The Sunset - A Review

[Antonio the Sixth]

Yes, this is a shameless ripoff of Al's masterpiece. Obviously I'm not deluded enough to believe that I can even approach his level of greatness, and I have no intention to try to compete in that realm. Essentially, Al's review just made me realize that writing a "serious" review seemed like a a lot of fun, so I'm giving it a try.

I'm gonna review Scott's The Sunset. Just to be clear, Scott, I'm going to try being a lot more harsh than I usually am, because the exercise requires it. When people ask me to comment on something they've done, I usually try to be objective, but I'm inclined to present things in the most positive way possible. Reviewing requires a good deal of brutality and cynicism which I don't have naturally. So please Scott, don't take this personally, I could have reviewed anything else in the same style.

All right, let's do this.


The Sunset

     The poster Scott, from the Atlas Forum, submitted The Sunset, an excerpt of the novel he intends to write. Although it might be unfair to review such a piece outside of its context, this remains the only thing of Scott's planned novel that has been revealed to the public. I have thus no choice but to examine it as a stand-alone pieces, with the obvious caveats that this involves.

     The Sunset tells a rather simple story. We have only two settings - first a short discussion in a house, then a walk in the wilderness - and three characters - Marty and Fanny, two college-aged friends, and Fanny's father, Mr. Travis. The plot initially revolves around an altercation that Marty and Mr. Travis seem to have had some time earlier, apparently arising from a misunderstanding. The misunderstanding is cleared, Marty and Mr. Travis exchange some small talk while Fanny stays silent, and then the two adolescents go out for a walk. Marty offers to take his friend to a nearby lake where he used to go as a kid, and they end up sitting there until (you guessed it) the sunset.

     Fundamentally, this is not a bad work. The writing is pretty smooth, at no point it sounds silly, unnatural, contrived, or forced out. The author has cautiously avoided indulging in the grandiloquent prose that makes so many attempts at writing completely unreadable. He seems to understand that using big, complicated words is not a form of art, and this is appreciable. There is no over-the-top drama, no grandiose tirades detailing how good or bad something is. The author realizes that it's better to write too little than too much, he has learned some basic restraint. This is undoubtedly a form of discipline that will help him if he keeps pursuing a literary career. So, overall, there is no glaring mistake in the basic structure of the story.

     So, the most basic technical requirements for good writing are met. The key question then is: what do we get from reading this piece? As I said already, The Sunset is supposed to be just a chapter, so obviously we should not expect to see more than the small part of the plot. But there is an awful lot that a good author can do in one chapter. Especially if this excerpt is intended as a sort of "advertisement" to get readers interested in the novel, we should expect to find at least a few hints of an engaging story. Sadly, The Sunset falls short of these expectations - and that's putting it mildly. After reading the excerpt, I still have little idea what this novel is supposed to tell me.

     First off, let us examine the characters. From the focus that the third-person narrator puts on Marty's viewpoint, we deduce that he must be the protagonist. Of him, we learn that he is a longtime friend of Fanny's, that he got roughed up by Fanny's father "when [he] saw [his] truck outside [his] house there that day" (that's all we'll know of this incident), that he goes to College, and that he used to go walk near a lake as a kid. And... that's it. Nothing more. His personality? We might get a glimpse of it when the narrator describes his thoughts on Fanny (I will get back to that) but it remains minimal. Marty is clearly shy and non-confrontational. And sweet, since he likes watching sunsets, treats his "friend" with the utmost respect, and is writing a book.

     Even without that last clue, it is hard to chase away the suspicion that Marty is a stand-in for the author himself. If so, it is all the more baffling how little characterization he is given. Although in some way, this might actually make sense - for several reasons. First, a good character needs to be colorful, and, let's face it, real-life people rarely colorful enough to do the deal. A good author knows how to distill the most salient traits out of real individuals, and exploit them to create a character who goes beyond the narrow frontiers of reality. Second, even if the author actually is fascinating enough to fit in a fictional world, he or she is hardly the right person to operate that transition. Human beings are naturally self-centered - from our perspective, the world seems to revolve around us. When we write ourselves in fiction, then it is only expected that the plot itself will revolve around us, making of the character in question a Mary Sue. No need to have the story define him/her, he/she defines the story! Fictionalized autobiography seems to be the big fad of these days, especially among non-professional writers. Well, as you may have guessed, I don't think very highly of this genre. Sorry for the digression.

