Subject: Re: wimmen talking
From: Cecilia Baader (ceciliaann@hotmail.com)
Date: Fri Oct 20 2000 - 00:56:55 GMT
> But is the above REALLY a sample of how you talk when
> alone in your boudoirs? 'Not that damn little-boy sweet ...
> a special kind of sweet .....' ? 'That DARLING blue cardigan...'?
> Oh God, not that. Not that DARLING blue. Anything but
> that.
I must admit, Scottie B., that there is a little something contrived in it.
And you put your finger on it. I mean, there are certain things that are
spot-on, in terms of WHAT might be said. But HOW it's said? Nope.
For instance, what you were wearing when something important happened is an
important detail, and you drop it into the story. "...I remember I had
Joyce Morrow's cardigan on," Eloise might say. "Do you know the one I'm
talking about? She wore it to the movies that night that Jack made a fool
of himself. Do you remember?"
That's the sort of detail a best friend and former roommate would
understand. And if Salinger was telling the story correctly, Mary Jane
would wrinkle her brow. "The one with the brown buttons?" she'd ask.
"No," Eloise might then reply. "The one with the detailing near the right
shoulder, in that lighter shade of blue."
I can almost see Mary Jane's brow clearing at that point. "Oh, THAT
cardigan. I always did like it. Good choice. I'll bet you looked darling
in it."
Eloise should probably also mention something like, "Oh, and my hair turned
out really well that day. This was back when I was still wearing it a
little long and I was always having trouble with the way my bangs were
always flipping the wrong way."
And Mary Jane would reply, "I'm glad that you cut it. To tell you the
truth, Eloise, long hair is all wrong for you. I'm surprised Walt ever gave
you the time of day." At this point the two of them would go into
uncontrollable fits of laughter, remembering just how much time Walt had
given her. And only then, when the important background had been
established, would the story continue.
There's nothing like reminiscing with your former roommate.
I mean, it's nearly there. He's picked up on the sort of details that are
dropped into a story like that, but I don't think he knows why they're
there. He's seen that even best friends are sometimes catty with each
other, and that they speak in the usual shorthand.
I guess it's the italics-- they're in the wrong spots. Like playing all the
right notes but in the wrong key.
Regards,
Cecilia.
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