please critique my opening passage

Hii~

Maybe it's just me, but I thought there were 2 people here, a twenty year old, and a middle-aged one. I'm not quite sure what "middling sort" would mean, but then again I'm from Canada, so if that doesn't apply to you, then leave it. (however it did throw me into confusion later on)

"displaced" means to shift or move, doesn't it? So do you mean displaced his gaze or shifted his gaze or.....?

There's a lot of specific detail here. Does he know distinctively that it's the scent of CEDAR trees and wood fires? Also, you've already said "Country air, so clear and fresh", so "balmy air" is redundant. Do you mean "carried the intoxicating scent..." instead of "carrying..."?

Could you find a different way to say these things, maybe? Maybe "a scowl tugged at his lips/mouth" "he relaxed"....

Just a typo you missed: Though instead of Thought.

The whole section where you talk about him sitting in the carriage is loose and distracting. What's the purpose of it? Could you make it a bit clearer? Is the countryside view really THAT important? Overall, it's fine if you make him seem skittish, but I think it'd be better if it was more focused. I basically get this: Gazing at view. Thinking about home. (Oh, and on that part: "awkward claustrophobia and almost paranoiac dreaminess of Petersburg" - what? dreaminess can be paranoic? claustrophobia described as awkward is strange. It's phobia; I would hardly say a phobia is "awkward".) Why is he glancing at me so? I think you could strengthen this part.

"Finally" makes it seem like the coachman waited ten minutes before replying to Alek. Which probably isn't the case. And "The coachman asked" isn't really needed, as there are only 2 people in the carriage and it's pretty clear he's asking something.
You could cut out a lot of the "the driver responded" "he asked"--I see "he asked" a lot and there's only two people. It slows it down.

Hope this helped!
PS- you might want to copy and paste the critique guidelines form (length, draft, critique tolerance etc) and fill it out in your critique. We know what you're looking for and what you're not looking for then.

~Aylie

i could remove all the things that you say, but then wouldn't i be cutting out all the prose and leaving it to sound as dry and dull as hemmingway... perhaps i should specify that the book is about 19th century russia. middling sort means middle class, and the flowery and almost redundant prose echos more closely with the times, than the world we live in.

so perhaps you need to know what i am going for. I greatly admire dostoevsky... this book is based on different events, but it is sort of my homage to early russian existentialism...

anyways, here are my revisions... let me know what you think...

(p.s. I hope you aren't taking it out on me, that I thought your story needed work. I really only told you that because I see the potential it has, and I hope you will keep writing it.)

Chapter One: The Young Man From Petersburg

On a brisk morning in late November, a rusty, old coach carried by three horses traveled down the road from Petersburg. Seated in the coach was a young man of twenty years –a gentleman of the middling sort—though he showed striking signs of recent poverty. His pale skin was stretched tightly over a distinct face, his boots were in tatters and his coat was worn to the threads. On his face, he carried the unconscious scowl of a man strained by his own thoughts.
“Perhaps it is all for nothing,” he thought to himself, shifting his displaced gaze to the countryside as it brushed past his window like an old landscape painting. A momentary relaxation came to his face, as he realized he would soon be amongst the vast, rolling meadows and sweet country air of his childhood; a far cry from the awkward claustrophobia and almost paranoiac dreaminess of Petersburg. The scowl quickly returned to his face at the thought of the city he left behind. Fading memories hung in his mind of the city covered in a thick fog. The way one could walk down the street during the thaw, and see nothing but the hypnotic orange glow, radiating from the street lamps, and the shadows of ghost figures appearing through the darkness, in a city of ghosts. “All this, uprooting myself, for the sake of a night terror.” He again thought to himself, “Perhaps indeed it is all just meaningless rubbish, perhaps I am a coward, nothing better.” He couldn’t help but notice the coachman peering in at him periodically, as if he were some kind of spectacle. He checked himself at once for some flaw, or strange mannerism, feeling at once a sharp self-awareness. “Perhaps it is my ghastly appearance,” he thought to himself. “Is there something the matter?” he asked at last, meeting the inquisitive glare of the coachman.
“There is no trouble sir, just wondering who I might have the pleasure of taking along this morning?” The coachman replied timorously, but allowing his curiosity to get the better of him nonetheless.
“The name is Alek Iosifovich.” The young man responded dryly. “Do you expect we shall arrive on time?” He asked, after a momentary pause.
“Quite so, quite so, though we will have to stop at Nikolskoe for horses. I suppose you will want to have lunch there?” The coachman asked. Alek had to think for a moment. He tried to make an internal map: where exactly was Nikolskoe?
“I suppose so, Nikolskoe is the last place along the road, isn’t it?” asked Alek.
“Indeed it is.” The driver responded simply.
Alek didn’t really want to stop. Not even for the horses. A strange urge compelled him to just keep going, as if stopping along the way meant looking back at the paranoia, which compelled him to leave in the first place. “Is it my paranoia that I fear most?” he thought to himself, realizing at once that it was. In Petersburg he was all alone. It is a man’s secret thoughts, which becomes his greatest enemy, when he is left alone. For the past three weeks he had lain sick in bed.

