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Wednesday reading
Feb. 26th, 2014 01:01 pmI read two short stories by Zadie Smith, because I haven't read anything by her since White Teeth, and I'd heard she'd written something science fictional. One of the short stories, "Meet the President!" was indeed science fictional, but I was equally taken by the other, "Moonlit Landscape with Bridge."
( Plot details )
In both stories there's a huge wealth and power differential between the viewpoint character and the people he encounters. Both fifteen-year-old Bill Peek and the unnamed minister think of themselves as beneficent (Bill Peek snaps a quick picture of himself helping the nine-year-old to send to his classmates and teacher and congratulates himself on thereby earning points in his Empathy module; the minister of the interior tries to distribute water to a thirsty crowd), but the sum of their thoughts and actions reveal them to be selfish and casually cruel. As the stories progress, the realities (personal and environmental) that the other 98 percent live with press in closer and closer (in a physical, tactile sense) until the character can no longer ignore them--and, indeed, is overwhelmed by them.
( Have a couple of quotes )
I wish I had further commentary to add, but I don't. I'm just thinking, musing on writing, on what stories we tell and how we tell them.
( Plot details )
In both stories there's a huge wealth and power differential between the viewpoint character and the people he encounters. Both fifteen-year-old Bill Peek and the unnamed minister think of themselves as beneficent (Bill Peek snaps a quick picture of himself helping the nine-year-old to send to his classmates and teacher and congratulates himself on thereby earning points in his Empathy module; the minister of the interior tries to distribute water to a thirsty crowd), but the sum of their thoughts and actions reveal them to be selfish and casually cruel. As the stories progress, the realities (personal and environmental) that the other 98 percent live with press in closer and closer (in a physical, tactile sense) until the character can no longer ignore them--and, indeed, is overwhelmed by them.
( Have a couple of quotes )
I wish I had further commentary to add, but I don't. I'm just thinking, musing on writing, on what stories we tell and how we tell them.
