ThursdayNext : www.jasperfforde.com
A discussion of all things Thursday !
Wings Over Swindon
Posted by: jon (---.abel.net.uk)
Date: December 30, 2002 01:56PM
<HTML><i>Inspired by a picture of Jasper in full intrepid birdman mode, which I
found </i><a href="http://www.getoutthere.bt.com/editorial/more.cfm?articleID=604">here</a>
<b>Wings over Swindon</b>
The G-force was terrific, pushing Jimmy's head back against the seat; just a little more, he thought, just a little more, and then he'd be in position .... there, pull out now - and the Messerschmidt filled his gunsight as the Hurricane came out of the turn right behind it. Jimmy waited until he could read the markings on the enemy's tail before squeezing the trigger - he knew the vulnerable spot on a Bf109 was just behind the cockpit. Eight Brownings converged precisely on the desired spot, and the German plane blew apart as the tracer ripped into the fuel tank. Jimmy pulled up and away, twisting sharply to avoid anyone who had tried the same trick on him; as he looked around for the rest of the squadron he became aware of a new sound, a cry of rage. Too late, he looked up, just in time to receive a chalk duster smack against his left earhole.
"Bigglesworth!" roared the teacher, his face red with anger. "What did I just ask you?" Jimmy racked his brain furiously ... what had it been? Something about synecdoche, possibly? Or was it litotes? "Erm ... was it about metaphor, Mr. Nickleby?" "Metaphor? Metaphor? We don't do kindergarten stuff like that here, Bigglesworth! I was asking you about the use of sexual imagery in the descriptive prose of D. H. Lawrence, you awful little cretin! Weren't you listening, boy?" "He was probably playing with his joystick, sir," said a voice from the front of the class. The pupils sniggered. "Be quiet, Holt," Mr. Nickleby admonished him. "Well, Bigglesworth? Can you answer the question?" Jimmy struggled to remember. Finally he said, hesitantly, "He used sexual imagery to er, contrast the world of, of the intellect with, um, the world of the body, sir." Mr. Nickleby sighed. "No, Bigglesworth, he did not. Somebody enlighten Mr. Bigglesworth, please." "He used sexual imagery to describe everything, sir!" "Thank-you, Holt. And why was this, do you think, Bigglesworth?" "Er - because he was a pervert, sir?" The class sniggered again. "Silence!" roared the teacher. "Just for once Bigglesworth has got something right. Well done. Now then, for tonight's homework I will set a task that even Bigglesworth will find it difficult to sneak aeroplanes into. I want 1,000 words of magic realism from each of you, making extensive use of Lawrentian sexual imagery, and if you could manage to hand in the work on time, Rowling, I'm sure we'd all be very grateful. Dismissed."
When Jimmy got home, he found his father in a bad mood. "Rotten reviews, Dad?", he asked sympathetically. His father frowned even more. "No, my son," he said; "some of them have been quite cordial, of late. No, my present ill temper is caused entirely by your own self, James." Jimmy's father wrote historical novels set in Victorian England, and it had rather affected his speech patterns. "James, I have been having speech with your tutor Mr. Nickleby, and it pains me to have to relate that he finds very little progress has been made in your education. Your continued obsession with aerial machines pains both him and myself. Can you not see, James, that no-one can hope to be a successful writer when every paragraph he inscribes is liberally endowed with references - some of them very obscure references - to aircraft, and flying scenes are gratuitously introduced to every narrative? Neither critical nor commercial triumph awaits such a writer, James. I have no wish to see a son of mine branded a failure, but should this trend persist I see no future for you as a novelist; you will be sent down from school, and have to become a critic." Jimmy gulped at this awful prospect. It was time, he thought, to tell the truth. "Dad," he said, "I have something to tell you. I appreciate all you and Mum have done for me, but I have to face the fact that I can't live up to the family tradition. Dad - I don't want to be a writer. I want to be - a pilot." His father fell back onto the sofa, his face pale, his mouth working soundlessly. At last he found his voice, and called his wife. "Daphne," he said, his voice choking with emotion, "hear what James has to say. I cannot credit that I heard it right!" Jimmy's Mother swept into the room, her purple ball gown falling around her like waves on a tempestuous ocean. As Jimmy repeated his announcement, she drew herself up to her full height (4 foot 9) and set her mouth in a smile of grim resignation. "You will break my heart," she said. "I shall bear this as I have borne all my sorrows, but this is the most painful yet." Jimmy sighed. "See?" he said, wearily. "That's why I don't want to be a writer. You end up talking stupid the whole time." "But, James," his father protested, "you cannot hope to make a living as a pilot of flying machines! Who would give a five-book deal or a column in a Sunday newspaper to a glorified bus-driver? If you must reject the novelist's calling, at least take up some profession in the artistic sphere, for the sake of the good name of the family!" Jimmy thought about this a moment. "Well," he said at last, "I quite fancy working in film." "Kinematography? I suppose that is quite .. respectable. Many famous authors have worked as screenwriters." "Screenwriter, yeah, could be. Or something behind the camera, anyway." "Only on respectable literary adaptations, of course," his mother put in. "Oh, of course," Jimmy agreed, crossing his fingers behind his back. The way he saw it, all films of the book were respectable. For a given value of 'respectable'.
