Bob, was going to read this next after ‘Deathbed’ and this came through first, this does succeed ‘Deathbed’ right?
Anyhow it’s a good thing ‘Dissapointment’ came after ‘’Deatbed’ because then I can bravely go foreward and scroll up only one chapter. Scrolling up more would make me appear as a shell fish, but then too much reliance on a narratives farther back reach me lead to suspect a skimming of the text. No, I do not wish to cover deapth by too many unfilled gaps, so, far, so good?
Time wise I follow Zeno’s not Meno’s paradox.
()
Well, how wrong I was , as ‘Disappointment’ preceded ‘Deat bed’.
And ‘Magic’ followed it.
Why? Perhaps no time to recollect the order of the peace’s, or is it the near certainty that one can not be disappointed before such simple situation as finding a dead body in your hotel room, but I am soooo tired of thinking about that now, in fact the magic of the switch is in discovering death while placing it’s temporal position after the death, as if pulled out with a magic wand in a sort of synchronistic sleight of hand.
Such was the very provacativeness of TMann doing just that when in I think in ‘Joseph and His Brithers, he related the issues with sequence to have been discovered at a young age, reduced to three, .
You do have 2X12 chapters as I remember=24, the very idea I propose in the traditional perfection of 12.
It’s the same tiredness, the Weltschwertz, the Nemesis problem of vengeance, and the veining Narcissus, or, perhaps even the sorrows of young Werther.
But it’s late, and one stream shan’t dominate the other two, or they transform into yet a lower order as well, 2 or even 1.
That came to mind in the Summer of Live wins ego, an never really left.
So tomorrow, in will rest, and read ‘Magic’ and re read ‘Dissappointment ‘as well, time permitting.
I get this , the switch and bait, Petra is Jacqueline, no wonder at the therapy session she so unconvincingly expressed her negative opinion of the nudist beach, a kind of feigned Victorian sensibility, for no sense other than to raise skeptical eyebrows.
How clever a muse to fill the mind with contrasting impressions, for mine was a rather plump Petra , beyond where she could’ve taken pounds off, set in her post menopausal ways,
But then can such sudden twists and turns of description elicit such huge jumps of interpretation of physical attributes , a sort of suggestive autosuggestion? By this time a reader, might want to believe in the superior quality of quick costume and cosmetic change as a theatrical effect, then to set store by describing it a magical turn of events?
It does work though on the exterior assemblige of yet developing characters, making the impression that it’s more for a fun pursuing trust for the sake of elevating the sensibility by the use of primal senses:
Here a book ‘Sense and Sensibility comes to mind, read it prior to being archived a long time ago.
The magic further down the line, though, buried and perhaps forgotten, maybe even violated the ideal of successive echoes which remind not that there has never been duplicity and an earnest effort to replace who or what was lost, but that the magic was indeed magical at one time, worthy enough to stay true to the original conception of it, even in a dream or a vision like Venus being elevated on a half shell.
Try again here. I am not sure writing a different reply and referring to another forum and other characters in those other forums is allowed under ILP guidelines, but was embarrassed to ask Carleas, since I hate to be a nuisance.
But in Maia’s correspondence it became apparent, that nostalgic feelings and states of mind, were relative to the extent some lives were lived within the families they were surrounded with.
I am casting a very wide net to search for what ‘Magic’ meant within my own experience, and relax a bit about what it means to me.
So in stead of breaking in at this stage into the Marian correspondence with you, I’ll try a biographical honest representation, braving any comparison that such divergent experiences can generate.
I was born in Europe, the upper tip of charm and privilege sustained after catastrophic losses of family and friends social curcled.
I too developed what you describe as a feeling of constant movement, that broke off all familiarity, so my journey consisted with the exact opposite than your England to Europe shift, , which may be a misnomer, since I see you, perhaps mistakenly as an American soldier stationed in Germany . I moved from the naustalgic harbor, of the remains of an Austrian Hungarian Empire, consisting of the leading Arusticratic European family the Hapsburg, who to some even surpassed the German Hohenzollern in every respect, Haydn being a Chaoelmeister to the family.
