/lit/ - Literature

If a man falls from a window, does he make a sound?
-

A boy is born, and he stares out at his world with clear blue eyes. He is lifted up into the sky by the midwife, and placed in his mother’s arms. She stares back, sweat on her brow, a smile forcing itself. His father stands besides the bed, and he is smiling too. His suit is on a chair, and his tie is hanging off around his neck. For a moment, nothing exists except that baby boy, breathing quietly, wrapped in a white towel, feeling what it is to live.

Now; the man with the blue eyes stepped out of the glass-panel automatic doors onto the street. Around him the crowd ebbed and flowed like waves, suits floating past with briefcases shackled to their sides; faces set against the world. He felt like a raft, cast adrift, as he slid between the rows of black leather feet, marching in asynchronous harmony, their soles barely touching the grey granite slabs. He was wrapped in a brown coat against the razor-cold wind, and it still sliced through him. The man in the brown coat kept walking, and pulled his arms tight around himself; a shield against the world.

The world turned.

The man in the brown coast stepped in through the glass-panel automatic doors into the building. A woman in a pristine grey trouser suit was sat at a reception to his left, the computer gently humming. In between them was a vast expanse of rich navy carpet, unblemished and unending. As he looked at her, she seemed to stretch away into the distance, the carpet filling the horizon until he was as small as a grain of sand, in a dark, silent desert. He kept walking. The lift doors were silver, and the glowing control pad to the right had only one arrow: up. He pressed with a single red gloved digit, and stood in silence, until the doors opened with a hiss.

The world turned.

The man with the red gloves stepped into the lift. The panel inside had numbers on it that speared up through the clouds, and he selected one. He couldn’t see the clouds from his office, just the empty square below him, and a fountain in the middle, spitting its defiance at the grey sky every day. He turned to face the door, and felt the tiny tug at his heart as the lift ascended, and the walls closed in until the blank metal of the door enveloped the entirety of his being. The lift stopped, and the doors opened, and he saw the corridor stretching out in front of him like a timeline. He slipped off his gloves and straightened the white tie, slipped around his throat.

The world turned.

The man in the white tie stepped out of the lift. Strip lights tracked across the ceiling like bright lines on night road, and he walked, his steps regular and even, and the sound of the muffled drops was the only thing breaking the stillness of his path. The doors slid past him with metronomic regularity, their blank faces betraying nothing, only staring out at him. He saw his door at the end, and as he approached it, it twisted and bent and darkened until he was moving towards a black emptiness. He reached the end of the road.

The world turned.

The man looks at his office. He sees his glossy wooden desk, and his black swivel chair. He goes and sits in it, and, after a moments thought, fumbles underneath, and pulls up a lever. He feels the chair push up from beneath him, and he feels his knees bump the desk as he rose. There he sits, in static thought for a second, until he hears a noise. A bird is perched on the ledge besides his window. He goes to the window and slides it open, and the bird looks at him for a second before launching itself away, singing as it went[...]

The man stares out at the other buildings, three more of them, all facing inwards, all with windows lining them like scales. He sees another man, in the window opposite him, leaning his brown shoulders out the window as well, feeling the world blow his face. He looks to his right and sees another, staring too, and the hands gripping the frame are bright red against the concrete. He looks to his left and sees a third man, and his white tie is fluttering in the breeze. He sees the bird, wheeling in the air currents between them all, and he feels his blue eyes water in the wind.

The man sees the bird, playing in the air, rolling and revelling in its freedom, and he closes his eyes, and imagines, and, just for a moment, he is flying too.

The world turns.

Done. Sorry I did it this way, what do you all use to upload for future ref?

Much thankings.

>>1956328
You could use pastebin, I won't critique as I'm too tired to read but here's a bump for you.

>>1956343

pastebin, excellent. worth deleting this whole thread and just doing it that way? I suppose at least posting ITT means people know exactly how long it is.

>>1956315

Not bad not to my taste I don't like the whole de-humanising thing. Disconnectedness in society, and the question of suicide left at the end. But pretty good.

Except for this sentence repeating slipped. Could remove the second slipped

>He slipped off his gloves and straightened the white tie, slipped around his throat.

not too bad, OP. although the 'and the world turned' works and isn't a bad idea, i think the passage would read better without it - maybe just keep it there once after the first paragraph and then after the last one too.

>>1956372


Yeah, didn't spot the two slippeds, good shout. I'm not great at characterisation; I love Murakami cos he can weave such fantastic stories with the lead character being an entirely average and blank individual. That's what I'd go for if I launched into writing anything substantial.