The Hurricane climbed high into the sky once more, the famous ace Bigglesworth at the controls. But this time it did it in Technicolor and CinemaScope.</HTML>
found </i><a href="http://www.getoutthere.bt.com/editorial/more.cfm?articleID=604">here</a>
<b>Wings over Swindon</b>
The G-force was terrific, pushing Jimmy's head back against the seat; just a little more, he thought, just a little more, and then he'd be in position .... there, pull out now - and the Messerschmidt filled his gunsight as the Hurricane came out of the turn right behind it. Jimmy waited until he could read the markings on the enemy's tail before squeezing the trigger - he knew the vulnerable spot on a Bf109 was just behind the cockpit. Eight Brownings converged precisely on the desired spot, and the German plane blew apart as the tracer ripped into the fuel tank. Jimmy pulled up and away, twisting sharply to avoid anyone who had tried the same trick on him; as he looked around for the rest of the squadron he became aware of a new sound, a cry of rage. Too late, he looked up, just in time to receive a chalk duster smack against his left earhole.
"Bigglesworth!" roared the teacher, his face red with anger. "What did I just ask you?" Jimmy racked his brain furiously ... what had it been? Something about synecdoche, possibly? Or was it litotes? "Erm ... was it about metaphor, Mr. Nickleby?" "Metaphor? Metaphor? We don't do kindergarten stuff like that here, Bigglesworth! I was asking you about the use of sexual imagery in the descriptive prose of D. H. Lawrence, you awful little cretin! Weren't you listening, boy?" "He was probably playing with his joystick, sir," said a voice from the front of the class. The pupils sniggered. "Be quiet, Holt," Mr. Nickleby admonished him. "Well, Bigglesworth? Can you answer the question?" Jimmy struggled to remember. Finally he said, hesitantly, "He used sexual imagery to er, contrast the world of, of the intellect with, um, the world of the body, sir." Mr. Nickleby sighed. "No, Bigglesworth, he did not. Somebody enlighten Mr. Bigglesworth, please." "He used sexual imagery to describe everything, sir!" "Thank-you, Holt. And why was this, do you think, Bigglesworth?" "Er - because he was a pervert, sir?" The class sniggered again. "Silence!" roared the teacher. "Just for once Bigglesworth has got something right. Well done. Now then, for tonight's homework I will set a task that even Bigglesworth will find it difficult to sneak aeroplanes into. I want 1,000 words of magic realism from each of you, making extensive use of Lawrentian sexual imagery, and if you could manage to hand in the work on time, Rowling, I'm sure we'd all be very grateful. Dismissed."
When Jimmy got home, he found his father in a bad mood. "Rotten reviews, Dad?", he asked sympathetically. His father frowned even more. "No, my son," he said; "some of them have been quite cordial, of late. No, my present ill temper is caused entirely by your own self, James." Jimmy's father wrote historical novels set in Victorian England, and it had rather affected his speech patterns. "James, I have been having speech with your tutor Mr. Nickleby, and it pains me to have to relate that he finds very little progress has been made in your education. Your continued obsession with aerial machines pains both him and myself. Can you not see, James, that no-one can hope to be a successful writer when every paragraph he inscribes is liberally endowed with references - some of them very obscure references - to aircraft, and flying scenes are gratuitously introduced to every narrative? Neither critical nor commercial triumph awaits such a writer, James. I have no wish to see a son of mine branded a failure, but should this trend persist I see no future for you as a novelist; you will be sent down from school, and have to become a critic." Jimmy gulped at this awful prospect. It was time, he thought, to tell the truth. "Dad," he said, "I have something to tell you. I appreciate all you and Mum have done for me, but I have to face the fact that I can't live up to the family tradition. Dad - I don't want to be a writer. I want to be - a pilot." His father fell back onto the sofa, his face pale, his mouth working soundlessly. At last he found his voice, and called his wife. "Daphne," he said, his voice choking with emotion, "hear what James has to say. I cannot credit that I heard it right!" Jimmy's Mother swept into the room, her purple ball gown falling around her like waves on a tempestuous ocean. As Jimmy repeated his announcement, she drew herself up to her full height (4 foot 9) and set her mouth in a smile of grim resignation. "You will break my heart," she said. "I shall bear this as I have borne all my sorrows, but this is the most painful yet." Jimmy sighed. "See?" he said, wearily. "That's why I don't want to be a writer. You end up talking stupid the whole time." "But, James," his father protested, "you cannot hope to make a living as a pilot of flying machines! Who would give a five-book deal or a column in a Sunday newspaper to a glorified bus-driver? If you must reject the novelist's calling, at least take up some profession in the artistic sphere, for the sake of the good name of the family!" Jimmy thought about this a moment. "Well," he said at last, "I quite fancy working in film." "Kinematography? I suppose that is quite .. respectable. Many famous authors have worked as screenwriters." "Screenwriter, yeah, could be. Or something behind the camera, anyway." "Only on respectable literary adaptations, of course," his mother put in. "Oh, of course," Jimmy agreed, crossing his fingers behind his back. The way he saw it, all films of the book were respectable. For a given value of 'respectable'.