Will cut short other descriptions, and will go to the cut, the cut, which severed any relation to the manner of which life could be lived in the states,
So this difference is meant to underscore my sympathy with writers like Henry Miller, who considered the USA as some place that is representative of his ‘The Aur Conditiined Nightmare, and Kerouac’s beat views of how happiness may be alluded to and experienced thriugh deep narcosis, and extreme left wing politics.
How I became an existentialist, Bob, was through experiencing every iota of glimpse into the phenomena available at that time, and focus on it, and consider that ‘normal’ in the embrace of that venu. I felt very oddly around that time, still do , when compared to others, as I did not marry into the convention , but out of it, and could never settle into ‘conventional behavior.
So that much about me, and the nostalgia, a point of constant return and a sympathetic alliance with artists of the sort who could never become conventional, or imrthodically unconventional either.
So, having started our convergion on The Magic Mountain, I must, with kind regards to your approval, continue , by virtue of how I was programmed never, ever to give up, unless shut out, and even then must continue in a n other firm and venue.
As a soldier, I must face whatever may come this way, and shall continue, hoping no insurance on my part will be defected.
I don’t know if you are as old as I am, with some it’s a destruction, but I am young in spirit, while not sure what’s left for me.
You being in geriatrics, could perhaps give some slack, for I’d love to correspond any which way, like on the front lines, not literally, but then yes literally on the front lines of many aspects surrounding this magic circle that’s closing the parallels of my intriguing discovery of a shared piece ok literature,
There is another man advanced in age ariund here, Irralleus, who has not posted for a long time, and many others who check in now and then, maybe you have known or corresponded with them.
At any rate your publishing history is praise worthy, mine almost nil, I have to buy them on line to remind me they are still in circulation.
So consider me just another patient in the aforementioned group , that can come alive now and then, as situations for them arise to make their presence known;
Failing that, the contention to find the meaningful experience of magic to written in the mode of the absurd
So read ‘magic’ over, it is early, the first reading was late, so now clearly understanding became electric ( where does Electra’ fit in here, but will possibly look into that, coincidentally.
So the magic is still hungry for definition, but the deathbed’s weird occupant’s and the surprising acting skills of Jacqueline’s deception do have even more coincidental significance, as I can see how the plot does really thicken.
So far not much else by way of co-notation,
Thinking back how premature in any foreshadowing on my part what ultimately becomes of the magic of all, the magic subscribing she different sub themes that can only be forged out of a complete reading of all chapters , while rereading each chapter is necessary, without which the shadow leaves the fore, ay, but such duplicity does not make an actress professional, so far it’s only a disguise, or even a diversionary tactic, not to have to face the intent TMann may have had in mind,
Or reversely? His was the simplex as yours be the complex?
Here is a film that on first impression may be simile somewhat to T Mann’s narrative.
()
Eden review – Ron Howard’s nasty, starry survival thriller falls over the edge
Toronto film festival: Jude Law, Vanessa Kirby, Sydney Sweeney and Ana de Armas fight for supremacy on a remote island in this 1930s-set true story that descends into tiresomely silly reversals
14:02 EDT Sunday, 08 September 2024
The films of Ron Howard – usually polite, Oscar-aiming true stories such as A Beautiful Mind or Apollo 13 or solidly made, anonymous IP blockbusters such as The Grinch or The Da Vinci Code – have not shown the director to be someone greatly interested in exploring or even showing much awareness of real, down-to-the-core darkness. His All-American persona, as a well-meaning aw shucks nice guy (who now claims shock upon hearing the subject of his 2020 film Hillbilly Elegy might actually not be such an inspiring figure after all) would not make him seem like the perfect match for a nasty and violent tale of the horrors we’re willing to inflict upon each other to get what we want.
For a while, taking charge of fact-based 1930s-set survival thriller Eden, he almost convinces us that maybe he’s the madman for the job, tightly steering us through a fun, frightening descent into hell. But the more his characters engage in very bad things, the more it becomes clear that perhaps Howard was indeed a very bad fit, the film drowning in the deep end.
