Critique #167 — Susan Hall
Kevin Andrew Murphy September 1st, 2007
If someone had warned Ahnvieh they were coming, she might have contrived an escape, sought out a place to hide. But no one had thought to spare her, and now it was too late. The voices were just beyond the door, the kind rarely heard in the island fortress of Anjour. Mainland voices whose Kingdom tongues held within their depths iridian colonnades, red-on-white shields, marble flags and liveried servants.
With nowhere to run, Ahnvieh cowered in a corner, the furthest from the eastern lancets through which the sun’s probing light speared, wished fervently for night, a candle’s forgiving glow. If only her father were here . . . or even the castellan. But there was only her.
A woman’s voice presaged the opening of the door, deep, vibrating like a heavy brass bell struck by a plank of elderwood. “May it please you to enter, my Lord?�
The reply matched the man, dark and lofty, “By your Lady’s favour.� And he stepped across the threshold.
Ahnvieh spun away, turned her back to him, tried to grow smaller, hunched her shoulders as if against winter’s chill, wished for a cloak though the summer morn was yet mild. Despite her efforts, there was no chance he could miss her, with only the dark candlebark throne of Anjour flanked by two twenty point stag-antler candelabras otherwise adorning the chamber.
Susan,
I love the imagery, but I got lost about what was happening. I know the whole story isn’t there. Maybe you’ve given us too much?
I would suggest turning some of those long, comma-filled sentences into shorter sentences. Maybe chisel back some of the writerly adornments for clarity?
Anyway, keep up with the narrative. Lot’s of gems in here.
J
I thought the first paragraph excellent. Your writing is solid, and the conflict and imagery immediately made sense to me and set me in place.
Then it began to move too fast and I got confused.
Forex
why does she want night? where is everyone? (have they all fled?)
yet then who is offering entry? why does A turn away? where is she hiding in relationship to the throne? and the last sentence is too complex in that it introduces the concept of him not being able to miss her (that is, it is here that he sees her, surely) with the long description of a throne we have heretofore not known about.
It’s not that you have to answer all these questions, only that I shouldn’t be asking them as I read. Too many concepts are crowding my reading.
Oh, and cut “probing.” “Speared” makes the same point.
But, really, I think this is good stuff - you’re on your way.
Overall, I definitely want to read on. I like the tension that grips me from the first sentence. I sympathize with A’s peril and desire to get away. The conflict is immediate, and many of the images linger, promising me a nifty read.
But a few things tripped me up enough to make what should have been a smooth read into a slow, bumpy one. Not gigantic bumps–and I think the story could sell just fine as is–but because I see so much talent here, and because we’re all about polishing openings as much as possible, let me bring up some points, see what you think.
. . .whose Kingdom tongues held within their depths iridian colonnades, red-on-white shields, marble flags and liveried servants.
This metaphor tripped me up because even if I read ‘tongues’ as a synecdoche for ‘language’ I still am puzzled how these objects can be ‘held’ in the ‘depths’ of a language. Did the sound of the spoken words evoke these images? Anyway, I had to stop reading to puzzle out what I thought meant by the metaphor, and ought not to have to do that so early in. Even though I loved the idea when it finally did click.
With nowhere to run, Ahnvieh cowered in a corner, the furthest from the eastern lancets
Farther is distance, further is thought or degree. (”And furthermore, ladies and gentleman…” “Don’t go any farther!” )
through which the sun’s probing light speared, wished fervently for night, a candle’s forgiving glow. If only her father were here . . . or even the castellan. But there was only her.
speared/probing is a tad redundant. “through which the sun’s light speared” might be more elegant?
Did she wish for ‘night’ or for ‘darkness’?
‘But there was only her’ ‘was’ here is a linking verb, at least the way it reads to me. (Linking verbs mean that the subject and object are interchangeable.) So it ought to be ‘There was only she.’ Because one can also say ‘Only she was there.’
A woman’s voice presaged the opening of the door, deep, vibrating like a heavy brass bell struck by a plank of elderwood.
‘presaged’ as in predicted the opening of the door? Or do you mean preceded? Predicted makes sense–the sound of the voice outside predicts that the door will be opened–but it seems kind of a heavy verb for so simple an action, and that makes the pacing just a tad ponderous. Do you want that effect? Also, the way the sentence is worded, at first I thought the door was vibrating, not the voice, just because of the heavy emphasis of ‘presaged’ making the opening of the door the focus of the sentence. [I know, I know, I did warn you I was going to be super picky!*g*]
Despite her efforts, there was no chance he could miss her, with only the dark candlebark throne of Anjour flanked by two twenty point stag-antler candelabras otherwise adorning the chamber.
First, do you want the two echoes of ‘candle’ in this sentence–when we already have ‘candle’ above, in the bit about night?