The Hurricane climbed high into the sky once more, the famous ace Bigglesworth at the controls. But this time it did it in Technicolor and CinemaScope.</HTML>
Re: Wings Over Swindon
Posted by: Sarah H Egginton (---.in-addr.btopenworld.com)
Date: December 30, 2002 04:45PM
<HTML>Cool! Will there be any more of this?</HTML>
Re: Wings Over Swindon
Posted by: Sarah (---.in-addr.btopenworld.com)
Date: December 30, 2002 05:27PM
<HTML>Eeek... didn't mean to be quite so formal! I'm on my dad's computer at the moment (Minsky is having to dictate to me over the phone). It seems to stick my full name in automatically.</HTML>
Re: Wings Over Swindon
Posted by: Sarah B (---.cableinet.co.uk)
Date: December 30, 2002 06:26PM
<HTML>Well, at least it distinguishes between the Sarahs that way!
Very good Jon. Like it muchly.</HTML>
Very good Jon. Like it muchly.</HTML>
Re: Wings Over Swindon
Posted by: Jessica (63.225.179.---)
Date: December 31, 2002 01:54AM
<HTML>hey! I'm only 16, and you don't know me, but I took the time to read everythign you typed up. I like it. Is this a story you have written? Is there more to this than what you've typed? I'm in the middle of a story myself. Its kinda of my old school life with a twist so no one knows it was me. Anyway...I LIKE IT! Post up some more!</HTML>
Re: Wings Over Swindon
Posted by: Rob (---.leeds.ac.uk)
Date: January 03, 2003 03:08PM
<HTML>Top quality Jon. I like that one.</HTML>
Re: Wings Over Swindon
Posted by: Skiffle (---.cache.pol.co.uk)
Date: January 28, 2003 10:34PM
<HTML>Nice work, but more paragraphs please: I kept losing my place</HTML>
Re: Wings Over Swindon
Posted by: Jon (---.proxy.aol.com)
Date: January 28, 2003 11:43PM
<HTML>Um, para shortage noted, but I was trying to keep the thing to a reasonable length for a post ..... what's worse, confusing paras or too much scrolling? (The former, I think, loooking at it critically)
Did you have difficulty attributing the dialogue, and if you did ... does that mean you are a fictional character?</HTML>
Did you have difficulty attributing the dialogue, and if you did ... does that mean you are a fictional character?</HTML>
Re: Wings Over Swindon
Posted by: Sarah (---.vip.uk.com)
Date: January 29, 2003 10:04PM
<HTML>No, I can assure you, Gillian is not fictional. I go and visit her most Wednesdays. Mind you, since I <i>am</i> fictional, at least in my persona of Sarah Goode-Evans, perhaps this could be seen as a problem.
Speaking of which, I haven't just given up on <i>A Slice of Time,</i> but I was rather unwell for a week recently and have been more than usually busy since. I hope to reprise it soon if people are interested.</HTML>
Speaking of which, I haven't just given up on <i>A Slice of Time,</i> but I was rather unwell for a week recently and have been more than usually busy since. I hope to reprise it soon if people are interested.</HTML>
Re: Wings Over Swindon
Posted by: Magda (---.med.umich.edu)
Date: January 30, 2003 03:20PM
<HTML>Well, I, for one, am interested.</HTML>
Re: Wings Over Swindon
Posted by: Sarah (---.vip.uk.com)
Date: January 30, 2003 04:34PM
<HTML>Cool - I'm hoping to be able to get on with it at the weekend, but we are going to see Ooktavia tomorrow (yay!)</HTML>
Sorry, only registered users may post in this forum.