Mapping and Burning

I am really a fan of compact pieces like Theft. It is exciting for me to be compelled through a closer analysis— like in poetry. I know we can deep read through all stories, but I like to read the pieces that ask for it. This piece asks for it. Theft is a piece that lays out all the information without explaining a bit. It feels like a conversation you’d eavesdrop on (well, I would eavesdrop on… I don’t know if anyone else looks for eavesdropping opportunities…) between two close friends. There are hints of relationship ties…but we never hear the whole story. The story leaves us with the task of putting it all together. I am a fan of that. There are names brought up that the background is never supplied for, there are hints at careers, there is a mysterious letter that the main character decides to tear “the letter into narrow strips and [touch] a lighted match to them in the coal grate.”

On a side note, I’ve recently decided that even though it can be a bit clichĂ© to burn things from people who’ve done you wrong, I am generally a fan of the symbolism. Throwing things away is not nearly as satisfying as burning. I remember learning in chemistry (yay for gen-ed work!) that when anything burns, the chemical compound changes and that thing is physically and chemically something else altogether. That stuffed animal, those dried flowers, that book, that sweater, that bottle of perfume, that letter is no longer that thing. It is now a series of carbons, water, and released heat. (Released heat… great right? It’s released. It’s let go.) But that’s a side note.

So what I had to (chose to) do when I got done reading the story was map it, of sorts. I wrote down each character name and each important object/symbol (like the purse) and made note of the things that were said about that person/thing and tried to pull together a more holistic was of seeing these characters and things. It was pretty sweet. It’s pretty difficult to portray the lists and connections in this kind of format, (I already tried and it doesn’t make any sense) but it was helpful for me. It drew attention to the fact, for example, that the main character’s one interaction with a woman is with the janitress. It drew attention to the fact that to the she tells Bill to, “let [the money] go then…” and after she realizes the purse is gone, to herself she says, “Then let it go.”

So I would assume that a more careful reader probably picked up on these on a first read, but this slowing down, mapping, and unpacking thing worked well for me, and I remembered how much I love stories that evoke this sort of process.

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