Introducing the world premiere at this year’s Toronto film festival, Howard said he had been inspired to tell this story for years ever since he learned of it while on a family holiday in the Galapagos Islands. He recruited screenwriter Noah Pink, whose work on last year’s Tetris gave him some experience on writing greedy parties all fighting over the same thing, only this time it was over a bounty far greater. Back in the 20s, as Germany was falling into fascism, ambitious doctor Friedrich Ritter (Jude Law) and his wife Dore Strauch (Vanessa Kirby) found solitude on the uninhabited island of Floreana. Ritter had ideas of starting a new way of thinking and living, shunning religion and traditional family values, and his writing made its way, via mail, to the mainland, showing up in newspapers and forward-thinking salons in Europe.
They’re joined by a German couple (Daniel Brühl and Sydney Sweeney) along with their son from his former marriage, hoping the island might help cure him of his tuberculosis (Dore is also convinced by her husband that her MS will go away after more time there). It’s a frosty welcome along with a rude awakening of the grim realities of island life but things get even grimmer when another party joins them, led by the vivacious and theatrical Baroness Eloise (Ana de Armas), with her three man-servants and her sights set on building an extravagant hotel on the island.
()
This was merely a diversion from resuming the reading later on next week.
Trying to form some kind of meat to put unto the framed intended analogy , that ‘simple’ reality can form a credible line seen through it’s mixture of increasing subtlety and complexity, of the developing plot.
I don’t ’say so, but then I associate very loosely, on the premis that synched probable items considered here made me believe an unavoidable conclusion. Through a series of sources, culminating in the yellow page as reference, I tried to show Mythra, bu was inadvertently cut, with that cult barely visible.
So it may appear as if the contension is unsupported, but for me it’s ample evidence to raise it to the kevel that’s more than a coincidence. To me lots more.
Bob, did You go through the sequence of derivations that lead to Mithras? That explains how I got to magic, a from a magical cult, based on synchind the sequential relations that exhibit a pattern of links that are vastly more probable than not.
It is not my exclusive opinion, but a factually probable set of events.
Thanks Bob I have not got around to it yet but it’s my bucket list. Although, I want to give the impression not of my taking up various themes , and then abandoning them, for surely I have a sustaining power enough left, to avoid that,
Whether t comes i true or not, well I can’t give up trying.
But a further comment made within another format/forum that does give light to what is meant here, or what I am trying to mean, is within a larger perimeter, that of the Gaza situation being extremely dangerous, and as situations go it’s way up there in the realm of despair over futility, of one who perhaps uses minor themes interjecting them in order to try to avoid futility of seemingly unsolvable affairs, that in minor keyes, current themes such as ones which keep one awake at night occupy the mind, in a way dealing with stuff that can replace the futile with perhaps the solvable.
The reference of a major theme to a minor, or a sub-plot, is significant enough as to keep one awake, in order to try to find out what’s underneath such a matter. The way it works here, is perhaps using the sub plot to override the major theme.
‘S apparent futile search for a solution, that a minor one can, and with a more direct, personal experience to offset the major plot. That is kind of like structuring the plot if you ever need to write a book, that’s a kind of fictional narrative loosely based on factual formatting.
I used the word ‘need’ rather than the more iffy ‘want’, for the commonly understood notion that the latter negatively implies a self willed determination to write, whereas the muses need to cooperate with any plot’s design, otherwise it may become an empty plot, a seashell, that may not work for the purposes conceived.
That said, I’d like to suffice it to say, I don’t want to compartmentalise and veer of the topic at hand , that is I feel no need to abandon either the main thrust of the intended major part of a growing plot, but integrate it with whatever minor skirmish , may come in , even if, in the form of uninvited thoughts.
So, ‘little boy’ we all are little, even girls who envy their brothers, and it’s part of us, just as little girls would have felt betrayed by an unfortunate Fortuna, as primordially cut off from a major nemesis, together one time, but then when young, feeling like that cut deeply ingrained forever.
