Alphabetical Africa

For class today, I had to read the Walter Abish book Alphabetical Africa. And the structure's the thing: The first chapter contains only words starting with A, the second only words starting with A or B. Etc., all the way to Z, at which point Abish goes back from Z to A, condensing his now-expanded plot—which inevitably involves getting rid of many characters (including himself, as "I).

A taste:
"Ages ago, Alex, Allen and Alva arrived at Antibes, and Alva allowing all, allowing anyone, against Alex's admonition, against Allen's angry assertion: another African amusement...anyhow, as all argued, an awesome African army assembled and arduously advance against an African anthill, assiduously annihilating and after ant...." Yes, it was ARDUOUS to plow through.

There's this group called OULIPO, the Ouvroir de Littérature Potentielle, or Workshop of Potential Literature—a bunch of writers and mathematicians (many French) that create work using arbitrarily constrained rules. Such as Abish did in this book.

This is all well and good for discussion. But in this particular tutorial of mine, we do in-class writing in the style of the writer we're reading each week....so far, the list has included Calvino, Shelley Jackson, Robert Coover, Raymond Carver, Barthelme, and some others. And today it was Abish. Our prof, Jonathan Baumach, asked us to write for 25 minutes in a sort of Alphabetical Brooklyn conceit—using A through E. Of course, I knew my protagonist would have to be ME. The E.

Then Baumbach left the room.

We all laughed, then tried to get to work, each telling highly restricted stories. Giggles broke out every few minutes as someone thought of another ridiculous sentence. For humiliation's sake, here's my piece. Exactly how I pulled it together on a piece of yellow paper. I have to say, it was a really fun exercise—putting limits on the way you can use language sometimes actually opens up more possibilities.

Especially for unintended absurdity! (There is a Continental car service, and I live on 7th and Carroll, but I haven't had a near-death experience in Brooklyn yet. Bad coffee? Maybe....)


E
Evelyn argues. Evelyn’s anger an arrow at Bob. Bob a bagel baker at a Carroll corner. Bob bakes bad bagels. Evelyn aggressively awake after bemusing dream, descends. Attempts crossing. Cantankerous Continental car company driver almost causes accident, ends Evelyn’s existence?

Bad day. Crying. Bawling. Burbling.

After bagel anger and argumentation, Evelyn asks beggar at convenient bodega: As a Brooklynite, can Bob be a bastard? Can Bob be bollocks? Or barely bored? Beggar asserts affirmatively: Aaaaaaaah. Beggar burns down doobie. Ash.

Evelyn ambles down avenue, a bitter Brooklynite. Coffee cold. Bagel bad. Almost dead. Evelyn antsy—classwork due.

Babies everywhere. Babies and children and cute dogs. Babies, again. Babies, babies, babies. Do Brooklynites bang in bed constantly? Yes. Agreed. And everywhere: cars, envelopes, cheese, black boots, collars, eyeglasses, apples, Americanos, bars. And also apathy.

Evelyn barters: Can Bartholomew, barista, brew additional coffee? Coins. But an awkward dearth. Barista Bartholomew concurs: Coin dearth. Aha. Big deal. Boss don’t care: Americano cup coming! Child cries. Bartholomew’s evil eye, aggro. Child afraid. Evelyn appreciates. Appreciates coffee anew, and child’s azure eyes, all big and blue and agua. Evelyn drops coins, can’t be bothered. Ambles again. Attempts again eating bad bagel, but bread breaks.

Bye-bye.

Car beeps. Evelyn bends down: a can. Examines.

Ants. Dirt. Candy. Detritus. Also, cold air, baking aroma, doubleparking: all Brooklyn. Dog breeds and caterwauling cats. College. Canvassing. Beards. Egos. All Brooklyn. Big blue bays and coffee carts and energy drinks and dynamism and alcohol and booze and beer and drunks drinking. All Brooklyn. Evelyn elated. Evelyn cheerful. Evelyn discovering an epiphany. Evelyn as adopted Brooklynite, content despite atrociously bad bagel and almost-death experience. Evelyn doesn’t care about dirt, about dust, about crowds—because Brooklyn is currently best

Bad day ended. Better day begins.

Baumbach class ahead.