Narrative style workshop

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Narrative style exercise
(Source material: Paul Simpson, Language Through Literature, 1997, Routledge)

Prompt: read the following newspaper report which describes certain events that took place in 1922. The report appeared in the New York Tribune and details the execution of six Greek cabinet ministers.

Now compose a short story based on the events portrayed in the newspaper text in 200 words. Feel free to omit events that you feel are less central to the main story, or to amplify certain details which you feel are thematically significant.

(PS: this exercise was given in class, and the students had around 20-25mins to come up with their own, personal version of the event).

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ATROCITIES MARKED GREEK EXECUTIONS OF FORMER LEADERS

Uncensored Account Brought From Athens – Dead Man Was Propped Up in Line

GOUNARIS NERVED BY DRUG

Ex-Premier, Dying From Illness, Was Artificially Stimulated to Stand. LONDON, Dec. 20 – The Daily Express published the first detailed account of the recent executions of the Greek ex-Ministers supplied by its correspondent who was lately in Athens.

M. Gounaris, an ex-Premier, was in a hospital in a very critical condition. About 11 a.m. he was taken out on a stretcher, placed in a motor van and driven to a place about one and a half miles outside of the city. He was left lying on his stretcher in a dying condition while the car went back to fetch five others from the prison where they had all been confined in a single room.

To begin the horrors of that morning it was discovered by the guards that one of the five had died in the van on the way out from heart failure.

On the arrival of the van Gounaris was lifted out of the stretcher to stand up and face a firing party. It was then found that this wretched man, who, after all, had been a figure in the recent history of Europe, was unable to stand at all. He was thereupon given sufficient injections of strychnine to strengthen the action of his heart to enable him to stand up in front of the firing party. The man who had died on the way out was propped up beside him – a ghastly line of four live men, one half alive and one dead man.

They were then asked – Gounaris, the dead man and all – if they had anything to say, an appalling instance of mockery. No reply was (121) made, but M. Baltazzis took out his monocle, polished it and put it back again. General Hadjanestis calmly lit a cigarette. The order to fire was given. The moment the prisoners fell the firing party rushed forward and emptied their revolvers into the corpses. Including that of the man who had died on the way from the prison. The bodies were then thrown into a lorry and taken to a public cemetery just outside of the city and were thrown out casually in a heap in the mud which covered the ground.

New York Times, Dec. 20, 1922.

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Student version - Jade Weill

I was lying in this white and empty room, wondering where I was exactly. All of a sudden I heard voices through the door, though I couldn’t figure out the words. Maybe they could help me recall what was going on. A small group of men entered, all dressed in uniforms and they didn’t seem very helpful. They dragged me out of the bed to a van. I was too weak to… I could feel the van moving, and the holes and bumps in the road but I couldn’t open my eyes. Out of the blue I felt vigorous again, as if an electricity jolt had gone through my entire body. I looked around me: we were still in the van, but the van was parked in a no man’s land. A syringe was lying on the floor. Now I understood. My fellow companions were all brought here. Poor Nikos was lying in the mud, but he wasn’t moving anymore. I wish I could have been dead already. We were all brought in front of a firing party, including Nikos. We were asked if we had anything to say. What would we have had to say anyway? The General facing us lit a cigarette. The men aimed at us.

The clock was ticking in General Hadjanastis’ office. 11.15 am. Gounaris must be in the van now, heading to the spot his lieutenant had checked out last Monday. Hadjanestis thought it was time he met his officers there. He asked for his driver and arrived 20 minutes later at the chosen spot. Gounaris was almost unconscious, lying in the mud, well guarded by officers. The van had already departed to fetch the other felons. What a shame! He thought. The firing party is going to be spoiled if the dead-to-be are already almost dead. 5 minutes passed and Gounaris’ 5 accomplices arrived in the same van Gounaris had been transported in earlier. One of the men was dead. Huh, thought Hadjanastis, let’s at least get the half-dead back to life so he can enjoy the firing party. He ordered that strychnine be administered to Gounaris. Greece’s former elite men were then placed in front of the aiming soldiers. Hadjanestis’ lieutenant asked if they had anything to say. No word was uttered. Hadjanastis thought it was high time to end it all. He lit a cigarette, stared at the condemned men, and waived his hand to his lieutenant as a signal to shoot. Pow! Hadjanestis slowly moved back to his car. He had a lunch to attend at the ministry. His lieutenant knew how to handle the bodies.

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Student version – Nadège Jacquin

My name is General Hadjanestis. Many people say I’m a bastard, a “f***ing bloody traitor.”

Honestly, I think that might be true but, guess what, that’s not my problem anymore. The only thing that really pisses me off now is that I always thought I would be buried back home, at Philantropis, where I was brought up. But I can’t see that happening … today is execution day for me and the other five and I have the feeling our last bed will be more like a hole in the mud than a five star-coffin!

Shit! I only have one cigarette left… too bad, I’m gonna have to wait one more hour before lighting it.

Here they come, the justice makers. A dirty van and good company for my last trip, it goes with the general picture of this day, I guess.

I wonder were we are, looks like we have been driving for a few miles or so outside the city.

Stephanopoulos couldn’t even make it. They seem to be disappointed. The bastard died before they could shoot the first bullet… I like the irony. But it looks like he will be standing with us no matter what!

Here we are. One last word? “F*** you” crosses my mind but I think it’s too vulgar, and I have my last cigarette to smoke.

Ready, steady, die.

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