Roman à Clef

Hey, geophf, that new story of yours, "Her Transformation" ... it seems like filler, marking time, what's its purpose?

Hm, 'purpose' ... stories with a 'purpose' are called 'roman à clef.' ... is my writing like that? Ever?

Maybe it is, if purpose is to ask: 'what is this thing? this existence? and why am I here it in?'

Isn't that the fundamental question we ask ourselves?

Isn't Esmé asking herself this? Isn't Rosalie, as she suffers this agony, asking herself: 'why me?'

What if the answer isn't one that we like? What do we do with that? Give up?

As for this piece filling the time line ... well, yes, it is.

Don't all stories 'fill [some] time'? Like msr?

This story fills three days ... and then one year in eternity. "You Kept Me Waiting" fills thirty years. "Twilight" fills a couple of years. "Sense and Sensibility" fills a year or so. "Antigone" and "Medea" fill a day. "One Day in the life of Ivan Denisovich" fills ... well, one day.

The Torah fills three thousand years, plus or minus a few billion. The New Add On (Testament) starring our most famous son ("He Was One Of Us" after all) fills in another three hundred.

And the कामसूत्र (Kamasutra) fills a night. Night after night.

So, what is the purpose of a story? What's its point? Hm. Well, instead of asking: "Is this real? Is this literal? Is this true? What's its point?" as modern Christian Bible scholars do, perhaps ask this: "What does this mean for me?" "What do I take away from this?"

What does it mean to be a new mother? What does it mean to be a newborn, still so hurting from the old life? What does it mean to love unconditionally, even if the beloved is a tough case? How about on the receiving end? What does it mean to be beloved, so strongly you can't stand it, because you're dealing with your own stuff, and you don't want anybody else, who loves you with all her heart (and why? just because) to see you at your weakest, ... that is, when you most need love?

Ever been there? If you never have, do you want to risk that kind of love? Knowing there's going to be hurt, too?

Esmé is her name: (unconditional) love. This is Rosalie's transformation, but this is Esmé's story. Why? Because nobody ever cares about Esmé.

I do. She is a person, with a story to tell: I am giving her that venue.

And the thing of it is: although nobody cares about Esmé, she, herself, cares about, and cares for, well, ... everybody.

One of those people is Rosalie, and, perhaps, one way Esmé showed her care for Rosalie is not abandoning her, even during the most difficult period in Rosalie's existence.

Funny how every part of Rosalie's existence is her most difficult part.

Hm. There's a lesson in that for Rosalie somewhere, I'm sure.