Welcome to "What I Learned," a blog about reading that has helped my writing that Conor Gallagher has wroten. There might be spoilers.
Today, I learned: Sometimes You Gotta Ditch Your Ending, or How To Not Answer a Question Properly
For those of you who haven't taken the 204 page journey--at least in the edition I bought--or the 115 minute movie journey--haven't seen it yet--Picnic at Hanging Rock is a novel by Joan Lindsay, published in 1967 and set in 1900.
The short novel, which fair warning will take you longer than you except to read because A) In every edition I've seen they've chosen to print it in that teensy-weensy print that just screams LIT-TRA-CHAR! and B) Joan Lindsay is f-ing hilarious and clever and you'll need to read each sentence carefully to catch all of her expertly sharp jabs at everyone from the kindly Irish Tom to the Turns-out-she's-actually-a-little-crazy Mrs. Applegate....Technically that wasn't even a complete sentence but I need to put a period cause WOW. Maybe run-ons can be the next installment.
JK, the next installment (It's here now! You're in the future. Read it here!) is Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo and she knows how to edit so....
Anyway, Picnic is all about the disappearance of three schoolgirls from a picnic taking place at the aforementioned Hanging Rock, a location that is far enough away to be a treat for the school girls but not so far as to require an overnight. Especially if you take the isosceles path on the way back, eh Miss McCraw? This is not the last of these references. They make sense--and are pretty durn clever, once you read the book.
The rock's distance from the school, and its middling nature, is just one of many expert moves that Lindsay plays to throw you off. Just like the Hanging Rock's location, these tremors within the reality of her novel are not enough to sound an alarm, but will unsettle you, almost insidiously. Little cracks in your calm until all at once they slide together and you're completely nervous and you can't even explain why.
It starts small.
Lindsay refers to the boarders at Mrs. Applegate's school as "inmates" from the first pages, but only in her third-person descriptions. No staff member or townsperson ever reinforces this definition.
Mrs. Applegate's lack of credentials are explicitly stated, but again, the point is never questioned or argued by the people she's created. Conversely, nasty rumors about a junior teacher, Ms. Lumley, are repeatedly mentioned by the students at Appleyard but never confirmed by Lindsay's authorly omniscience.
It's a doubt that Lindsay sows throughout her novel that unnerved me. A doubt not about what is going on necessarily, but about the cause.
For example, several characters are affected by the summer heat of the Australian outback and begin to speak strangely. Nothing so over the top as mad ravings, but the mathematics mistress, Greta McGraw, starts talking about roads in relation to triangles and how the road back to the college could be half the length of the road out if they just took the right turn and if all that's a bit confusing PULL UP A CHAIR. This is one of those sections I mentioned above that you'll have to read twice. And moreover, you'll feel so smart for putting a pin in it cause it will come up again later, but trust me, when it does, you're only gonna be pulled in deeper rather than given any relief.
Other strange happenings happen (That lil string of words is from my first draft of this post and I'm not removing it cause it's just so bad and LOL) at the picnic, as well.
A malaise overtakes most of the schoolgirls after lunch. Sure, they ate a lot and it's hot, but it's a bit weird, right?
Multiple people's watches stop working. Again, sure, they could have just forgotten to wind them, but why then did they both stop today, away from the safety of the school?
It's these sorts of mysteries--the servants neglecting Sara's letter by accident, the way Lindsay tells the story as if it actually happened--that make the whole thing so enjoyable.
Not to ruin the book (honestly, I promise this doesn't), but the story could be boiled down to "Three girls go missing in the Outback. Not much happens after that" but not only is that an oversimplification because I don't want to spoil it for you, but also that's not the gorram point!
I went into reading Picnic thinking it would be a fantastic whodunnit in the same vein as Agatha Christie or Sherlock Holmes, but the joy comes from the journey rather than the conclusion. There's a sickening dread throughout what could easily be a pedestrian story, but the way Lindsay frames it and has people behaving in ways that could be labeled both "insane" and "justified" depending on your mood makes the whole experience tense.
And that's where I learned about endings.
