My mother, Nora Hefnawy lay nestled in a fort of blankets and pillows facing the television, where she watched America’s Funniest Home Videos. After what seemed to have been a long day at the bank where she works, all she wanted to do was watch people being launched off of bikes and into lakes, singing cats, and people falling down stairs, from the safety and warmth of her living room. She was, and remains to be aware of how much my father, Zach, hated this show.
“I get stressed watching disasters happen. And when I get stressed, I just want to go to sleep. So, why don’t I just go to sleep instead?” He said, one evening after passing through the living room.
“But Azooz, [his Egyptian nickname] it’s really great. Really, just watch a little, look at the baby screaming!” Overcome with hilarious joy, there seems to be nothing that can stop her enjoyment...
My sister, Erica, is everything that I am, but in a thirteen year old, lanky Afro-haired body. On the walls of her lofted bedroom are several posters of Justin Bieber. Every night before her 9:30 bedtime, she goes through what seems to be her entire closet, to find an outfit for the next day. However, on this particular night, one crucial part of her wardrobe is missing: her favorite “butter” tank-top. (The “butter” tank-top is just like any other, but it simply hugs the body in a skin-tight fashion, and has a soft texture much like spandex leggings.) This infuriates her, and while she paces the length of her tiny bedroom, she slowly begins to realize that the tank-top must still be in the laundry.
I said that Erica is everything that I am, but I forgot to mention that there’s one thing she has, which I don’t have: the prized Egyptian ability to scream like someone is being killed. Come to think of it, most of the inhabitants of my household have that uncanny ability to call on someones attention from two floors away. My mother, located on the ground floor of our house, my sister, on the top floor, (technically third floor) proceeded to have what we consider in our household to be a normal conversation between two entirely opposite floors.
“MOM!!!!!!!!!! WHERE IS MY BUTTER TANK-TOP?! I TOLD YOU IT WAS STILL CLEAN!!!!” She says.
“ERICA, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU ASK ME ONE MORE TIME ABOUT YOUR BUTTER TANK-TOP...[some assumed swear word in incomprehensible Arabic] I WILL MAKE SURE YOU NEVER SEE IT AGAIN,” Mom responds.
“BUT MOM!!!!! I NEEEED IT MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE!!!” Erica says.
“YOU’RE SUCH A GRANDMA, YOU DON’T NEED IT YOU HAVE 5 MILLION OTHER TANK TOPS AND I DO ALL YOUR LAUNDRY ALL THE TIME, BE THANKFUL YA KHARA,” Mom responds.
“Khara” (pronounced, kha-rA) is the equivalent to our English translation of poop. It generally has a negative connotation, but in the Hefnawy household, it is thrown around like any other normal word.
My mother is not pleased as she continues to watch America’s Funniest Home Videos. She’s especially displeased because she’s been going on all these Arabic-English rants lately, about how no one appreciates her in the house. Erica, the antithesis of her argument, at 13-years old, thinks she’s older than everyone else, and doesn’t always see the good that my mother has done. One can only hope that in time, that will change, but for now, I continue to suffer through the screaming conversations that will take place between the two of them.
Overall, 'Normal Conversations' a good rough draft with the potential to be a very interesting piece describing a family's dynamic, but some excellent characters and situations are hampered by awkward construction.
ReplyDeleteIt's very difficult to copy another writer's style while telling your own story. You capture Batuman's chatty, informal observation quality, but without her academic remove. In fact, I think that a bit slightly more removed narrator in this story would give the reader a better look at the way the family is structured.
Mostly, the issue in 'Normal Conversations' is the construction. It feels like two stories that don't quite fit together. The first three paragraphs, which focus on the mother Nora, transition somewhat abruptly into the bulk of the story, focusing on the sister and her tank tops. However, I find the mother to be a fascinating character with a lot of comedic possibilities, while the sister comes off as rather one-dimensional, a 'bratty teen'.
I'm very interested in the tension between the mother and father, which is left unresolved in this piece. Why are two people with such different sensibilities married, what keep them together and what other areas of their life does this conflict seep into? I would recommend expanding upon their relationship. What is a 'normal conversation' for them?
It seems as though the mother rules the house- she completely dismisses her husband and daughter's concerns and keeps glued to the tv- no one challenges her authority. Her authority, engaging personality, and crass sensibility makes Nora a good choice to be the story's focus. She's in her chair, trying to watch AFHV, and fending off distractions, and this situation can introduce us to the various characters and how they interact with her. I would either make the mother's relationship with her daughter the exclusive focus of the story or (I think the more interesting option) spend more time describing the mother and her relationship with her husband to give a more rounded look at the household your narrator lives in.
Also, the ALL CAPS dialogues is reminiscent of one of Batuman's characters, but if you're going to use caps to indicate shouting, the multiple exclamation points are superfluous.
I think that these characters and this scene are wonderful material, and if organized and expanded upon it would make an excellent portrait of an unusual family dynamic.