Poof : : Caleb Nelson University of Massachusetts Boston
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University of Massachusetts Boston ScholarWorks at UMass Boston Graduate Masters Theses Doctoral Dissertations and Masters Theses 6-1-2015 : : poof : : Caleb Nelson University of Massachusetts Boston Follow this and additional works at: http://scholarworks.umb.edu/masters_theses Part of the American Literature Commons, Communication Commons, and the Fine Arts Commons Recommended Citation Nelson, Caleb, ": : poof : :" (2015). Graduate Masters Theses. Paper 325. This Open Access Thesis is brought to you for free and open access by the Doctoral Dissertations and Masters Theses at ScholarWorks at UMass Boston. It has been accepted for inclusion in Graduate Masters Theses by an authorized administrator of ScholarWorks at UMass Boston. For more information, please contact [email protected]. : : POOF : : SHORT STORIES Master’s Thesis by CALEB NELSON Submitted to the Office of Graduate Studies, University of Massachusetts Boston, in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Arts in English June 2015 Creative Writing Program Copyright © 2015 Caleb Nelson All rights reserved : : POOF : : SHORT STORIES Master’s Thesis by CALEB NELSON Approved as to style and content by: ________________________________________________ Jill McDonough, Assistant Professor of English ________________________________________________ John Fulton, Associate Professor of English ________________________________________________ Daphne Kalotay, Visiting Writer ________________________________________________ Elizabeth Klimasmith, English Graduate Program Director ________________________________________________ Cheryl Nixon, Department Chair of English ABSTRACT : : POOF : : SHORT STORIES June 2015 Caleb Nelson, B.A., University of Massachusetts Boston M.A., University of Massachusetts Boston Directed by Professor Jill McDonough Storytellers have an interdependent relationship with their narratives. If you have ever told a lie, you understand. Stories take on a life of their own, as you consider the potential ramifications of each contingent piece. Definite sets of things happen as results of specific other things. If you throw an ax at me, only a few things can immediately happen, and our relationship will be forever changed. Events evolve. When we create or discover a narrative, we live by its logic. Upon consideration, a moment compels a series of moments modulated by a voice, a single perspective, a personal narrative, which is to say a story. Stories are fabrications of reality, conveyance mechanisms of fact, fiction, and assertion. Stories are contrived, whereas narratives just exist. Narratives are there to be discovered. They are the veins of human action left by life’s tendency toward disorder. Narrative is entropy through time. iv Why should I fear that which cannot exist when I do? - Epicurus v TABLE OF CONTENTS MEMORIES LIKE FLIES .................................................................................................. 1 ASMR ............................................................................................................................... 20 A DRAGON GOBBLES THE SUN ................................................................................. 24 AMERICAN DREAM ...................................................................................................... 29 RABBIT ATTACK ........................................................................................................... 38 TRYING TO GO ON A BIKE TRIP ................................................................................ 44 ANCESTORS ................................................................................................................... 50 火................................................................................................................................... 54 IN SHOWER IN LOVE .................................................................................................... 63 MISTOOK ........................................................................................................................ 69 ALMOST REPUBLICAN ................................................................................................ 75 TWO RINGS .................................................................................................................... 77 GRANDDAD'S HOUSE .................................................................................................. 86 STALE BREAD BASKET ............................................................................................... 95 IN LAWS ........................................................................................................................ 101 PICC LINE ...................................................................................................................... 116 SCRATCH TICKET ....................................................................................................... 121 INCENSE OR SPICE ..................................................................................................... 129 PICTURESQUE ............................................................................................................. 134 YIN ................................................................................................................................. 140 YANG ............................................................................................................................. 144 SILVER WAVE .............................................................................................................. 146 vi MEMORIES LIKE FLIES One Sunday afternoon I whipped Fedna with a strand of grass, chasing him while he stacked rocks waist high. We laughed. I played the Egyptian to his Jew, as we saw acted out on the felt board in Bible School. We were five. My mom ran up, grabbed under my arms, and next thing we’re in the kitchen, and I have a terrible new story in which I am doomed to take part. That is how I found out that I am white. Fedna is black, as black as he is a friend to me now, meaning superficially. My mom knocked a wedge between us that day that only dug deeper as we learned our stories. When I saw him a few years ago he was an aspiring record producer, addicted to heroine, and homeless. “The world is a stage,” Shakespeare noted, and we play out a part established by our collective ancestors. Fedna often came to dinner when we were little because his mom locked him out of the house until 10pm. Things happen, we react, and those actions send us down a limited number of paths. We each live within the narratives we have learned and we act them out accordingly. Narratives are functions of time and entropy. They exist in the written word, but I think that we can find a definition of narrative that reaches beyond language. James was older. He got shot in the leg in a drive-by while walking with Fedna’s older brother, who’d just gotten out of juvie. Attractive narratives about gangsters circulated giving symbolic realness to a rolled up pant leg, showing off your jail time. James got a gun. He got caught. He spent two years in Walpole. Now he says he cannot get into college. I asked the admissions office at UMB, and it is true—no gun charges. We play out the narratives our parents and peers give us, and the results sometimes feel 1 like fate. We feed off of each other for direction and purpose. Writers interpret narratives we play out into media. We act and react often based on context, on the stories that we are told. The truth, for example, has a narrative. Try expressing truth without syllables, words, time, movement. Even dance is narrative. I play lose with the term because it is widely defined. We often hear these words used interchangeably: fiction, narrative, and story. We use story to define narrative, narrative to define story, and both story and narrative to describe fiction. We use all three to convey truth and reality. We use fictions, stories, and narratives to unpack our memories, and to understand what happened earlier in time than the earliest oral history we’ve heard. We use them to unpack reality, and to identify objective things. They offer us awareness to how and why things happen. They work interdependently, with differences. Truths exist independent of stories. Truths are simple things like time and gravity. Stories sometimes convey truth. They can make the truth palatable. They can also create enticing lies, dangerous lies. Fiction should be about what is true in a grander sense. It should attempt to approximate the infinite nature of the unknown. Salmon Rushdie suggests that literary fiction, by definition, must grapple with politics and economic disparity. “It seems imperative to me that literature enter such arguments, because what is being disputed is nothing less than what is the case, what is truth and what is untruth” (465). The ability to think critically about things that have happened, hinges on our ability to remember and process them. Stories help us process, remember, and share events by pinpointing their emotional impact within a climax. Stories allow us to experience and think about our emotions, and their effects. This essay offers an overview 2 of the things I read and my thoughts as I wrote and compiled my thesis. It is an effort to reflect on the relevance of fiction, to understand how stories work, and to give definition to the concept, narrative. Everyone involved in an incident formulates a personal narrative. We call these stories, and they are filtered