Lucky for me, the edition I have had a foreword by Maile Meloy. Even luckier, Meloy says in the very beginning of her foreword that she went into Picnic blind and suggests you do the same. I would co-sign this suggestion, if only for what comes next.
The last chapter of Picnic closes a few loops of the plot: Mrs. Appleyard gets what's coming. Little Sara doesn't. And the students of Appleyard are never found...Plus that one teacher that goes missing. And minus the one student who gets found.
People come and go, okay? That's just life. Also some side characters LITERALLY BURN ALIVE (I'm not kidding) and even though they weren't very nice and might have been incestuous it comes a bit out of left field. Or maybe right field cause Australia?
Anyone, the whole "point" of the book, or so I presumed, was to find out what happened at the Picnic at Hanging Rock, but instead, it ends up being about NOT finding out. And for a really good reason. Go to the bottom of this post to find out what originally happens at the end the of the book* before Lindsay and co. cut the last chapter, but if you choose not to (my recommendation), just know that summing everything up isn't always a good idea.
It's a lesson we've learned time and time again. Just as when the monster is finally revealed in a horror movie only to show bad CGI or a mouse with a big shadow. Or when we understand that they've been dead the whole time. Or even just turning the lights on in the basement when you're telling scary stories at a sleepover. Removing the mystery, the ambiguity, from something can often rob it of its soul, especially in art. Double especially in horror art.
The mysterious, eerie feeling I've been trying to get across in this blog post (albeit, not in a completely successful way. SORRY, guess you'll have to read it and join my book club I just thought of now and follow me @conorsaidwhat) is snuffed out in the (thankfully) missing last chapter. All the joy I was given during my reading of Picnic came from the guessing and the not knowing. And while I'm not one for an inconclusive ending--I usually find them lazy--Picnic is not part of that mess.
I thought you read Picnic at Hanging Rock to find out the answer to the question. To find out what happened that day in 1900. I thought the joy would come from the answer. Instead, the joy came from asking the question, over and over.
As each clue closes up and even as some of the victims return, the constant nibbling, the picking at the scab of that day by the weird rock, is the thing that makes Picnic such a good book. And to give a definite conclusion, to answer the question, would ruin it.
Like a poem not memorized or a letter never delivered, the fact that Picnic at Hanging Rock feels like an incomplete task makes it not only brilliant, but something that I'll get to enjoy forever to come.
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If you liked what you just read, consider following me on twitter and instagram @conorsaidwhat. I post about writing stuff and make stupid jokes there. Hopefully soon I'll be able to tell you some book news!
I for real enjoyed Picnic and hope you'll pick it up from an indie shop near you if you want to give it a go. You can use IndieBound to find your local shop. Or a library. Just not ~tHe RivEr~.
Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo is next. Until then, I leave you with
ONE FINAL DUMB OPINION:
I will NEVER forgive Irish Tom for forgetting about the art teacher's letter and you shouldn't either. Deliver people's mail, dammit!
The spoiler is below. Thanks for coming by.
Little lower. You're almost there.
Here I am! HA! I tricked you.
*SPOILER: The original ending explains what happened to the missing girls and Miss McCraw. You remember everyone's watches acting funny and everyone being tired and Miss McCraw talking crazy about triangles and everyone getting in their underpants? Turns out, the students came along a time warp. Someone got overwhelmed or couldn't breath for some reason, so they took off the corsets (Lindsay previously wrote about them in semi-detail so h/t to her for all the foreshadowing) and threw them but then THEY HANG IN MID-AIR! They HANG over the ROCK. Anyways, the girls follow McCraw into the time warp that's accessed via a narrow passage into the rock and that scares Edith off because YEAH and then Irma plops back into our time a few weeks(?) later and narrowly dodges a BORING marriage to Michael Fitzhubert. To which I say:
The other girls disappearing is honestly, super sad. Except Marion Quade. She's rude for no reason and probably loves measuring crap in her little time warp with her ruler. I loved Miranda and poor little Sara and while I absolutely stand by everything I said above, I just know if Sara was allowed to go on the picnic she would have followed Miranda and gone with her :(
And that's it. Go read it. And talk to me about it.