Exercise: Fictionalizing history

burtschips

It was time to leave their home. Their home of seven years; only two small rooms but both with windows. Mr Layden had been their friend, he was a smiler and had gestured with big steady hands asking after their health and their childrens' and their happiness. Their belongings, under a cloth sheet, now sat in a rotten cart.

Mr Layden stood in their street, he had wanted to show himself at least and maybe say something. He did not say anything but he thought sadly and bitterly that he had no choice.

They lifted their cart, one on each side at the front. Their children sat unsmiling on the cart, their legs hanging over the end and made it easier. They faced back toward their home and watched Mr Layden who was ashen and grew smaller.

ISN

Are we all here? I mean is everybody present? No sign of Reynolds yet? (Shuffling of papers and shifting of chairs). Ahem, well, as you all know we are in this room to discuss the small problem of increasing deaths due to the potato blight amongst our neighbours in Ireland. Davis, can you go and hurry Reynolds along, please. It seems that an inordinate amount of our neighbours are falling sick and starving due to the failure of their potato harvest. This is not newsworthy, as we are all aware of the problem, and I might add that the Minister for Ireland, myself and all our colleagues are extremely concerned about this debacle. That is what we are here to discuss, and I want to hear from all those present, especially Reynolds because he has a memorandum from the Minister, detailing how much to divulge to the vultures of Fleet Street (small chuckles, and Spalding fluffed his feathers, and started thinking that he might get a promotion out of this whole situation, if he handled himself well).....but I might remind you (he added, after pausing to let the admiring, mixed with nervous, laughter die down), that the consensus we reach today, must go no further than these four walls, whatever kind of response we give the Press. Reynolds rushes in, breathless, and takes a seat to the right of Spalding, who is visibly relieved. Davis enters unnoticed.

As this is a Treasury Department meeting, you will all be privy to extremely confidential material. Davis, (who was Spalding's kind of retriever dog), please pass out the information. (Davis almost jumps out of his skin, as he had completely switched off, and starts handing out papers to the other people). Spalding continues with more authority....what you see before you is the Treasury's forecast for the next 5 years, taking into account the recent conflagration in Africa, and keeping in mind that situation is not resolved, and also taking into account how over-extended we are in India. Frankly, gentlemen, the Empire is exceedingly stretched currently, and (with all the aplomb of an elephant, he dropped this little gem to those cherry-picked civil servants present), and we have decided to maintain a light approach to the Irish situation, which frankly is their own fault. (Some grimaces met this statement, and more nervousness, but Spalding looked only at Reynolds, who had an expression of strength, which although it gave Spalding some courage, only added to the sense of rivalry with this brilliant underling of his). Reynolds, please enlighten us on the public stance that the Ministry would like to take.

And Reynolds stepped up. The Minister for Her Majesty's Territory of the Island of Ireland, (Hibernia), announces that currently Her Majesty can offer no practical help to Her Irish subjects due to conflicting demands elsewhere in Her Majesty's territories, and has complete faith that those Irish subjects will be able to turn their fortunes around in good time.

Spalding's mouth dropped. He'd seen the figures, thousands dying every day, and this is what the Ministry wanted to offer. He looked around the room, to see the expressions of the heads of department from different Ministries, and realised that this would be a catastrophe. His career might be over, if he ever had one. Reynolds on the other hand, was as solid as a rock, and with a twinge of envy, he realised that Reynolds had that kind of sang froid that would make him a star in the civil service. Davis, of course, was dumbfounded, as was everybody else present. They all thought that they were called to the meeting to discuss measures to alleviate the problem in Ireland, but it seemed a blind eye was the order of the day. Spalding trying to recover his composure, said 'well, that's it boys.....there you have it......no need to extend the meeting any longer, when we have the word from the top, but, please, not a word to the Press, except for the official dictum.....

(I am completely plagiarising The Constant Gardener which I'm reading right now in tone etc......don't worry kids......I don't steal money, I only steal lines )

ISN

bump.....Finsbubble, how did we do?

FinsburyParkCarrots

I like the voice and the stage directions, ISN, plagiarism or no plagiarism!

I want to see some more attempts at this from people! Then I'll put mine up, but not before.

ISN

thanks Fins - I didn't know how I'd deal with the challenge, but then it occurred to me to copy the style in the book - I'm hopeless with prose......

dunkman

We had nae tatties between 1845 and 1849. At ten to seven though Da would come home wearing his Guinness shoes and he would have the tatties for us.

Da always danced funny in his Guinness shoes and he would makes us laugh by telling us that Ma looked better when he was wearing his Guinness goggles. But Ma was always quick with the tongue though and told Da that the only thing he would get tonight was a piece of her cold shoulder. We had no idea what cold shoulder was, but it sounded nice. Any food sounded nice though.

All my friends kept going to heaven and it was because they needed some dinner. If only Ma had enough cold shoulder, then everyone would have been alright.




p.s. written in the same time it'll take you to read it...so you don't have to tell me how pish it is.... don't phone its just for fun

FinsburyParkCarrots

dunkman1974 wrote:

We had nae tatties between 1845 and 1849. At ten to seven though Da would come home wearing his Guinness shoes and he would have the tatties for us.

Da always danced funny in his Guinness shoes and he would makes us laugh by telling us that Ma looked better when he was wearing his Guinness goggles. But Ma was always quick with the tongue though and told Da that the only thing he would get tonight was a piece of her cold shoulder. We had no idea what cold shoulder was, but it sounded nice. Any food sounded nice though.

All my friends kept going to heaven and it was because they needed some dinner. If only Ma had enough cold shoulder, then everyone would have been alright.

p.s. written in the same time it'll take you to read it...so you don't have to tell me how pish it is.... don't phone its just for fun

I must admit I laughed out loud at that one. It reminds me of a dirty story my Dad likes to tell me about the old days in Mayo, "and makin' prick holes in the bog to keep warm". Cheers.

dunkman

FinsburyParkCarrots wrote:

"and makin' prick holes in the bog to keep warm". Cheers.

Nice!!!

Its a shame that the typed sentence can't convey the warmth and humour of the Irish accent....

FinsburyParkCarrots

Bumping this up. Any more takers?