In this exercise, you can pick your favorite author and write a scene that mirrors their style and voice. I chose to mirror Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha. Some large shoes to fill, but I couldn't pass up an opportunity to revisit my favorite book. Enjoy!
Original:
Siddhartha listened. He was now listening intently, completely absorbed, quite empty, taking in everything. He felt that he had now completely learned the art of listening. He had often heard all this before, all these numerous voices in the river, but today they sounded different. He could no longer distinguish the different voices—the merry voice from the weeping voice, the childish voice from the manly voice. They all belonged to each other: the lament of those who yearn, the laughter of the wise, the cry of the indignation and the groan of the dying. They were all interwoven and interlocked, entwined in a thousand ways. And all the voices, all the goals, all the yearnings, all the sorrows, all the pleasures. All the good and evil, all of them together was the world. All of them together was the stream of events, the music of life. When Siddhartha listened attentively to this river, to this song of a thousand voices; when he did not listen to the sorrow or laughter, when he did not bind his soul to any one particular voice and absorb it in his Self but heard them all, the whole, the unity; then the great song of a thousand voices consisted of one word: Om—perfection (Hesse 135-136).
My Version (with my protagonist from my thesis):
Margaret dreamed. She was dreaming intensely, entirely consumed, wholly open, wishing for everything. She had spent her life dreaming so entirely that she had completely mastered her dream life. She had dreamed so much that each desire had taken on its own voice, the blending of thousands of dreams. She could no longer hear each one, feel each impulse—the wistful dreams of death, the pipe dreams from the grandiose. They all collided with each other: the cacophony of all her yearnings, the squeal of her children’s delight, the anguish and sorrow of a broken fantasy. They were all entwined and interconnected, a fusing of familial desire. All the wants, all the needs, all the desperation, all the anxiety. All the haves and have nots, all of them congealed was her universe. Together they made a lost future, the life of could be. When Margaret listened closely to these dreams, this chorus of limitless voices; when she did not listen to what she had achieved or lost, when she did not define her Self by the sum total of her successes or failures but felt them all as one singular song, the entire hope, the future; then the abyss of possibility opened up into one perfect path: Freedom—discovery.
Your turn!
Who is your favorite author? Create a passage that mirrors a section from your favorite book, short story, or poem. Post it in a reply below!
Works Cited
Hesse, Hermann. Siddhartha, Bantam Books, New York, NY, July 1971. Print.
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