Hi Guys I really recommend you read this in its entirety, it is excellent. It was originally posted in Flash II by Neil Nixon, so the credit is all his.
The orginal (in Broad Cumbrian dialect)and then a version you can understand. It does make the point that flash fiction is a good vehicle for moving between different layers of meaning with a halfway decent idea. Something that struck me when I read Dave Eggers story about how fish feel about water.
Neil
BABEL CUDDY
‘How ist thoo deein', eh?’ said the teacher, like.
‘A’m no' sech a barie fettle in’t 'ead,’ said the charver, like. ‘A don’t ge' wha' yer on abou' wid stories an' that. Them meta-things an' that, don’t mek sense, like eh.’
‘Well,’ sez t’teacher, ‘there’s more ter a story than jus' the things tha' 'appen, like eh. That’s the grea' cowie abou' tellin' tales, like eh. Thoo can use the events ter tell yan story an' the way thoo pu' the story together ter say summa' else, like eh. Noo, if tha' story is abou' a story an' i' shows people summa' abou' the way stories wuk, it’s called a metafiction, like eh. If i' uses real an' impossible bits a' the same time an' meks them all par' ov the same story i' migh' be using magic realism, like, like eh. Suppose thoo read a story abou' a sprin' day when everythin' wuz full ov life an' in the middle ov the story a five bar ya' lowp' awwer a cuddy, tha' would be magic realism, like, like eh. The ya' an' the cuddy wouldn’t be possible bu' i' would mek sense in the way tha' everythin' seems ter be full ov life in sprin'. Imagine noo tha' me tellin' thoo this is written doon, pu' on some flash fiction site on the Interne' an' presented in the broad Cumbrian we’re both speakin'. Somebody expectin' i' in plain English would find words like ‘Metafiction’ an' ‘Magic Realism’ leapin' ou' a' them before they made sense ov the res' ov this larl story, like eh. These words would give them some clue abou' wha' wuz gan on, like eh. Once they’d struggled through everythin' else they’d understand uz conversation, tel' as a story, as a way ov mekkin' a poin' abou' how stories ge' tel'. A' would be a metafiction, like eh. 'esta gan' i' noo, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh?
‘Aye,’ thanks, ‘said the charver, that’s a righ' barie way ov tellin' i'.’
BABEL DONKEY
‘How are you doing?’ said the teacher.
‘I’m not feeling so good in the head’ said the boy. ‘I don’t get what you’re on about with stories and that, them meta-things and that, don’t make sense.’
‘Well,’ said the teacher, ‘there’s more to a story than just the things that happen. That’s the great thing about telling tales. You can use the events to tell one story and the way you put the story together to say something else. So, if the story shows people something about the way stories work, it’s called a metafiction. If it uses real and impossible events together and shows them as all being part of the same story it might be using magic realism. Suppose you read a story about a spring day when everything was full of life and in the middle of the story a five bar gate leapt over a donkey, that would be magic realism. The gate and the donkey wouldn’t be possible but it would make sense in the way that everything seems to be full of life in spring. Imagine now that me telling you this is written down, put on some flash fiction site on the Internet and presented in the broad Cumbrian we’re both speaking. Somebody expecting it in plain English would find words like Metafiction and Magic Realism leaping out at them before they made sense of the rest of this little story. These words would give them some clue about what was going on. Once they’d struggled through everything else they’d understand our conversation, told as a story, as a way of making a point about how stories get told. It would be a metafiction. Have you got it now?
‘Aye,’ thanks, ‘said the boy, that’s a right good way of telling it.’