# from 'A Pinch of Salt'



## garza (Oct 13, 2011)

One day in February, the coldest day of that year, the old man died. A neighbour, meaning to do the right thing, sent for a priest when the struggle to live was near over. The priest who came was not the young priest, who talked little of God but much of life, and who had cheered with his talk the last days of the woman the old man had loved from his youth. 

The priest who came was the old priest, near as old as the old man himself. The old priest talked of death and hell and repentance, none of which the old man believed. To die was certain, but death was a blank, a nothing, and as there was no hell, there was never a need for repentance, certainly no need to beg forgiveness from a God he believed in no more than he believed in hell.

So the old man died. The one who wept the longest and shed the fewest tears was the grandson the old man had loved. The boy kept his tears inside himself, until at last, coming to an age near to that at which his grandfather had died, he began to weep, quietly, in the night, and to call softly to the dark, 'Granfa, please don't go'.


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## Higurro (Oct 13, 2011)

I was interested from the first line, and it's a good effective hook. I would rephrase "...certainly no need to beg forgiveness from a God he believed in no more than he believed in hell." to something like "certainly no need to beg forgiveness from a God he no more  believed in than hell." for the sake of simplicity.

I notice that the title is _From_ A Pinch of Salt, and it's clear enough from the writing that this would serve as an introduction, perhaps to a story about the end of the grandson's life (at least, that's what I'm imagining). Overall I'd say the premise sounds very strong, I like the title, the first line that you've posted here and the general direction this is going. Are you going to post any more of this?


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## garza (Oct 13, 2011)

Thanks for your comments, Higurro. In truth, that's the end. The story starts this way:

_Grandma Lettie broke her hip the winter she turned 76. She insisted on feeding her chickens early every morning, even when the grass was white with frost and the back steps glazed with ice. She lay on the ground crying with the bucket of shelled corn spilled beside her. Father and Mr Webb picked her up and carried her into the house.

‘Oh please, Jesus, please don’t let it be broke’ she said, over and over, while we waited for Doctor Peterson. He was with her about five minutes before he telephoned McRae County Hospital and asked for an ambulance. 
_
And the grandfather's attitude toward the Church is seen the first time a new young priest comes to call on the injured grandmother:

_‘Good morning, sir. I’m Father Patrick O’Donnel. I’ve been sent to call on Lettie O’Hagan.’

‘And whoever sent you should have told you that priests and peddlers come and go by the tradesmen’s entrance. You’ll find it ‘round that side of the house.’ Grandfather gestured with his pipe.

‘Thank you and God bless you sir.’

‘You may keep your blessing for those as asks for it.’_

The first bit I posted above was a testing of the waters, you might say, to see how the style of writing would work. As for the change you mention, it's a good suggestion, but would be a bit out of synch. While I do not try to imitate my grandfather's Belfast accent, I do try to keep the rhythm much the same as the way he talked.


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## Higurro (Oct 13, 2011)

Aha, well in that case might I say that the beginning you've posted seems at least as strong a start as what I initially took for the beginning. Presumably the ending is meant as a sort of 'coming full circle' affair? It's certainly very bittersweet, but given the theme of life and death, powerfully poignant. Thanks for sharing this.


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## garza (Oct 13, 2011)

Thank you. I'm thinking of posting the entire story, perhaps in two or three parts.


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## Brock (Oct 24, 2011)

I would love to read the entire story.  Is it a short-story?  The old man's attitude towards God and the church evidently does not change from begining to end.  Is there a moment in between where his "lack of faith" is tested?  Does the story give a reason for his thinking this way?  Is he angry with his life, thus angry with the concept of God, or is this just his view based on facts and evidence?


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## aj47 (Oct 28, 2011)

I'm confused by it being the neighbor who calls the priest.  And the time scale on the old man's death and the priest's visit seems off somehow -- the old man is kicking enough to disbelieve the priest yet he's dead when the discussion starts.

I love the style here, though, and the title fits with the kept tears.


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## garza (Nov 2, 2011)

Brock - All those questions are answered in the story, and indeed are central to the story.

astroannie - The neighbour calls for a priest because everyone in the family believes he would not want to see one when he's dying as it's for sure he didn't want to see one while he lived. He would have been happy enough to have seen the young priest with whom he had formed a halting sort of friendship because of the comfort the young priest had given to the grandmother as she lay an invalid, knowing she was dying.

