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Alegria
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 Posted: Sun Mar 08, 2009 2:02 pm Post subject: |
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Chapter 2
Based on Gustav Holst’s Jupiter the Bringer of Jollity from the Planets Suite
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3B49N46I39Y
Summer, 1929
A flap of wings. The flitting moths fluttered frantically to their daytime abodes.
A flap of wings. The triumphant butterflies loped lazily into the reign of dawn.
The sun broke above the horizon, touching the world with its rose fingertips. Wind brushed through the leaves of the great oak in the clearing. Birds chirped incessantly, lending their silver songs to the coming day—a day that would know only joy.
The heat of the sun wiped away the tears of the night as the dew silently evaporated. The butterflies danced about the leaves and the breeze, going nowhere, doing nothing. The day was magnificent, unending, confident. The rays advanced onward.
The light slowly crept up the walls of the buildings in the town. Those few who were awake breathed in and enjoyed a brilliant display of color. Brick by brick, the houses, the stores, the banks were illuminated. The bricks seemed to shine. The butterflies flew around the steeple of the church and nestled in the priest’s garden flowers.
The alarm clock rang, its shrill note blaring, waking the boy. The boy’s mother called his name. He got out of bed, dressed, and walked down stairs. His father sat reading the paper and looked up to greet the boy. The boy did not meet his eyes and the father went back to his newspaper. The father left to go to work at the bank. The boy ate silently, got up from the table, and opened the door.
As the boy walked down the street, he noticed a certain order to the town. The blacksmith worked on horseshoes, swinging his hammer up and down. The children ran in the street as always. The cars on the street passed by slowly, their horns letting out comical noises. The people went in and out of shops, looking to buy or sell. Many were just coming out of their homes to greet the new day.
Fifteen seemed a wonderful age for the boy, the perfect age to experience days when blacksmiths worked and children rand and horns honked and people shopped. Nature’s pulse seemed to fill the boy. The other teenager of the town called for him. “Jonathan,” they shouted. The boy smiled and went over to them.
Together, the boys crept about, pulling pranks on the schoolteachers, swiping a few cantaloupes from a melon patch. Only the boy’s families were out of danger, by virtue of blood alone. Robert, the one with the blond hair was especially adamant over the priest, Jonathan’s grandfather.
At ten o’clock, the sun woke the girl. She sighed and got out of the comfortable bed. Fussing as always, the maid came into the room to make up the bed as the girl dressed. She pulled on a light pink dress and smiled. She dabbed lipstick and rogue on her lips and cheeks and smiled. She kissed her mother and father when they came into her room, and prepared to leave the house for the day.
The driver pulled the car around and she got into the back seat with many a “Good morning, Miss Rosaline” and far too many a “Can I help you with anything, Miss Rosaline?” She smiled sweetly at all of them and told the driver to go into town and, once there, to let her go off on her own and to enjoy a nice day at the bar. The driver smiled.
The car pulled away from the girl’s house—a stately white two-story house with columns in front, one of the only houses in the area to have survived the Civil War. The car sped along the newly paved, tree-lined road. Finally, the vehicle arrived at the town. She alighted and narrowly missed being hit by a speeding car. Her car sped off after the driver made sure she was okay. She heard a man shout and looked around.
The group teenage boys were sneaking away from a lawn. In that lawn was a man who was staring at his rosebush, shouting. All the roses were gone but one, and ever sneaking boy had a flower in their hands. Once they were far enough away from the man, they found the nearest girls their age they could and gave them the flowers, smiling and speaking softly into their ears. The girls giggled. All the boys had given their flowers away but Jonathan, who looked nervously into the street.
Miss Rosaline looked into the street.
Their eyes met, their gazes penetrating each other’s souls in the way only a child’s gaze can, but thinking of each other in ways only adults can. The boy didn’t say a word, he simply left his friends and began to walk across the street to the girl. The girl did the same. The boy’s friends made catcalls and whistles, mocking their friend. The girl blushed, a pretty rose flush covering her cheeks. He smiled at her and she smiled back. On impulse, she spun in the street, laughing. The boy smiled broadly and the couple continued their pas de duex towards each other. Finally, they were within speaking distance. The girl smiled and held out her hand. Her voice was as liquid and flowing as when the boy had first seen her and the New Year’s Eve dance in the clearing all those years ago.
“Jonathan, how nice to see you.”
The boy took her hand. “How wonderful to see you, Miss Roussard.”
She smiled and whispered. “Call me Rosaline, please.”
The boy nodded and started to lead her away. “Shall we go, Rosaline?” The girl nodded and the couple walked down the street to the outskirts of town.
When they had finally reached the oak in the old clearing, they stopped. The girl sat between two of the old, twisted roots, which seemed almost made to be a seat. The boy sat on the ground beside her. A butterfly sped towards them and alighted on the boy, bringing with it a thought. Father would not want me to be a lone with a girl like this. The boy quickly brushed the thought and the butterfly away though, as the girl began to speak as the boy unpacked a picnic lunch.
