The Familiar

[Lizzie]

Hi, River. I googled Cafe du Monde, and I'll be ordering their beignet mix and special propriety coffee/chicory blend straightaway.   

I like the idea that others had about the familiar being an assistant to a witch or a vampire. It does make sense of the increasingly pallid canvas. New Orleans does have a general reputation as a greenhouse for the cultivation of certain kinds of belief in the supernatural. I've been to Marie Laveau's House of Voodoo myself. But, this interpretation feels tenuous at best. My top line advice is to put in something else to help reinforce preferred interpretations so that we don't all get washed away in the next hurricane. 

The Familiar


There is a kind of person who always eats
four eggs a day, who makes coffee for two
and sets aside half of the drink
for all those mornings when he or she -- I'm taking the "he or she" repetition as someone refusing to say "they," like social commentary on pronoun confusion. I can't decide if the narrator is refusing to say "they" or if it's the characters who insist on the binary....  There must be some reason why you're doing this because it certainly doesn't sound pleasant to the reader. 
could not be bothered to carefully weigh
his or her beans and water. This person always sleeps
at nine, stirs at six, and goes to work
three hours after waking up. Their job? 

Stretched out on a table is a leather
canvas turning paler and paler
as the hours come in. The chat begins
with that day's weather, then the crossword,
what comics are repeated,
before they move on to the major reports --
what movies are hits, which stars to court --
as jars, then cabinets, are filled.

At twelve o'clock, it's time for lunch,
at one it's time for tea. Always they heat -- It's about this point where I just want to start skimming. The problem is that you're asking the reader to stick around for way too long while you regale them with dull details. If there was a pleasant meter and rhyme, I would feel differently. 
twelve ounces of water for their pot
of two teaspoons' worth of leaves rolled up
by some poor chap from China -- Unless this detail is essential to the story that I'm presumably missing, I would cut this bit. It feels like a digression. I understand the issue of unsustainable farming practices and unfair trade in the tea/coffee industry, but it feels inconsistent with the rest of the piece. It takes the reader's eye away from the story and flings it across the world only to end up right back where we started. 
and, without fail, they come to need
the toilet for right when they've done -- Is it necessary to hear about their bowel movements? The big idea seems to be repetition of the familiar, of habit, and old routines, and it's well established at this point. I don't need more examples unless they are essential to the story. 
with their strawberry jam and scones. 

For evening leisure, sometimes they read
Beckett, but more often Pound. -- So dry.....   In light of the ongoing conversations about Pound and antisemitism here in the forum, this detail feels unmistakably germane. However, unless the reader is a part of this forum, that connection could be less clear.  
"More often now do I reflect
on the little garden kept
by two dear friends of ours, too often dusted
during our visits with tar and ash -- I take the tar and ash to be the liberal sprinkling of powdered sugar on the confections there. Or perhaps it's tar and ash from cigarettes? 
like a plate of Cafe du Monde's"
is how they hear the answer to

a simple "What's the time?"
"You know, the Jew -- The lack of punctuation at the end must be significant, but I cannot ascertain. Hopefully others will prevail where I've failed. 

I want to like this. I think there's something profound here. It's just soooo dry. Maybe a refrain would help reinforce the idea of repetition? 

My advice: more is not always better, sometimes it's just more. 

Also, rhythm/rhyme to help push the reader past any boredom. It will help with the dryness like a quality, silicone lubricant. 

Hope this helps,

Lizzie