     Back to The Sunset. The second most important character is clearly Fannie, the center of Marty's attention, and, in all likelihood, romantic feelings. This is never clearly stated, as Marty's most intimate thoughts about her are described as such: "He would have liked to truly get to know her, but she seemed too perfect. Too innocent. Too kind. It was enough that they were friends." And... this is all we will know about her. Literally. Not a single sentence is spent helping us figure out anything about her personality. Her role in the plot is mostly to go along with everything that happens: she stays silent when daddy and Marty talk, then she follows Marty and hears what he has to tell her (not much, mind you). Seriously? If this character is actually going to be so important to the protagonist, she will sure as hell need some personality! How can you write a book revolving around the interaction of two characters who are just so empty?

[Antonio the Sixth]

     To complete the trio, we have a character who is both the least important and the most developed: Mr. Travis. The author actually does a fairly decent job at conveying his defining traits without being needlessly verbose. But is it worth it, if everything it conveys is so thoroughly unappealing? Daddy Travis is basically the quintessential southern redneck. Dirty? Check. Slovenly? Check. Quick-tempered? Check. Alcoholic? Check. Fat? Check. He obviously speaks in a thick Southern accent: "Though, from my experience, y’all learn a helluva lot more in the service than you ever will in one of them ‘ole classrooms, y’know?" Of course, he's a conservative patriot, proud of having fought "the good war" in his youth. And to top it all, it's heavily implied that he's sleeping around, or, as he puts it, "getting too close with one of the gals at [his] job". Why does he have to be so awful? To be honest, the feeling of sheer contempt from the author that reeks through this character is rather disturbing. I mean, there's nothing wrong with satirizing some awful traits that some people happen to have, but is do you really have to pile up so harshly? Again, this is especially weird because this guy is the only one in this story who is given proper characterization.

     So, beyond the characters, what kind of story is The Sunset trying to tell us? Well, once again, the reader is left wondering. Sure, there are some heavy clues that the heart of the intrigue will be romantic. Marty clearly feels something for this girls, although he hasn't exactly figured out what. He appreciates her company, but seems to want something more. Or does he? He never wishes anything bolder than "to truly get to know her". Now, I know that any romantic intrigue has to slowly build up the blooming feelings, taking the characters through different stages as they gain awareness of their desires. But how can you hope to get us interested with so little? The paucity of actual romantic subtext seems particularly off considering the setting. There are two friends who seem to have known each other for a while, who are young, and who - seriously - are sitting by a lake to watch the friggin' sunset! How can you not have something more go on in a scene like that? At the end of the chapter, they simply go back to the house, where Fanny utters these bold words: “Thank you. I had fun.” Talk about a letdown.

     There is little indication of where the plot might go from there. Where is the conflict? Any form of drama needs a conflict (be it between characters, within a character, between a character and an abstract concept or a situation...). But in The Sunset, nothing indicates that anything like that will arise. Since we have no idea who Fanny is, we can't tell how she will react if Marty eventually comes to terms with his feelings. Marty's feelings themselves do not provide a conflict, since they are barely even mentioned. Come on, you are telling me that you devolved five miserable lines to what is supposed to be the central issue of your plot? Besides, what good can come out of a plot that revolves entirely around a character not being able to spit it out? Come on, you've got to have more than that!

     And right after these lines, you get this quasi-surrealistic passage: "And Fanny lay next to him,on her back, and she was brought back to her hometown. Everything was just like this, except that instead of a deck, it was a grassy hill, and instead of Marty, it was her old sweetheart, Jed, lying right next to her." What are we supposed to gather from that passage? Have we shifted to an alternate reality? OK, I understand, Fanny seems to be reminiscing of the time spent with a guy called Jed. Fair. But what is this passage supposed to show us? That Fanny is torn between Marty and Jed? Nothing alike is conveyed by her utter lack of a personality. That she think of Marty as nothing but a friend? Then why this damn setting! That she is mixing up the two guys in her head? Uh, maybe, I guess. In any case, the reader is left with no clue regarding what this is supposed to mean, or if it's supposed to mean anything at all. OK, maybe we can reasonably expect a romantic triangle to pop up at some point. But was it really the right way to introduce it?

     Even more fundamentally, there is absolutely nothing in this excerpt that makes us care about where the plot might go from there. Why should I give a damn for Marty, for Fanny, or anyone else? Considering the two main characters are such nonentities, what's the matter if they get together or not? They don't seem like they would be significantly affected either way. And it doesn't seem like anyone has any motivation to do something that might drive the plot further. Maybe the rest of the book, if it existed, would surprise, creating some tension and some interesting situations that will allow the characters to develop their personalities. But it is really hard to infer that from the excerpt that Scott has provided us.