“I love it out here, so close to the rest of nature. Can you hear the birds?” The boy nodded and stretched. The girl left her perch on the roots and sat beside the boy. They did not speak for a while. They did not have to. The weather was perfect, the birds chirped, the leaves rustled in the wind. The breeze cooled the children’s skin, she smell of wildflowers and grasses came to them. The girl lightly rested her head on the crux where the boy’s arm and body met. In that moment, even nature seemed pleased with the couple, sending a small squirrel to scurry by the couple. The girl’s lips parted in awe. The boy smiled. The notions of priesthood and God seemed distant, almost unreal. In that clearing, nothing existed but Jonathan, Rosaline, and nature. The boy glanced at the girl who glanced back up at him.
“You know, we’ve been together for almost five years now in secret. Not doing anything, just together, sitting here.” Her voice was quiet and pensive, not demanding, not pleading. “For just once I would to know the taste of your lips.” She fell silent again.
The boy looked at the sky and thought about his grandfather, about his mother, about God, about his father. In that moment, they all seemed dim. They all existed only in his mind. Unsurely, cautiously, he let them all go, every single one of them, ever piece of advice or instruction they had ever given him was gone.
And he kissed her.
Their lips met and nature seemed to resound with the sounds of the rustling leaves and the singing birds and the day seemed magnificent and magical. The leaves seemed greener and the girl’s dress seemed pinker. The boy’s hand went to the back of her head and her hand went to his face. They lay in the sun until the sun began to disappear. Then, without a word, but with many looks, they walked back into the town.
DP
What music will the next chapter be based upon? Please nominate a piece that is classical/classical sounding. Anything instrumental will work, or if a work has words but is just extraordinary, feel free to nominate that piece. Please post a link to a video of your desired song with your nomination.
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Alegria
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| Posted: Sun Mar 08, 2009 2:04 pm Post subject: |
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Just a quick note on the music for this chapter, I stopped writing after the Jupiter chorale (the slow part in the middle) because I thought that would be the best place to stop for storytelling purposes. Hope you aren't mad (I can add on more if you want)
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Mon Mar 09, 2009 2:48 am Post subject: |
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Again, very very good. Interesting how you have the moths dispersing from the previous chapter, yet the scene opens 10 years later. A sort of ghost of a memory, almost, something that has stayed with Jonathan all these years. You captured the opening part of the music very well.
Jupiter always sends a shiver down my back and perhaps it is because the piece evokes different feelings and visuals for me than your chapter that I lost the connection between the writing and the music when they got up on the hill. I felt that the music was just a little too powerful for their delicate relationship, although the slow part did embody his sudden abandonment of everything his upbringing stood for rather well.
Although I don't think this was as outstanding as Chapter 1 it was still an awesome chapter, and you wove the sound and the written word together very well.
I'm going to put forward Jeux de Mer by Debussy again - partly because of the variety of moods in there should be interesting, and partly because after 45 minutes of looking I couldn't find a decent recording of Ravel's Bolero (which was the other one I had in mind!) - but perhaps someone else could suggest that one, or maybe for a later DP.
Bravo!
And nominated for SGOTM. Good luck! 
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Alegria
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| Posted: Tue Mar 10, 2009 2:36 pm Post subject: |
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Crunchy, I love Bolero. I found a Youtube vid, but it wasn't good quality.
Also, I have another request. If you can find a version under 8 minutes long to post of your song, that would be great. I can't write a chapter based on 20 minutes of music. You try that.
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Tue Mar 10, 2009 2:42 pm Post subject: |
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| Is Bolero really 20 minutes long? Good grief no wonder I could only find truncated recordings. Jeux de Mer is just under 7 mins, but I'll keep in mind the length of these things going forward!
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Alegria
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| Posted: Tue Mar 10, 2009 5:41 pm Post subject: |
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Oh no, Bolero isn't 20 minutes long, I'm just saying that if someone wants to nominate something like Rhapsody in Blue (16:20) or Requiem in D (25:32), find a condensed version, please.
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| Posted: Fri Mar 13, 2009 11:12 am Post subject: |
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I have to confess that I read without listening to the music, but the writing definitely holds up well on its own. I'll have to go back and re-read it with the music later before I can submit a piece for the next bit, but I just wanted to say well done, Alegria! Highly enjoyable.
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"But I like it
Because it is bitter
And because it is my heart." -- Stephen Crane
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| Posted: Wed Mar 25, 2009 4:23 pm Post subject: |
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Pretty cool Idea Leggie! No nominations for songs, sadly, as classical-sounding isn't really my forte, unless you want something from a musical. And other people on the site can do better songs than that.
