Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Procedural

Morris Markey's literary journalism piece, "Drift," belongs to a genre referred to as "the procedural." To your mind, what characteristics of the piece make it an example of the genre? (Late addition: How does this help with or determine the structure/organization of the piece?)

Now, as early respondents have noted, the piece has a noir-ish atmosphere. What is the connection of that atmosphere to the point or theme of the piece?

Remember, we're practicing good writing here, not just literary analysis. Your comments should be crisp and clear. Avoid generalizations, tortured syntax, and muddy language.

Your response is due by noon, Sunday, Feb. 7.

21 comments:

Howie Good said...

Jason Cook, editor of the terrific literary journal Ampersand, wrote this blurb for the back of my forthcoming book, Heart With a Dirty Windshield: "Howie Good's poetry punches you in the face and steals your wallet. It sleeps with your wife and hides the remote control. Howie Good's poetry, the reader suspects, works for the Yakuza." Now that's noir.

Andrew Carden said...

"Detective Sargeant O'Keefe was on assignment at the morgue, and he was checking over morning's instructions from Headquarters."

When I read the opening line to Morris Markey's "Drift," I immediately envision a sight that reeks of "noir" - imagery of a Humphrey Bogart-type, lounging in his posh leather chair, with his meek secretary in tow right around the corner, always ready to take the necessary notes. He opts to remove the pipe from his mouth only when he needs a sip of coffee, which he probably takes black. This, to me, is "noir."

While "Drift" is not necessarily reminiscent of '50s black-and-white crime dramas, there are definitely elements of the "noir" genre at play here. There is a certain darkness and bleakness in Markey's writing, and the proceedings suggest that despite all of the signficance and depth and wonder of one's existence, everything is eventually lost in death; we all become a "#48,227."

Perhaps the most interesting presence in "Drift" is the woman who is on a desperate search for a deceased man who went by the name of "Willie." While this woman hardly personifies the sort of "femme fatale"-types we're used to in the "noir" genre, she's almost reminiscent of the stock character that's typically overlooked - that of the "suffering wife." While it's not directly suggested that she was the spouse of "Willie" (for all we know, she could be his mother), she nonetheless evokes all of the sadness and torment of that sort of character.

Meg Zanetich said...

An element of noir that I immediately noticed while reading "Drift" was when Detective Sergeant O’Keefe began to give the description of “Number 48, 227”.

He said, “Number 48,227 was male, white, about twenty-eight years old, dark hair, blue eyes, five feet and eight inches tall, weight one hundred and fifty-four pounds. Hands not accustomed to manual work. Thirty-four dollars and seventy cents found on a dresser table. Good clothes. No papers or other means of identification in pockets. Took room twelve hours before death, giving no name and paying week’s rent in advance.”

This suggests an element of noir. The sentence structure is short and concise, dark and dreary. A lot of information with not a lot of words. He is giving the run down on this man using a certain rhythm in his voice. You can picture this part being in a noir film. You can see the shadow of a man in a dark alley surrounded by smoke seeping up from the grates. Another man, who is not shown, describes “Number 48, 227” with all the information he has.

O’Keefe mentions he “took room twelve,” and with that tone, it sounds like something right out of a crime fiction. He could have written “he stayed in room twelve” or “he was found in room twelve”. But, he chose to word this in a way that sounded much darker.

I enjoyed Markey mentioning the woman from Indianapolis because it brought a new character to this story that wasn’t necessarily needed. Her role was small but captured the idea of the noir genre. Although no one knew who she really was and she didn’t even know if he was really her Willie, the sadness of her situation made you feel for her and "Number 48,227"

Jenn Von Willer said...

As mentioned before, the first instance of suspected noir was Number 48,227, the main character of "Drift." A few cynical remarks were also made, especially between the Detective

These men have seen unidentified dead men before, it's nothing new to them but even how the superintendent treats the Indianapolis woman is light-hearted.
"But it would save a lot of trouble if eggs like this would write their name and address on a piece of paper. Take that woman from Indianapolis. All that trouble and worry just because the description that was sent out sounded like her Willie boy. She must have had a nice trip east, all right." That last sentence is pure cynicism, and burying these unknowns has become a burden on the police headquarters.

