The Further Adventures of...

I know my problem set is late; you can deduct 5% from my grade.

Word World Design Assignment 7 is, and I quote:

Design an all-singing, all-dancing show -- live, animatronic, or whatever -- that involves your audience in the further adventures of a favorite character in your genre.

Whoa, now, that's a toughy. Ruminating on the "involves your audience" part led me to realize that the various audience segments targeted for LitLand would be most fractured in their taste when it came to stage shows. Therefore, the entertainment requires a three-pronged approach.

Developing a further-adventures show for the starry-eyed reader is a piece of cake, as there's already a whole subgenre's worth of pre-made plots available, in the form of third-rate unauthorized sequels. My highly unscientific survey of the source material indicates that 97.624% of it consists of Jane Austen continuations. The pragmatic and commercially-minded Word World planners needed only to contact the purveyors of such drivel and auction off the rights. Unfortunately, the team pushing Mr. Darcy Presents His Bride were overtaken at the last minute by a dark horse delegation bidding on behalf of Scarlett. (Horribly true: the Publisher's Weekly review exerpted by Amazon includes the word, "ultra-mega-hyped.") Lucky audience participants draw straws to determine who gets to dress up in curtains, and who gets to portray a house-slave.

I shuffled through a few ideas to sell to the carefree intelligentsia. True story: while showering the other night, I was suddenly consumed by the urgent, violent, visceral drive to re-read Voltaire. I'd like to think this is the sort of thing that happens to the carefree intelligentsia, but, more certainly, it's the sort of thing the posseur would make a point of talking about, so I'll let the reader decide where my credibility currently stands. Anyhow, no matter how hard I tried to twist the moment into a stage show, it just wouldn't go - the end of Candide makes it painfully clear that the further adventures of those characters will be limited to gardening forevermore, and, while that might introduce all sorts of opportunities for audience involvement, it would also be horribly dull. So we look elsewhere.

Ultimately, I have to cheap out and rip off Jasper Fforde's Richard III encounter (if you haven't read The Eyre Affair, imagine a social phenomenon in which the masses take a Rocky Horror-style devotion (costumes and all) and apply it to a Shakespearean script - par for the course in Fforde's alternative-history Britain, which takes literature very seriously). I really can't improve on Fforde's concept - Richard III really is the perfect piece - but for the sake of originality, we can arrange an occasional seasonal switch-out for, say, The Pickwick Papers.

And for the posseur? One lucky audience member comes onstage for a fireside chat with an actor portraying, say, Andre Gide. Or Camus. Or Gertude Stein. (Every day is a surprise!) Naturally, the actor spends the entire time subtly mocking the participant, utterly unbeknownst to him. The song-and-dance part is provided by the line of cabaret dancers that cross the stage at unexpected intervals and for no apparent reason.

The fourth class of LitLand customers, the high school English teachers, should be able to find all three options equally delightful. Because that's what high school English teachers are like.

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Product Placement

First, a security issue.

Now, down to business. This week's Word World challenge: create a tie-in product to be branded by a LitLand author.

I started brainstorming ideas, and couldn't choose between them, so it seems that the retail focal point of Literature Land will be the imposing and venerable Authors' Outlet. Centrally located and visible from most corners of the park (well, unless you're one of the Carefree Intelligentsia making out behind the statue of Cervantes), the shop will stock such treasures as:

• Charles Dickens Victorian Cuisine - packaged single-serving portions of goose dinner, plum pudding and gruel (flavored for the American palate: choose between apple cinnamon, apricot dragonfruit, and chocolate cilantro).
  
  
• Ernest Hemingway bait and tackle.
  
  
• Edith Wharton's self-pedigree workbook (packaged with complimentary fish fork).
  
  
• F. Scott Fitzgerald's signature lines of whiskey (sold under the label Zelda Blue) and better menswear accessories.
  
  
• Dostoevsky's Siberian-grade mittens.
  
  
• Proust's lap desk - a high-quality copy of the original! Certificate of authenticity included.
  
  
• Jane Austen's Something Blue line of sapphire pendants, each engraved on the reverse with a witticism from Ms. Austen's work. The perfect accessory for your special day.
  
  
• George Orwell's instant coffee. Comes in three roasts: Water, Dishwater, and, coming this fall, Rainwater. Saccharine included, except when it isn't.

In addition to the full range of endorsed products, Authors' Outlet will stock the official LitLand editions of all your favorite classics and the much-coveted official LitLand bookmark, available in 101 colors and 5 finishes.

Babes in LitLand

The challenge for Week 5 of Word World development: Create a kiddie attraction for Literature Land.

Here's where I need the major caveats. Kids aren't really my bag. I spent my childhood yearning for middle age. All I really know about children is...that's what people are before they become grown-ups. Yeah, that's it, they're like caterpillar humans, except that they don't spend adolescence in solitary confinement (pity, that). So, anyway, this won't be my best work.