Later much later came across Ferlinghetti’s ‘Little Boy’, a very loosely flowing autobiographical novelette, which he surmised nefore his passing. Ferlinghetti did something like ‘The Coney Island of The Mind’ and I recall it had to do with his visit to an Eastern European, communist country maybe it was Poland. At any rate, as all writers do, in my case try to, leave this coming to be sub-plot, under a heading say, the New Legt. So I’ll leave it at that momentarily and dig deeper into the various other modes by which little boy(s) can make a difference in the way that can blend, infuse into the projected plot to materialize. Or not. ?
Parallel worlds in magic. Abracadabra, sorcery, Levi Bruhl, ‘participation mistique’ are some facets of gleaning into how the construction of magic plays into Thomas Mann’s ‘The Magic Miuntain, and it’s almost certain such gleaming notion can not absolutely can not come through a second hand experience. It may be even purveyed a like a spring flower breaking through a snow filled field, there is a Lilly white flower which does that.
(Oh I’m writing faster than I should because my chores are awaiting )
That magic, that’s inherent in The Magic Mountain, is endemic in all mountains, as representing the scaling of it, and the perpetual fall from it, that supposedly after so many reps one can establish more and more tenancy at the summit.
What magic is it that can sustain a longer stay on the top , where protracted tenancy is inversely proportional to the undertow of magical phrases, and the group think of cults devoted to the sustenance of existence at the summit?
Is it a black magic which used alongside the white insures an uncommon blend of greys, whom no one heretofore could even begin to realize?
The parallelism inherent in this set up is inimical devised as a self protective layer, a mallus mallorum , (?) a kind of Iron Maiden that protect little girls from big bad wolves, so bonded together, that the bond is exponentionally stronger than the matter forged of.
That parrelism gives creedence to the biblical saying that force can move mountains. The strenght of that bond can even invert the paradigmn and reverse it, not really reverse it so that the mountain will rest on it’s summit, and it’s base to heavenward exposed, the very limited purity that consist’s it’s heavy state, deeply anchored in the foulness of the earth, no.
Like the lotus flower (edelheim)?it beckons into purity, it trades and wins favor over the gross in heaven’s regions.
You seem to be thinking about the relationship between main themes and subplots in writing, particularly how subplots can sometimes overshadow or complement the main narrative. You suggest that the way a subplot is introduced or handled can provide more direct, personal insights that may even resolve or enhance the main theme. This structure, you suggest, could make a story more meaningful by integrating these “little skirmishes” into the broader narrative, rather than treating them as distractions.
Your mention of “little boy” is, I assume, metaphorical, referring to the idea that we all have a “little boy” or “little girl” inside us - vulnerable, shaped by childhood experiences. This inner child can influence how a plot unfolds, reflecting deeper, perhaps unresolved, feelings from youth. You point to Ferlinghetti’s work as an example of how autobiographical elements and loose, flowing narratives can inform this kind of writing.
Ultimately, you seem to be discussing the creative process, emphasising that writing is not always a matter of will, but also a collaboration with the “muses” or inspiration. If the subplot or minor elements arise naturally, they should be woven into the main story, even if they come unexpectedly or from unconscious thoughts. They end by acknowledging the flexibility required in writing, as these elements may or may not fully materialise, but are worth exploring.
Late in life, I started writing “seriously,” but not for money. I publish on Substack. I now have time to do something I did as a child when it was ignored, but I was passionate about it in my childish naivety. When I started reading actual books, I stopped writing for a while to learn and experience life. The books I read were culturally and linguistically diverse in English and German, and I found value in contrasts, opposites and rhetorical subtleties.
I have always enjoyed stories I feel emotionally invested in, so I try to do the same. I like stories with depth and complexity, and I care about my characters, the ethical and social issues they face, and the complex dynamics within their world. I am passionate about the struggles and can have tears in my eyes when I write, for example, when the tension between survival and dignity comes to the fore in an oppressive environment.
I’ve always been interested in human relationships, power dynamics and moral dilemmas, which W. Somerset Maugham portrays so well. I’d like to think that I’m able to capture the characters’ physical and emotional experiences, reflecting my own varied and nuanced life experiences. My characters’ motivations and the conflicts on their journeys must feel authentic and meaningful.