The imagery of a potter's field and themes of the World War, the Great Depression, suicide and its stigma from Catholicism has its own resemblance of para-noir, or beyond black, morose themes.

Even the clerk, the last sentence on page 96 spews of noir--
"Down at Police Headquarters, a clerk was going through the ROUTINE which would permit the City Treasury to take over the thirty-four dollars and seventy cents that Number 48, 227 had left behind when he decided he had enough of living."

Markey doesn't have to give his reader a name for Number 48,227 and it's something I'm not used to reading, because this story does not have any decently positive ending. "Drift" doesn't provide much substance to support why/who/how Number 48, 277 came to be and why he ended his life. Just send him to the field like the rest of them, and don't even bother with prayers for the rest of the unknowns.

Additionally, there's an eerie notion that succumbs the reader when reading about the unknowns being former mental patients or stillborn babies. To the Indianapolis woman, this could be her Willie, a beloved family member, but for the police and clerks, this is another wasted procedural day of trying to put the pieces together.

Unknown said...

“Drift,” is an example of a procedural piece because it illustrates its points through the routine of bringing bodies to a gravesite. The procedural nature of the story helps to give the piece a strong beginning, middle, and end. The slow and scheduled task of bringing dead bodies to a mass gravesite also makes the piece a great example of the procedural genre. I thought that this account should feel mundane and dull, but I ended up feeling an odd compassion for Number 48,227.

The “noir-ish” atmosphere plays well into the theme that in death we are all the same, just bodies huddled into the ground. The dark despondency of a story about an unnamed corpse also calls for a somewhat dark tone; it fits.

Kellie Nosh said...

First of all, I love the little paragraph that Jason Cook wrote about your poetry. It's powerful.

When I first read "Drift", as soon as I read the last sentence, I found myself overwhelmed at the feeling I got from reading. It left me in a mood where all I said was, "Oh..." To me, the piece is fittingly melancholy. Very bleak, as someone else mentioned. I agree that it's noir based off of the descriptions of things, including the generic look of lonely # 48,227. I often associate the color black with death. Whenever the poor unknown dead man was mentioned by number and not name, it eerily reminded me of Anthem by Ayn Rand.

As far as procedural characteristics, the explanation of the journey of a body to its grave was very cleanly written. It was written almost as though the pace of the burial matched the pace of the words, if that makes any sense. The structure helped move the piece along at an unhurried pace. I agree with Dan's comment before mine about how this account should feel mundane, but I sympathized with the identity-less 48,227.

Sarah Boalt said...

While reading this piece, I began to picture the story in my head as being in black and white or a sepia tone. I know that sounds strange, but I believe it has a lot to do with the "noir" attitude of the piece. The description of the unidentifiable man is depressing in a way. He was found alone in his apartment, dying from what was considered a suicide, with less than forty dollars in his possession. Just the fact that the man cannot be identified adds to this. Also, the imagery of "dead born babies" and the somewhat eerie picture of the Catholics being covered in a shroud with a cross both add to the element of noir.

Another thing I noticed that could be considered noir is that the man was buried in a mass trench grave and while other got their name on the list of the dead buried there. He was still only a number, no name or face was given to the body and he joined the "unidentified dead who carry no name into eternity." That sentence makes you think about how dark and sad not being buried with your name actually is.

I believe the concise sentences that get straight to the point are what make it a procedural. I think the fact that it is considered a procedural adds to the noir atmosphere because it is systematic much like the burial of the bodies in the morgue and the unidentified body just becomes part of the system. He is given no other life or story other than being systematically marked on a piece of paper as a number and added to a mass grave.

Anonymous said...
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Anonymous said...

First, I enjoyed reading the blurb that was written about your poetry. It made me want to become more familiar with your poetry and read some!

