Monday, February 19, 2007
the way Eggers ends it
This is my favourite story by Dave Eggers. He wrote A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and many many short short stories, mostly published in this site:
http://books.guardian.co.uk/shortshortstories/0,,1178980,00.html
They are very good (at least I like them very much).
This particular story has two endings. One version is the on-line one, the other, printed in a little chapbook colloection. Here’s the on-line version:
What The Water Feels Like To The Fishes
by Dave Eggers
Like the fur of a chinchilla. Like the cleanest tooth. Yes, the fishes say, this is what it feels like. People always ask the fishes, 'What does the water feel like to you?' and the fishes are always happy to oblige. Like feathers are to other feathers, they say. Like powder touching ash. We smile and nod. When the fishes tell us these things, we begin to understand. We begin to think we know what the water feels like to the fishes. But it's not always like fur and ash and the cleanest tooth. At night, they say, the water can be different. At night, when it's very cold, it can be like the tongue of a cat. At night, when it's very very cold, it's like cracked glass. Or honey. Or forgiveness, they say, ha ha. When the fishes answer these questions - which they are happy to do - they also ask why. They are curious things, fish are, and thus they ask, 'Why? Why do you want to know what the water feels like to the fishes?' And we are never quite sure. The fishes press further. 'Do you breathe air?' they ask. The answer is yes. Well then, they say, 'What does the air feel like to you?' And we do not know. We think of air and we think of wind, but that's another thing. Wind is air in action, air on the move, and the fishes know this. Well then, they ask again, 'What does the air feel like?' And we have to think about this. Air feels like air, we say, and the fishes laugh mirthlessly. 'Think!' they say. 'Think,' they say, now gentler. And we think and we guess that air feels like hair, thousands of hairs, swaying ever so slightly in breezes microscopic. The fishes laugh again. 'Do better, think harder,' they say, encouraging us. It feels like language, we say, and they are impressed. 'Keep going,' they say. It feels like blood, we say, and they say, 'No, no, now you're getting colder.' The air is like being wanted, we say, and they nod approvingly. The air is like being pushed and pulled and yanked, punched and slapped and misunderstood and loved, we say, and the fishes sigh and touch our forearm sympathetically.
Ok, now, for the print version, take the last sentences and replace with this:
…The air is like being wanted, we say, and they nod approvingly. The air is like getting older, we say, and they smile their big fish smiles.
Which ending do you like better?
¶ 5:36 PM They are very good (at least I like them very much).
This particular story has two endings. One version is the on-line one, the other, printed in a little chapbook colloection. Here’s the on-line version:
What The Water Feels Like To The Fishes
by Dave Eggers
Like the fur of a chinchilla. Like the cleanest tooth. Yes, the fishes say, this is what it feels like. People always ask the fishes, 'What does the water feel like to you?' and the fishes are always happy to oblige. Like feathers are to other feathers, they say. Like powder touching ash. We smile and nod. When the fishes tell us these things, we begin to understand. We begin to think we know what the water feels like to the fishes. But it's not always like fur and ash and the cleanest tooth. At night, they say, the water can be different. At night, when it's very cold, it can be like the tongue of a cat. At night, when it's very very cold, it's like cracked glass. Or honey. Or forgiveness, they say, ha ha. When the fishes answer these questions - which they are happy to do - they also ask why. They are curious things, fish are, and thus they ask, 'Why? Why do you want to know what the water feels like to the fishes?' And we are never quite sure. The fishes press further. 'Do you breathe air?' they ask. The answer is yes. Well then, they say, 'What does the air feel like to you?' And we do not know. We think of air and we think of wind, but that's another thing. Wind is air in action, air on the move, and the fishes know this. Well then, they ask again, 'What does the air feel like?' And we have to think about this. Air feels like air, we say, and the fishes laugh mirthlessly. 'Think!' they say. 'Think,' they say, now gentler. And we think and we guess that air feels like hair, thousands of hairs, swaying ever so slightly in breezes microscopic. The fishes laugh again. 'Do better, think harder,' they say, encouraging us. It feels like language, we say, and they are impressed. 'Keep going,' they say. It feels like blood, we say, and they say, 'No, no, now you're getting colder.' The air is like being wanted, we say, and they nod approvingly. The air is like being pushed and pulled and yanked, punched and slapped and misunderstood and loved, we say, and the fishes sigh and touch our forearm sympathetically.
Ok, now, for the print version, take the last sentences and replace with this:
…The air is like being wanted, we say, and they nod approvingly. The air is like getting older, we say, and they smile their big fish smiles.
Which ending do you like better?
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reactionary would-be blog entry that doesn't fit the blog's makeup anymore:
I prefer the print version, but now i'm reconsidering, chickenning. everybody i've asked so far likes the long-sentence end. It's most probable Eggers revised this story from the print to the on-line to make it BETTER.
i'm comming clean.
something is probably very wrong with my taste. This is consistent with everything. when i tell people i think The Royal Tenenbaums is the best thing that happened to movies, i get eyebrows raised (i almost hear people think 'why? what's with this guy?'); when i say i never really liked metellica after One, i get eyebrows raised higher. same thing when i say the Eraserheads were far better than The Juan De la Cruz Band. I become a blaspheme.
one person said i like music i like for the wrong reasons. much more so with literature. problem is, i tell her, i'm not sure why i like the things i like. and this, she said, may be the problem, for someone like me at least.
(and, to make it clear, i don't know what 'for someone like me' meant, but i'm sure it's not good)
I prefer the print version, but now i'm reconsidering, chickenning. everybody i've asked so far likes the long-sentence end. It's most probable Eggers revised this story from the print to the on-line to make it BETTER.
i'm comming clean.
something is probably very wrong with my taste. This is consistent with everything. when i tell people i think The Royal Tenenbaums is the best thing that happened to movies, i get eyebrows raised (i almost hear people think 'why? what's with this guy?'); when i say i never really liked metellica after One, i get eyebrows raised higher. same thing when i say the Eraserheads were far better than The Juan De la Cruz Band. I become a blaspheme.
one person said i like music i like for the wrong reasons. much more so with literature. problem is, i tell her, i'm not sure why i like the things i like. and this, she said, may be the problem, for someone like me at least.
(and, to make it clear, i don't know what 'for someone like me' meant, but i'm sure it's not good)
you're taking choices too seriously bitch :D link me up (http://zeppelinofburningdreams.blogspot.com) and relax.
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