Tuesday, February 03, 2009

Zhang-Style Story: Womonical Woes

This story was dictated by Mr. Devonshireham to Mr. Kessler under the instruction of Mr. Matthias who was informed by the sacred scripture of the Timmaraque, yea, that didde root from the apricots, and the beets, and the yams, and the lambs, and the sheep, and the goats, and the cows, and the peas, yea, for thatte was how it was related to Mr. Kessler, from Mr. Devonhamshop, from Mr. Matthias, and yea, were they all at the time under the influence of sickness, being composed of the malarial type, and also of the liquors, and the hashish, and the debaucheries, for yea, they were a sordid and foul lot. And itte was good.

Yea, did a young man (who was totally not Mr. Zhang) venture into the bakery one night; and did he go there to order baked goods, such as the scones, and the danishes, and the lemon-breads, but not of the challah, for yea, he was not a Iewe, who are not he, though he was still not Mr. Zhang; and yea, did he see a woman there, who he referred to as a womon, for reasons unclear to him; and yea, for she was superficially attractive, Mr. Zhang (by which I mean the youngge manne) was immediately infatuated with her; and yea, impelled by this infatuation, did he order the scones, and the danishes, and the lemon-breads, but not the challah, for he was not a Iewe, and then did he move to leave; and yea, did he see another customer speak to the young woman, for there was a queue, and the other man was next in the line; and yea, was this other customer a 'pimp,' and a 'player,' and did he clearly 'hit on her', by the tone of his voice, and the movement of his face, as he ordered his sourdough-bread; and was the young man, who was not an authorial self-insertion, ashamed, for he had lost his womon to another man.

Then, at another time, another man, who may or may not have been the same as the first, or have known him, or have lived in the same place as him, but was still a very thinly disguised Mr. Zhang, did go to classes, for he was a university-man, among the scholarium, and the academians, and the learned-men, and the sages, and the doctors, and the others; and at his classes he did see a young woman, who was superficially attractive, and thus immediately infatuated the young man, who was distracted from the lectures, and the teachings, and the wisdom, for he was staring at the womon's breasts, because he was unsure as to whether they were large, or small, or not there at all, in which case the womon might be a man, which would be strange, and yea, on the midterm, the young man did do poorly, and his grades were low, and his spirits were sad, and he did console himself by staring at the young womon, yea, verily, for it was so.*

Then, in a place, which was not the same place, though it may have been, though it was not, for it was so, a womon, who was of the acquaintance of a young man, of whom no disclaimer need be made, for he was not Mr. Zhang, did reside in a house, or an apartment, or a dormitorium, or a residence hall, or some other location in which a person might live, which possesses doors, and windows, and locks; and a young man did come to that house, for purposes of visitation, and conversation, and intercourse, of either variety that might come to the mind of the young man, for he had seen many deviances, and filthsome-things, and licentiously pornographic images, for he was a young man; and he did consider knocking upon the door, but he was afraid, for he thought that the womon might hate him, as he knew that all womons, and teachers, and professors, and friends, and acquaintances, and enemies, and strangers, and other people, probably did; and he refrained; and yea, did he hear sounds, beyond the door, which might be the sounds of another man, or intercourse of conversation, or intercourse of procreation, or recreation, or other lascivious and foul things, or possibly just creaking floor-boards; and yea, did the young man listen for many an hour; and itte wasse goode.

*This has a number of factual inaccuracies compared to the life of the actual Mr. Zhang: the class in which he spent his time staring at a woman's breasts was the class in which he did well. This is, of course, because the story is certainly about some other young man, who was not Mr. Zhang.

3 comments:

Calvacadeofcats said...

ahhhhh
best post
so happy
yet
so sad

Calvacadeofcats said...

also
who was the bakery womon

Cavalcadeofcats said...

She was an "archetype", representing no particular woman in your life! Just seemed like a David-thing.