     As I wrote at the beginning, the technical aspect of the writing is all right. Every sentence works properly and exactly as it should - except that all this produces nothing. In this story, nothing happens. We learn nothing about anything. I have no idea how Scott's novel (if he manages finishing it) will turn out, but one thing is for sure: if anything of it will be remembered, it probably won't be this chapter.

[Antonio the Sixth]

Anyone?

[King]

Too long, bro.

[Antonio the Sixth]

Too long, bro.

I guess so... Talk about an epic flop. I really put a lot of energy (and malice) into it.

[Simfan34]

You did it incorrectly. The point, and the only point, of what Al did was to excoriate R2D2, and nothing more.

[Antonio the Sixth]

You did it incorrectly. The point, and the only point, of what Al did was to excoriate R2D2, and nothing more.

I don't think this is true. I think what Al's goal was to have fun by pointing our how bad Jake's piece was - as in, not only the degree to which it is bad, but also the manner in which it is. That was, more or less, also my purpose in this review. I might have gone over for too long about this, but I don't think I missed the point of the exercise.

[Paul Kemp]

Should've let Al do it, tbh.

[Foucaulf]

Foucaulf's review of Antonio's review of Scott's "The Sunset"

Criticism, applied to a piece intended to be taken seriously, usually takes less time to produce than the piece. In the case where the piece is already of little merit, the criticism will likely be ignored even more than the piece. Recognition of the problem would lead someone to spice up their criticism with flair, an exaggerated incomprehension of what made the piece possible. It is too bad most, Antonio included, does not realize the problem.

What criticism in this review - and how much is there to criticize that isn't immediately obvious? - tries too hard to be funny. Consider the following paragraph:

You must be logged in to read this quote.

The joke is that the characters are unrealistic and wooden; this much is obvious. Yet Antonio feels the need to lecture on what "conflict" means and justify his claim that there is no conflict in the story. Near the end the style becomes almost pleading, as if Antonio realizes himself he is overexplaining things, begging himself to believe he needs all this verbiage.

Egoism permeates this review, as if we haven't had enough of that given the review's object is a vanity project. Antonio's relentless formalist analysis seems more to convince the reader that he is smarter than Scott and a better writer. But the problem is not that Scott is dumb, or of intelligence in general: it is about what possesses someone to write bad prose and think others will care.

[Antonio the Sixth]

Hey now, let's not take things too far! I've never wanted to say Scott is dumb (in fact I think we're in good terms and I made it clear in the OP that nothing in this review should be taken personally). And the excerpt isn't nearly as awful as I make it out to be (though I think the points that I mention are worth addressing). Yes, I know I've been ridiculously pedantic, judgmental and gone to great lengths for no purpose - but that's because I've tried to bend myself to the stylistic conventions of the genre. I wasn't trying to rival Al or anything, just to see how far I could go in this type of writing.

But thanks anyway for taking the time to read and re-review it.

[Ban my account ffs!]

[Morning in Atlas]

How disgustingly laughable.

[Snowstalker Mk. II]

Brevity is the soul of wit.

[Antonio the Sixth]

Uh, no. Your reading comprehension skills fail you once again.

[Ban my account ffs!]

Uh, no. Your reading comprehension skills fail you once again.

Yeah, it's my reading what's the problem. Not your writing or intention.

[Antonio the Sixth]

Uh, no. Your reading comprehension skills fail you once again.

Yeah, it's my reading what's the problem. Not your writing or intention.

My intention was to write a review in the style reviews are usually written - nothing more, nothing less. You can legitimately argue that I failed, but I'd appreciate if you could at least avoid implying that I'm in bad faith.

[Ban my account ffs!]

Yeah. You were writing an honest, good hearted critique of Scott's story... Which itself is universally panned.  I think thou dost play the innocent angel a bit too much for the little devil that you are.

[Antonio the Sixth]

Yeah. You were writing an honest, good hearted critique of Scott's story... Which itself is universally panned.  I think thou dost play the innocent angel a bit too much for the little devil that you are.

What the hell is wrong with you? I made it clear in the f**king OP that I was going to be a dick and that was the whole point of the exercise. I wanted to try out writing in that sort of style, as if I were a random reviewer and Scott's piece a random writing. Because I honestly don't think a random reviewer would have been any nicer than I was. That's the only reason. Why in the world do you assume I had some evil mischievous intention based on a personal vendetta against Scott or something?