(I’m duplicating this particular section in Hypercompendia as it truly relates to hypertext)
We are in the center of a discussion regarding the Reader and the Other Reader and their eventual intimacy, thus bringing them together just as has the reading of a novel. Calvino here notes the differences in reading and the act of sex, and yet in the hypertext format, the difference is nearly eliminated. In fact, this passage brings to mind Shelley Jackson’s Patchwork Girl.
Lovers’ reading of each other’s bodies (of that concentrate of mind and body which lovers use to go to bed together) differs from the reading of written pages in that it is not linear. It starts at any point, skips, repeats itself, goes awkward, insists, ramifies in simultaneous divergent messages, converges again, has moments of irritation, turns the page, finds its place, gets lost. A direction can be recognized in it, a route to an end, since it tends toward a climax, and with this end in view it arranges rhythmic phases, metrical scnasions, recurrence of motives. But is the climax really the end? Or is the race toward that end opposed by another drive which works in the opposite direction, swimming against the moments, recovering time? (p. 156)
In Hypertext, there is a ‘whole’ of narrative that is made up of bits of data or information that may or may not be necessary to the full understanding or enjoyment of the story. Similar to the familiar ‘maybe she liked that but I sure as hell don’t’ with learning of what turns a particular person on sexually. A tweak that doesn’t work may be a metaphor that grants insight that only few will find meaningful.
As an aside, I love the way Calvino uses language that suits what he is saying, i.e., "rhythmic phases."
I found this particularly interesting: "But is the climax really the end?"
What better said description of the first reading of a hypertext piece? I know I always find myself wondering what I’ve missed, what wrong turns I’ve made (we’re talking about hypertext here!) and if I have come out of the story with the same sense of satisfaction (or dissatisfaction) had I taken an alternate route. Am I judging what I’ve held as the meaning of the story with knowledge of all data necessary to come up with an honestly based conclusion?
The neat part of hypertext then, is that like sex, you want to go back and do it again.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology