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Date Posted: 09:39:31 04/08/10 Thu
Author: Fi
Subject: Another passage from "Claddagh"
Hi all,
Here I go again with another passage from my historical novel (working title is "Claddagh" but that will probably change). I'll take either overall impressions or detailed critique, whichever you like.
Thanks
Fiona
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In here>>> -- Fi, 09:41:43 04/08/10 Thu
From Claddagh [working title]
by F.H. Hurley
Copyright April 2010
For critique only
Galway, Ireland. 1663.
Richard dawdled as he passed over the bridge. The sky was clear, but the river swelled from last night's rain. On his left were the walls of Galway city and the masted ships bobbing at the quay. He spit into the water and watched the glob swirl around in one eddy, then another, before rushing towards the mouth of the river. He wondered vaguely if his spit would be swallowed by a fish or if it would just break up to become part of the sea.
He crossed the river to the right bank and made his way towards the church spire and the huddled thatched roofs of the Claddagh, the fishing village that was his home. The smell of turf filled the air as he met his mother and auntie Peg, along with two of his older girl-cousins.
“Thanks be to God for a calm day and a good catch!” said Peg. “And how is young Richard? Your uncle Jack said that you'll be big enough soon to help him on the boat.”
“The time will be soon enough,” said Kate. She readjusted the woolen shawl around her head, taking care not to tip out the salmon that she carried in the upturned fold of her apron. Peg and the girls excused themselves and Richard followed his mother home.
“So, what did he say?” she asked.
“Who?”
“Mr. Joyce, of course. Did you see him?”
“I did.” Richard frowned, wondering which of the many words his mother wanted. “He asked after you. And Da.”
He followed his mother into their own cottage, shooing the chickens out of his way. Inside, the fire burned low on the hearth, smoke filling the room with a pleasant, warm fug. The grey cat caught whiff of the salmon and shimmied around Kate's skirts.
“Are you seeing him again?”
She upended the fish from her apron to the wooden table and threw her shawl over the stool. He was tempted to say “who?” again but bit his tongue. She had taken out the gutting knife and looked serious.
“He asked me for supper next Sunday.”
“Well, that's something.” She sliced off the head of the salmon and the cat went demented, curling itself in and around her skirt. She looked at the fish, then at the cat, then at the fish head again and shook her head. “Not the head, puss, I can make soup from that. Have we any potatoes left, Richard?”
He peered into the sack and lifted out a handful, all that was left. “Not many.”
She sighed, slicing through the belly of the fish. “Enough for tonight, anyway.”
“Why did you send me to Mr. Joyce, Ma?” Richard dumped the pebble-sized potatoes on the table beside her. “Why does he want to meet me again?”
“We can't depend on my brother forever.” She pulled out the fish's guts, and the cat headbutted her ankle. “He has his own mouths to feed, and plenty of them.” It was true there were a lot of Flaherty cousins; Peg would scarcely wean one child when her belly would swell again.
“I'll be old enough to fish soon. I'm old enough to help out now, if you'd let me.”
Kate threw the fish guts at the cat, who lapped them from the floor.
“Not if I can help it. I've lost too many men to the sea already. My father, my husband. Not my son, if I can help it.”
Richard scowled. Did she think he would not be strong enough to brave the ocean as Claddaghmen had done for generations? Did she think he would be a child forever?
“I'm not a baby, Ma! My cousin Sean was out on the boat before he was eleven.”
She wiped the bloodstained knife on her apron, ignoring him.
“Why is a rich man interested in me anyway?” he demanded.
“Let's say he owes me a favour,” she said.
They were interrupted as his two little sisters rushed through the door. Six-year-old Eily leaned her head against her mother's hip, giving her brother the usual greeting by popping out her tongue. “Did you get any money in Galway?”
Eight-year-old Nora put hands to hips. “Eily, he wasn't selling anything today.”
“Why did he go there, then?” the younger girl asked.
Richard shrugged, and Kate handed her older daughter a potato.
“Nora, start peeling. Wait, there's some eating in the skins: don't peel them, scrub them. And Richard, throw a few more sticks on the fire.”
He took a handful of twigs from the pile and added them to the hearth; the flame licked and crackled some more. He doubted that he would get any more answers today.
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Hi, Fi! >>> -- 
Page, 12:04:56 04/10/10 Sat
I thought this was super! (The cat was great! *G*) I especially liked the juxtaposition of Richard's little-boy thinking about whether or not a fish would swallow his spit with his trying to convince his mum he's a man. You did an excellent job of setting the scene with great visuals and dialogue.
I can't wait to read more!
Hugs,
Page
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Good stuff Fi! -- debikm, 16:20:10 04/10/10 Sat
You've captured the pride and desperation of a poor family, and Richard's understandable confusion. Despite his mother's desire to keep him safe, he's frustrated because she won't let him contribute to the household the only way he knows. The cat was a great touch.(I have one that sits up like a dog and waves to beg.)Gave the scene a little humor and still helped illustrate how little they have to spare.
Excellent!
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Re: In here>>> -- Alex, 19:13:02 04/12/10 Mon
>The sky
>was clear, but the river swelled from last night's
>rain.
This line made me pause. Missing a had? Or the river was swollen? I'd suggest adding in the scents of the salmon to the scene and I felt bad she threw the fish guts at the cat. Maybe she tossed them onto the floor for him? Other than that I enjoyed Richard's boyish actions and thoughts balanced against his words of being grown up and ready. And Kate's thriftiness showing how tight things are for the family. Nicely done!
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