We couldn't imagine the emptiness of a creature who put a razor to her wrists and opened her veins, the emptiness and the calm.
Jeffrey EugenidesRead
I want an ending that's satisfying. I'm more of a classical writer than a modernist one in that I want the ending to be coherent and feel like an ending. I don't like when it just seems to putter out. I mean, life is chaotic enough.
Interpretation
The quote expresses a desire for a meaningful and coherent resolution in storytelling, reflecting life's inherent chaos.
In this quote, Jeffrey Eugenides articulates a preference for narrative endings that provide closure and fulfillment, opposing the modernist tendency to leave stories open-ended. He suggests that just as life is unpredictable and chaotic, a satisfying conclusion in art and literature is essential to convey meaning and comfort to the audience.
In practice
This quote can be used during a writing workshop to emphasize the importance of a satisfying conclusion in storytelling.
We couldn't imagine the emptiness of a creature who put a razor to her wrists and opened her veins, the emptiness and the calm.
It was the combination of many factors... With most people, suicide is like Russian roulette. Only one chamber has a bullet. With the Lisbon girls, the gun was loaded. A bullet for family abuse. A bullet for genetic predisposition. A bullet for historical malaise. A bullet for inevitable momentum. The other two bullets are impossible to name, but that doesn't mean the chambers were empty.
Depression is like a bruise that never goes away. A bruise in your mind. You just got to be careful not to touch it where it hurts. It's always there, though.
She lost much of her appetite. At night, an invisible hand kept shaking her awake every few hours. Grief was physiological, a disturbance of the blood. Sometimes a whole minute would pass in nameless dread - the bedside clock ticking, the blue moonlight coating the window like glue - before she`d remember the brutal fact that had caused it.
It was one of those humid days when the atmosphere gets confused. Sitting on the porch, you could feel it: the air wishing it was water.
Jerome was sliding and climbing on top of me and it felt like it had the night before, like a crushing weight. So do boys and men announce their intentions. They cover you like a sarcophagus lid. And call it love.
I suppose society is wonderfully delightful. To be in it is merely a bore. But to be out of it is simply a tragedy.
Most people are prisoners, thinking only about the future or living in the past. They are not in the present, and the present is where everything begins.
I am a strong believer that without justice, there is no peace. No lasting peace, anyway.
Smell and taste differentiate, whereas language, like sight and hearing, integrates.
Truth is most beautiful undraped.
And so was Luria, whose words now came back to me: βA man does not consist of memory alone. He has feeling, will, sensibility, moral being ... It is here ... you may touch him, and see a profound change.β Memory, mental activity, mind alone, could not hold him; but moral attention and action could hold him completely.
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