Notes on ‘And So, And So’
The radical shift in style that And So, And So underwent is immediately apparent from the opening, stage-setting prose poem, and the stage directions that follow. This story is not really written in prose at all: it is a play, though in some ways it can never be performed.
And So, And So is the product of nearly two months of creative stagnation off the heels of On Magnificent Apostates. I had no earthly idea as to how I could ever follow up what I considered to be my best work, and so, to compensate, I read—a lot. My school work was beginning to subside, and I was left with more free time than I’d hitherto had. My most fruitful influences from this period were Shakespeare’s Hamlet, and Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass. I became enraptured with poetry and stage directions as a narrative device, an obsession that I’d only give a rest after it culminated in Shall My West Hurt Me?’s titular piece.
And So, And So, went through several different transformations before eventually settling into its current state; it was originally the story of a prostitute in Santa Fe who grew sicker and sicker as a result of a tetanus infection she contracted from the blood of her father’s horse. Her father spoke in archaic middle English. I wanted to use this language both to illustrate the removed times in which these characters lived, and yet show that anybody can understand them and feel what they feel. It developed and changed, yes, but this thesis remained at the heart of And So, And So. It became, instead, a play depicting the buildup to the Long Walk, a military campaign led by General James Carleton during the Civil War which systematically killed and displaced the Navajo people from their native land, interning them to a worthless strip of land along the Pecos River, where frequent crop failure and prevalent disease killed thousands. It covers the perspective of Montrose Sr., a Union soldier and Barley Montrose’s father, along with Ivan, his semi-real counterpart, and Wilhelm, who makes a reappearance here.
Somehow, once I got over the intense “writer’s block” (a term I detest and do not believe in, but that’s for another day) I faced from September through October, this story came out quite easily, in a way that I was satisfied and content with on the first go around, an increasing rarity as the collection went on. I was particularly proud of the dialogue—the driving force of the story, really—and how I constructed some base humor, melancholy, and malice within Ivan and Montrose Sr.’s conversations.
As for negatives, upon reflection, two main points come to mind. This was my first time writing anything in this sort of format, and as such, I ran into some issues with how to structure and separate dialogue and stage directions with continuations and the like. This resulted in some pretty strenuous editing due to my inexperience, and even now the story remains structurally flawed. There is also the unavoidable issue of racism, and how my characters express the all too prevalent beliefs inherent to American expansionism in a way that provides gravity and honesty without being gratuitous. Even now, I remain unsure if I actually did this topic justice, but I feel confident that I did my best to treat it with respect.