The grandfather in the story is loosly based on my own grandfather who was an Irish Catholic Atheist from Belfast. He married a girl from 'across the road', as they say. He died when I was ten but by that time had taught me all I needed to know about life. The first piece that I posted above is the very end of the story and takes place about a month after the grandmother dies. She never recovers from her broken hip. The bit in post 3 is the beginning of the story. The story is set in the late 1940's.

Some of my favourite parts of the story involve the housekeeper, Cora, sent up from the Irish Channel in New Orleans to help after the grandmother breaks her hip. She was never intended to be an important character in the story, but insisted on pushing her way in and becoming a central figure. Here's what happened when the young priest first meets her:

_‘Good morning. I’m Father Patrick O’Donnel.’

  Cora looked up with a start, then carefully set the iron on the stove, crossed her arms, and stared down at the little priest. 

  ‘Shows you I’m blessed it does, to have lived so long as to meet with a red-headed Irish priest named Patrick. And one that looks like the pictures Englishmen draw of Leprechauns, at that. Do tell me, little Paddy O’Winkle, what music hall have you escaped from?’

  ‘I’m not long out of Trinity College, Dublin, sent here to the mission field to do God’s work.’

  ‘I’d not been told God was so short-handed. Jesuit, right?’

  ‘Proudly so.’

   ‘You all are, and ‘tis that pride will one day be your undoing, as it was once before.’

  ‘I’m to see Lettie O’Hagan.’

  ‘I’m doubting she’ll want to see you. It’s the old priest she always asks for.’

‘Father Dowd is ill and asked me to come in his place.’ 

‘Through there, down the hall, last door on the left.’  

  The priest followed the directions, and as he neared the last door on the left, near the end of the hallway, only a few steps and another doorway lay between himself and the old man._


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## Jon Prosser (Nov 3, 2011)

i would like to read more of this piece, i love the choice of words. "a neighbour, meaning to do well..." - it is not necessary for the reader to know the neighbours motives but the fact that you chose to include it and how it's written in is brilliant. there is a spelling error in the very last line: 'Granfa, please don't go', and also i would rephrase the sentence "The priest who came was not the young priest, who talked little of God but much of life, and who had cheered with his talk the last days of the woman the old man had loved from his youth." the sentences syntax is wrong, in that the subject of the 'young' priest is unrelated to what the sentence is getting to and the sentence's subject is separated further by the paragraph break. it should be "the priest _that came _was not the young priest - that spoke of so and so - but the old priest that spoke of so and so".
asides from this, i really like the piece, it's style and narrative. it hooked me in right away, and the specificity of the information you put across really gave me a sense of questions that i wanted answered.


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## garza (Nov 5, 2011)

Jon Prosser - Thank you very much for your comments. 

The 'spelling error' you see is short for grandfather, just as grandma is short for grandmother. My maternal grandfather, on whom the old man is modeled, was from Belfast, and granfa was what I called him while he lived and how I continue to remember him. It's a not-uncommon term in the North.

The two sentences talking about the priests are deliberately structured as they are. They echo a conversation in the middle of the story between the old man and the young priest. 

_‘And how is your wife today?’

‘It’s of her I want to speak, Patrick, of her and of another matter. The doctor holds out little hope my wife will see the summer. I want to say that while I don’t believe any of your faith, she believes all of it, and if her belief gives her comfort then I’ve no complaint. Your visits seem to brighten her days more than the visits of the old priest.’

‘Father Dowd is old himself, in ill health, and thinks mostly of death. I’m young. I must seem like a child to you. And that’s what I am to your wife. A priest, yes, but also a child who sees life and not death. She knows she’s dying, but she also knows she’s lived a good life, and it’s about her life we talk, not her death.’_

Another point is that as I learn to write fiction, I've put aside the reporter style and have begun to write the way I speak. 'Tis an echo again, this time of my grandfather's way of expressing himself. 

The 'other matter' the old man speaks of provides the conflict in the story, and also the title.

I've not settled my mind on whether to post all the story. Any further comments about these bits would be welcomed. Fiction is a new game for me.