Now, Morris Markey's piece, "Drift," was a good depiction of the procedural genre because it took the reader step by step with Detective Sergeant O'Keefe. The reader was able to see what happens when someone dies and is unidentified. The structure of this piece helped to maintain a slow pace which added to the noir-ish feel.

When I read this piece I did picture a black and white film with low creepy music in certain parts. In the opening scene, I pictured O'Keefe leaning back on a chair in his office and his feet up on his desk, going through the slips of "pale-green paper." At this moment I also pictured him narrating what was going on in his mind in a low, mysterious voice.

This particular sentence had an eerie feel to it: "Down in the cellar, the attendants prepared Number 48,227 in accordance with the release..." The word prepared made it eerie because it doesn't sound like they are dealing with a human being. The description of the boat had an eerie quality to it as well and it was black too. Hart's Island -- "low and flat and featureless." I pictured a boat on the misty, foggy water sailing slowly to this place that was really dull and dark.

Honestly, this piece made me think about how many #48,227's are out there. We come into this world without a name, but then after we do have one we are able to be identified and leave our own mark on the world. How can we leave without our name? That is one of the first things we tell people when we meet them for the first time.

Another procedural quality I noticed was at the end when the clerk went through the "routine which would permit the City Treasury to take over the thirty-four dollars and seventy cents" that #48,227 left behind. So they aren't able to find this person's identity, but they can collect whatever money he left behind?

JustinMcCarthy said...

“Drift” is a procedural in that it details the beginning, middle and end of a dead body’s journey from the morgue to the grave. The beginning contains dialogue that provides readers with finite, yet very revealing information about the corpse. The middle details the route of transportation of the body, and the end describes the burial.
The noir atmosphere to the story goes with the dark and impersonal theme. The story of a corpse’s travels through a morgue and to a burial site is dark as it is. Additionally, the details about the corpse were so generic and impersonal, and characters showed no empathy in that the corpse once had life. Markley uses what I have coined as “reverse personification” on the corpse in that he writes about it as an object and not a person.
The lack of sympathy shown by the characters, the impersonal nature of addressing the corpse by a number and not a name, and the dialogue between Sergeant O’Keefe and the superintendant about the woman from Indianapolis along with many other dreary details connect the noir atmosphere to the theme of distance and lack of empathy for other human beings.

Allison Sofer Says said...

Add me to the list of people who really enjoyed the blurb written about your poetry. And having read some of it in my Creative Writing class, I would have to agree with the description. I was definitely punched in the face.

"Drift" is a procedural in the sense that it follows the progress of a body, going through the steps, and marking the journey of #48227 to their grave.

All the elements that were mentioned before - the descriptions, tone, and phrasing lead to the noir-ish feel of the story. I felt like I was watching an old style movie, crackling cigarette-burns around the edges. The feel of the story was very noir, and I sat back after reading it, feeling like I got myself into more than I expected. I was kind of bummed for a little while after, and I feel like that's the sign that Markey accomplished what he hoped to

JulieMansmann said...

By placing that scarce description of a dead man just a few grafs into his story, Markey certainly set a dark mood. By presenting those painfully short sentences void of “psychological detail” from the police report as his own, Markey smacks readers in the head to make them pay attention. However, no one should disregard all of those words that came before that crucial section of the story. I am referring to Markey’s description of the seargent’s nonchalance, the “nice pleasant room” he sat in, etc. – that, to me intensified the “noir” aspect of the piece. These tiny and seemingly insignificant details serve as a reminder that yes, dozens of corpses drift out of our world, some under the sad circumstances of number 48,227, but life goes on. The sun will shine beautifully as thousands are led to mass graves, as Markey described between scenes. Those buildings in Manhattan will continue to stand tall as bodies are lowered into the ground. Ultimately, Markey suggests that the lives of the poor, the “everyday man” are seen as being as inconsequential as the cemetery’s treatment of the burial services of these men; they may get a few “formulaic” words from an old priest seconds before their descent into the earth. That’s what makes this story “noir-ish,” in the words of Professor Good. The incorporation of those details as a point of contrast, the constant repetition of “number 48,227” throughout the text for emphasis, the procedural aspect of the story that further desensitizes the burial process: it all just makes you cringe when you put the book down. And that’s the point.

