Writing The Return of Persephone [E]

[Lady Asphyxia]

[size=1]A story I had to write for English in the first semester. I had to write a story to a theme in a poem, and, uh, this is it. I've included the poem and my explanation as well.

[quote][size=1][b]POEM[/b]: The Return of Persephone
By A.D. Hope

Gliding through the still air, he made no sound;
Wing-shod and deft, dropped almost at her feet,
And search ghostly regiments and found
The living eyes, the tremor of breath, the beat
Of blood in all that bodiless underground.

She left her majesty; she loosed the zone
Of darkness and put back the rod of dread.
Standing, she turned her back upon the throne
Where, well she knew, the Ruler of the Dead,
Lord of her body and being, sat like stone;

Started with his ravenous eyes to see her shake
The midnight drifting from her loosened hair,
The girl once more in all her actions wake,
The blush of colour in her cheeks appear
Lost with her flowers that day beside the lake.

The summer flowers scattering, the shout,
The black manes plunging down to the black pit ?
Memory or dream? She stood awhile in doubt,
Then touched the Traveller God?s brown arm and met
His cool, bright glance and heard his words ring out:

?Queen of the Dead and Mistress of the Year!?
?His voice was the ripe ripple of the corn;
The touch of dew, the rush of morning air ?
?Remember now the world where you were born:
The month of your return at last is here.?

And still she did not speak, but turned again
Looking for answer, for anger, for command:
The eyes of Dis were shut upon their pain;
Calm as his marble brow, the marble hand
Slept on his knee. Insuperable disdain

Foreknowing all bounds of passion, of power, of art,
Mastered but could not mask his deep despair.
Even as she turned with Hermes to depart,
Looking her last on her grim ravisher
For the first time she loved him from her heart.[/size][/quote]


[center][b]BRIEF ANALYSIS OF THEME AND MY INTERPRETATION[/b][/center]

The poem The Return of Persephone by A.D. Hope takes the legend of Persephone and Hades/Dis and personifies them, rather than making the two emotionless Gods as in the Greek and Roman myths. The poem concentrates on the feeling of Dis when he loses his lover and is forced to live away from her for six months of the year. When reading this poem, I was struck by the resemblance of Dis? situation to a modern day context of a split family, especially one in which a parent has not seen their child for a long time. While Demeter?s situation ? in which she loses a child for six months each year ? is similar, the difference for Dis is that he was never sure of Persephone?s love.

My story follows much the same path as the poem The Return of Persephone and the Greek myth, however, my Persephone ? Olivia ? is not Dis? lover but his daughter, just as she is Demeter?s daughter.

While my story does not focus directly on Persephone realising she loves Dis ? as I believed it would be unrealistic for her to do so ? it does focus on both the theme of the poem ? losing someone you love ? and also on the story behind the poem; the continual back-and-forth that a child of separated parents feels.

[b][center]THE RETURN OF PERSEPHONE[/center][/b]

The weak winter sun beat down on the two-storey, red-brick house, the climbing roses framing the windowsills perfectly. Peter Amaretto stood for a moment on the footpath, admiring the quaint perfection of the house. But then, his Julie had always wanted perfection. With a slight grimace, he opened the white picket gate which perfectly matched the white-picket fence and, no doubt, the white-picket life his once-family almost certainly now inhabited.

Peter took a deep breath and opened the gate. It had been a long time since he?d seen his ex-wife and his daughter. When their life together had first dissolved, it had been easier for all of them if he?d just disappeared for a while. He?d thrown himself into his work, pushing aside all thoughts of his beautiful three-year old girl and instead concentrating on other things: expansion into a global market, the opportunities involved in e-commerce and e-business, a revision of internal controls and the training of new employees so that in every branch of his business, customers could be assured of quality. He became very good at concentrating on his work. His work was distracting -- so full of promise and hope where his home-life was only full of decay and death ? and it had been easier to focus on that than worry about what he couldn?t change. It had come as a shock to realise, in April this year, that he?d been concentrating on work for three years, and that his precious three-year-old daughter would now be six?and he?d missed out on those years.

He was about to correct that. He may have lost three years, but he wouldn?t lose anymore.