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| Posted: Wed Mar 25, 2009 5:54 pm Post subject: |
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I am continued to be amazed by the spectacular bond between the art of music and literature. I t really is quite an experience to read something and realize the music is almost perfectly atoned to what you are reading, very interesting. I do partially agree with crunchy, Jupiter evokes a great deal of emotions, its a bit of a more "imposing" song then others if you know what I mean. Thats why I didn't vote for it in the last DP, but all the same just as good as ever, very impressive.
As for the song this time around I think Isunova Pi or Raptamei Pi just for a change of feeling, its been to jolly lately  . The songs are technically classified under electronic, but the E.S. Posthumus songs have a very unique feeling to them, somehow caught between cinematic, electronic, and classical.
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| Posted: Wed Mar 25, 2009 7:30 pm Post subject: |
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Ooooh, I like all the suggestions. And Crunchy, if I can find a good quality version of Bolero, I'll nominate it, but it's proving... difficult to find...
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| Posted: Wed Mar 25, 2009 11:50 pm Post subject: |
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Not to worry if you can't, Just stick Jeux de Mer in as an option again!
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| Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 8:11 am Post subject: |
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Well, I'll go ahead and say it--
I nominate Ravel's Bolero
The vid isn't the best quality, but it's still ok.
Poll is up![/url]
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| Posted: Mon Mar 30, 2009 7:12 am Post subject: |
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It took me a very long time to decide. I love Debussy. I love Ravel. But I've gone for one of the Posthumus ones this time. Simply because it is different from the rest, and the electronic feel gives it a sense of uniformity throughout that we've not experienced up to now, and it will be interesting what effect it has on the chapter.
Leggy, whichever one wins, can I suggest that you keep hold of the links that don't win, and add them to suggestions for future polls if need be. I think all of them hold potential for future chapters, or future storygames of this type, even.
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| Posted: Mon Mar 30, 2009 12:02 pm Post subject: |
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Good idea, Crunchy. Thanks
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| Posted: Fri Apr 03, 2009 4:41 pm Post subject: |
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Wow, it seems the E.S. Posthumus songs seem to be pretty popular, didn't really expect that, I'll have to submit some of their better songs later on...
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| Posted: Thu May 07, 2009 6:40 pm Post subject: |
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So, to solve this tie, now that I am ready to begin writing again, I shall message Smee...
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| Posted: Thu May 07, 2009 10:45 pm Post subject: |
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Hmmm , I'm not greatly musical, and neither does YouTube want to load at work. But I'll have a listen this evening and vote then.
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| Posted: Sun May 10, 2009 7:52 am Post subject: |
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OK, soooo...
Smee has not voted yet and I am eager to get back to writing, so I'll just take out my vote. That makes Isunova Pi the winner!
See you guys on the other side!
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| Posted: Sat May 23, 2009 7:21 am Post subject: |
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I'm sorry this is taking so long, but Isunova is proving a little difficult to get into this story. I can't stop thinking of some kind of adventure through Egypt or something like that. Any ideas?
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| Posted: Sat May 30, 2009 7:11 am Post subject: |
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Believe it or not this is the first chance of total silence I've had for weeks to listen to this, and I see what you mean about the Egyptian adventure.
Unfortunately the 'easy listening' aspect of of this piece kind of makes it difficult for events to happen like you did with their eyes meeting in the last chapter, and the dance aspect of the one before that.
The best imagery I could come up with was dramatic landscapes from the air, particularly ruins of ancient monuments from numerous cultures. The choral effects keep the theme of religious path mapped out for this character's life, so perhaps this is a journey chapter. There is definitely a 'landing point' somewhere near the end of the work, followed by a short climax bringing us to the end of the piece.
We'd be in the 1930's - 1940's now I guess, so passenger air travel would be a really BIG DEAL, and if he were travelling it would have to be a place that he could only get to by air.
Hope that helps somewhat, and doesn't destroy any other idearium seedlings that may be germinating!
(editz to add )- duh, could be a train. Anyways, to sum it up it was travel through/above dramatic landscapes, and ruined monuments. Good luck with the writing whatever way it goes, can't wait to read it!
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| Posted: Tue Nov 10, 2009 4:21 pm Post subject: |
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*eagerly waits for next chapter*
I'm inclined to agree with Crunchy on this one in regards to the idea of a "journey". Though I would like to add that it could also amount to a more spiritual journey or change of beliefs, change of perception... A realization, and so on. As we have seen in this SG before music can certainly be tied into emotion as much as imagery! Just my thoughts... Looking forward to what you come up with!
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| Posted: Tue Nov 10, 2009 4:52 pm Post subject: |
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I've missed a lot on this one but i'll have to read this over more this does look very interesting
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| Posted: Tue Nov 10, 2009 11:50 pm Post subject: |
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Alegria had to leave organising the IFY's a few months ago because of RL stuff - I wouldn't hold your breath for a chapter any time soon.
I'm sure he'll be happy to see your comments though.
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| Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2009 12:38 am Post subject: |
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Ahhh... I had noticed he was gone... though I attributed that to my lack of observation 
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