Maria said...

The procedural elements, a definite beginning middle and end, are what makes this a noir crime story. The story reeks of noir, reminiscant of the Maltese Falcon. The fact that the main character is referred to as a number rather than a name a noir element as is the dark, dreary cellar, the out of town greiving woman and the lack of compassion for 48,227's assumed suicide.

Suzann Caputo said...
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Suzann Caputo said...

The setting of "Drift" begins in a morgue, which is an eerie place. This is a characteristic of "noir". Right off the bat the reader can tell the story is not going to be about rainbows and sunshine. It is going to be dark. However, by the personalization of the story by concentrating on one specific dead man, number 48,227, the story becomes more sad than anything. The nameless numerial stands for so many others.

Certain words Markey chose to use add to the grave tone. For example, he says the dead "crept with solitary misery into city hospials". What is more sad than being alone and in misery? It is really pathetic in the true sense of the word. They crept, like they were not entitled to be there in the first place--the poor of the city. He also refers to the dead as "ghostly company". This reminds me of a ghost story. It is something one would say to scare children around a campfire.

JoshWhite said...

Sorry I'm late, I thought the deadline was 4:00 like the others.
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I was trying to think of what you defined "procedural" as when I lined up to answer the question when I remembered that you likened "procedural" to "Law & Order." That was the perfect thing for me to think about because "Drift" reads almost like a Dick Wolf screenplay. I was half expecting Sam Waterston to come out for a trial.

I terms of what elements make this procedural, I would say the pacing. This piece is very much an understanding of a process, and he writes it as so. From the morgue to the river to the slip, I get the feeling that the narrator is there, silent, just looking around. Just like 48,227; from the womb to the grave, slowly.

Samantha Minasi said...

First of all, I apologize for this being posted late, my cat decided to chew through his third Ethernet cord.

In Morris Markey's piece "Drift" we begin and end with impersonal paperwork,and an office desk. Which serves as somewhat of a punchline, since the subject matter is death, and not just one individuals death, but large numbers of deaths.

"Some had crept with solitary misery into the city hospitals, and some died there. Some had died in the dreadful squalor of the tenements. Some were dead-born infants from Bellevue next door."

This nonchalant way in which staggering statistics of death tolls, and casual descriptions of filthy demises is what feels so "noir" to me.

This piece be considered "procedural" because as I led into earlier, the story sort of starts and ends with this desk, but in between a very chronological, and expected chain of events takes place. The body is taken to welfare island and buried, although the smaller facts within the story are what make it, the story itself is very chronological, and this I believe makes it procedural.

Kim Plummer said...

I, too, apologize for being late. I thought the deadline was 4 p.m. as well.
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I think this literary piece belongs to the procedural genre, because like others have said, it takes you on a journey. But, I think what’s more important is that this journey isn’t just the journey of Number 48,227. There have been 48,226 others before him, and there’ll be hundreds of thousands that will take the same journey and “carry no name into eternity.”

This concept alone evokes dismal feelings. It’s instilled in us to work all your life to make a good name for yourself, or pass your family name along, and for some people, like No. 48,227, they’ll still end up “an unidentified” after years of living. They’re literally just another number, even after death. There will be no headstone with his name, just a piece of paper listing his number with the other numbers he’s been buried with.

The procedural style of writing is fitting because the narrator of this story is the detective, who seemingly has to deal with these grim concepts every day. Samantha mentioned that his descriptions are casual and nonchalant. The subject matter is dark itself, but it’s the way the detective writes the narrative that makes it noir. He distances himself in eerie way, as if he’s unaffected by it.

