[lit-ideas] Annie Proulx
- From: "Andy Amago" <aamago@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: "lit-ideas" <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Sat, 17 Dec 2005 09:49:02 -0500
I was curious about Brokeback Mountain (it's based on one of her short
stories). I went to annieproulx.com These are some comments from her forum
page about her works in general:
Well, having first noted Proulx's almost hysterical enjoyment for explaining
every minute object in a fifty metre radius of her characters, I wasn't too
keen.
One of my favourite of these infamous sentences, might I add, appears in the
first chapter of the novel; "'If I get away', he said, dragging breath into his
constricted throat, and briefly seeing, not what had happened up beside the
wall, but his grandfather spraying the tree with Bordeaux mixture, the long
wand hissing in the leaves, the poisoned codling moths bursting up like flames,
the women and children, himself, on the ladder picking apples, the strap of the
bag cutting into his shoulder, the empty oak-splint baskets under the trees and
the men loading the full baskets into a wagon, the frigid packing room, old
Roseboy with his sloping, bare neck and his dirty hat, pointed like a cone,
nothing but a trimmed-up old syrup filter, tapping on the barrel heads,
serious, saying over and over, 'Take it easy now, one rotten apple spoils the
whole goddamn barrel'". Now take deep breaths.
However, after some time I began to feel more positive towards it, if not a
little alarmed, as Proulx seems to enjoy killing off her characters
sporadically, just in case the reader starts to nod off.
I do get the feeling from time to time that if I were in fact a murderer,
miner, farmer, trapper, rancher, born in the 1920s, who spent most of his life
getting trapped in mines, finding human remains, being attacked by giant fiery
dustballs, wandering around with no apparent reason and sending postcards to
dead people, the book would have been simply fantastic (look, I can do them
too). Alas, I am no such man.
________________________
Well, I have to agree with you on the point that a large number of her
characters find an end to their miserable sufferings. Hell, read Accordian
Crimes. I had to stop in the middle because I just couldn't take one more
despicable bastard croaking in some hellish way. But I picked it up again
because it's so hard to tear one's eyes away from a good train wreck.
When I read Ace in the Hole I was almost shocked that it ended on a *gasp*
somewhat positive note.
Sometimes I think reading Proulx is like a dog lapping anti-freeze. It's awful
tasty and hard to stop but nothing compares to the belly-ache that comes with
it.
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