In Dreaming By the Book
, a path-breaking analysis of how novelists instruct us to form images in our minds as we read, Elaine Scarry devotes an entire chapter to stretching, folding and tilting. The exercise is this: In a dentist's office, what might stretch, fold, or tilt? Simply make a list of as many items as you can, and very briefly describe the way in which these stretch, fold or tilt.
There is nothing good about the dentist's office. Absolutely nothing. You sit in the little waiting room while your ears are tortured with the sound of drills and crying children. They try to cover up the horror with cheesy muzak, but it can't possibly mask the sounds of pure evil going on behind the examining room doors.
But that's not what this exercise is about. It's about stretching, folding and tilting...
Does anyone else hate the dentist's office as much as I do? Or am I alone in my pain?
Peace.
Stef.
P.S. If anyone else can think of other stretching, folding, tilting things you can find in a dentist's office, please regale us all. I, for one, am not willing to delve back into that catastrophic mental place.
, a path-breaking analysis of how novelists instruct us to form images in our minds as we read, Elaine Scarry devotes an entire chapter to stretching, folding and tilting. The exercise is this: In a dentist's office, what might stretch, fold, or tilt? Simply make a list of as many items as you can, and very briefly describe the way in which these stretch, fold or tilt.1,2,3, GO!
There is nothing good about the dentist's office. Absolutely nothing. You sit in the little waiting room while your ears are tortured with the sound of drills and crying children. They try to cover up the horror with cheesy muzak, but it can't possibly mask the sounds of pure evil going on behind the examining room doors.
But that's not what this exercise is about. It's about stretching, folding and tilting...
- the scary chair, of course, folds and tilts
- the overhead light does all 3, and quite menacingly, I might add
- the mirror thingy that they stick in your mouth to 1) push your tongue out of the way or 2) look at the hard-to-reach places tilts
- the elastic on the dental hygienist's face mask - the part that wraps around his or her ears - stretches
Does anyone else hate the dentist's office as much as I do? Or am I alone in my pain?
Peace.
Stef.
P.S. If anyone else can think of other stretching, folding, tilting things you can find in a dentist's office, please regale us all. I, for one, am not willing to delve back into that catastrophic mental place.
Comments
Just a few ideas....
Now I go just to get it over with.. and lately it's been nothing but bad news. So I've stopped eating sugar. For now.
But all that poking and prodding really is no fun!
from the stretchy category, the rubber dam that dentists snap onto the tooth anchors to keep tooth particulate from collecting in our throats;
and then that means the metal sprung clamps that anchor the rubber dams, given that they stretch and snap onto your teeth, even if they are not rubber;
rubber bands associated with braces stretch, of course;
then the rubber gloves, which they stretch onto their hands;
x-ray machine folds and tilts;
and the x-ray film holder folds and tilts as well;
the lead apron shield folds;
the anesthesia is stored in a bottle that is tilted before being dispensed;
the paper towel from the dispenser also folds;
which means, unfortunately, that the floss, cotton gauzes, towels and even clothing demand to be included in the foldable category;
socks and hosiery probably need to be included in the stretchy foldy categories, along with underwear and/or their elastic bands;
and this might be too obvious, the human animal is a stretchy tilty foldy thing, and so the dentist and the hygienist need to be included;
and perhaps finally, time, which seems to stretch interminably whenever you are either sitting in the waiting room with your toothache, or waiting for the casting compound to set while your plugged nose wants to sneeze.
Not sure if this exhausts the office, but...
Your mouth stretches when you open it wider than what you're normally used to.
The bib folds, and so does your tongue (kind of..).
I think dentists also use those magnifying glasses attached to their heads (I'm not entirely sure because I always squeeze my eyes shut), but those can go under "things that tilt."
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I'm thinking of flags and astrophysics.
Time stretches to an eternity as I approach the chair. With some trepidation I sit down and slide my legs across the vinyl surface. As I glance up at the light the chair begins to tilt backward, forcing me into a more compliant pose. Trembling just a bit I open my mouth to prepare for the dentist's first glance of my bare naked teeth. The dentist reaches for some sharp object and I feel my mind fold in on itself in order to preserve my sanity.