Wonderland and Treasure Island are twin rides based on the works of Carroll and Stevenson, respectively. Since I'm told that boys and girls like different stuff sometimes, the selections represents a slight gender bias in each direction; however, the the development committee hopes that the distinctions are subtle enough that most kids will be more or less equally satisfied with both, the goal being to avoid ever being the subject of a socio-political editorial commentary in the A&E section of the New York Times.

In Wonderland, young Harriet and Humphrey, Jr. ride in suit-pip and chess piece-emblazoned cars with irregularly-shaped wheels for a journey through a Technicolor landscape of white rabbits, caterpillars, croquet and tea parties. Insert Victorian psychedelia here.

Treasure Island, of course, is a water ride. Greeted by Billy Bones himself, Harriet and Humphrey, Jr. board the mini-Hispaniola for a ride around the island and a tale of adventure, mutiny, treasure, and deficient personal hygiene.

Success of these attractions will consist in bearing little enough resemblance to existing works of the Walt Disney Company to maintain intellectual dignity and avoid lawsuits, while skirting close enough to hold onto the loyalty of the little urchins and their parents' dollars.

When Do We Eat?

Word World assignment, Week 4: Dining Options!

Conveniently located throughout the park, Library Carts let you grab a quick bite as you're dashing from your spin on The Metanarrative to the Darcy-Heathcliff fencing duel at the Literature Land Arena (10:30, 2:15, 5:00, daily except Mondays). Be sure to try Lit Land's signature snack, the book pop - like an ice cream sandwich, but with an extra strip of cake down one edge. Get it?

Ever read a dinner scene from a book and wished that you could share the meal? No, me neither, but I'm sure someone has. At Page 69, the largest dining establishment in Literature Land, you can order any meal featured in your favorite piece of literary fiction. Clarissa Dalloway's dinner party? Perfect. Italian mess hall fare from A Farewell to Arms? Sure. Jean Valjean's stolen bread? Easy. Boiled eggs - Big-endian or Little-endian? Oliver's gruel? Well...if you insist.

Pick out a book when you order your sandwich at L'Etranger, a cozy cafe conveniently located on the border of Literature Land and Plato's Academy. All tables are single-occupancy only, so read something! Beret optional.

What would have happened if William Faulkner, Anthony Trollope, Louisa May Alcott and Sancho Panza all met at a dinner party hosted by Norman Mailer? Well, you can find out at The Athenaeum, Lit Land's most exclusive eatery. Interspersed among the guest tables are groups of character players portraying the great personalities - real and fictional - of the literary universe. Reservations required; eavesdropping is encouraged.

Build-A-Quest Workshop

Week 3's assignment: an interactive attraction for Lit Land. My preliminary proposal, the one with the obstacle course and the mirrored helmets, didn't clear the Word World legal department, so that idea is being revised into Existential Golf: part part putt-putt course, part house of mirrors, part sculpture gallery (the mirrors are behind the sculptures, because existence always precedes essence). The development team believes this attraction would do better as the centerpiece of the yet-to-be-drafted Plato's Academy, the philosophy zone scheduled to be added to Word World during construction phase 2, (or possibly phase 3, depending on how the Conservation Commission hearing goes). In the meantime, Literature Land visitors get to act out in

Choose-Your-Own-Monomyth-Adventure

That's right, at this attraction, every Word World guest gets the chance to create his/her very own Hero's Journey! It all starts in the queue, a Minoan-style labyrinth, where the waiting crowd receives background information, advice, and pep talks from a series of animatronic Joseph Campbell clones. The visitor (we need a proto instance, like Wende's Monica - we'll call him Humphrey) then enters a small, individual chamber, where he receives a Call to Adventure, in the form of booming voice from the heavens, burning bush, or telegram.

Assuming Humphrey doesn't refuse the call (in which case, he's spit back out onto Main Street Lit Land, where the librarian-esque employees proceed to torment and humiliate him until he runs back to CYOMA to recant his foolishness and meet his destiny) he selects his preferred supernatural father figure and magical weapon/nugget of wisdom from an appealing variety of options on display, and and crosses the threshold into the new world world of his adventure.

Humphrey enters his Road of Trials, which forms the bulk of the CYOMA quest. This consists of a series of five increasingly difficult challenges - after each is successfully completed, he gets to choose the next from three options. The challenges offered depend upon the nature of Humphrey's Call to Adventure, but could include:

• Battle of wits with an archnemisis.
  
• Resisting the seductress.
• Surviving shipwreck.
• Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle.
• Feeding lunch to three toddlers. With ear infections.

If Humphrey succeeds in completing his challenges, he processes to an inner chamber, where he is presented with his boon, in the form of tokens redeemable at the Lit Land bookstore (not a gift shop...though it does sell Tolstoy action figures and Charles Dickens pencil sharpeners alongside the specially-for-Word World hardcover editions of all the books referenced in Lit Land). He is then returned to the outside world with glory and fanfare and the admonition to use his triumph for the good of humanity, rather than becoming disillusioned with the rest of the park.

The Metanarrative

Finally catching up on my Literature Land backlog (though my internet connection STILL isn't fixed...I'm going to have to put together enough time to reinstall Windoze).

