The Matchstick Girl

[Delta40]

:nopity:
Can you hear something? That scratchy, whiney sound of your pitifulness? No? Thought not. I guess the music gets sorta drowned out by his bellowing at me. Not that I mind bellows. I use matches to light fires though. The first match has already gone out but he says nothing. I think, but I can't be sure, bellows fanned the flames of a fire in the olden days. You know, when everything was in black and white. People seemed blurred and faded round the edges so you could never quite know who they were. Perhaps that's why his bellowing reminds me so much of blurred vision, raging hot temper and finally, that weeping violin as I huddle at the hearth thankful that it has passed. At least for tonight. I'm pleased, exhausted but mainly relieved that I am here. I'm not really there yet though. I'm just imagining it. It will take at least another three matches before I can breathe a little easier without hearing my heart pound in my ears.

The second match flickers out and I know I am a step closer to The Calm. I dream of that point where I listen to him snore softly in his armchair as I shiver out fear and tension into the same fireplace that warms his thick calloused fists. This calm is all I pray for in life. It is the pre-calm that I cannot bear. The suspense of losing control looming upon me, stifling my entire being. The old dresser on the left, the sofa on the right seem like they are moving inwards. Gradually sucking out any promise that I will know peace without conflict. With this impending thought, I spill the box and nervously try a third match.

While my shaking hand tries to light the tinder, his ominious silence wraps itself round me like a death grip. I can smell its presence. Oppressive, like dark clouds gathering, I sense the change in him, in the atmosphere. His furrowed brow, curling fist, tightened lips. I feel him lick them in anticipation. The match flickers briefly but my yearning hope puffs it out as quickly as it was lit. Do you think I don't know what is coming?

I care. I really do. This place, where he slowly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as I falter under his watchful gaze is more painful than the red hot sparks that dazzle my vision as I hit the dresser like a rag doll.

You readers might not understand. Perhaps you really can hear my soppy violin music over your own from the safety of your home. :nopity:

I don't want your pity though. I've got enough of my own. He is like a potboiler about to blow his top. The eruption is bubbling deep in his chest. Any moment now as I fumble for the fourth match, he may explode and experience tells me, I am on my last chance. The last chance to stop being so ****ing stupid and light a goddam fire.

It is all too much and I scream in my mind 'Hit me will you! For God's sake just do it!' I want you to get it over with so I can find that calm place again. It's so overpowering. Waiting. The clock on the mantle counts down the minutes that I must endure his build up. Tick, tock, tick, tock till I want to hurl it across the room, shatter it into pieces so he will do something. Anything! Just end it - now! He keeps still like a cat watching a mousehole enjoying my suffering. Seeing me pale in his presence. I have to end this apprehension. If I could stab it with a dagger, I would but there is nothing but a thick, suffocating feeling. There is only one way. Only one way to bring about the calm I so desperately seek.

As I strike the fourth match, I blow it out.

[PrinceMyshkin]

I read this with a mixture of great respect for the clarity of your prose and on the other hand the feeling that I didn't really understand the situation, the relationship of the matches to "the bellows" - indeed whether there was an actual bellows or this was a metaphor for the antagonist's personality.

I'll be back to see what interpretations if any others make.

[bortleman]

As I strike the fourth match, I blow it out.

He used to just put a belt, a stick, and a wrench on the kitchen table and say, "Choose."

Well, I gotta go with the belt there.

I used to go with the wrench.

Why?

Cause f*ck him, that's why.


The only quibble I have is I thought at the end you drew too much attention away from the tension. The descriptors, I think, would have been better if you would have made them more subtle while keeping us in the action. I loved the way it ended though.

[Jack of Hearts]

A very subtle thing to pick up on, Queen Kookaburra.

As far as bellows, the protagonists seems to be contemplating their role in starting (more specifically, maintaining) a fire... and also noticing the homonym for what her abusive husband does at her poor ears. The protagonist doesn't seem to realize the actual nature of what bellows do but seems to consider them as an alternative to working with matches (which she cannot do effectively, which she considers her reason for being abused. Bellows, whatever they are to her, could possibly her salvation? Pitiful because the reality is that they are in fact no substitute for matches). Perhaps her 'maintaining the fire' is a metaphor for her being the one to put effort into and salvage their relationship.

An exhibition of learned helplessness but also (to return to the subtleness) the statement that the apprehension itself can be far worse than the apprehended event itself, especially when the apprehension is manifested as nothing short of psychological abuse.

The piece is fine but one senses an opportunity for depth was squandered- yes women are trapped in these relationships with chauvinistic and abusive men, and yes they are made to be submissive against their wills and that's a major human rights issue. But as literature in the 21st century, it's a fair critique to say that your 'man' in this piece is a caricature or a stereotype (and to a far lesser extent, the woman too). What is lacking is either a nuance in the characters or a nuance in their relationship.

Having just typed that and re-read it, this reader would see it mostly as a comment in the vein of personal taste. Maybe there are readers out there who like seeing the same issues explored in the same way (the exception and redemption in your piece being the careful treatment of the subtle psychological element), or feel the issue hasn't been socialized enough.

As a final note, this reader remembers studying cycles of domestic abuse in lower division psychology classes and 'the calm' and 'the pre-calm' are as fascinating as they are very 'real' (in the sense there are psychological models and expressions of them, anyways).


J

[PrinceMyshkin]

He used to just put a belt, a stick, and a wrench on the kitchen table and say, "Choose."

Well, I gotta go with the belt there.

I used to go with the wrench.

Why?

Cause f*ck him, that's why.


The only quibble I have is I thought at the end you drew too much attention away from the tension. The descriptors, I think, would have been better if you would have made them more subtle while keeping us in the action. I loved the way it ended though.

I don't understand where you got this bit of narrative. Perhaps you or Delta might explain?

[bortleman]

It's a quote from good will hunting

[Delta40]

I really don't know how to respond to some of the comments. I'm sure nobody considers DV the same old same old. I wrote this piece as it is what it is, regardless of the period in which it exists.

I'm not sure what you mean about stereotyping the characters. Does it matter whether she is in 18th century or 21st century? what has changed when it comes to violence?

[Jerrybaldy]

My over riding thought for your character and all womanhood was just walk away. Wonderfully written though Delta and I know the ease of my answer from my living room is all too easy .

[Delta40]

Why doesn't he just walk away?

[Jack of Hearts]

Delta,

This reader, in hindsight, would rescind much of his previous commentary as it both dwells too strongly in personal preference and also oversteps it's boundaries a bit in the sense it is too eager to assume the role of artist rather than audience.


As it stands, a fine piece that handles psychological elements deftly.




J

[Delta40]

Thanks JoH