How many men did you think there was? Had totally different answers to that before, it's interesting to hear how people read it.

>>1956403

Mmm, possibly. I like having it repeated just cos it reinforces the repetitiveness, the grind and the mundaneness of this daily routine, this rut. It makes it more than one man's trip upstairs, but thousands of trips upstairs, by thousands of men, in identical buildings, over days and months and years. Ties in with the changes of character description/blurring of individuality. I'd rather have that than the flow.

>>1956408

the last part talks about three people leaning out of different windows. Could be looking at himself...


OP if you look at editing the whole thing, just try rearranging the sentances to get more fluency...

eg:
>>1956314
>The man in the brown coast stepped in through the glass-panel automatic doors into the building

The man in the brown coast stepped into the building through the glass-panel automatic doors.

The second version reads a little better to me, but only opinion

>>1956443


Yeah, all good stuff, thanks. The fact that there's been a coupla typos and issues with flow is comforting in itself, at least it isn't godawful. Shame this style of writing can't really be adapted into extended prose, it's what I'm better at. Crippling fear of having to get a real job, woops.

I really like it man. Seems like you have already put a lot of work into it. I particularly liked "and he feels his blue eyes water in the wind." its so beautiful and so simple. Sorry I don't anything in the way of constructive crit but I don't really have the knowledge of writing enough to really do more than appreciation.

Your usage of semi-colons is very poor. It is something many have trouble with, but if you don't know how to properly use something then it's best to look it up. These sentences are a perfect example.

>Now; the man with the blue eyes stepped out of the glass-panel automatic doors onto the street. Around him the crowd ebbed and flowed like waves, suits floating past with briefcases shackled to their sides; faces set against the world.

After the first word, it ought to be a colon. Semi-colons are placed between two related, full sentences. Now is not a full sentence (I suppose you could argue about the interjection, but in any case it is more proper to use a colon) so it should not be a semi-colon. The semi-colon after that should be a comma, for the same reason as outlined above.

Take your new-found knowledge and prosper. Unless, of course, your fuck ups were intentional. Yes, I say that scornfully because you are a faggot. Feeling the need to preface your posting with "I'm stupid" and "some of these mistakes are on purpose" is irritating and portrays you as a weak-kneed kid who isn't ready for serious criticism.

I'll read it through and say more, probably.

You have potential. This is one of the better things I've read here (and I make it a point to look into every critique thread I see), but it could still use quite a lot of work.

There are a lot of actual grammatical errors and awkward constructions. I'll point some of them out as I go through this.

First off, I don't know if the birth is necessary. It's kind of off the track of the rest of the thing. If you can argue for why it should be kept and what it adds to the story (besides the whole 'born innocent then omfg life happens oh no what about our innocence' thing) maybe I'll change my mind, but I really don't think it's good for anything. It adds nothing of value. I say cut it.

>>1956555
Now, you can argue all you like about it, but "The world turned" is bad and you should feel bad. It is trite and unncessary and you say it so fucking much. Let me argue with you about it, because it is so very bad.

>reinforces repetitiveness
You do that plenty already, and it's not like the mundanity of modern business life is an unexplored fucking concept. Even if you didn't say it, we would all know, because that is really overdone.

>makes it more than one man's trip upstairs
Again, you already do this by leaving it open to the multiple persons interpretation.

What you want from it isn't all bad, but that is absolutely Not the way to go about it. It feels so forced and lame.

>>1956556
You have some unoriginal ideas and expressions which you ought to consider revising. The razor-cold wind sliced through him? We haven't heard that expression dozens of times, no sir.

The carpet stretches out into the distance and makes him feel small? How innovative!

And the general theme of the story is, of course, hackneyed beyond belief. Young man works 9 to 5, feels like everyone is the same, longs for freedom (you're seriously going to represent freedom with a goddamn bird? Fuck you.) and then maybe kills himself or at least thinks about it.

>>1956560
>and the bird looks at him for a second before launching itself away, singing as it went[...]

The fuck is up with the [...]? And your tense shift.

Also the fountain is defiantly spitting? You may want to alter that. It creats a rift in your mood. You should probably change it so the fountain is working For this collective mass of faceless inhumanity. The word defiance creates a kinship between the protagonist and the fountain. Since that is an anomaly you should cut it.

And what the hell kind of chair rises while you're sitting in it? I want one of those. All the adjustable chairs I've ever sat in will only go down while you're sitting in them.

>etc.