Week 2's assignment is to develop a signature ride - a most sought-after destination for this corner of Word World. The ride that makes it into prime time advertising. This would be a good time to declare that there will be no roller coasters with precipitous drops in Literature Land. Because the chief development engineer really, really, really hates the feeling of free fall. Heck, the chief development engineer isn't even that wild about driving downhill. Literature Land rides will be noted for unexpected twists and turns, round-and-rounds, and rapid back-and-forths. And, hopefully, for ingenious irony.

Without further ado, we present...

The Metanarrative

This thrilling tour through the history of great literature is housed in a neo-classical academic building with grand white pillars and marble steps. Visitors line up to enter on a staircase inside an ivory tower and board the ride on the roof. The cars are in the shape of large, leatherbound books with gold-edged pages, joined together into trains of six by cords resembling ribbon bookmarks.

The booktrain enters the building though the side of the darkened cupola, to the sound of ambient music and chanting in an unrecognized language. After a few moments, a dim light rises to reveal scenes of Indo-European nomads gathered around a campfire, under the trace of a storyteller. The scenes evolve into Bronze Age Greece, and we realize that the blind storyteller is Homer. Suddenly, the car lurches to the left, and flashing lights reveal scenes of ancient literature: the Trojan horse at the city gates; Odysseus tied to his mast; Gilgamesh and Enkidu in the Cedar forest. Gradually we move through the early western tradition, until we find ourselves cutting through the middle of an Icelandic saga battle scene. Beowulf slays Grendel. A round table. Ten travelers dining in Fiesole. A pilgrimage on horseback. A knight tilting windmills.

The scenes move progressively through literary history, and come in greater concentration. The music and pace of travel intensify to match the changed pace of intellectual progress through the Renaissance and Enlightenment. We see Gulliver tied down by Lilliputians. A regency English country ball. A chaotic mass of Balzac characters tripping over one another. Victorian urchins. Emma and her lover. Anna and the train. And so forth, into the twentieth century.

Interspersed with the scenes from literature are iconic scenes of the literati. Plato lectures. Cicero expounds. John Bunyan writes in prison. Machiavelli presents in court. Proust scribbles away in bed, wrapped in a fur coat. Virginia Woolf has a room of her own.

The ride slows through recent history and comes to rest in a massive library. Passengers exit through a pillared hall and down the marble steps. Prominently displayed to the left is a box to collect complaints about the underrepresentation of eastern traditions on the ride.

Know Your Audience

Wende's spearheading the fun new Let's Design Literature Land game, and, insanely, I've signed up to create roller coasters based on Serious Literature. Assignment for Week 1: profile the consumer. I imagine the following folk strolling my corner of the park:

The carefree intelligentsia. Both likes and appreciates real literature; does not take self too seriously to visit amusement parks. Bored by bad books; merely ignores them. Gets all the snarky jokes in the park; takes it for granted. Visits Literature Land every summer and never really realizes there are other departments. Listens to NPR as much because Ira Glass would make an entertaining fishing partner as because CNN has nothing interesting to say. Secretly fantasizes about making out behind the big fiberglass statue of Cervantes. Finds it truly charming that the George Eliot and Thomas Pynchon attractions are next door to each other.

The Poseur. Generally aged 16-25. Tries very hard to be bored by bad books. Feels elite for knowing who Sartre was. Or, alternatively, feels elite for claiming an interest in existentialism, yet doesn't know who Sarte was. Believes in the genius of Salinger. Makes sure everyone in the vicinity knows that he gets all the snarky jokes. Listens to NPR for the bragging rights. Often majors in something like computer science, and imagines that an English degree involves as little work before graduation as it guarantees afterward. Snubs the George Eliot attraction while fawning over the Thomas Pynchon, while possessing only a passing familiarity with either. Nods knowingly upon reading this description - he knows a lot of people like that.

The starry-eyed reader. Nearly always female. Reads voraciously for pleasure. Defines "for pleasure" as "for entertainment." Read Anna Karenina at age 32, though, mercifully, not at Oprah's recommendation; was surprised by the ending. Authors blog entries along the lines of, "The Guermantes Way was sooooooo good!!!!!" Prefers Celine Dion CDs to NPR (while carpooling). Experiences imagined feminist pride on discovering that George Eliot was female. Has never heard of Thomas Pynchon. Genuinely believes there's no sex in Jane Austen.

High School English Teachers. Requires no explanation. Occasionally spotted with field trips.

Now, for a name...I suppose "Literature Land" would be the no-brainer choice, if it weren't already taken by the whole park. So I guess I have to be creative. We could go library-themed, something like The Stacks, but that's a bit self-conscious, and not terribly clear. We could concatenate the literary with theme park camp, for a result like Belles-Lettres Bayou...but actually, that sounds like an awkward tribute to Walker Percy. Or we could raid the dictionary of rhetoric and come up with something like Alley Anastrophe or Denouement Drive, both of which are vaguely ridiculous and difficult to pronounce. In other words, I could probably use some help. Cute names are not my forte - if ever I have children, I'll probably try to get away with numbering them.