He knocked on the door. Julie opened it, her face guarded and wary. He could understand that. If he were in her position, allowing him back into her life after three years, he?d be wary too. ?Julie.?

She gave him a tiny, awkward smile. ?Hi, Peter.? Her face was as lovely as ever; skin like porcelain and baby-blue eyes that always seemed to smile with the joy of life, even now, when she was suspicious. ?Come in. Olivia?s not ready yet.? She led him into the kitchen/dining area. ?Would you like a cup of coffee??

Peter suppressed a smile. That was his Julie; always unfailingly polite. ?Thanks. I take it-?

?White with none.? She finished for him, flashing a brief smile. ?I remember.? She prepared the coffee easily and quickly. The coffee cup was a man?s cup; large and chunky and not at all the sort of thing Julie would buy for no reason. It occurred to Peter that she?d probably become involved in three years, that she might even be married. A glance at her left hand confirmed his thoughts.

His Julie was not [i]his[/i] anymore. But that was okay. There had been a reason their marriage hadn?t worked, after all. If he was going to keep seeing his daughter, he wanted the air clear between the two of them, however. Peter took a deep breath. ?Julie, I just wanted to say??

She bared her teeth in an imitation of a smile. ?Sorry? Peter, that time?s passed. You could have said sorry four years ago when I needed you to.? Her hands were wrapped around her own coffee mug, as if trying to warm herself. ?I don?t know what this sudden interest in Olivia is, but I warn you, Peter, don?t you dare get her hopes up and break them down, ever.? She gave a small laugh. ?Sorry? I don?t need a sorry; I?m happy where I am. All I want from you now is a promise that you will not hurt my daughter the way you hurt me.?

Unable to say anything, he nodded. ?I promise, Julie. I won?t hurt Livvie. I love her, too.?

Julie stared at him for a moment, then placed her coffee mug on the counter and started walking out of the room. ?You don?t even know her.? When she was out in the hallway, she called out. ??Livia! Peter?s here.? He could hear the thumps of someone running across the room, heard her clatter down the stairs. Anxiety rose up within him. What if she didn?t remember him? What if she hated him for abandoning them both?

His thoughts were eradicated as he watch a little snippet of a girl come into view. She was wearing pale pink, a colour he hated most of the time but loved on her. Her pale blonde hair was perfectly brushed and her eyes were just like her mother?s. He?d forgotten that. He grinned and held out his arms. ?Hey Livvie. It?s me, Daddy. Do you remember me?? She stared at him like he?d grown horns, then looked at her mother.

Julie spoke up. ?Don?t forget your jumper, ?Livia.? While Olivia ran to get it, Julie hissed at him. ?You are not ?Daddy? to her. [i]Ian[/i] is her ?dad?, and he is the only one she remembers. You are Peter.?

Peter felt himself go pale, but nodded anyway. Olivia ran back into view, this time sporting a pink jumper over her pink dress and stockings. Julie gave him a strained smile. ?Ian will pick Olivia up from the park at twelve.? Which meant he had a half hour with his own flesh and blood. She turned to her daughter. ?Have fun, Olivia!?

The park wasn?t far away, and Peter figured they could walk. He closed the white-picket gate behind them, glad to leave the stifling need to be perfect that Julie created in him. As they walked, he tried to find some way to start a conversation. It shouldn?t be that difficult. She was six, for goodness sakes! ?So, did you start school this year??

She looked up at him and smiled but said nothing. He tried again. ?Perhaps if there?s an ice cream van we can get some ice cream. Would you like that?? She nodded but still said nothing.

They reached the park. When he had been younger and lived in this area, he?d loved this park. In some parks there was an air of desolation, and unbroken silence that forced sobriety on everyone who entered. Here, the shrieks of the children on the playground and the laughter as parents chatted to each other made sobriety, or any sort of seriousness, impossible.

Peter watched as Olivia looked longingly towards the playground, but he was determined to at least get her to talk to him before she played on it. ?So, you like your Dad??

No reply. Finally, he asked bluntly, ?Livvie, why won?t you talk to me??

She looked at him in surprise, then replied as if it was obvious. ?I?m not allowed to talk to strangers.? [i]You don?t even know her[/i]. Julie?s words came back with a vengeance.

