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I've recently been re-reading the Thursday Next books by Jasper fforde. If you haven't read them, I recommend them because, despite being based on a very old literary conceit, they're actually great fun, funny and well-written. They're based on the old idea of a fictional character being able to enter the 'real' world or a real person entering a fictional one, rather like The Purple Rose of Cairo, Last Action Hero or The Neverending Story.
In the first book, The Eyre Affair, a machine is invented which allows real people to enter worlds of fiction, resulting in varoius characters from Jane Eyre being murdered or kidnapped and held to ransom - as these events take place, the text of the book (and all copies of it) change for better or worse.
So that gives me an idea. As it's Friday and so a slow work day, today's question is; which work of fiction would you choose to jump into if you had the chance, and how would your presence improve it?
Here's a few of mine.
Wuthering Heights
"By Hells Teeth!", bellowed Heathcliffe. "If any man stood between me and my desires, I should tear out their heart and devour it before their eyes!" He seized up a chair in his fury and hurled it at the wall, denting the wainscotting. "I am the master of this house and all within it shall do my..."
There was a knock at the door. With a diabolic oath and a twisted leer, Heathcliffe strode over and hurled it open to reveal David standing outside.
"Damn your eyes, sir!" roared the master of the house. "What business have you upon my land? Speak quickly before it goes ill for you!"
"Are you Heathcliffe?" was the only reply.
"That I am, sir, whatever business it is of yours!"
"Well cop for this, then", replied David, and kicked him firmly in the plums. Heathcliffe collapsed with a soft whimper.
David looked at the recumbent literary fruitcake. "You had that coming", he commented. "I always reckoned you were all mouth and no trousers."
Looking away, his eye happened upon Cathy, sitting silently on the seat by the windown. "Come on, Cathy", said David. "Let's take you out and show you a good time." He looked her up and down and took in her strict crinolines and corsetry. "But first", he added, opening his bag and taking out a pair of hotpants, "why don't you slip into something a little more comfortable?"
Twilight.
"Edward! Oh, my Edward!" My voice was cracked with worry as I ran through the glass-walled rooms of the Cullen's beautiful house. Within me, my heart beat faster at the sight of spatters of red on the cream-coloured furnishings. What could had happened. If some tragedy had befalled my beloved it would be as if all my being, my purpose had been stripped from me.
I took the stairs three at a time, past the momentoes of eternity which the Cullens decorated their home. Each picture of Edward, each sign of him was a splinter of fear in my heart as I passed.
I reached the top of the stairs, and turned to my love's room. It was in there he had sworn to protect me, no matter what. That he would always watch over me, care for me. Seated on his bed was an unknown man, bending over Edwards recumbent body. As I watched, the man raised a mallet and finished knocking home a sharpened wooden stake. He turned, and looked at me.
"Lucky I got here when I did", he said. "Turns out this place was a nest of vampires. Still," he added, standing and brushing thick, gritty ash from his shirt. "I think I got them all. You should be safe, now."
Safe? The word burned itself into my mind. Yes, I was safe. I felt myself falling utterly, irretrievably in love.
1984
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clock was striking thirteen. David looked irritably up from his newspaper and glared at it. "Bloody thing", he muttered. "I knew I should have kept the receipt."
Your turn.
In the first book, The Eyre Affair, a machine is invented which allows real people to enter worlds of fiction, resulting in varoius characters from Jane Eyre being murdered or kidnapped and held to ransom - as these events take place, the text of the book (and all copies of it) change for better or worse.
So that gives me an idea. As it's Friday and so a slow work day, today's question is; which work of fiction would you choose to jump into if you had the chance, and how would your presence improve it?
Here's a few of mine.
Wuthering Heights
"By Hells Teeth!", bellowed Heathcliffe. "If any man stood between me and my desires, I should tear out their heart and devour it before their eyes!" He seized up a chair in his fury and hurled it at the wall, denting the wainscotting. "I am the master of this house and all within it shall do my..."
There was a knock at the door. With a diabolic oath and a twisted leer, Heathcliffe strode over and hurled it open to reveal David standing outside.
"Damn your eyes, sir!" roared the master of the house. "What business have you upon my land? Speak quickly before it goes ill for you!"
"Are you Heathcliffe?" was the only reply.
"That I am, sir, whatever business it is of yours!"
"Well cop for this, then", replied David, and kicked him firmly in the plums. Heathcliffe collapsed with a soft whimper.
David looked at the recumbent literary fruitcake. "You had that coming", he commented. "I always reckoned you were all mouth and no trousers."
Looking away, his eye happened upon Cathy, sitting silently on the seat by the windown. "Come on, Cathy", said David. "Let's take you out and show you a good time." He looked her up and down and took in her strict crinolines and corsetry. "But first", he added, opening his bag and taking out a pair of hotpants, "why don't you slip into something a little more comfortable?"
Twilight.
"Edward! Oh, my Edward!" My voice was cracked with worry as I ran through the glass-walled rooms of the Cullen's beautiful house. Within me, my heart beat faster at the sight of spatters of red on the cream-coloured furnishings. What could had happened. If some tragedy had befalled my beloved it would be as if all my being, my purpose had been stripped from me.
I took the stairs three at a time, past the momentoes of eternity which the Cullens decorated their home. Each picture of Edward, each sign of him was a splinter of fear in my heart as I passed.
I reached the top of the stairs, and turned to my love's room. It was in there he had sworn to protect me, no matter what. That he would always watch over me, care for me. Seated on his bed was an unknown man, bending over Edwards recumbent body. As I watched, the man raised a mallet and finished knocking home a sharpened wooden stake. He turned, and looked at me.
"Lucky I got here when I did", he said. "Turns out this place was a nest of vampires. Still," he added, standing and brushing thick, gritty ash from his shirt. "I think I got them all. You should be safe, now."
Safe? The word burned itself into my mind. Yes, I was safe. I felt myself falling utterly, irretrievably in love.
1984
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clock was striking thirteen. David looked irritably up from his newspaper and glared at it. "Bloody thing", he muttered. "I knew I should have kept the receipt."
Your turn.