Second, the sense of it escaped me until I’d reread it closely several times. It seemed at first that he wasn’t going to ‘miss’ her ‘with’ the throne, in other words he was going to whack her with it. But I think you mean that the room was empty of all but this throne (I love the idea of candlebark) and the candelabra* stuck on sticks, or on the wall, on either side of the throne in order to flank it.
*candelabra is the plural–the singular is candelabrum
Well, enough of that, I hope at least some of it is marginally helpful. But I do want to say again that I find the story quite intriguing.
Sherwood already pointed out all the things I noticed. Most specifically, I got hung up on “Mainland voices whose Kingdom tongues held within their depths iridian colonnades, red-on-white shields, marble flags and liveried servants.” After re-reading it, I understood what you meant, but I was still thinking, “wow, those are deep tongues, to be able to hold all that!” Re-phrasing this might make the idea clearer on the first read-through.
I also needed to re-read the sentence “A woman’s voice presaged the opening of the door, deep, vibrating like a heavy brass bell struck by a plank of elderwood.” I was confused about whether you meant that the woman’s voice was a like a heavy brass bell, or that opening the door caused a deep vibration that sounded like a heavy brass bell, or whatever. I also was a bit confused about how a brass bell would sound compared to, say, a bonze bell or how hitting it with elderwood would sounds different to hitting it with oak wood…or why someone would hit a bell with a plank instead of something specifically used for ringing bells. As in, I figured that you included those descriptions because the difference is important, but I can’t understand what that difference is. If it isn’t important, then you might say, “like a heavy bell struck by wood” or something like that so I know which descriptions are truly important to understand right now.
Also, “The reply matched the man, dark and lofty.” If she hasn’t seen him yet, how can she know that he is dark and lofty like his voice? It wasn’t initially clear to me that Ahnvieh saw the fellow before turning away because I was last picturing her cowering in the corner–which, in my mind, means facing the walls, not the door.
Finally, “Despite her efforts, there was no chance he could miss her, with only the dark candlebark throne of Anjour flanked by two twenty point stag-antler candelabras otherwise adorning the chamber.” I wasn’t picturing Ahnvieh in a throne room, so this was a surprise that forced me to revise my mental image of her hiding in a bedroom. Perhaps you could work this information in sooner? Also, the phrasing made it difficult for me to understand what you meant on the first re-through.
Overall, I liked the writing. I’m sure that you can easily tweak these sentences so that they flow more smoothly. Hope this helped.
Wow. Outstanding critiques!. I’ve fixed most of the identified problems. Amazing there could be so many in 13 lines! A few I’m still fixating on, trying the make the imagery cleaner and tighter.
Thanks again!
Susan
OK - I wen’t berserk and updated it. I removed her from the Island throne room as it is not important where she is, because she doesn’t stay there long enough to bother going overboard with setting. (Plus I couldn’t think what to call a Duke’s throne to contrast it with the mainland King’s throne, which she is to see shortly.)
—————————————————–
Updated version:
If someone had warned Ahnvieh they were coming, she might have contrived an escape, sought out a place to hide. But no one had thought to spare her, and now it was too late. The voices were just beyond the door, the kind rarely heard in the island fortress of Anjour. Mainland voices whose Kingdom tongues evoked thrones and colonnades, spears angled forward in salute between grounded shields.
With nowhere to run, Ahnvieh cowered in a corner of the empty chamber, the farthest from the eastern lancets through which the sun’s light speared. If only it were night. The soft glow from the twenty point stag-antler candelabras on the walls flanking her would have been more forgiving, might offer some chance of remaining undetected. If only the Duke, her father, were here . . . or even the castellan. If only . . .
A woman’s voice – the Duke’s new mistress - presaged the opening of the door, deep, vibrating contralto like a heavy bell struck by wood. “May it please you to enter, my Lord?�
“By your Lady’s favour.� Dark and lofty, the reply matched the man who stepped across the threshold. His ebon helm pressed hard over hair the black of char washed by rain, his matching cloak flowed around him like night.
I’m not sure on this one. In a cynical moment I might point out that everyone owns a thesaurus, but perhaps it’s time to put it down. I feel like the words got in the way, so I couldn’t really get into the story. Sorry.
Hi Susan.
I wanted to post something, since I’ve critiqued everyone else’s submissions and not yours - I just haven’t been able to think of anything useful to say other than ‘I quite liked it’. I still haven’t :p. Here are some thoughts on individual lines:
‘… presaged the opening of the door, deep, vibrating contralto like a heavy bell…’ - in both versions, I think you need an ‘a’ before ‘deep’ (… presaged the opening of the door, a deep, vibrating contralto). Incidentally, I like the new inclusion of ‘contralto’.
