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Literature Text
Fear was the best oppression. A perfect violence simply because it was an implied violence. It crept and skulked throughout the cities and in the remote villages like a mist that came out abruptly from the deeps of the impenetrable forest. It kept close to all like an inseparable companion, draped over the shoulders of hunched men and hushed women. Its tell-tale signs impressed on the children more and more as they grew older, they unfortunate enough to not know a world without the fear. It hung everywhere. In the streets, in the shops, in the dance halls, in the temples. It was a life form of its own. And perhaps it had become untameable, even by those who thought that the rope was theirs to wield. How could this be living? How could this be life?
But a passion still glowed in the eyes of Simon Daschink. He was a single man, a quiet man—a dangerous man. Or so all the men without names and sombre suits believed. Condemned for being just who he was, for loving another man. An abomination in the eyes of State and Church and "the common morality". In truth, though, Daschink had not been dangerous because of who he was, because he was in love. No, not before he became a man in love who lost his love. A flame had been in him once; but it was a simple flame for him and for Him. A warmth for two in an unlit and cold playhouse run by men rapt in a comedic masterpiece. Now that flame was a fire, for murdered love is fierce and inextinguishable and unforgiving.
M.M. — 09-May-2013
But a passion still glowed in the eyes of Simon Daschink. He was a single man, a quiet man—a dangerous man. Or so all the men without names and sombre suits believed. Condemned for being just who he was, for loving another man. An abomination in the eyes of State and Church and "the common morality". In truth, though, Daschink had not been dangerous because of who he was, because he was in love. No, not before he became a man in love who lost his love. A flame had been in him once; but it was a simple flame for him and for Him. A warmth for two in an unlit and cold playhouse run by men rapt in a comedic masterpiece. Now that flame was a fire, for murdered love is fierce and inextinguishable and unforgiving.
M.M. — 09-May-2013
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Comments1
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Overall
Vision Originality Technique ImpactIt is a very daring subject. Not many people will read something that has a man who loved another man. I personally respect that. To be constructive, it is a little choppy and unorganized, but it can be easily adapted. You could also choose to leave it as is. There's so much emotion, and yet you haven't even described Simon yet. If you choose to progress, draw as much attention to Simon's personality so that people won't just write him off as a gay man who lost his love. I also see so much potential with problems with Simon and the State and Church. I realize this is just the beginning, but what was the connection between the first paragraph and the second? Obviously, Simon was afraid of what other people would do to him, but he quelled his fear to avenge the death of his love. However, the topic of fear seemed like the main idea, but then it completely switched. Lastly, your heart may be sinking when you read all the criticism, but be aware that I wouldn't bother at all if it weren't all very subtle things. It is a marvelous story, and I would love to read more.