Monday, February 18, 2013

"The Inner War" Analysis (part 2)


Investigating Heartbeats (continued)

For the first part, head on over to:
http://anauthorodyssey.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-inner-war-analysis-part-1.html

We move on from the dream sequence, and eventually to a real-life situation the narrator finds themselves in. With this new context, but the same rapid-heartbeat texture of the sentence, a new understanding is made for the reader about how the illness of PTSD affects a person; not just in expositional evidence of case studies, but by actually implanting the reader into the emotive shoes of the writer.

“On the subway, I hope I can somehow control the whole car I am in. Make everyone behave, stay in their own personal spaces. Be aware of themselves.”

Here, we have an interesting amalgamation of complex construction and compensation for short sentences. “Be aware of themselves” in such an odd-duck fashion that it skirts the boundary of the two styles of construction the author has already showcased for the reader. Moving from there, we go from the nervous-breath construction (shorter, compound sentences) into the characteristic heartbeat momentum (concise, rapid delivery, short sentences), utilizing even contextually sound words such as “Ready,” a single sentence, with two beats. We reach the height of this scene with the narrator saying “I am suffocating.” A poignant end to an intense area, still following the heartbeat paradigm;

“I – am”, “Suf – fo”. “Ca – ting”.

We’re given time and time again this aesthetic blueprint to experience not only the author’s research and knowledge, but obtain a slice of their life. This heartbeat motif follows the reader through each author-involved scene; whether it’s  (“I’m choking her”; “…I would cut to the bone”) or (“Hooray for me”; “Early spring”). However, a contextual shift occurs through the use of this heartbeat device. In all the times this ability was used, the scene wherein it took effect tended to be violent or driven with anxiety, which transferred directly to the reader. By the end of the essay there is a distinct polar shift in tone from anxious and outward, to positive and more inward—yet the heartbeat remains in the text. How does this translate to the reader?

The new shift in tone presents a context not for anxiety, but for a sense of peace—almost meditation. The concluding sentence of the essay reads “”I keep writing. I must. Over and over and over. The same story a million ways”, or, using the view of the heartbeat meter; “I – keep”, “wri – ting”, “I – must”, “o – ver”, “and – o”, “ver – and”, “o – ver”, “the – same”, “sto – ry”, “a – mill”, “ion – ways." 

Author Hallie Ephron states about rhythm and momentum in action scenes “Choose your verbs carefully to convey exactly the kind of action you are trying to evoke in the mind of the reader. Then structure your sentences to reinforce the kind of momentum you're aiming for.” This stands true for this essay, but in a different way than a semantically-linked one. The structure of the author’s sentences conjures not only a feeling of action happening in the story, but an inward emotion that links the reader not necessarily to the scene, but as the character in the scene. You’re provided a microscope-perspective of not only the mind, but also the literal feeling of the author as they experienced it.

This is the fundamental idea of the power behind this essay. It reaches beyond its research and beyond even the scenes the narrator is placed in, and touches the reader to the point of being able to experience the similar heartbeat patterns of the author. As the context changes, so does the general flow of the piece; the hostile encounters such as on the subway and with their partner are read fast and move quickly because of the shortened breath-like sentence structure. However, in the more calm, peaceful, and rehabilitated portion of the piece, the sentence structure is experienced as a slowing of the heart beat because the surrounding pace of the work is also slowed down.

This incorporation of a heartbeat meter in the sentence structure I feel is an attempt by the author to not simply showcase the prevalence of PTSD in society, but to also tap into the emotional center of the reader and make them feel more involved. Throughout, the narrator feels dejected, out of place, awkward, and alone. It is through the heartbeat meter, and not completely the evidence provided that they accomplish this. The entire purpose of their work is to make the voices of those afflicted with this illness heard through at least her voice, and she communicates this not only by her writing, but also by contacting our innermost understanding of the human experience. 

Thursday, February 7, 2013

"The Inner War" Analysis (part 1)

Investigating Heartbeats

In Greek, Rhythm was translated as “any regular recurring motion, symmetry”. This idea has been sought heavily in music and in writing as a way to carry the experience fluidly from one thing to the other. In “Sequelae: The Inner War” by Bindu Wiles, she showcases the issues and trials people who experience Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) have to face as they assimilate back into contemporary society. 
 
The specific paint the author uses to create this picture isn’t necessarily found completely in the semantics of her sentence structure, but also heavily in the syntax; the way their words were arranged.  On page 33 the author describes a dream they’re in and having a PTSD episode “The blade is rusty…I can see 360 degrees…I can hear everything people are saying; my skin vibrates and tingles with awareness”; the sentences become simple and in breaths as the narrator delivers them. However, let’s look deeper into this scene with “I am the wrong kind of Wonder Woman” on the same page. This falls into the same “breath” category as with the others, but if you separate the words within the breath into their syllables, a unique rhythm is crafted;

“I – am” “The – wrong”, “Kind – of”, “Won – der”, “Wo – man”

 This is a heartbeat rhythm which is also seen often in Polyphonic-textured music with lyrics to create these very human beats.

All the scenes where the narrator is directly involved also involve this specific paradigm of sentence structure. There’s a casual build up to this heartbeat rhythm. The build-up is the pivotal mode of this structure as it mimics the biological function of a rising heart rate. On the same page 33, the dream sequence paragraph begins with;

 “The recurring dream I have has been with me for nearly 25 years. In it, I am the owner of a large, square metal shovel with a wooden handle, the kind you find in a horse stable or on the back of an asphalt truck,”

 But her sentence structure evolves into;

“I am fast. Faster than they are.”

As we move farther away from the dream and back to the main researched characters of their essay, the sentences become more formed and elaborate.

What does this do for the reader? Robert Ray Lorant, in his essay “The Rhythm of Prose” writes “Good prose is rhythmical because thought is; and thought is rhythmical because it is always going somewhere, sometimes strolling, sometimes marching, sometimes dancing. Types of thought have their characteristic rhythms, and a resemblance is discernible between these and types of dancing.” It’s this understood rhythm that catches a reader as they’re working through a piece, and it’s what carries them throughout. The structure of Bindu Wiles’s sentences into the heartbeat pattern works so well because it captures the most basic and fundamental of human rhythms. 

This covers most of the dream sequence style of Wiles' sentence structure, but in the next part we'll dissect the structure of the real-world scenario sentences, and see if there is any further manipulation of cadence and rhythm to try and bring about a feeling of anxiety, desperation, or something entirely different.