The First Line – Fall 2005

Incipit: “Having little to his name when he died, the reading of Henry Fromm’s will went quickly.” I’m willing to overlook the dangling modifier in this issue’s first line (though many outraged “writers” did not, say the editors) because, after all, it’s the end product that counts: seven short stories and even a poem, all beginning with this opening sentence.

Incipit: “Having little to his name when he died, the reading of Henry Fromm’s will went quickly.” I’m willing to overlook the dangling modifier in this issue’s first line (though many outraged “writers” did not, say the editors) because, after all, it’s the end product that counts: seven short stories and even a poem, all beginning with this opening sentence. They take their time to diverge from each other—one can only do so much with the will and testament device—but in the end, you can’t go wrong with the results. The First Line has done the smart thing, filled the vacuum, really, by transforming this creative exercise/parlor game into a publishable collection; it’s just that the collection feels like an exercise and no more. Most of the pieces try to recreate Henry Fromm as an eccentric in a high-culture environment, with several stories set in Europe. One of the better lines appears in Julie Mayhew’s story of Henry the serial monogamist: “For keeping eight wives in the manner to what they have become accustomed tends to leave a man with little folding stuff to pass round when the judgment day comes.” Another story portrays him as a New Age devotee, another as a time traveler attending his own funeral. The “Favorite First Lines” postscript suggests that this line was inspired by another funeral story, Graham Greene’s Travels With My Aunt. The First Line, even as an exercise, shows us how writers from different backgrounds can converge, and remain distinct, with a shared starting point. [www.thefirstline.com]