Over at Poefrika, Rethabile posts an Ezra Pound definition of an image, and poses a question for his readers.
How do I convey this image? is probably a question most writers of every form or genre of writing have considered. And, what does this image mean? is certainly a good question for the reader to consider as well. I thought about (and puzzled over) the imagery in Wild Maami's opening paragraph as I put together the following letter to Roopnandan Singh (not assuming he'll ever read it, it's really just my explanation why I am not going to read Wild Maami). And I've concluded that I probably need to set some standards for the books I review here. So here goes...
Dear Mr. Singh:
While I myself have never written one line of a novel, much less taken on the task of writing and completing an entire one, as an avid reader, and one who spent way too long studying literature and writing (though without the letters to show for it, much of it was independent study), I do have some idea of what comes across well on the page, and what doesn't. So here's a break-down of what went wrong with your opening paragraph:
A lovely, self conscious, teenaged girl...
Lovely and self-conscious are subjective adjectives. And unless the reader has established trust or some kind of understanding of the narrator, subjective descriptions can be an early turn-off for the reader who'd rather make a decision about the character on his or her own.
sat in front of her wardrobe mirror, and began to wonder whether she was ready for the challenge of the sensual world, her parents often warned her against. She looked into the mirror at her hair-do, a beautiful oval forest of face and hair...
Once again, Mr. Singh, beautiful is subjective, and then you go on to say what beautiful consists of (oval forest of face and hair), which may not be considered a beautiful sight to some. "Oval forest of face and hair" may conjure images of natural abundance, wildness (as one commenter suggested), purity even, but "beautiful" should be left up to the reader to decide, until he or she gets to meet the narrator, and can figure out the tone in which beautiful is being used. Maybe it's meant to be sarcastic. Who knows? At least that would be interesting.
her eyes jumping and springing for sensual adventure, and then she saw the dimples that had often made older men, when she was a child, predict that she would be a beauty that suitors would die for...
Mr. Singh, though I am aware you're speaking figuratively, the image of someone's eyes jumping and springing for sensual adventure is funny. And I may be wrong, but I don't think your intention is to be funny here, is it? If that was your intention, bravo, you sure made me laugh out loud. And then she saw the dimples? She'd never seen then before, Mr. Singh? They are on her face, no?
She looked again, whilst moistening her skin with the cream her uncle had sent her, and was so fearful of her sapodilla-brown complexion, which she thought men of Eurocentric taste would reject...
Maybe, Mr. Singh, she should be fearful of her eyes that "jump and spring" and not her sapodilla-brown skin. Point is, the use of the word fearful here is rather curious. (Not curious enough to make me want to move on from this first paragraph though).
But she continued to put on her make-up, and said to herself that she didn't care--a five-foot girl in an ocean of human opinion.
And finally the last image in your opening paragraph, Mr. Singh. A five-foot girl in an ocean of human opinion may sound good at the family table, or the bar where "ocean" may have a clear frame of reference. Here it's just strange and rather silly.
So Mr. Singh, I apologize, but I can't read on. I have to declare your opening no better than an effort from a C student in my class, and as such not quite worthy of my precious reading time.
Sincerely, and without malice,
c.d.valere