‘The soft glow from the twenty point stag-antler candelabras on the walls flanking her would have been more forgiving, might offer some chance of remaining undetected’ - ‘might offer’ should be ‘might have offered’ if you’re going to structure the sentence this way. That said, your first clause is very long - cut some needless details (twenty point or stag-antler [and if you're going to hyphenate stag-antler, make it twenty-point], for example. ‘flanking her’ could also be cut).
‘His ebon helm pressed hard over hair the black of char washed by rain’ - it took me about 8 goes to read this sentence properly. It’s the black of char bit, it’s confusing. My suggestion is ‘hair coloured the back of rainwashed char’, which isn’t brilliant, but at least I know what on earth is going on, lol.
A note on ellipses: this… is an ellipsis. Three dots in succession, and then a space. This . . . is made up. I personally don’t really mind, but an editor might.
Also, can I ask how Ahnvieh’s name is actually pronounced? At first I was reading it ‘A-neev’, but when I pull it apart it seems to go ‘An-vee-ah’. Just curious.
On the whole, I preferred the first version - I miss the iridian colonnades and liveried servants. More than that I can’t give you I’m afraid, but I hope this helped :).
I think Ivy’s said what I’ve been trying to put my finger on since I first read this - ‘I feel like all the words got in the way’.
I think the first version has more immediacy; the second starts feeling too formal.
I also think: slow down. Draw it open a bit. Let us feel her, where she is, what she is seeing or touching, how she is crouching, what she hears before the voices speak and what is _ I assume - a betrayal happening, and so on. No need to sprint through this. The essential emotional conflict is strong enough to take your time with.
I still find the beginning intriguing, though I think I preferred the first version. It seemed less labored, even though the small things tripped me up.
In this version, we seem to proceed in fits and starts–one difficult sentence at a time to be figured out, without some of the grace of the first. By the time I got to ‘ebon helm’ (fantasy stories tend to be full of ‘ebon’ and ‘raven’ hair, helms, thrones, and clothes) and hair like ‘char washed by rain’ (I have to stop and figure out that char is the black ash left over after a fire; rain-washed it would be gritty and salt-and-pepper smeared–a cool image, but takes way too long for describing hair) I’m starting to lose my sense of involvement. The prose keeps poking me in the eye, keeping me away from the story.
The second version was easier to read than the first, but still rather labored and over-written. Hair the color of char washed by rain–does that mean the color of sodden ash? A sort of dirty gray? Wouldn’t it be easier just to say that? And we don’t need to know that the staghorn candelabra have twenty points–that causes me to pause and try to imagine all twenty points. It’s an unnecessary and distracting detail.
The situation you’ve set up has intrinsic tension, but you’re letting language and imagery get in the way of clarity and smoothness.
The first clause of the first sentence bothers me.
The first time I read that, I wasn’t sure if “they” referred back to “someone.” Plus, that’s two ambiguities in one sentence. And it also needs to be more active. So how about:
If Ahnvieh had known they were coming, she might have…
All in all, this has promise; just let the story unfold naturally at a comfortable pace, and resist the urge to over-decorate.
Hmmm…. I’ve put some comments in the text and some more below
If someone had warned Ahnvieh they were coming, she might have contrived an escape, sought out a place to hide.
But no one had thought to spare her, and now it was too late.
[this line seems redundant - the 'if' tells us it was too late]
The voices were just beyond the door, the kind rarely heard in the island fortress of Anjour. Mainland voices whose Kingdom tongues held within their depths iridian colonnades, red-on-white shields, marble flags and liveried servants.
[for me, there are rather too many detailed images crammed into an accent here. It becomes too obviously a writing device for world building.]
With nowhere to run, Ahnvieh cowered in a corner, the furthest from the eastern lancets through which the sun’s probing light speared, [and] wished fervently for night, a candle’s forgiving glow.
[awkward sentence, IMOHO]
If only her father were here . . . or even the castellan. But there was only her.
A woman’s voice presaged the opening of the door, deep, vibrating like a heavy brass bell struck by a plank of elderwood. “May it please you to enter, my Lord?�
['presaged' feels like too obviously a $10 word]
[I can't 'feel' a character who knows what type of wood a bell is struck with from the tone of the bell...]
The reply matched the man, dark and lofty, “By your Lady’s favour.� And he stepped across the threshold.
Ahnvieh spun away, turned her back to him, tried to grow smaller, hunched her shoulders as if against winter’s chill, wished for a cloak though the summer morn was yet mild.
[the weather references leave me cold ... like a winter's chill
]
Despite her efforts, there was no chance he could miss her, with only the dark candlebark throne of Anjour flanked by two twenty point stag-antler candelabras otherwise adorning the chamber.
[For me this feels a little generic - I get too much direct world-building and too little that feels truely unique. The question I’m left with (why does she fear the newcomer?) isn’t strong enough & the MC feels rather limp.
Lots of good stuff - I’ve focused on what I thought were the weaknesses.