“Eventually you ascend the stairs to the street. You think of Plato's pilgrims climbing out of the cave, from the shadow world of appearances toward things as they really are, and you wonder if it is possible to change in this life. Being with a philosopher makes you think.”
- Jay McInerney, Bright Lights, Big City
For this blog entry I am deciding to write a piece of a story in the second person after thumbing through the pages of Bright Lights, Big City which is one of the few novels written in the second person. I am specifically trying to capture the inner monologue that Mc Inerney creates by writing in the second person, to capture that weird notion that you have a very vocal super ego that is telling you what to think and what you are doing. I am trying to establish the footing as being one where the narrator is an all knowing voice in the reader's head that controls what they think and do.
You fucking hate buying pants. It ranks up there with finding a flaming bag of dog shit on your front porch and being chased by a roving band of poop slinging capuchins as being one of the worst things you can go through. Every time you need a new pair, you end up spending hours in the mall trying on different pairs of pants only to find out that the only pair that fits costs 60$. "Fuck me in the beard" you think to yourself as you drive out of the mall's parking lot furious that you aren't coming home with a brand new pair of slacks.
You don't want to put up with that stupidity again so you decide to order a new pair of corduroys off of the Internet. You Google men's pants and press the "I'm Feeling Lucky" button. You are brought to Bonobos', the premier men's pants brand, website. You don't see a tab for corduroys so you click on the pants tab at the top of the page. The computer screen you are looking at displays hundreds of pairs of pants. You read off some of the names of the pants: "El Khakitans", "The Grape Wall of Chino", "Panta Marias", "Captain Planet It", "The Provolone Ranger". "What the fuck is this shit" you think to yourself, feeling as lost, confused, and violated as every kid who grew up in the 80's did when they found out that Pee Wee Herman was caught wanking himself in a porn theater. You are frustrated that you can't find a single pair of corduroys in the midst of all this ridiculousness.
Beaten down and hopeless, you give up on Bonobos and decide to try looking for a pair of cords on Old Navy's website. “Thank the Lord Jesus!" you think to yourself as you find out that they do indeed have cords for sale. You try to add a pair to your cart when it asks you what color do you want. You can get either "Toasty", "Coffee Grounds", or "Barnswallow". "Fuck everything" you say to yourself as you give up on buying pants and relieve your stress by walking out onto the street and punting the first small dog you see.
You have a very humorous voice in your writing. It makes stories easy to keep reading. I can even relate to this story because jeans never fit right; and if they do fit they're too short. It never fails. I'd say you imitate the excerpt very well. It's really interesting to read a story from second person. It makes it seem like I am the person you are talking of, which is a little weird but entertaining. However, I would never punt a dog.
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