Hello Gentle Reader
There is something, strangely appealing for people, about the private investigator life style that each of us imagine – well generally speaking that is. There is the life of hunting down (alleged) crooks, getting the beautiful woman (or man), dealing with the excitement of daily life, and of course walking the razors edge. Of course that is just what we suspect. What we hope for. What we imagine. Of course, the life of a private investigator can be anything but. One upon a time, Gentle Reader, I had met a private investigator, whose life was as mundane and mediocre as the rest of ours. He simple explained he does his job, and goes home. His job as a private investigator was just that dull, boring and nothing but, at the time of our simple meet and greet, he was working as a security guard. He simply got up in the morning – or at the beginning of dusk, and went to work. That was it that was all. He did nothing else. His life simply was just like the rest of ours. No dangerous adventures. No seedy underworld in need of investigating or probing. It was simply just that. A world like the rest of ours. He just sat there or stood there, following the protocol. Accidently messing up here and there, simply out of boredom. His life was nothing special at all. There was very little walking the razor edge of his life. Though to a degree it could be seen that he felt comfortable in his job, because he never quite or left it. He continued on right through and through – or at least that is what I assume. There was no James Bond (though is more espionage and intelligence agency kind of gun) grabbing the sexy girls, and making love every so often. There was nothing of the sort. No hidden gadgets. No saving the world, from the shadows that lurk around us. It was just simply what it was, just a life, and just a world. Maybe sometimes one does surveillance, on someone else. Of course that someone else is not expecting that they are being watched. The investigator watches everything – anything out of the ordinarily. Eventually enough watching leads to facts about, the routine of whoever is being watched. For example the person being watched, falls into certain routines. For example those routine might follow like the following:
5:30pm – subject leaves work office
6:00pm – subject arrives home, from office.
7:00pm – subject eats supper.
7:15 – 7:30pm – subject cleans up from supper.
7:30pm – 9:00pm – subject watches television
9:15pm – subject, goes through work – that has been brought home.
9:45pm – subject goes on computer
– subject checks e-mail
– browses internet
10:00pm – subject fixes himself/herself/itself a snake.
10:05pm – subject receives phone call
10:15pm – subject goes and watches television
10:30 -11:30pm – subject watches television
11:30pm – subject heads upstairs and gets ready to bed.
12:00am – subject has gone to bed
6:00am – subject is up.
6:00am – 7:00am – subject gets ready for work
– subject showers
– brushes teeth
– brushes hair
– gets dressed
– eats breakfast
7:15am – subject enjoys cup of coffee watches television
7:30am – subject leaves for work
8:00am – subject arrives at work
12:00pm – subject leaves for lunch
12:15pm – subject enters park and has lunch on park bench
12:30pm – subject goes for short walk
12:45pm – subject heads back to office
1:00pm – subject arrives back in office
5:30pm – subject leaves work office.
Eventually all this becomes routine to the investigator, becoming more absorbed into the subjects life and routine rather than that of their own. Of course there do come times, though when something else happens, time to time. Eventually the investigator begins to chip away at the facade of normalcy and see’s there is something far more sinister beneath it all. Eventually the investigator learns that the subject has a mistress. The investigator learns that the subject is mildly involved in drugs. This is what makes it all that more interesting. The investigator simply becomes the fly on the wall. The gray between the black and the white.
There is something about stories of closed spaces, which I enjoy. The claustrophobia of the closed space. The details soon become very familiar and slowly begin to become more and more bleak and more and more mundane, and more and more of a pain to look at. The mind begins to crave something else. Slowly and surely everything begins to lose that edge. The defined boundaries of sanity and insanity are slowly being tested.
Sleep becomes neither a saviour or a necessity. It’s just the nihilistic desire to do something, that in the end amounts to nothing. There is that slow feeling of cabin fever, prickling over the skin, like goose flesh that make such a story for me so interesting and ye so horrifying. Of course I like a story that takes place over a large as well, but when placed within a very small confinement or perimeter the story is forced to make certain adjustments, like following the slow decent into insanity. The psychological impact of lack of socialization or going outside, or have something to entertain the mind. This is what “Ghosts,” is about. This is what I enjoyed the most about this short little novella. Is the compact, claustrophobic space.
Each character is named after a colour. There is Mr. White, he hires a private investigator by the name of Blue, to watch on another person Black. Blue watches from a pre-paid apartment window Black. Both Blue and Black are located on Orange Street. Blue is engaged to Mrs. Blue. A person by the name of Red also makes an appearance – as a bartender; as well as a prostitute by the name of Violet. Blue’s mentor was another private investigator who goes by the name of Brown, who has since retired from the business and lives down in the Florida and spends most of his time fishing. Then there is an old coroner by the name of Doctor Gold – or simplified to Gold, who is on the search for the killer of a child.
For a novella of seventy pages or so, writing about the simple mundane activities of a man, who watches another man who does nothing, but reflects and writes, not to mention grocery shop’s among other odds and ends of no real particular interest; and yet it is still a interesting and compelling read – not that I can explain how. Perhaps there is just that feeling that something is going to happen – something or anything is going to happen – and then something’s do happen.
Blue is not the kind of person who can sit there, and do nothing and feel great about making money. He is not one who can fall into lethargy. Eventually blues disguises himself as an old man by the name of Jimmy Rose, and meets Black on the street. The two get to talking, and Black reveals that Jimmy Rose/Blue, looks a lot like Walt Whitman. The two then have a discussion about Walt Whitman. Again the two meet, and have a different conversation, this time about Nathaniel Hawthorne’s story titled “Wakefield,” about a man who gets up and leaves his home, and goes and lives into another apartment up till twenty years, without anyone knowing. It is a strict allusion to this novella titled “Ghosts.”
It’s an interesting read. Minimalist in its form. It is not something that is written in a flowery language. It’s cerebral and lucid. Everything moves like the ink from a fountain pen that Black might be writing in. However, it is not by any means the most believable story. But the thought of a man sitting in an apartment and doing nothing but watching some else, for some reason seems like such a neat story – it has been done before; but the thought of such a closed space environment always is strikingly interesting.
Thank-you For Reading Gentle Reader
Take Care
And As Always
Stay Well Read
*And Remember: Downloading Books Illegally is Thievery and Wrong.*
M. Mary