Meg said in her comment that we’re given a lot of information with a few words. And I think there are a lot of psychological aspects of the story that you can read into. Why is he using so few words? And why is he choosing the words that he does? Because in order to do his job, he can’t be affected by it. Because it would be that much easier if women from Indianapolis didn’t come running to try and identify body of loved ones.

Basically, what it comes down to is that, it would be easier if these bodies were JUST numbers. Except, no matter how much paper work says they are just numbers, they’re not. And that’s the role the woman from Indianapolis plays. Even the possibility that this might be her Willie reminds you that Number 48,227 could have been your Peter, Karen, John, whoever.

Sarah Fine said...

There is a clear style that Markey adopts throughout his story: short, tightly worded sentences within brief scenes. This procedural piece starts with a description of one unknown corpse, walks the reader through the trials at the morgue, and ends at the burial. Markey uses specific language to allow for an open analysis of his words. Each short sentence contains strong details that leave the reader with a sobering awareness of mortality. The noir-ish ambiance of Markey’s work expresses the feelings of a Sherlock Holmes mystery story with the underlying ominous sensation of death.

“Male, white, about twenty-eight years old, dark hair, blue eyes, five feet and eight inches tall, weight one hundred and fifty-four pounds,” all feasible characteristics of a human being. The body was identified as number 48,227. A John Doe who was just another corpse added to the list, one of nearly 50,000 unidentified human lives that pass through the doors of that morgue. But behind those physical characteristics, was a man who lived, and eventually took his own life. He had a name, a family and a story. Within the walls of the morgue, he was solely known as a number. By the end of the piece, body 48,227 was placed into the earth, and would be gone forever. Through Markey’s procedural style of writing, the reader receives the facts and realizes the details of what all of it means. Every single day thousands of people die, some who might have made a large impact on the world, some who just barely survived. But those bodies that remain unidentified are seen as an unfinished book, attached to a family who might spend their lives searching. As they are laid down to rest for the final time, the sun will still come out every day.

Sarah Fine said...

There is a clear style that Markey adopts throughout his story: short, tightly worded sentences within brief scenes. This procedural piece starts with a description of one unknown corpse, walks the reader through the trials at the morgue, and ends at the burial. Markey uses specific language to allow for an open analysis of his words. Each short sentence contains strong details that leave the reader with a sobering awareness of mortality. The noir-ish ambiance of Markey’s work expresses the feelings of a Sherlock Holmes mystery story with the underlying ominous sensation of death.

“Male, white, about twenty-eight years old, dark hair, blue eyes, five feet and eight inches tall, weight one hundred and fifty-four pounds,” all feasible characteristics of a human being. The body was identified as number 48,227. A John Doe who was just another corpse added to the list, one of nearly 50,000 unidentified human lives that pass through the doors of that morgue. But behind those physical characteristics, was a man who lived, and eventually took his own life. He had a name, a family and a story. Within the walls of the morgue, he was solely known as a number. By the end of the piece, body 48,227 was placed into the earth, and would be gone forever. Through Markey’s procedural style of writing, the reader receives the facts and realizes the details of what all of it means. Every single day thousands of people die, some who might have made a large impact on the world, some who just barely survived. But those bodies that remain unidentified are seen as an unfinished book, attached to a family who might spend their lives searching. As they are laid down to rest for the final time, the sun will still come out every day.

Pamela said...

Through concise detail, Morris Markey provides perfectly painted scenes of a slow moving journey, which classifies this piece as a procedural. By describing the physical characteristics of an unidentified corpse, Markey is able to move the character to feeling real to the reader. After reading the description of number 428,227, I was able to envision that person rather than a mere shadow or number.
Markey does create a dark and depressing atmosphere. Like some of my classmates have already mentioned, one of the ways he sets the upsetting mood is through the character of the Indianapolis woman. Because of her, I was able to feel the severity of losing a loved one. Also, the last sentence of Markey’s story makes the unidentified man a person who was capable of making decisions, a man who decided that “he had enough of living.” By the end of the story I felt the disturbance of not a dead buried number, but a dead buried human, a buried man.