by Ann Bogle
I changed my mind about what had taken place: I had failed improperly, not, as I at first believed, won every heart. The hearts were in the field. The hearts, our hearts, our two tall hearts, our too-tall friendship, too tall for men, our hearts in our eyes, at a level, to the side, our hating to do this: to win, we lose.
The Queen of Spades had not won every heart, but it was not in her heart to realize it, and now: What difference did it make? She had reported her gain.
Did her face require so much studious fascination? I had looked at the side of her face more ways than one—the sort of face she wore but also the face her parents had given her, ancient bone structure, judge's eyes.
I was not “best.” I was better and “sincerely.”
She bore herself like a “widow.” Men edged up to her kinetic circle, wanting to touch him: her father, to meet him, to know him, to test for his riches, but they'd already had her, and he, not hearing all this ridiculousness, girl-to-woman, woman-to-man, serenely born, knew her as a girl!
Neither of us thought of real winning. We set about brilliant losing, dark angel forms of luck and greed, the desire, the craving, the need to lose so strenuous that one wins; we tied at thirteen. She was 26 when she faked her victory. I was 29 when I lost mine.
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Rivals theme for September 26, 2010: 52/250.
Originally called "Queen of Spades" (803 words)
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"We set about brilliant losing, dark angel forms of luck and greed, the desire, the craving, the need to lose...."
This work challenges with its multifarious implications, interpretations, deception and beauty. This work renders its truths as poetry, It's cyptic and clear at once.
yeah, cryptic alright as james says but there's a courage here - as in all your pieces - not to slimily slide down the reader's throat: must chew, must chew, this says. differently put: every single reading i've given this has brought up a different image, a different mood. magically marvelous. i imagine you're a moody person in person. somehow, "men edged up to her kinetic circle" is the energetic centre of this text for me. the title is brilliant. your attitude: autumnal in the best sense of the season.
So many layers here, and each read elicits some other reaction: vying for men, vying for friendship, Daddy's attention, what it means to 'win'. As Marcus says, chew, chew. Delicious going down, though. Very delicious.
I admire the emotions your words evoke, beyond the primal ones. Peace *
yes, I just sent you an email about those layers and I echo Linda's admiration for your words. This is one time when I want to/have self-identify "as a woman-reader." *
I find it sardonic and there's a touch of contempt in the knowledge being revealed. Dark. Beautiful language. Nicely open to meaning.
I never tire of work that makes me want to read it again and again, and this certainly falls into that category.
An exceptional piece of work, Ann. Really strong phrasings. A piece to come back to, and come back to.
"Did her face require so much studious fascination? I had looked at the side of her face more ways than one—the sort of face she wore but also the face her parents had given her, ancient bone structure, judge's eyes."
I really connect here.
Brilliant. Hate to keep using that word in reference to your work, but it's the one that comes out when I try to shake out a response. Besides, there is a hundred mega-watt source behind ev'ry damn one of your sentences and I'd hate to get electrocuted by parsing any one of them.
I agree with what everyone else said. Exceptional, with many fine layers to it.
Thanks, all readers for the comments and fav's. I liked this piece less in its longer form, without the needed opportunity to tighten it around a theme.
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I love the first sentences. At times, during the piece, you lose me to bafflement, but I believe you intend to, so you succeed.
Thanks, Mata and Beate.
"the need to lose so strenuous that one wins"--a lasting insight.
Lots of titles, including your original, can work here. "Brilliant Losing" to me is very strong as a phrase and as a possible title.
full confession, Ann - I've reread this story pretty much every day since you posted it. Obsessive? Perhaps. I don't care. It's masterful work by an amazing talent.
I sense striving and resignation all at once -- a necessary combination in almost all things, a longing for contentment. Although I'm not sure that's the point here -- the search for contentment (and the elusiveness of it?) -- but I like reading it between the lines, nevertheless. And the title offsets all that so wonderfully, too.
But I could be completely wrong -- This is my second reading of this piece, and I will have to re-read this again. I am quite sure I don't get it all, but I like the words on the page a great deal.
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