Crouching to her level, he smiled at her. ?Livvie, your mummy knows me very well, and she trusts me with you. I promise you, nothing will happen to you if you talk to me.? He was making a lot of promises today, he noticed. Peter waited for her reply.

She was silent, her chin stuck out in an obstinate gesture as recognisable to him as his mother; he had exactly the same expression.

He sighed. Would he ever be forgiven for the mistakes of the past? As he looked into her eyes, he could see the silent rejection in them, reminding him strongly of Olivia?s mother?s. Not knowing what else to do, he once again suggested ice cream. It was the only thing she?d responded to affirmatively, after all. The defiant expression slowly became a smile of pleasure. ?Daddy takes me here for ice cream, too.? Peter bit his tongue to stop from snapping that he was her Daddy.

He realised, then, that she was staring at him with intelligent eyes, waiting for his reaction. Changing his reply, he asked, ?What?s your favourite type of ice cream??

?Vanilla!? Came the immediate reply.

?Me too!? he replied with a smile, even though he hated vanilla ice cream, especially the soft serve kind that ice cream vans sold. Anything for a point of conversation, he thought desperately.

Olivia opened her mouth to reply, but was cut short by a call. ?Olivia!?

She turned around a let out a squeal of pleasure. ?Daddy!? With no hesitation she launched herself into his arms.

Peter watched with a pang. He realised, in that instant, that no matter how hard he?d fought, he had to let go. He was an intruder in this family, and just as his Julie wasn?t his Julie anymore, his daughter was not his daughter. Feeling like his world was shattering, he watched father and daughter playing together, wondering what would have happened if he?d been there in those three years. Wishing he had been there in those three years.

He stared at them as they turned to go, walking hand in hand as if they?d always been father and daughter. He was Hades, having had but a brief moment with the one he loved before watching her get snapped away again. Even if she returned, she?d leave again and again and every time would hurt like this one.

His jaw clenched. He watched them talk, unable to look away from the torturous site. Olivia had stopped, and Ian was talking to her softly. She nodded a couple of times, and then looked back at Peter. Ian gave her a nudge, and she broke into a run, stopping just before she collided into Peter. She took a deep breath, and he watched her gather her courage, though what for he wasn?t sure.

Her words came out in a rush. ?Daddy says that you were my Daddy before he came along and that you took care of me too and that you loved me as much as he loves me and that we should thank you because without you he?d never have had me. He also said that I should get to know you because you took care of me, so do you want to come to dinner some time??

Peter felt his head spin, and he looked up over Olivia to the man ambling up behind her. Ian, his face grave but compassionate, nodded to him. He returned the gesture, a silent thanks written on his face and tears in his eyes. Crouching, he took Olivia?s hands and stared into the baby-blue eyes. ?Yeah, Livvie, I think I?d like that.? A slow smile spread over his face. He wasn?t Hades, losing a love; he was Demeter, gaining a daughter.[/size]

[DeadSeraphim]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]It's fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. The emotion is conveyed so well, and the entire situation is extremely believable. A fantastic piece, I really enjoyed. :)[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[Mitch]

[quote]The weak winter sun beat down on the two-storey, red-brick house, the climbing roses framing the windowsills perfectly. Peter Amaretto stood for a moment on the footpath, admiring the quaint perfection of the house. But then, his Julie had always wanted perfection. With a slight grimace, he opened the white picket gate which perfectly matched the white-picket fence and, no doubt, the white-picket life his once-family almost certainly now inhabited.

Peter took a deep breath and opened the gate. [b] [This is repetitive. In the paragraph just above, you've already said he opened the picket fence. You need to either get rid of that sentence above, or implement it somehow in this paragraph without being repetitive.][/b] It had been a long time since he?d seen his ex-wife and his daughter. When their life together had first dissolved, it had been easier for all of them if he?d just disappeared for a while. He?d thrown himself into his work, pushing aside all thoughts of his beautiful three-year old girl and instead concentrating on other things: expansion into a global market, the opportunities involved in e-commerce and e-business, a revision of internal controls and the training of new employees so that in every branch of his business, customers could be assured of quality. He became very good at concentrating on his work. His work was distracting -- so full of promise and hope where his home-life was only full of decay and death ? and it had been easier to focus on that than worry about what he couldn?t change. It had come as a shock to realise, in April this year, that he?d been concentrating on work for three years, and that his precious three-year-old daughter would now be six?and he?d missed out on those years. [b][This is the longest paragraph of the entire story and it's full of a lot of backstory. While backstory is good, it takes a backburner to the main story. I think some of these sentences could be clipped up or otherwise deleted to make this more to the point. As is, it's too long and got boring for me as a reader, because I wanted to just get on with the story. I know this is important, but you can say it in fewer words with greater impact][/b]

