The Object Correlative and the Unexpected Gesture

T.S. Eliot famously said that authors should no longer directly describe emotion in their characters. They must find an "object correlative:" a thing, an action, a scenario, that conveys the emotion without describing it outright. Flannery O'Connor said that authors should find an unexpected decision or reaction that their character makes that tells the whole story. The father who finds his son stealing cookies makes him eat all of them at once. The businessman who blows a sale laughs, or uses the contract he failed to sell to write a note to his wife.Today, the objective is to write a story that would keep both Eliot and O'Connor happy.***Antonio polished his guitar at the end of every recording session. In the evening he would kiss his wife Ella and their infant son Juli and climb the white staircase to his home studio. With a fresh silk square he spread oil over the wood in small circles. He started from the body, moved up the neck - here he would refold the square - and finished with the head. With two hands he placed it on a stand that was lit by soft lights he had asked for on his birthday. The guitar awaited him each morning, its soft curves glinting in the sun.At the dawn Antonio liked to play in the classical style, but Juli had developed a colic, and Ella often carried Juli to join him. The staccato cries of the child interfered with the smooth rhythm of Antonio's playing. He took to staying upstairs in his studio. Ella admonished him."Your son needs you," she said.The boy was small and sick and cried often. Antonio had been surprised at his birth that no wave of emotion had bonded him to the pink face bundled in blankets. He had seen his son and waited for his instincts to work for him, but the smile had faltered from the nurse's face as he stared at the boy and soon the woman gave his son to his wife.The evening it happened, he stayed out late after the session and had drinks with the boys. His mind didn't even wander to his son. It focused on his guitar, unprotected in the back seat of his car. When he left, he turned on his phone to a voicemail from his wife. He hurried home. He put his guitar on the stand, with one hand, without polishing it. In the baby's room his son's toys were spilled on the floor. On the changing table all that remained was a pair of tiny nail clippers. Antonio picked them up. They were so small.He did not know what to do. In a daze he carried the clippers upstairs to his studio. There he realized he did not want to play any music. The guitar shone in its soft light, perfect curves against the shadows. Antonio approached it. He took out the tiny nail clippers and snipped each string in turn. One cut him as the tension in the wire released. He did not flinch. The smallest string he clipped last, and turned and left the studio, leaving behind a trail of droplets of blood.***Getting Started: 2Character: 2Point of View and Tone: 2Plot and Narrative: 2Dialogue and Voice: 2Descriptive Language and Setting: 2Revision: 1Overall: 1*Level 1*