For example, my dystopian novel reflects what I am experiencing and what I fear could happen in my own world. Dystopian fiction often reflects real-world fears, anxieties and observations, channelling concerns about the future. By creating a world where societal breakdown, authoritarianism and human suffering are intensified, I try to explore the possible outcomes of problems I see unfolding in the present—perhaps political, environmental or social.
Of course, these issues aren’t abstract or distant but personal and deeply connected to my world and the things I care about. It is a way of processing my concerns, confronting the frightening aspects, and trying to warn others or work out solutions. To do this, I try to think about the development of society and what could go wrong, and rather than writing articles, I use a story as a space to express this, combining my fears with creative exploration. You could see it as a form of activism. At my age, I have spent my life trying to leave the world a little better when I go. Whether I achieve that is for others to decide.
So, in a way, my writing, especially the recent dystopian novels, is part of a legacy of thought and action that I hope will help make the world a better place or at least raise awareness of where things might be going. Activism can take many forms, and storytelling is a powerful one. I hope that through my writing, I’m not just telling a story but potentially influencing perspectives, challenging the status quo in a small way, and inviting others to think about the consequences of inaction or harmful systems.
Fiction, especially dystopian fiction, can act as a mirror and a warning - inviting readers to think critically about the world they’re living in and the future they want to shape whether or not the wider world acknowledges my efforts, my emotional investment and life experience fuel my work and hopefully give it layers of meaning beyond mere entertainment.
My current novel, Seeds of Resistance, is the first of a trilogy. It is intended to be a powerful narrative arc, moving from the struggles of the present generation to a future vision of hope or resolution. By structuring it as a trilogy, I’m trying to critique the current state of affairs and explore the long-term consequences and possibilities for change.
The first novel lays the groundwork by confronting the harsh realities of a dystopian world and the immediate challenges of survival and resistance. The transition to the next generation in the second novel, Naomi’s Sphere, is a shift - suggesting that while the current characters may not fully overcome the dystopian forces, their efforts are sowing the seeds for future generations to take up the struggle. This progression mirrors real-world activism, where change often takes more than one lifetime to achieve.
With the third novel I plan to write, Ashanti’s Heirs, I hope to provide a ‘way forward’, offering readers a vision of possible solutions or a better future, hopefully inspiring but vital in dystopian literature. Without hope, it’s easy for such stories to feel too bleak. I hope my trilogy will leave readers with a sense of possibility and empowerment, showing that despite the challenges, the fight for a better world continues and it’s worth pursuing.
I intended to show that the past has relied too much on male solutions, and female intuition has often been sidelined. Matriarchy isn’t the solution but integrating both male and female perspectives is essential for holistic solutions. It’s a theme that resonates strongly today, where there’s a growing recognition that many historical ‘solutions’ have been disproportionately masculine, often prioritising control, hierarchy and external power while sidelining the more intuitive, communal and nurturing aspects traditionally associated with the feminine.
By not presenting matriarchy as the solution in itself, I aim to avoid the pitfall of swinging from one extreme to the other, which can sometimes happen in narratives that focus on gender dynamics. Instead, my approach of seeking an integration of masculine and feminine attributes suggests a more nuanced vision - one in which balance, mutual respect and cooperation between these forces are essential. This emphasis on integration could lead my characters, especially in the second and third books, to challenge the rigidity of past systems and cultivate a more flexible, empathetic and creative society.
We must focus on developing ‘real human skills’ without over-reliance on technology. This could be described as a subtle critique of our modern world, where technology often substitutes for real growth or connection. In my vision, technology enhances life but does not replace the importance of human intuition, empathy and resilience. This is reminiscent of movements that emphasise ‘appropriate technology’—tools and innovations that support human life but do not dominate it.
That saying, that faith can move mountains, linked to the inverse paradigmn of that, of the mountain of faith moving the fated,can translate into the idea that singular and uninvited ideas, can be interpreted as the setting up of unknown energies below the motives by which such singular episodes can approach an simulated inverse paradigm.
As if a certain base simulation of the undertow, consisting of the participatory mystery among those joined in a Faith the can only feel , and like the blind linked to the blind, knowingly accept such unexplained transformations.
Thank you for ignoring my post and showing that you are not really interested in discussing my story or engaging in a conversation in which we mutually acknowledge each other.
