Book View Café is a
publishing cooperative, both in the business and the friendly sense of the
word. We offer one another all the services a traditional publisher would
normally provide, everything from editing a previously-unpublished work to
formatting and cover design, as well as the technical skills necessary to
operate the bookstore and website. Not all of us have such specialized
knowledge, but just about all of us can proofread a manuscript for another
editor.
I recently “carried my fair share” by proofreading the BVC
ebook edition of Marion Zimmer Bradley’s novel, The Catch Trap. (Actually, I was one of two proofreaders, so you
can pick which one of us to blame for any typos you find!) The Catch Trap one of those richly layered books that is “about” a
lot of different things. It’s a gay love story, sure, but it’s also about life
in a traveling circus at the twilight of that life, and it’s about all the ways
families destroy and save us. It’s about that rare bond of a shared vocation, a
calling, the thing that makes us most fully alive. Not just sex, but flying,
and more about that later.
One recommended study techniques for newer writers is to
type out a paragraph, a page, a chapter by a favorite author. Putting the words
down on paper helps you to perceive and understand what the writer did, how he
put together that scene. Proofreading and copy-editing are a little like that
because of the attention to detail – grammar, spelling, punctuation, incorrect
word choice. In this case, the file was from a scan of a print edition, and the
OCR software had added some odd glitches. I also had to read for homonyms and
typos that are still words, things a spell-checker wouldn’t catch. That meant I
had to pay attention not just to punctuation and oddly placed spaces, but to
the sense of the sentence. This required a different sort of attention than
ordinary pleasure reading or even editorial reading. The combination put me “inside”
the story, as if I were looking over Marion’s shoulder as she constructed it. I
say “constructed” because proofreading it was in some ways like moving, slowly
and carefully, through a hologram that contained not only three-dimensional
blueprints, but all the finishing touches.
When I first read The
Catch Trap several decades ago, I had no expectations beyond that it was a
novel by Marion Zimmer Bradley. I was only mildly curious about circus life.
The story greeted me where I was and led me into a world I knew very little
about, feeding me what I needed to know to appreciate what was going on. There
was a lot of information to transmit: not only the characters but their family
connections, the various jobs and training required, the color and atmosphere of
a traveling circus in the mid 1940s and all the ways in which it was a life
apart. On the first page, I met Tommy Zane, a kid from a lion-tamer family, and
on the second page, I watched Tommy and Mario Santelli, a brilliant trapeze flyer,
begin their friendship. The third page told me of Tommy’s longing to not follow
in his father’s footsteps as a “cat man”,
but to soar on the trapeze, which Mario then begins teaching him. So in the
space of the very beginning of the first chapter, Bradley set up the entire 600
page novel. There was no “shooting the sheriff on the first page,” nor huge
chunk of bewildering exposition, nor wandering characters who have nothing to
do with the central plot. Bradley told me up front what the story was going to
be: two men, their families, circus life, and most of all, their shared passion
for trapeze work.
Tommy’s admiration for Mario becomes interwoven with his
adolescent sexual awakening. The story could have unfolded without the sexual
relationship, with all the plot points being roughly the same. I can’t
speculate why Bradley chose to weave in a gay love story when an intense
working friendship might have sufficed; I can only look at the result. The Catch Trap was first published in
1979, hardly the heyday of tolerance, and the story takes place from 1944 to
1953, when there were very few places where open homosexuality did not carry
significant risk, often deadly. While I image that many readers in 1979 reacted
to the gay element for one reason or another, it seemed to me as I proofread
the book that it was only one of many interwoven themes. Bradley used it to contrast
and highlight the many repeated instances of alienation, privacy, and secrets –
between the circus and the mundane world, between various traditions and
circuses, between and within families. She uses the word “passion” to mean not
only sexual desire but fervor and longing for a rare and fleeting experience –
flying through the air in perfect timing and harmony with another person. Tommy
and Mario hold each other’s lives in their hands, not just in terms of how
dangerous it was to be gay at that time, and not just how deeply each could
wound the other, but their very lives.
In the end, as in the beginning, the story is not about sex,
it’s about a shared dream:
"Flying is supposed to look like one of those flight dreams, so simple that people can’t believe they can’t do it themselves...Just pure, simple, perfect. So everybody watching will want to cry, because they know somewhere inside, in their guts, that they had wings and could fly once but they just forgot how.”
By the end of the book, I shared that dream, too.
In case you don't live in an English-talking country, there are likely various nonnatives living nearby and i prefer to check out www.onlineproofreadingservices.net website that's good for all of us.
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