A Tiresian Tragedy

I haven't blogged as much recently, partly due to the fact I've been blogging here, but also due to the fact its been difficult to write about a particular subject. Well, anything really. I mean, I have so much to say that before I can even go all ninja finding writing materials that I've forgotten what I wanted to say. I'll sit and ponder for ages what it was that I was thinking and another idea fades like a shooting star.

It really is starting to become a problem (ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ

Recently though I've been working on a new story for my Textual Intervention module. We're studying fairy tales; their dynamics, how there is underlying intratextuality and how ANGELA CARTER BASICALLY WROTE LOTS OF PORN (yup). But I love her work, and it actually influenced my decision for my assignment piece, which also takes its form from my favourite fairy tale; The Little Mermaid.

Now, I know what you may be thinking, "Oh I love it! I've watched the Disney version!" - NO. Stop, please don't go on because to me, it just takes the essence away from the original story. It just polluted the story with unnecessary characters and campy villains and oh dear I really can't go on any further. But the original by Hans Christian Anderson, is a tale of unrequited love, self-sacrifice and humanity. Yeah, it probably sounds like a misery machine and do you know what? Perhaps it is. The first time I read it I felt melancholy; I guess, since Anderson's original reader was for a man who would never return his love, I can sympathise. But there is something I was fascinated with: the notion that even though we come from different places and speak different languages these cannot hinder us from tearing down barriers and escaping our roots. But when we tear ourselves from the past, we can't go back. When our hearts are set on something we can't persuade them out of it. We should follow what we want and if it leads to misery, then we can proudly say that we did what we wanted to do. That, in essence, is what I find to be one of the most poignant messages within the tale.

Although my retelling of the story is actually intentionally supposed to be depressing  (〃￣ω￣〃ゞ Here is an excerpt from my piece called A Tiresian Tragedy:

But Warren and I were aware that none of them were like us. They had a linear path that was set for them, whilst ours was twisted and bent, marred by transience and uncertainty. When my family saw me stray from what they wanted they left me to the obfuscation and retreated. To them, our family was a machine and I was a broken cog that should be replaced. Now, their lives functioned like clockwork.

We had planned that day to take a walk down to the beach in the hope that we’d either be able to pull or get hideously drunk trying. As I pulled myself onto a chair at the beach bar, I felt my skin sizzle like the electric wires that stretched across the city. Even in this weather the scarring, though barely traceable in normal weather, felt as if it were suppurating. The glints of glass that remained embedded in my skin felt as if they shimmered as the rays of light danced upon my cheeks.

I'll be uploading it to my blog in the near future, once I'm entirely satisfied with it. Hopefully I'll be posting more regularly now~