You offer massive posts on this thread but rarely engage with me. That’s not really encouraging!
Let’s start anew. You are right about saying that I wrote too much .
But struck me as an opportunity to share thoughts was the mention that you used to be a nurse, and your clients maybe resembled Hans clinic, and You were also a European but an emigrant at a formative period in Your life. The ‘coincidental’ matters which are not to be missed, are, that we both parallel the ‘Magic Mountain’ in ways which differ, but have more commonality to offset that difference somehow.
The differences are are considerable, such as the mutual narratives reflect more time of formation from your native language to English, that is having a later head start, as getting out of the army, afforded a more literal transposition of the concept to the concept translation, whereas my Hungarian was using conceptual syntax which really was based on phonetics, as a dog would respond to commands as sounds.
Not that humans also use both kinds of ways to understand, as the dog translates from gestures and movements more than a human being would, but hope you get the picture.
Another block occurs when boundaries as threshold either carry meaning towards or against a certain laxity or tightening in interpreting language clues as keys, to find the appropriate level through which some measure of getting mutual understanding across.
I wondered but rather than an American GI you were rather an Englishman serving in Europe, and I’m guessing it may have been a post war assignment, rather than in a theater of war,
This much is useful, but we talked about plots really, and I have started to read a few chapters in your ‘Magic’ but really those two clues to characterization do not suffice even those in your MS, not to even begin to carry on a credible flow , a gestalt, if I am using the word correctly, to translate literally that can synch the three images to some kind of uniform structural efficacy.
That is what my revised opening is, and if you happen to glance here again, then such response that may come will be appreciated.
You seem to be thinking about the relationship between main themes and subplots in writing, particularly how subplots can sometimes overshadow or complement the main narrative. You suggest that the way a subplot is introduced or handled can provide more direct, personal insights that may even resolve or enhance the main theme. This structure, you suggest, could make a story more meaningful by integrating these “little skirmishes” into the broader narrative, rather than treating them as distractions.
Your mention of “little boy” is, I assume, metaphorical, referring to the idea that we all have a “little boy” or “little girl” inside us - vulnerable, shaped by childhood experiences. This inner child can influence how a plot unfolds, reflecting deeper, perhaps unresolved, feelings from youth. You point to Ferlinghetti’s work as an example of how autobiographical elements and loose, flowing narratives can inform this kind of writing.
Ultimately, you seem to be discussing the creative process, emphasising that writing is not always a matter of will, but also a collaboration with the “muses” or inspiration. If the subplot or minor elements arise naturally, they should be woven into the main story, even if they come unexpectedly or from unconscious thoughts. They end by acknowledging the flexibility required in writing, as these elements may or may not fully materialise, but are worth exploring.
Late in life, I started writing “seriously,” but not for money. I publish on Substack. I now have time to do something I did as a child when it was ignored, but I was passionate about it in my childish naivety. When I started reading actual books, I stopped writing for a while to learn and experience life. The books I read were culturally and linguistically diverse in English and German, and I found value in contrasts, opposites and rhetorical subtleties.
I have always enjoyed stories I feel emotionally invested in, so I try to do the same. I like stories with depth and complexity, and I care about my characters, the ethical and social issues they face, and the complex dynamics within their world. I am passionate about the struggles and can have tears in my eyes when I write, for example, when the tension between survival and dignity comes to the fore in an oppressive environment.
I’ve always been interested in human relationships, power dynamics and moral dilemmas, which W. Somerset Maugham portrays so well. I’d like to think that I’m able to capture the characters’ physical and emotional experiences, reflecting my own varied and nuanced life experiences. My characters’ motivations and the conflicts on their journeys must feel authentic and meaningful.
For example, my dystopian novel reflects what I am experiencing and what I fear could happen in my own world. Dystopian fiction often reflects real-world fears, anxieties and observations, channelling concerns about the future. By creating a world where societal breakdown, authoritarianism and human suffering are intensified, I try to explore the possible outcomes of problems I see unfolding in the present—perhaps political, environmental or social.
