Post by rorschalk on Oct 7, 2020 18:50:47 GMT
SUBTERFUGES is functional as a fiat built on a modern day assembly line. It’s apparent that the information given early will further the plot and be paid off late: as when Leticia’s childhood living arrangements are too conveniently revealed against Edward’s, which pulls double duty as character contrast and information dump.
Large oil and gas companies claimed the mineral rights beneath the residences she grew up in. That petrochemical power had fascinated her. She wanted the industry to pay her somehow. So she worked in exploration and production.
The VC is very capable of rich, chunky writing as in her wonderful Chandler-esque description of Marblegate. The schematic of the mansion’s features, both without and within, are an homage to such archetypal edifices as Citizen Kane’s Xanadu or Poe’s House of Usher.
The character’s descriptions are also competently, almost lovingly, given. It’s obvious the VC knows the joy of as well as the business of writing, but with this venture at least, for the most part, has phoned it in.
The dialogue is more quippy than authentic; more leading than life like. Borrowing again from the earlier assembly line analogy, it comes off as more robotic than real.
“You’re a good friend. And I could use this mini-vacation in a warmer climate. Doing surveys in the North Dakota Bakken Shale was freezing my Texas-born ass off. At least my next assignment is in the warmer climate of Amarillo.”
The information frontloaded is paid off, predictably, in the venture’s resolution, no red herrings or mcguffins to add a verisimilitudinal nod to the sloppiness of life. There is very little to savor here, almost all is delivered with zero fat and extra virgin lean. And yet, Leticia’s closing insight on the nature of reality and our disposition to it is surprisingly poignant. Which is a testament to the VCs latent artistry. Artistry so obviously held back here in a venture produced by the numbers it lives up to its name in the transactional world of capital prospecting, I must tell you. It’s like being on an archeological dig with all fossils already sticking out of the ground; all payoff with no or very little effort being needed to extract the lovely bones. And where is the value (not to mention the fun) in that?
Large oil and gas companies claimed the mineral rights beneath the residences she grew up in. That petrochemical power had fascinated her. She wanted the industry to pay her somehow. So she worked in exploration and production.
The VC is very capable of rich, chunky writing as in her wonderful Chandler-esque description of Marblegate. The schematic of the mansion’s features, both without and within, are an homage to such archetypal edifices as Citizen Kane’s Xanadu or Poe’s House of Usher.
The character’s descriptions are also competently, almost lovingly, given. It’s obvious the VC knows the joy of as well as the business of writing, but with this venture at least, for the most part, has phoned it in.
The dialogue is more quippy than authentic; more leading than life like. Borrowing again from the earlier assembly line analogy, it comes off as more robotic than real.
“You’re a good friend. And I could use this mini-vacation in a warmer climate. Doing surveys in the North Dakota Bakken Shale was freezing my Texas-born ass off. At least my next assignment is in the warmer climate of Amarillo.”
The information frontloaded is paid off, predictably, in the venture’s resolution, no red herrings or mcguffins to add a verisimilitudinal nod to the sloppiness of life. There is very little to savor here, almost all is delivered with zero fat and extra virgin lean. And yet, Leticia’s closing insight on the nature of reality and our disposition to it is surprisingly poignant. Which is a testament to the VCs latent artistry. Artistry so obviously held back here in a venture produced by the numbers it lives up to its name in the transactional world of capital prospecting, I must tell you. It’s like being on an archeological dig with all fossils already sticking out of the ground; all payoff with no or very little effort being needed to extract the lovely bones. And where is the value (not to mention the fun) in that?