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## Jon Prosser (Nov 5, 2011)

Ah I'm sorry, I didn't realise it was dialect. I re-read the sentence and it makes more sense now. It isn't that I didn't understand what you were trying to say, more that the structure of the sentence was slightly confusing. I think it may be worth breaking up the sentence with semi-colons or dashes just to make it more readable. The trouble with writing the way people speak is of course that in real speech, we are far less concise and clear. You still need to be sure of the balance between realism and clarity, although I think this excerpt is fine in that sense. If the story is a short one, by all means post it, because as you've said, this certain part has echo's to previous parts of the story that your readers won't have seen yet.


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## Bilston Blue (Nov 5, 2011)

> One day in February, the coldest day of that year, the old man died. A neighbour, meaning to do the right thing, sent for a priest when the struggle to live was near over. The priest who came was not the young priest who talked little of God but much of life, and who had cheered with his talk the last days of the woman the old man had loved from his youth. *The priest who came was the old priest, near as old as the old man himself.*
> 
> The old priest talked of death and hell and repentance, none of which the old man believed. To die was certain, but death was a blank, a nothing, and as there was no hell, there was never a need for repentance, certainly no need to beg forgiveness from a God he believed in no more than he believed in hell.



Hi Garza

Following on from Jon's comments on structure, in the two paragraphs I've outlined above I've made a couple of alterations to replicate how I think I would have written it. The first is the simple removal of the first comma in the third sentence. It's purely preference, naturally, though I believe the sentence flows better without it. Secondly, I've moved the first sentence of the second paragraph to the end of the first, as I think it's a natural continuation of what has been said in the first. Then, the second paragraph begins with a new subject, what the priest spoke of after his arrival.

These are only nits. 

I would happily read this story, Garza, for the writing alone. It's as crisp as leaves on a frosty lawn. If the story's as good as the style then I really look forward to reading the whole.

BB


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## nerot (Nov 5, 2011)

I will leave the suggetions for possible changes to others.  

For me, it reads very well and the dialect allows me to "hear" the characters talk; they are alive and I have a sense of who they are.  

I hope that you will post more of the story because I am intriqued by what I have read so far.  Nicely done.


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## River (Nov 16, 2011)

Just bravo! You captured me.


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## River (Nov 16, 2011)

I'm going to make another comment, I think you should write fiction, you are a natural.


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## IgorS (Dec 28, 2011)

I like it. Watch those commas.


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## bazz cargo (Oct 1, 2012)

Hi G'man,
I'm trawling through your archive. I am unable to pick over your work. I sort of got lost in it. 

The dialect is just enough to flavour it without making it hard to understand. I failed to get any sense of date, but you intimate it is in the 1940s. That gives me a feel for the tension in the air. I can practically touch the old man he is such a strong character.

 I'm quite sure your quest to write fiction is already rewarded. All you need is a project that will fire your creative juices. Whatever it will be, it will certainly be worth reading.
Bazz


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## garza (Oct 2, 2012)

Wow. I'd forgotten that any part of this was ever posted here. The story has been expanded considerably, but the core bits remain the same. Thanks very much for your comments.


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## Wessik (Oct 2, 2012)

Many themes permeate this slender story: The ill-advised intentions of the neighbour, the inevitable change and conflict between the new generations and the old, and the ultimate and equally inevitable reconciliation of the young with the old once the wheel has come full circle.

This is interesting, because two of the themes appear to work well together and reinforce each other's message, while the third theme(indeed, the first theme the reader encounters in the work), seems to distract and distort the clarity of the other two themes. The neighbour's intentions might have been good, and it might be true that the older man is certainly no weeping repentant, but the religious conflict is underdeveloped, aside from that first aside within the first paragraph. Removing the religious conflict would reinforce and make the themes of generational divide and reconciliation less opaque.

With regards to the other two they make themselves clear in the contrast between the old priest and the young priest, who could not be farther apart in their respective approaches to death. On the other hand, the grandson of the old man mourns the loss the longest, and yet refuses to shed a tear. And yet, with the passing of age, the grandson appears to understand his grandfather's point of view, unto the very end, when at long last he expresses fear, both of death, and of the loss of his relative.

In terms of technics, the prose is tight, but I feel there may be some improvements. Take them if they are useful, and discard the rest:



> , but death was a blank, a nothing,and as there was no hell, there was never a need for repentance, certainly no need to beg...