Of course, these issues aren’t abstract or distant but personal and deeply connected to my world and the things I care about. It is a way of processing my concerns, confronting the frightening aspects, and trying to warn others or work out solutions. To do this, I try to think about the development of society and what could go wrong, and rather than writing articles, I use a story as a space to express this, combining my fears with creative exploration. You could see it as a form of activism. At my age, I have spent my life trying to leave the world a little better when I go. Whether I achieve that is for others to decide.
So, in a way, my writing, especially the recent dystopian novels, is part of a legacy of thought and action that I hope will help make the world a better place or at least raise awareness of where things might be going. Activism can take many forms, and storytelling is a powerful one. I hope that through my writing, I’m not just telling a story but potentially influencing perspectives, challenging the status quo in a small way, and inviting others to think about the consequences of inaction or harmful systems.
Fiction, especially dystopian fiction, can act as a mirror and a warning - inviting readers to think critically about the world they’re living in and the future they want to shape whether or not the wider world acknowledges my efforts, my emotional investment and life experience fuel my work and hopefully give it layers of meaning beyond mere entertainment.
My current novel, Seeds of Resistance, is the first of a trilogy. It is intended to be a powerful narrative arc, moving from the struggles of the present generation to a future vision of hope or resolution. By structuring it as a trilogy, I’m trying to critique the current state of affairs and explore the long-term consequences and possibilities for change.
The first novel lays the groundwork by confronting the harsh realities of a dystopian world and the immediate challenges of survival and resistance. The transition to the next generation in the second novel, Naomi’s Sphere, is a shift - suggesting that while the current characters may not fully overcome the dystopian forces, their efforts are sowing the seeds for future generations to take up the struggle. This progression mirrors real-world activism, where change often takes more than one lifetime to achieve.
With the third novel I plan to write, Ashanti’s Heirs, I hope to provide a ‘way forward’, offering readers a vision of possible solutions or a better future, hopefully inspiring but vital in dystopian literature. Without hope, it’s easy for such stories to feel too bleak. I hope my trilogy will leave readers with a sense of possibility and empowerment, showing that despite the challenges, the fight for a better world continues and it’s worth pursuing.
I intended to show that the past has relied too much on male solutions, and female intuition has often been sidelined. Matriarchy isn’t the solution but integrating both male and female perspectives is essential for holistic solutions. It’s a theme that resonates strongly today, where there’s a growing recognition that many historical ‘solutions’ have been disproportionately masculine, often prioritising control, hierarchy and external power while sidelining the more intuitive, communal and nurturing aspects traditionally associated with the feminine.
By not presenting matriarchy as the solution in itself, I aim to avoid the pitfall of swinging from one extreme to the other, which can sometimes happen in narratives that focus on gender dynamics. Instead, my approach of seeking an integration of masculine and feminine attributes suggests a more nuanced vision - one in which balance, mutual respect and cooperation between these forces are essential. This emphasis on integration could lead my characters, especially in the second and third books, to challenge the rigidity of past systems and cultivate a more flexible, empathetic and creative society.
We must focus on developing ‘real human skills’ without over-reliance on technology. This could be described as a subtle critique of our modern world, where technology often substitutes for real growth or connection. In my vision, technology enhances life but does not replace the importance of human intuition, empathy and resilience. This is reminiscent of movements that emphasise ‘appropriate technology’—tools and innovations that support human life but do not dominate it.
()
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It’s really difficult to say wether I am trying to avoid the thrust of the major plot, in order to try to indicate that the plot so far is nothing but unfinished, rather than suggesting an awareness of a possible change in how it’s moving along, weather it dried up seeking some elaboration to move it, or simply leave it like that unfinished. Not sure. But by leaving it as is, can place some floating metaphor there which may connect and naturally plug into the continuous fold of what may develop.
I will try to look into how to fill in the little boy, and I simply don’t see at this point any way to go from the free flow consciousness , to me more visual to the literal sense of how to carry over meaning over some kind of treshold -boundary.
In no way do I want to give the impression that developing this idea has any other motive in mind then to explore the magic that carried me to this point ,rather then developing for the sake of publishing something. I missed that chance as a calling quite a while ago, knowing that was not in the cards for me.
