Hugh Ogden Introduces an Excerpt from Fred's novel: Shine On
Issue date: 12/13/05 Section: Tribute
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Fred, in his novels, short stories, and essays, is concerned with how life, in its radiant- dense complexity, is beyond art. In "The Quality of Light In Maine" (SHINE ON), Marty, the narrator, finally speaks in his own "I" voice and says of Annie and Scott on the beach at Old Orchard:
"They lay on their bellies, completely still; he is his orange trunks, she in her lime two-piece, their beautiful faces close together, completely clear. The two of them together filled the space that framed them; and the quality of light in Maine that makes the surfaces of things so clean and complete, illumed them so completely and made them both, on that towel and in that pocket of sand, a work of art.
I have walked into a work of art, I thought; and the thought both thrilled and frightened me so much that I stepped out of the dunes and turned back up the beach. But when I repassed that pocket they were awake, alive, standing up. Annie beating the sand off the towel with hard slapping motions, her face swollen and angry; Scott squinting vaguely off at the darkening sky; the wind gone and, ahead of me, light falling dully on the sand that stretched off into haze."
Thank you for your art and your friendship and for how you taught us in your last days that, as Elizabeth Saria said First Day last in Meeting, "Death shows life the way."
"They lay on their bellies, completely still; he is his orange trunks, she in her lime two-piece, their beautiful faces close together, completely clear. The two of them together filled the space that framed them; and the quality of light in Maine that makes the surfaces of things so clean and complete, illumed them so completely and made them both, on that towel and in that pocket of sand, a work of art.
I have walked into a work of art, I thought; and the thought both thrilled and frightened me so much that I stepped out of the dunes and turned back up the beach. But when I repassed that pocket they were awake, alive, standing up. Annie beating the sand off the towel with hard slapping motions, her face swollen and angry; Scott squinting vaguely off at the darkening sky; the wind gone and, ahead of me, light falling dully on the sand that stretched off into haze."
Thank you for your art and your friendship and for how you taught us in your last days that, as Elizabeth Saria said First Day last in Meeting, "Death shows life the way."