This might be stronger and more forceful if you just stop at "nothing" and emphasize it. Like so:
", but death was a blank. A nothing." The rest of that sentence is beating a dead horse, I believe.

Also, "So the old man died" might be a little to obvious. If you start the paragraph with the next sentence instead, then the reader will have more of a shock at the suddenness of the passing.

Those are my two strongest suggestions.
Thank you for your time.

:edit:
It seems I'm a bit late to the party. Oh ho hum. :???:


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## Jo Tampoco (Oct 12, 2012)

I really like this sort of stuff - the warmth of the characterisation, and work-a-day setting contrasting with the feeling that some deep and possibly disturbing issues are going to be faced in due course, or at least, that's what I'm expecting. Have you read Give us this Day, by Jonathan Tulloch?
I for one believe in the 'creative' use of punctuation and syntax, and that they should be in the service of the writer, not vice-versa. That said, there is something slightly off about that line "The priest who came was not the young priest, who talked little of God..." Commas can be tricky...
Otherwise I had no difficulty understanding what you meant to say, technically correct or not. 
I also assumed that first passage was the beginning of the story rather than the end, like a flash-forward (what's the right word for that? A lot of books employ it as a device), and looking at it, i still think it could be, and that simple line "A neighbour, meaning to do the right thing, sent for a priest" is exactly the thing.


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## Rilto (Oct 20, 2012)

Really, really nice. I would love to read more.


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## headagainstthesky (Oct 20, 2012)

Interesting.


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## garza (Oct 20, 2012)

Thank you, all of you, for taking the time to read these bits, and thanks for your comments. The first part, the grandmother breaking her hip, is the beginning of the main part of the narrative which has now expanded considerably. There are flashbacks to Belfast, Dublin, and the Irish community in New Orleans. The internal conflict with the old man's infatuation with the housekeeper running counter to his lifelong love for his wife is what drives the story. Here's how he takes the news of his wife's death. Remember now, he's an atheist.

_The doctor came onto the porch. The old man sat where he had been all morning.
'I'm sorry John,' said the doctor. 'She's gone.'
'Oh dear God. Lettie. Dear Jesus.'
Father O'Donnel stood, made as if to speak, and walked into the house. The doctor followed. The old man pulled off his hat and held it to his chest. He didn't move from the chair. He closed his eyes and wept. 
_
The weeping is part sorrow, part guilt. The scene that's giving me the most trouble is the grandfather saying goodbye to the housekeeper as she's getting on a train to go back to New Orleans. I've rewritten it a dozen times and can't get it the way I want it. One day I may post the complete story, if it's not too long and I can ever get the dialogue right in that one scene.


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## kitsunescholar (Nov 20, 2012)

The dialect is well done.  That is not an easy feat to do.


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## The Rust on the Razor (Nov 21, 2012)

Hello. I love the character of Cora- her few words of dialogue above tell us such a lot about her already. Wit, strength, composure, judgement- in just a couple of lines. I'm looking forward to reading more.


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## Duncan (Dec 7, 2012)

Yes, this is wonderful and it would be good to read the whole story or more of it.  

"certainly no need to beg forgiveness from a God he believed in no more than he believed in hell." I'm not sure about this but that is largely because I haven't read the story end to end. My instinct would be to cut everything after "God" as the old man's lack of faith or refusal of faith or his struggles _with_ faith--whatever his variant on the human condition turns out to be--I have no doubt that you will have amply demonstrated that by the point of his death.

It's excellent work and I'd love to read it through


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## Ariel (Dec 13, 2012)

I had no problem with reading this as written.  It is very interesting.  I thought the first bit posted read like a very short story and I found it hit harder that way.  Perhaps try linked short stories--I don't know.


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## Trilby (Jan 10, 2013)

^^I too though the first post was a short story and I enjoyed it as a stand alone piece (it has a hook a middle and a satisfying end). Now I know different, it does work well as a conclusion to a longer piece. It is a heartfelt piece of writing that I am sure most people will be able to identify with.
Well done, I would be interested in reading the full story.


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## Mr MTS (Jan 11, 2013)

I liked the pace of this story. It never dwelled on one idea for too long, keeping it flowing. The idea about the priest and the old man as they conflide in each other, was brave. There were addge tension with these characters as the old man never believed in God. 

This is short and powerful.


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