{"id":1971,"date":"2020-04-08T03:21:32","date_gmt":"2020-04-08T03:21:32","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/fortstreet\/?post_type=article&p=1971"},"modified":"2020-04-09T05:22:01","modified_gmt":"2020-04-09T05:22:01","slug":"luca","status":"publish","type":"article","link":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/fortstreet\/article\/luca\/","title":{"rendered":"Student work – English Extension 1 imaginative writing"},"content":{"rendered":"

English Extension 1 imaginative writing, based on stimulus by Clarice Lispector – by Luca Charlier<\/strong><\/p>\n

At the Dusk of Life<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cWhen art, become independent, depicts its world in dazzling colors, a moment of life has grown old and it cannot be rejuvenated with dazzling colors. It can only be evoked as a memory. The greatness of art begins to appear only at the dusk of life.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2014 Guy Debord, The Society of the Spectacle<\/em>, Section 188<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Macabea lent against cold brick, Doc Martens crunching glass into asphalt. To her left, two drunks were spat out the swinging doors of the Judgement Bar like broken teeth. They stumbled through the dirty yellow light that crept out of the pub windows and lurched around bipping cars across Oxford Street. Their steel caps briefly twinkled before they were swallowed by the swollen darkness of Forbes Street.<\/p>\n

Her phone beeped in her pocket, causing her to cut short the first \u2018Woo Hoo!\u2019 of Song 2 <\/em>rocking through her Discman. A text. It was Mads. Technically his full name was Madidas and he quite rightfully hated it. She wasn’t allowed to call him anything but Mads.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 YO YO YO!<\/em><\/p>\n

Macabea rolled her eyes. Here we go again. She shot back.<\/p>\n

What has made you so hyper ?<\/em><\/p>\n

Too many ideas. I think you need to be moving now<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Do we need to meet up? <\/em><\/p>\n

She shrugged, and started walking vaguely in the direction of the Cross station.<\/p>\n

Yeah sure but try out my meter!<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Yeah nah I\u2019m a free spirit<\/em><\/p>\n

So you\u2019re BAC over the limit? <\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Don’t worry, I\u2019ve kissed my books<\/em><\/p>\n

But ignored the bible by your looks<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 What now, you dropping a sermon?<\/em><\/p>\n

Imagine if I had the wisdom\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 LOL can\u2019t even stick to your own rhythm<\/em><\/p>\n

Well my lyricism\u2019s no given<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You clearly need a new system\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

Now listen we\u2019re getting distracted<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Careful, your beat\u2019s gone flaccid<\/em><\/p>\n

Hey I\u2019ve still got my pants on<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Not while I\u2019m holding your belt as ransom<\/em><\/p>\n

More like you\u2019re belting out lines at random<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThe armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Phew you sure quote with wit man<\/em><\/p>\n

BTW you have to turn right here.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 What can I say? I write your body electric<\/em><\/p>\n

More like a bloody eclectic<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 We\u2019re the zenith of dialectic<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0Huh its not often I hear that<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 So on that note are you here yet?<\/em><\/p>\n

I\u2019m adhering to your direction <\/em><\/p>\n

just need protection on these Darlinghurst Nights<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Good like I told you hurry, I’m in the station<\/em><\/p>\n

You speak like I\u2019m in control<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Well I like to think we control you together<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em><\/p>\n

Macabea tucked the phone away and looked up. The new LEDs of the Coke sign gave the wet streets a faint red glow, accentuated by the taillights of grumbling cars. Their passing headlights shifted the soft shadows of poles, people and council bins across brick walls and into darkened windows.<\/p>\n

The fire station was shut up at this time of night. A fancy-looking guy in a suit fiddled with the needle dispenser. He tucked a handful of small crinkling plastic bags into his pockets while he nervously looked over his shoulders. Macabea cracked a small smile. \u2018Least they kept the centres around for people who need them. Druggies were a lot rarer now after all that shit got pushed into Alexandria. Another text.<\/p>\n

It was Surry Hills.<\/em><\/p>\n

Right. Of course. She went across the road, part of a small and sorry herd sneaking down the street, squishy trespassers in a rolling scene of asphalt and metal. Most of the neon signs were dead, except for a ubiquitous double golden arch further down. Darlinghurst Road was quiet. She could faintly hear El Alamein Fountain. Her phone beeped again.<\/p>\n

You can\u2019t hear the fountain from there.<\/em><\/p>\n

Right. Of course Mads was correct. As usual. Macabea turned into Kings Cross station and headed down to the platform.<\/p>\n

There was more light and sound down here than anywhere else in the area. The diffused glow of smart phones lit up downturned faces as bodies shuffled up and down escalators or fell into cold metal benches. An eight foot flatscreen bust of Andrew Bolt yelled out of a hole in the grimy black wall. Macabea didn\u2019t get a chance to hear his rambling before a pair of train headlights washed out the screen and a screeching yellow train lurched to a stop between them. One nostril was still visible through the train windows.<\/p>\n

She whipped out her phone and shot Mads a text.<\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0Is this the train I get on?<\/em><\/p>\n

Yes<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0There’s someone shouting. <\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0About to get violent by the looks. <\/em><\/p>\n

Of course there is. <\/em><\/p>\n

That\u2019s what makes this interesting.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0I don\u2019t want to.<\/em><\/p>\n

Hop to it.<\/em><\/p>\n

You can\u2019t say no.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Reflection<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong>At the Dusk of Life <\/em>appropriates Lispector\u2019s self-aware textual construction as a metafictive world which gradually deconstructs its own literary illusion and meaning as a postmodern and hyperreal text.<\/p>\n

Lispector\u2019s narrator converses directly with the reader as a reflection on the process of writing and representing the world. Conversational language and rhetorical questions such as \u201cdon\u2019t you agree\u201d give the text\u2019s narrator low modality, facilitating a self-aware deconstruction of the text and undermining its epistemological authority.<\/p>\n

My piece reimagines this conversation as an exchange of text messages in heightened language between a character and her author, abandoning Lispector\u2019s low modality for an epigrammatic conversation which is too<\/em> certain of itself. The deconstruction of my text occurs exactly because the characters don\u2019t<\/em> question their world, \u201cof course Mads was correct,\u201d despite Macabea\u2019s inconsistent experiences of the fountain.<\/p>\n

The heightened language and academic allusions to Shakespeare, Whitman and Slessor within these text messages create a stream of \u201csucculent terms\u201d and \u201cmeaty nouns\u201d jarringly juxtaposed with Macabea\u2019s \u201cdirty\u201d world. This intelligent game of verbal virtuosity parallels Lispector\u2019s imperative to \u201cspeak simply\u201d because it becomes the abstracted \u201cgold\u201d that \u201cdepicts its world in dazzling colours\u201d.<\/p>\n

Madidas\u2019 name further extends Lispector\u2019s allusion to King Midas. This combination of Ancient Greek myth and commercial sport brand symbolises the constructed nature of Mads and Macabea, who lack intrinsic character outside their brand associations. ADIDAS is a particularly postmodern symbol due to its ever evolving meaning. From the backronym \u2018All Day I Dream about Sport\u2019 to Korn\u2019s \u2018All Day I Dream about Sex\u2019, its meanings probe the cultural constructions of symbolism itself. This reflects that fact that Macabea and Mads live both literally and metaphorically in the \u201cnew LEDs of the Coke sign.\u201d This broadens Lispector\u2019s concern with the \u201csecret meaning\u201d that \u201cemanates\u201d from words into a reflection on symbolism, representation and meaning within a Postmodern hyperreality defined by little else.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Luca Charlier (Year 12)<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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