He was about to correct that. He may have lost three years, but he wouldn?t lose [b]any more[/b]. [b][Just a little thing. I know that in speech, we often say the words as if they're one, but they aren't.][/b]

He knocked on the door. Julie opened it, her face guarded and wary. He could understand that. If he were in her position, allowing him back into her life after three years, he?d be wary too. ?Julie.?

She gave him a tiny, awkward smile. ?Hi, Peter.? Her face was as lovely as ever; skin like porcelain and baby-blue eyes that always seemed to smile with the joy of life, even now, when she was suspicious. ?Come in. Olivia?s not ready yet.? She led him into the kitchen/dining area. ?Would you like a cup of coffee??

Peter suppressed a smile. That was his Julie; always unfailingly polite. ?Thanks. I take it-?

?White with none.? She finished for him, flashing a brief smile. ?I remember.? She prepared the coffee easily and quickly. The coffee cup was a man?s cup; large and chunky and not at all the sort of thing Julie would buy for no reason. It occurred to Peter that she?d probably become involved in three years, that she might even be married. A glance at her left hand confirmed his thoughts.

His Julie was not [i]his[/i] anymore. But that was okay. There had been a reason their marriage hadn?t worked, after all. If he was going to keep seeing his daughter, he wanted the air clear between the two of them, however. Peter took a deep breath. ?Julie, I just wanted to say??

She bared her teeth in an imitation of a smile. ?Sorry? Peter, that time?s passed. You could have said sorry four years ago when I needed you to.? Her hands were wrapped around her own coffee mug, as if trying to warm herself. ?I don?t know what this sudden interest in Olivia is, but I warn you, Peter, don?t you dare get her hopes up and break them down, ever.? She gave a small laugh. ?Sorry? I don?t need a sorry; I?m happy where I am. All I want from you now is a promise that you will not hurt my daughter the way you hurt me.?

Unable to say anything, he nodded. ?I promise, Julie. I won?t hurt Livvie. I love her, too.?

Julie stared at him for a moment, then placed her coffee mug on the counter and started walking out of the room. ?You don?t even know her.? When she was out in the hallway, she called out. ??Livia! Peter?s here.? He could hear the thumps of someone running across the room, heard her clatter down the stairs. Anxiety rose up within him. What if she didn?t remember him? What if she hated him for abandoning them both?

His thoughts were eradicated as he watch a little snippet of a girl come into view. She was wearing pale pink, a colour he hated most of the time but loved on her. Her pale blonde hair was perfectly brushed and her eyes were just like her mother?s. He?d forgotten that. He grinned and held out his arms. ?Hey Livvie. It?s me, Daddy. Do you remember me?? She stared at him like he?d grown horns, then looked at her mother.

Julie spoke up. ?Don?t forget your jumper, ?Livia.? While Olivia ran to get it, Julie hissed at him. ?You are not ?Daddy? to her. [i]Ian[/i] is her ?dad?, and he is the only one she remembers. You are Peter.?

Peter felt himself go pale, but nodded anyway. Olivia ran back into view, this time sporting a pink jumper over her pink dress and stockings. Julie gave him a strained smile. ?Ian will pick Olivia up from the park at twelve.? Which meant he had a half hour with his own flesh and blood. She turned to her daughter. ?Have fun, Olivia!?

The park wasn?t far away, and Peter figured they could walk. He closed the white-picket gate behind them, glad to leave the stifling need to be perfect that Julie created in him. As they walked, he tried to find some way to start a conversation. It shouldn?t be that difficult. She was six, for goodness sakes! ?So, did you start school this year??

She looked up at him and smiled but said nothing. He tried again. ?Perhaps if there?s an ice cream van we can get some ice cream. Would you like that?? She nodded but still said nothing.

