"Maybe here people won't be killing each other every single day." ... <----- BOOK 1.6
God, to this day I can't imagine what my grandparents were thinking, feeling, nothing. I would've definitely pissed my pants, one way or another. Love is said to conquer all, but what about my DNA? These thoughts and questions have become a part of my daily routine. Some people struggle, experience crazy things and emerge saying "It made me stronger and better." I know better. My life is a scientific question mark. What I'm wondering is why this question mark appears every time I look into a mirror. I can say I miss the old days, though. The days when I had no idea that I would have no idea what I am in the future. Recalling my childhood is like reading someone else's diary. It's foreign. I can relate but can't directly feel or re-experience anything. Honestly, I couldn't care less anymore. I'm just smooth sailing. And now I'm just lying. I don't know what my problem is. Especially with Julie. I want her. I think I could make something out of it if I wasn't so scared of her reaction to my undescending testicles. My strange, pain and pleasureful sexual experiences are also at fault when it comes to my shyness. If I had grown up a normal guy I would be able to respond to girls better and be more open. If I had grown up a normal girl, I'd probably be a lesbian, which in a way, I was. My parents didn't help either. Chapter 11 was a pain in the neck when I was a teenage girl and now that I'm a grown balding man, he remains a pain. Let me just tell you, this transition’s only slightly easy if you pretend it's not a transition. Otherwise, you're screwed. Back to my grandparents- wait, just a quick question...WOULD YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH AND MARRY YOUR BROTHER? It's cool if you would, and it's cool if you wouldn’t but keep in mind that one day you'll have a granddaughter/son who makes money growing up by being a scientific guinea pig. Don't forget that. My poor grandparents had no idea they screwed up my DNA. But you have the power to control your future and prevent that from happening in your family. So, off the boat and welcome to New York City yiayia. My pappou missed Bursa. You could tell by the look on his face. He missed waking up and seeing Mount Olympus on his doorstep. My grandmother had all she ever needed with her. All she wanted were to keep my grandfather and her silkworms with her at all times to feel as safe as possible. It's not fair, you know? She gets comfort for a lifetime but from my moment of birth I've never felt true comfort around me or within myself. It's not even my fault. If I had a nickel for every time I paid for someone else's huge mistake I would have an enormous nickel. I remember reading the report the scientists wrote about me. They observed my behavior, my speech, my body language and took a hell of a lot of blood. I remember it said "The girl has always sat to urinate like other girls. However, blood tests confirmed an XY chromosomal status." It was like saying, "Callie, I know you feel like a girl and look like one even though you're tall and flat. I know you were raised and convinced you were a girl. But your blood says boy so guess what? Rock beats scissors. Welcome to manhood. How comfy and cozy were those villages back then in Asia Minor? How could you not find anyone that you had to be so desperate as to shack up with your brother? Talk about chromosomes. That's like swapping chromosomes with your family members. I can understand but I just don't want to. I can understand how love can make things okay and can provide comfort and true happiness, and I believe it's the only thing that can. But, just because I understand it doesn't mean I feel it myself and it most certainly doesn't mean that I'm okay with what happened. I'm a man now. We don't forgive and forget easily. Or is that women? Wow, this is confusing. ...
BOOK TWO
What's in your hands?
My Land
My Love
My Music
Pollock
1 comment:
It was an honor to summarize the novel, as was filling in a chapter mimicking the author's writing style. Actually, it was more of a pleasure for me. I felt as though I could disguise myself in the author's clothes, use his writing utensil, go to a coffee shop and write like him. I felt forty years old. It was great. Throughout the whole novel, I admired the author's evolution of writing as the main character got older and wiser. I tried to narrate as well as he does and attempted to address the actual narrator's past issues, speaking as if they were my own- something Eugenides did with ease and flair. It was a great read and overall nice experience to read and then write with someone else's techniques for a change.
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