I am EXTREMELY sorry if you even thought of that. I wasn't thinking ANYTHING like that...If you thought the critique made no sense or was too harsh, then I'm sorry, really sorry. But I was just trying to help.

Again, sorry if I made you feel bad or anything.

~Aylie

On a brisk morning in late November, a rusty, old coach carried by three horses traveled down the road from Petersburg. Seated in the coach was a young man of twenty years –a gentleman of the middling sort—though he showed striking signs of recent poverty. His pale skin was stretched tightly over a distinct face, his boots were in tatters and his coat was worn to the threads. On his face, he carried the unconscious scowl of a man strained by his own thoughts.

I like the images you invoke but the first few sentences are passive. (I understand that when writing things often come out like this, mine sure does, but then I try to go back and get rid of the "was" for active verbs.)

Suggestion:
On a brisk morning in late November a rusty old coach carried by three horses traveled down the road from Petersburg to __?__ . It's sole passenger, a gentleman of the middling sort, showed striking signs of recent poverty,
His pale skin was stretched tightly over a distinct face, his boots were in tatters and his coat was worn to the threads. Je wore an unconscious scowl of a man strained by his own thoughts.

I think the rest of it flows well and I really like how you show his memories, likes and dislikes in the next part.

A momentary relaxation came to his face, as he realized he would soon be amongst the vast, rolling meadows and sweet country air of his childhood; a far cry from the awkward claustrophobia and almost paranoiac dreaminess of Petersburg. The scowl quickly returned to his face at the thought of the city he left behind. Fading memories hung in his mind of the city covered in a thick fog. The way one could walk down the street during the thaw, and see nothing but the hypnotic orange glow, radiating from the street lamps, and the shadows of ghost figures appearing through the darkness, in a city of ghosts.

There are certain words that I find extraneous but that may just be my own style so I'm not saying I think they MUST come out (the words in parhenthesis are okay, I'm just putting them so you know which words I am referring to):
displaced (face), momentary (relaxation), almost (paranoiac), (scowl) quickly, meaningless (rubbish).

I hope this helps,
Cherrie

If you follow forum rules it makes it easier for people to critique you. i.e. all of that stuff that's in the "Critique & Swap Guidelines - Read before Posting!" because if you don't, you really have no reason to complain about any critique someone gives you... you are putting it out there so they can say what they like. So please look it up, it's second thread from the top.

im not sure why everyone is so obsessed with the guidelines, i understand that it helps make everything formal, but soppose I want something that is informal...

However, I just find people on here to be unhelpful, so I've moved off of the internet (which is liable to people basing reviews off of a personal opinion) to a writers group. In any case, I think by several key words like COACH carried by HORSES ect. that people should get that it isn't taking place in the present.

Regardless, I find this to be a rather useless community, as so many internet bulletin boards are. So I've decided to work with people who are writers and intellectuals, as well as showing my work to college professors. I've improved on this passage a great deal by doing this, and I suggest that anyone else who is SERIOUSLY writing, should take their work to REAL teachers, and human beings.

Furthermore, never ask somebody if they like your work, ask them what they imagine as they are reading it.

Alright, should I congradulate you...?

When I read your posts, I imagine an internet troll that is unwelcomed. This "useless community" gladly shows you the door! : )