They reached the park. When he had been younger and lived in this area, he?d loved this park. In some parks there was an air of desolation, and unbroken silence that forced sobriety on everyone who entered. Here, the shrieks of the children on the playground and the laughter as parents chatted to each other made sobriety, or any sort of seriousness, impossible.

Peter watched as Olivia looked longingly towards the playground, but he was determined to at least get her to talk to him before she played on it. ?So, you like your Dad??

No reply. Finally, he asked bluntly, ?Livvie, why won?t you talk to me??

She looked at him in surprise, then replied as if it was obvious. ?I?m not allowed to talk to strangers.? [i]You don?t even know her[/i]. Julie?s words came back with a vengeance.

Crouching to her level, he smiled at her. ?Livvie, your mummy knows me very well, and she trusts me with you. I promise you, nothing will happen to you if you talk to me.? He was making a lot of promises today, he noticed. Peter waited for her reply.

She was silent, her chin stuck out in an obstinate gesture as recognisable to him as his mother; he had exactly the same expression.

He sighed. Would he ever be forgiven for the mistakes of the past? As he looked into her eyes, he could see the silent rejection in them, reminding him strongly of Olivia?s mother?s. Not knowing what else to do, he once again suggested ice cream. It was the only thing she?d responded to affirmatively, after all. The defiant expression slowly became a smile of pleasure. ?Daddy takes me here for ice cream, too.? Peter bit his tongue to stop from snapping that he was her Daddy.

He realised, then, that she was staring at him with intelligent eyes, waiting for his reaction. Changing his reply, he asked, ?What?s your favourite type of ice cream??

?Vanilla!? Came the immediate reply.

?Me too!? he replied with a smile, even though he hated vanilla ice cream, especially the soft serve kind that ice cream vans sold. Anything for a point of conversation, he thought desperately.

Olivia opened her mouth to reply, but was cut short by a call. ?Olivia!?

She turned around [strike][b]a[/b][/strike] [i]and[/i] let out a squeal of pleasure. ?Daddy!? With no hesitation she launched herself into his arms.

Peter watched with a pang. He realised, in that instant, that no matter how hard he?d fought, he had to let go. He was an intruder in this family, and just as his Julie wasn?t his Julie anymore, his daughter was not his daughter. Feeling like his world was shattering, he watched father and daughter playing together, wondering what would have happened if he?d been there in those three years. Wishing he had been there in those three years.

He stared at them as they turned to go, walking hand in hand as if they?d always been father and daughter. He was Hades, having had but a brief moment with the one he loved before watching her get snapped away again. Even if she returned, she?d leave again and again and every time would hurt like this one.

His jaw clenched. He watched them talk, unable to look away from the torturous site. Olivia had stopped, and Ian was talking to her softly. She nodded a couple of times, and then looked back at Peter. Ian gave her a nudge, and she broke into a run, stopping just before she collided into Peter. She took a deep breath, and he watched her gather her courage, though what for he wasn?t sure.

Her words came out in a rush. ?Daddy says that you were my Daddy before he came along and that you took care of me too and that you loved me as much as he loves me and that we should thank you because without you he?d never have had me. He also said that I should get to know you because you took care of me, so do you want to come to dinner some time??

Peter felt his head spin, and he looked up over Olivia to the man ambling up behind her. Ian, his face grave but compassionate, nodded to him. He returned the gesture, a silent thanks written on his face and tears in his eyes. Crouching, he took Olivia?s hands and stared into the baby-blue eyes. ?Yeah, Livvie, I think I?d like that.? A slow smile spread over his face. He wasn?t Hades, losing a love; he was Demeter, gaining a daughter.[/quote]

The use of saying he "was like Hades" and then, after Ian gets her to ask him to dinner, him being "Demeter" was a stroke of genius and probably the golden moment of the story for me. I liked how it ended. It seemed so well done, as if that was what would actually happen - that Ian would tell her to actually give Pete a chance.

Overall, this piece is solid. Your writing style is very typical, and I think you could use maybe getting into your own type of style, maybe. But that's just me. I don't enjoy the way it's written as much as I would like to. I guess I just like writing that's different.

Anyway, ignore my pointless blathering.

And good job.