Ken Liu
Shadows of the Past
He loved her. Every waking moment, William would spend thinking about Holly: recalling every word she had said to him, counting all the hugs she had given him, and over-analysing every thing. Sound familiar?
Will and Holly had been best friends for four years, but Will had always desired something more. His liking for her had been on and off during this time and Holly only ever saw him as just a great friend. Sometimes when she would be friendly, he misled himself into thinking she liked him, but reality would usually bring him back to his senses.
They lived in an age where there were no cinemas, no television or even the humble telephone. They socialised by taking walks in the parks close by and they would talk about their day and their life. Once a fortnight, there was a ball held in the neighbourhood and they went as partners and danced into the night.
Will sometimes had devilish thoughts of looking up Holly’s dress, but alas, the dresses back then were like the Iron Curtain or the Berlin Wall.
Will of course had never told Holly that he longed for her but he knew she had some idea at least. The way he looked into her eyes at every dance, his melancholy mood when she was with others, and the way he surprised her from time to time with gifts; Will added all this up intricately in his mind, even remembering to carry the one.
The surprising thing is Holly had never backed away from the friendship though Will liked her. She was seldom uncomfortable with knowing this.
Holly’s family was wealthy, which was more than what can be said for William’s family. perhaps this is why she doesn’t like me back. oh who cares, i’m happy just to be her friend…actually i do care. maybe she doesn’t like me because i’m not attractive to her…or maybe she likes me, but doesn’t want to do anything because she doesn’t wish to ruin the friendship. or she likes me, but she hasn’t the courage to speak, like the same reason why i haven’t notified her of my feelings yet. or maybe not
*********
02/05/02
Dear Diary,
I was clearing out my basement the other day. You know what urban legends there are about basements! Anyway, the point is, I came across what seems to be an unfinished romance story from perhaps the times of Jane Austen or Charles Dickens. My best friend Mark is an expert historian and he dates it as definitely back in the 19th century if not earlier. I wonder who wrote it.
An interesting idea came to me to complete the story! Now that would be fun. I haven’t written anything romantic since high school.
I think instead of finishing it how the original writer might have wanted it to finish, I’ll add in my own ending, and make it more believable in today’s world. Things HAVE changed!
Yours truly,
Ken
*********
Will had just come back from his fortnightly ball with Holly. We should give him a moment since he is still reliving the music and dancing earlier in the night.
Holly had of course already returned home in her carriage before the stroke of 12. She remembered not to leave her glass slipper behind this time. She let of a sigh and had dropped her mask. No sound had been made when she dropped it of course since it was a figurative mask. It was the mask she would use every time she was with Will. She did not feel comfortable with William being in love with her like a sick dog, and the mask gave her an escape. It was a mask she could reproduce at anytime on request. After all, she has had much practice over the last 4 years.
Will knew none of this as he finally thought about something other than Holly. He did not really possess any thoughts since he was only taking off his clothes and having a bath. If only Will knew that Holly at that same moment was also undressing for a bath, then he would rush to her house and climb to the bathroom window (second from the left on the first floor, Will knew it well) and have a good look to quench his thoughts of looking up her dress.
For the first time, as Holly sat in the bath in her bubbles, she thought about the events at the ball. She knew she was lucky to have someone to care for her as much as Will does and always be there for her. She began to realise that in the past she had treated him with an almost false friendship and love. And he still stuck by her. She knew she did not deserve him.
Will was not repulsive to her, far from it. It was just that she had never seen him as attractive and loved him until now.
Holly reasoned all this while her mask was still on the floor, where she had dropped it earlier.
Will was standing in front of his bathroom mirror looking at himself. He was humming a song he had learnt in school years ago, Ben Jonson’s Women are but Men’s Shaddowes.
He still remembered all the words and eventually broke into song:
Follow a shaddow, it still flies you;
Seem to flye it, it will pursue:
So court a mistris, shee denyes you;
Let her alone, shee will court you.
Say, are not women truly then,
Stil’d be the shaddowes of us men?
At morne, and even, shades are longest;
At noone, they are short, or none:
So men at weakest, they are strongest,
But grant us perfect, they’re not knowne.
Say, are not women truly, then, full grown
Stil’d be the shaddowes of us men?
The words sunk in. William thought, from an objective point of view, that he was quite a handsome gentleman; and that he deserved better than to wait all along for someone who did not feel the same way.
For once, William decided to stand up for himself. He decided he no longer needed Holly, he no longer liked her, and she was to be no longer in his thoughts, in his dreams. Holly is no more.
“Women are but men’s shadows” he said firmly as he left the bathroom, and walked, for the first time in his life, with determination into his study.
He found what he was looking for and was toying with it in his hands. It was a card, with the contact details of a woman he’d once met and still kept in touch with. Anna Douglas-Morris. She was very beautiful, right up there with Holly and she was in love with him.
William had decided to let go of Holly and give Anna ––
*********
Ken froze as he realised something was not right. He was about to write “and give Anna a call” but found himself unsure of whether telephones were invented back in the 19th Century. He read the original romance story again and came to the line “They lived in an age where there were no cinemas, no television or even the humble telephone.”
if they didn’t have the telephone back then, how did the writer know of it? and i’m sure cinemas and television were definitely not invented back then.
Ken’s eyes then darted to the line “but alas, the dresses back then were like the Iron Curtain or the Berlin Wall.” He dropped his pen and stepped back from his desk. the iron curtain and the berlin wall were from the 20th century!
What’s more, Mark had assured me that the original romance story dates back to the 19th century if not earlier.
He turned his head and fixed his eyes on the basement door with fear and uncertainty.
Reflection Statement
Postmodern techniques used:
- A sense of the past – mentions of cinemas, television and telephone when they had not yet been invented in the historical context of the original story.
- Some stream of consciousness
- Experimenting with a pastiche of different text types, diary entry and narrative
- Experimenting with many different narrators:
1. The narrator of the original romance
2. Will becomes the narrator for a while when his thoughts are revealed
3. Ken, the narrator of the diary entry and his ending to the original romance
4. The omniscient narrator at the end
This makes this text, a story within a story within a story
- Intertextuality – Pastiche from Ben Jonson’s poetry
- Some fragmentation with the bathroom scene, switching between Will and Holly
- Twist at the end of the story, but still radical indeterminancy because no answers are provided and the reader is left wondering what actually happened