Mazes

If you spend any time working on mazes, you discover that the easiest way to solve them is most often by starting at the end. Mazes are usually designed to be solved forwards, so all the tricks and dead ends are engineered to trap the forward traveling individual. (It's true! Try it!)

I think when you are building a good story, or any work of art that is experienced by an individual over time, there is a lot to be gained by working the same way. Anyone who has followed a television show for years only to be let down by the ending will agree with me. We owe it to our audiences to know where we are leading them, because every step of the story should be in service to that.

When you are reading a book (a good book) often it feels like being inside a corn maze. You are very alive within that moment, but you can't always see beyond the walls. As you proceed you gain more information, but are still hemmed in to what the writer chooses to reveal. It isn't until the end that you realize how each of those turns brought you to this moment. If it is a stupid maze then you feel let down, quickly get into your car and drive off. If it is a good maze, then there is a moment where you stand there completely aghast at how all those little pieces and parts inexplicably brought you to this perfect moment.

There have been many times that I've read a book, realizing as I read it that it is a pretty good book. Well-written, good characters, lots of beautiful little moments. Happily I continue along until I get to the ending, where the writer just completely eviscerates me with one amazing paragraph that puts everything prior into a completely new light, bowling me over with the power of what I just read. These are the best books. These are my favorite books. These are the books that sit in my heart and haunt me. (Selfishly, these are also the books that I want to write.)

Connie Willis does this and it is one of the reasons I love her writing so much. She doesn't seem to get talked about these days outside the museum of science fiction, but I suggest anyone who hasn't read her work pick up Passage, Lincoln's Dreams, or Doomsday Book. The writer knows what she is doing, even when the reader is completely lost.

Henry James does the same thing, but in a different way. What I love about his stories is that sometimes you don't know the characters until the very last paragraph. You think you do, but in one beautiful moment they turn around and look you square in the face, saying, "No, you don't know the first thing about me. This is who I am and it is far grander, stranger, and more pathetic than you could have guessed." Suddenly their world is larger than yours.

Why do I so love my books this way? Maybe because this is my hope for life as well. So often things seem random, meaningless, messy, dull, and mean. If I can cling to the hope that they aren't meaningless at all, but leading to a magnificent final paragraph, then it makes it easier to accept the journey.

To some extent, isn't that what we are trying to do when we make art? Put the world back into order and prove that it wasn't a lame maze, but a totally awesome one?

I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues - Elton John

Black Swan

Nina is under an enchantment. She has been held by a sorcerer and kept innocent, alone and pure. She lives in a world that is white and pink, trapped in an eternal childhood. Her sorcerer is not Von Rothbart, but a mother who keeps her close through webs of guilt and control. Nina is a “sweet child”. She isn’t allowed to be anything more.

In many ways Nina is the archetypal, romantic ballerina. She is so thin she could balance on a rose without breaking the stem. She looks as though she was born to play the sylph, the wili or the white swan. She is so wrapped up in everyone’s conception of her that she has no voice of her own.

In these tales is usually a prince who arrives to rescue the princess, but for Nina there is no prince. Instead, her hope of salvation lies in the role of a lifetime, the lead in Swan Lake. Though she is perfect for the white swan, one senses that it is the more difficult role of Black Swan that allures her. Her restraint, her timidity, and her inexperience prevent her from being able to fully embody the Black Swan, but Nina persists in chasing after the character. All she has to do is let go, but letting go means loosing the identity that has been created for her.

In many ways the film is about control. Nina’s choreographer wants to control her transformation. If he yells at her enough, plays with her, and pushes her in the right direction, maybe he can take credit when she finally flies. Nina’s mother wants to control her daughter and keep her as a portrait of innocence and a symbol of success. Nina thinks that if she can control her body, then she can control her life. All are desperately scrambling to maintain control, but in the end each is powerless. Only Lily seems to have any semblance of power and that might be because she doesn’t care as much as the others. She is the Black Swan and she leaves a darkly illuminated path for Nina to follow.

Nina does follow. She finds her prince. She gains her perfect moment and finally transforms into the role of the Black Swan. The darkness was underneath her skin the whole time. That was why she had spent her whole life scratching to get down to it.

But, the Black Swan leaves Nina just as the prince betrayed Odette. Nina’s body and mind cannot maintain the level of intensity and psychosis required to hold onto the character. The world shifts around her and she cannot separate reality from fantasy. Horrors unfold, fears loom, she defeats them all, breaks the enchantment, and then collapses. At the end of everything, her face is a mask of wonderment. She knows that she has achieved her goal. She is willing to accept the cost. One wonders if she knew all along what it would be.

The tragedy is that, even at the height of her accomplishment, the greatest praise her choreographer can muster is to call her his “little princess”. Not so different from a “sweet child”.

Black Swan is a smart, well-cast film. It is a bit of a melodrama, but once you step into the world it creates, all of the drama is well placed and vital to the story. Black Swan is a Jekyll and Hyde version of a dark fairytale where every room holds the potential for a nightmare. The dance scenes are beautifully and intelligently filmed. It is clear that Natalie Portman spent her training time focusing on port de bras and epaulement. The audience didn’t have to watch her stumbling around trying to create a clear facsimile of extension and hip placement. Instead, her upper body told the story and (from someone who has seem many films with actresses trying to dance) this was a smart, smart choice. Even if it was hard to watch in many places, I really enjoyed the film and loved seeing how respectfully all the details of the dance world were portrayed.

The journey to becoming a well-balanced and powerful dancer is not a painless one. It is a road filled with sacrifices, where it all too easy to become obsessed or dejected. In my time as a dancer and teacher, I’ve experienced the struggle and seen many battle their personal demons in the classroom and onstage. That’s why a supportive community is so important in the dance world, as is a healthy dosage of the real world.

Terrible Things - April Smith and the Great Picture Show

Opening the door

This year I completed my first novel, a young adult fantasy that takes place in the fictional country of Parnear. It took me over a year to complete the first draft (which seems embarrassingly long) and probably about another year to work through all of the revisions. I tend to overcomplicate and obscure things, so a lot of the work was geared towards keeping momentum in the story and characters. In the process I learned a lot about writing, and a lot about my own weaknesses and strengths.

Mostly, I learned that I can do it. Like many who claim they want to be writers, my hard-drive is cluttered with unfinished stories and concepts. But, I decided to apply the same mindset to writing as I do to choreographing. There was a time when I couldn't imagine creating more than one full dance a year. Now each year I choreograph hours and hours of movement. All it takes is practice, persistence, and a willingness to believe in the power of your work. And you know what? I really, really like the book that I've written. I'm not ashamed to say that I'm proud of the work I put forward. I've accomplished something that I always wanted to do and I've done it with flair. So take that!

Now I'm going through the agonizing process of querying and... (don't tell!) I've started on a sequel. Because I know exactly what I want to happen next and how I want it to happen. The door in my brain that enables me to do this has opened wide and I don't know if I can ever shut it again. Now I'm addicted to writing stories, the same way I'm addicted to making dances. Only two of the most impractical career choices ever, right? Ah well. Those who know me will recognize the following quote: "I must obey the inscrutable exhortations of my soul."

Welcome to my blog!

Rambling Man - Laura Marling