as the lens, allowing readers to engage w/even the most absurd of stories. She is so good at bringing a deeply human element to the fantastical.” [2]

Here, I just want to natter on a bit about a book she published in 2008. It’s called Nurk. [3] It took me all of an hour to read and left me all hug-myself-happy and charmed. A book that can do that simple thing is a good book indeed. Happy and charmed: a neat little pair of emotions with which to begin any day.

 

1879 illustration of King John's Anger after Signing Magna ChartaI’ve read many children’s books and, as I began this post noting, many notable works of imaginative fiction. And I am a rather angry reader as a rule. That is, it doesn’t take much for a book to lose my interest or respect. As a former English teacher and theater major, and long-time information professional and educator (specializing in text analysis and classification) and an online librarian (specializing in research methods and building critical thinking skills), I cannot help but see the cracks in the scenery, the clunking of labored prose, the behind the scenes machinations of the making of a story.

I’ve been known to throw a book to the wall (violently) when something about it irks me on any one of many levels. It takes a really good writer to get past my wall of critical defenses. (And I am not saying this is the right way to read. I would love to be able to lose myself in any book I pick up, but me being me, it just isn’t possible.)

 

So . . . Nurk.

“Nurk is a quiet homebody of a shrew. But when a mysterious plea for help arrives in the mail, he invokes the spirit of his fearless warrior-shrew grandmother, Surka, and sets off to find the sender.” [from Vernon’s page on Nurk]
Cover of Nurk shows main character rowing a snail shell boatImmediately upon reading the first page, my hackles twitched.  I could hear hobbit and hitchhiker’s guide and all manner of many coy literary allusions. But something Vernon does, and does very well, managed to deflect my inner critic. She has the ability to make it all look and feel quite effortless.

 

Of course, the book seems to say, of course you are going to think of Bilbo Baggins when you read of a tiny little homebody shrew who loves all manner of food and comforts and whose legendary grandmother, the hero Surka, echoes Bilbo’s mother, Belladonna Took, “the ‘remarkable’ ninth child, and eldest daughter, of the Old Took and his wife Adamanta.” Stories about heroes, even those about tiny hobbits or even tinier shrews, should echo each other. That sensibility of the hero as a historic constant is why we love these stories in the first place. 

What Vernon does is reduce the Great Hero Drama to the matter-of-fact, wee universe of shrews, dragonflies, and mushrooms. And does so in a way that rekindles the emotions of what it is to be heroic via very small and simple actions. Nurk, unlike Mr. Baggins, has suffered tragedy, and his existence as a small mammal in a large world of predators makes timidity a logical act of self preservation. Yet within this timid heart is an heroic longing to do something grand. And this grand act begins as the momentous decision to return a mis-delivered letter.

 

I cannot tell much more of the tale without giving it way altogether, so I will let you explore it yourself. But I can say much about Vernon’s writing style, which is simultaneously simplistic in presentation and slightly tilted. Her humor is sly and modern.  On the one hand there is a kind of knowing wink towards the reader about these little funny creatures and their small worries and greater fears, while at the same time there is a genuine affection for them all, even the villainous mole. There is a breezy flow to her storytelling. And although one pretty much knows all will be be well, it’s not a given. What tickled me is that I found I really was in suspense about not just how it would end, but how it all would play out. I haven’t read a “kid’s book” that had me actually caring about “things” since I was, well, a kid! 

The illustrations are a delight as well. Inked in black on a flat white background, the line of her art is strong and easy in appearance. Whimsy abounds while cutesy is avoided (though cute isn’t). The creatures in this world are familiar and, in the case of the dragonflies, also very much not. Vernon’s sense of humor in relation to the representation of animals manifests the absurd blended with the deeply funny, even tender. And all are terrifically and confidently executed. You can get a sense of her overall approach on her Selected Artwork page here.

It must needs be mentioned that while Vernon refers to herself as a children’s book author and illustrator, she is a great deal more. Her genre is not herself. She is, in all the best ways, an Explorer who adventures out into imagined places and reports like a proper anthropologist. 

WikiFUR writes this about her:

Ursula’s work uses a range of styles, sometimes realistic, sometimes humorous and cute. One of her recurring themes is Gearworld, a world that juxtaposes the organic and the inorganic. Gearworld is a recurring theme in the work of Ursula Vernon. It is typified by eroded concrete, iron, gears, and the melding of organic and inorganic – Steam pipe tree, for instance, or fish that live in glass tubes bolted to the walls. Gearworld is vast and changeable – the normal rules of the world do not apply consistently, or in some cases at all. It is inhabited by a range of peoples, some fantastic, others mundane, all of whom remain to be explored.”

 

In addition to several other books (see her website for more on these), Vernon has done two other things worth mentioning.  First, she and her partner Kevin  host a weekly podcast titled Kevin and Ursula Eat Cheap. Each week they review a range of pre-packaged foods and then rate them. Archives and updates to the show are available here.

Second, she posted a very important piece on her blog about the sexual harassment that took place in 2013 at a Con she does not name. Titled “On Con Sexual Harassment – Being An Ally Is Freaky As Hell“, she reported on something that happened and what she tried to do about it and what the folks running the Con did in positive response. Her post set off an extended conversation in many venues. I thank her and laud her for what she did and that she made it all public.

“Keeping it real” is a corny cliche, but this is just what Vernon does. She reminds me of another Ursula who was noted for her realness and her bravery and deep imagination in writing, in opining, and in world-making: Ursula K. Le Guin. Their respective works are, in many ways, quite different, but in their quality of imagination and excellence of expression and execution, they are very much alike.  

 

 

NOTE: This essay is a modified version of one I originally published on my blog Dante’s Wardrobe.

 

© J.A. Jablonski 2021. All rights reserved.

 ABOUT BOOK THOUGHTS

“Book Thoughts” is an intermittent column within my blog. The essays are not so much book reviews as a book responses. I like to converse with and around the books I read. 

HOW TO CITE THIS POST

Jablonski, J.A. (2021, Oct 25). Ursula Vernon | Nurk: The Strange, Surprising Adventures of a (Somewhat) Brave Shrew. Blog post. J.A. Jablonski (website). https://jajablonski.com/2021/10/25/vernon-nurk/


IMAGE CREDITS

Cover of Nurk by Ursula Vernon. From Vernon’s website, Red Wombat Studio.

Portrait of Ursula Vernon. From Vernon’s website, Red Wombat Studio.

Self-drawn portrait of Ursula Vernon with characters. From Vernon’s website, Red Wombat Studio.

Dante Alighieri. In a Gloomy Wood. Artist: Gustave Doré. From the From OldBooks.org.

[King] John’s Anger after Signing Magna Charta. From Charlotte M. Yonge’s Young Folks’ History of ENgland (Boston: D. Lothrop & Co., 1879, pg. 101). Posted at ClipART ETC of the Florida Center for Instructional Technology.


SOURCES

[1] Vernon, Ursula. (2003-2011). Digger. Web comic version. Print version from Sofawolf Press.

[2] Parker, M. (aka Chelle). (2021, Nov 16). Twitter post.

[3] Vernon, Ursula. (2008). Nurk: The Strange, Surprising Adventures of a (Somewhat) Brave Shrew. Harcourt Children’s Books.