I know this is loosely put together, and I'm missing things probably, but I'm late for something and had to hurry. I'll come back and see if you had anything to add, later.

>>1956465

Fuck-ups as in changes of tense and confusion of character. Felt the need to preface with that cos people have cited them as flaws before, when I meant them.

Take the point on the semi-colons.

Threw in the baby bit mainly because each para started with "the man with X" and finished with a second identifying feature, Y. next one started "man with Y....Z" etc. I needed a way to provide him with an identity, or as close as it gets to one, from a paragraph preceding the first. Seems a bit contrived now.

Take the point about "the world turned"; especially now you're the second person to say it.I do still feel the story needed some reflection of time and its passing, but I could try and work that in somewhere else. Age the man as it continues perhaps.

That particular tense shift in the same sentence was unintentional, so a typo. The tense shifts throughout the story were planned. Fair on that one though. Considering you lectured me on semi-colons though, you should know how square brackets work. It meant that I was artificially inserting a pause for purposes of practicality/relevance where in the story there was none. In this case, I wanted to maintain the integrity of the paragraph but wasn't sure if I had room for it all. Hence that.

Take the point on the fountain as well, it does go against the whole clockwork perfection around him.

inb4 OP is a fag because everyone says this but in my defence, this was churned out in half an hour, and read over once. It was an exercise to see if I could still write (it had been a while) and I'd hope that most of the mistakes are correctable.

Thanks Anon! I'll be lurking here if you get back.

>>1956560

Oh, missed this one. You're right about the first one anyway, I didn't realise the second one was quite as overdone. Made a specific point of having really specific, vivid, dreamlike descriptions of the way things change around him, like the carpet, and the lift, and I hadn't seen that before. Maybe I need to read more.

And, yus, take the point on the "baaawwh teh wurld is horrid nd soul destroyin n gray" isn't a new concept but as I said, this was just an exercise for myself, and it provided a decent enough theme to roll with.

>>1956562

Oh and you're wrong about the chair. Not only are there chairs that do rise when you pull a lever, just as they sink, the act of him bumping his knees just makes him that little bit more human, especially in comparison with the lack of humanity elsewhere.

iss aight

Um... tennant?

I should be able to do better...

>>1957317
This anon for one likes the 'the world turned'. Although I didn't interpret it as ageing, because... the world's always turning. It's got to go through a few degrees in that time.

I agree about the wind slicing above, and the theme is indeed very, very familiar... but I think the writing works well enough in spite of that, so well done, OP. Alternative ending, less cliched...

>He sees the bird, wheeling in the air currents between them all, and he feels his blue eyes water in the wind.

>A TV suddenly crashes through his field of vision, narrowly missing the bird on its way to the ground.

>Shit, the man thinks. Today is looking up.

Guys, I need a verb to describe the act of moving around very awkwardly. If it helps, this act is being done by an obese male

>>1957418
Flounder.

>>1957422

Perfect! It's even phonetically exactly the kind of thing I was looking for. Thank you!

>>1957426
lumber

>>1957418

>pic related.

As it goes, I don't even think flounder's the right word. Floundering doesn't imply awkwardness - more uselessness and indecision.

I'd go for blunder, lurch, stumble praps.

>>1957495

and here's the picture. I'm stupid.

>>1957495
When you're talking about physical movement it does, or if not awkwardness definitely clumsiness.

>>1957511

I suppose. This is /lit/picking at its best.

Does he fart when he falls from the window? Then the answer to your first question is case sensitive to how shit scared he is about jumping. And besides how the fuck do you fall from a window? You fuckin jump, unless your a blind twat with parkinsons that likes to jizz off balconies in extreme danger wanking.

>>1957317
>in my defence, this was churned out in half an hour, and read over once.

You probably should have said so in the beginning. I would have been harder on you.

>>1957328
You definitely do need to read more if that's new to you. Especially if you think that what you wrote was 'vivid' and 'dreamlike' because it fell very flat and made little impression. If I could call to mind stories or poems written with this sort of thing I would recommend them. Alas, I cannot. You may want to start a thread asking for recommendations in that vein. It would be very valuable to you, having a better understanding of the techniques you want to use.

If you aren't going to scrap this, might I recommend altering the focus? It would be much more successful if you played down the mundane drone aspect and played up the confusion of character aspect. Since this is just slopped together in 30 minutes, changing the theme shouldn't be too big an ordeal. I think you could make this something worth reading if you stuck with it, tearing it apart and reassembling it in different proportions.

>>1957337
I want one of those chairs, then. I feel cheated by all the chairs in my life up to this point.