The Colourful Life of Calum McCall

During the early years of his life, Calum McCall was surprised to find himself
waking up every morning in a winter country of darkened tenements, black railings
and streets of pitiless traffic. There seemed to be only one sun in the Scottish sky,
and it wasn't even striped - which perhaps explained the look of perpetual
disappointment he could see in the faces of the men and women who lived there.
Every so often he tried asking his parents: 'What has happened to the
multicoloured suns that used to bounce across the sky, and to the colours that
trailed after like rain?'
'Aye right’ said his dad.
'Elbows off the table,' said his mother.
At school his teacher told him to sit up straight and pay attention — that way he
would get ahead.
When he fell in love for the first time he told the girl — she was called Alice — that
her kisses brought back all the colours he had known so early on, and which were
now faded almost to nothing in his memory. Alice said he was sweet, and a few
months later she got engaged to an up-and-coming dentist.
Years later, Calum married and had children of his own. One day his baby son
pointed at the sky and gurgled with pleasure. Calum followed the pointing finger, but
could see nothing particularly special up there - nothing that was visible to him,
anyway.
That night he slept badly for the first time.
Now that he was in a position of responsibility, he could not afford to turn up at his
office dishevelled with lack of sleep, not among his ambitious colleagues. His doctor
gave him a packet of brightly coloured pills.
Every morning now, Calum is up early, ready for the day ahead. Every night, he
slips from one utterly dreamless world into the next.

© Ron Butlin 2007
From ‘No More Angels’
Published by Serpent’s Tail 2007
ISBN 978-1-85242-954-6
www.serpentstail.com

From illusion to ambition

The story deals with the transition from childhood to adulthood and how priorities change throughout our lives. When he is a child, Calum McCall is amazed with the colourful world he is living in. Though as time past, this world begins lose its magic: society needs good manners than childish illusions. We can see this when nobody wants to hear about those multicoloured suns.
As an adult and with many responsibilities, he’s brought back in time by his son making him feel uncomfortable. This can be seen when he doesn’t have the answers to the same questions he had as a child. So, to be calmed down and be able to go on with his daily routine, he sees a doctor who gives him a packet of brightly coloured pills.
There are many gaps in the story that our mind can fill in, and we want to enlarge the idea of how his world starts to get dyed in grey scales. In my opinion, this happens because he sees adulthood as a cold and monotonous stage in life. We can realize about this because the city is a dull place for him. So, he compares this dull life with the city where people seem to be tied to responsibilities and ambitions living aside some details which give colours to life.

LATITUDE (by Elton John)

I'm a fan of Elton John. I love almost all his songs because they are meaningful and pleasant. The majority of them talk about life, feelings, emotions and man. I thought in this song when I read the story about Calum McCall.

Grey London morning
Wet London streets
Rain on the Window
Wind in the trees
It’s my time to write
It’s your time to call
There’s something about distance
That gets to us all.

Dark clouds above me
Little people below
All walk with a purpose
With someplace to go
It’s my place to paint
My own selfish scene
On this cold lonely canvas
It’s just the weather and me.

And latitude
Fold back the morning and brings on the night
There’s an alien moon
That hangs between darkness and light
Latitude
Between me and you
You’re a straight line of distance
A cold stretch of black across blue
Latitude

Cracks in the sidewalk
Dogs on the run
An old poster reading
‘Give us your sons’
Window frames capture
Moments in time
But latitude captures
The heart and the mind.

And latitude
Fold back the morning and bring on the night
There’s an alien moon
That hangs between darkness and light
Latitude
Between me and you
You’re a straight line of distance
A cold stretch of black across blue
Latitude

And latitude
Fold back the morning and bring on the night
There’s an alien moon
That hangs between me and you
You’re straight line of distance
A cold stretch of black across blue
Latitude

What literature is for me?

Literature is a way of strolling along the emotions, stories, landscapes, reflections and whatever we can imagine or feel. Any literature genre has the power of leading us to different worlds at any moment. It is like a lemon tree of four seasons. At any time, literature brings to life new characters, situations and creates other worlds.

What reading and writing is for me?

READING IS

...an entertaining way of cultivating my knowledge. A manner of experimenting with the word and knowing myself as a person. I can interpret life, thoughts, society and world. It helps me widen my horizons in order to write something creative and to know more about different topics.

WRITING

Fortunately, there’s no need to be as chosen as a talented person to start writing. Furthermore, everybody has something to tell. Writing is a pleasant activity which is liberating and let me be authentic. Nothing is ridiculous at the time of writing and one is free to write whatever wants. We can transform the reality. That is, we can invent a fictitious world with real elements. Writing is also a way of knowing ourselves. In that productive act we connect with ourselves and all our personal experience is moved by the emotions and feelings. In a piece of writing we can also see our writing style, what we think, imagine and mean. In other words, there we see how our inside world converges with the world that surrounds us. Personally, writing is a good way of expressing which allows us to organize our ideas and thoughts. We have to take into account that we learn to write by writing. So, the phrase that says: “practice makes perfection” fits very well with this activity so long as it is fundamentally PRACTICE that all people can do.

The monkey on my back

Many times, people postpone doing certain activities and nothing happens. There’s no feeling of blame. But the problem is when an activity like writing, for example, has become a habit that exerts a strong pressure. Although the feeling of frustration is hidden, there are times that necessity of writing appears time after time. In spite of the attempts to enjoy the different moments of life, the shadow of that incomplete project appears from time to time. It is like a monkey bothering me on my back or the insistent song of a cricket. All pleasure disappears rapidly. Then, the simple fact of starting writing diminishes the anxiety and self-confidence is restored.

This is my comment about "Write at your peril" by Ursula Holden.

Time does not bring relief

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied

Who told me time would ease me of my pain!

I miss him in the weeping of the rain;

I want him at the shrinking of the tide;

The old snows melt from every mountain-side,

And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;

But last year's bitter loving must remain

Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.

There are a hundred places where I fear

To go - so with his memory they brim.

And entering with relief some quiet place

Where never fell his foot or shone his face

I say, 'There is no memory of him here!'

And so stand stricken, so remembering him.

Edna St Vincent Millay (1892 -1950)

CONCLUSION
In this poem, the author expresses the deep melancholy she feels because of the loss of someone she loved (an old love, a relative or a friend). But she mainly highlights her conviction that the passing of time is not enough to relieve the bitter sensations produced by the distancing with her lover.
She uses elements from nature to describe the sensations. She points out the everlasting feelings even though she looks for places where she has never been. I find this poem very interesting and deep. It is a pleasure to read it.