All of us have grown up reading fairy tales and for those who were around in the 80s, there used to be a one hour show called ‘Fairy Tale Theater’ which brought to life the stories. And so, I wanted to know how the author Carthick, wrote these stories again with a different perspective.
Thank you Carthick for this post and wish you all the best.
Why did you decide to rewrite fairy tales?
I am sure some of you would have seen this anecdote.
Author wrote “The curtains were blue”
What the literature teacher says, “The curtains represent his immense depression and his lack of will to carry on”
What did the author really mean? “That the curtains were fucking blue.”
This anecdote is often narrated to indicate how people tend to over analyze and complicate things. But I see it differently. Authors are just being themselves when they write. At least the genuinely good ones but their words have this kind of effect on the reader. If the author had deliberately painted the curtains blue and mentioned it to project the mood of the character, it would seem so artificial, manipulative and insincere. Instead the authors imagine themselves to be in the situation and try to describe what they see, hear, feel. The immense depression and the character’s lack of will to carry on magically conjures up the blue curtain which the author is compelled to describe as part of the dark dreary imagery which he is painting. Such is the case with me. Continue reading
Samantha could look at Jonathan unobserved from her corner desk. Jonathan was busy on the laptop, preparing the shopping list which goes out on Fridays for the Saturday market. His fingers flying across the keyboard, like a pianist. They were long and beautiful. And soft, she remembered.
Annie, her four year old bumbled into the reception waving a paper which had colorful crayon scribblings. Samantha made her sit on top of the desk.
‘See my dlawing Mommy,’ Annie lisped. Samantha kissed her and cooed about her drawing.
‘Look Jon, my dlawing,’ Annie passed on the paper to Jonathan.
He had been watching them and thinking about how wonderful they looked together. He was tempted to be part of their life. This cottage inn ‘in the sticks’ had given him a lot more than his comfortable city job. But, it was time now to leave, before it becomes too difficult. Continue reading
‘Turn left,’ she said.
He ignored her and went straight ahead.
‘No prooooblem. Take the left after the next signal,’ she said again. ‘Sam. I lived here. I know the route to the theater. Why don’t you listen?’
‘Nah.. this is the right road. We will get there on time,’ he said and revved up the car engine.
‘Here. Put this App on, it will tell you the directions if you don’t want to listen to me. I don’t want to get lost or miss the movie.’
‘We are not lost. And I hate that lady telling me ‘turn left’ ‘turn right’, she doesn’t even say please. Feminists,’ he shook his head.
She sat resigned and observed Sam from the corner of her eye.
This was the fourth time in as many weeks that he did this. And they always missed the movie. Next time, she will drive. She decided.
Follow @Mayuri6 and @twinklingtina, your hosts for #FridayFotofiction, on Twitter.