Story: Gorgon Waltz

Left, one two three, step, one two three, turn, one two three…

Hold on a second, says the younger sister, and each squeezes her eyes shut as they come to a stop—just a precaution, in case by some obscure miracle their timing isn’t synced quite correctly.
Ok what is it? asks the older sister, waiting to feel her sister behind her before she opens her eyes.

Half-turn on three, replies the younger sharply. One, two…

Wait! The older sister lifts her hands in the air, even though they are standing back to back. On three? Or one two three go?

One two three go, she answers, and holds her sister’s hand so that she doesn’t turn suddenly. Are you ready?

…

Alright. One, two, three… GO!

Each steps first with her left foot and makes an about-face, their spins timed perfectly so that their backs are always parallel. And facing the opposite direction, the older sister asks, What is it?

See the one right in front of you? the younger says, and the older looks down at a crouched statue: a man, frozen in an attempt to lift both his shield and sword simultaneously. His eyes are most definitely closed.

She looks, and it is as her sister says: his eyes are in fact squeezed tightly shut, which is significant because the question they have both infinitely considered, that which lies at the center of their existence alongside every vestige of hope, is whether it’s their gaze, or the fact of their gaze being received that turns the thing around them into stone. The latter theory might account for why natural objects such as grass, streams, trees, and sunsets seem to be unaffected by their looking at them—objects all more or less inanimate, and thus incapable of looking back. And oh, what a relief the sight of running water is! The burning glow of a sunset, in a world otherwise still and grey. By this latter theory, the two sisters should even technically be able to look upon each other, so long as one’s eyes are closed. Though neither has the metal to try, in case the former theory should prove correct. This statue with eyes closed also is not encouraging.

It doesn’t mean anything, the older assures her. She can feel her sister’s arms trembling. He could have closed his eyes the instant after we saw him: a miracle of timing. There now. Shh.

The sun sinks overhead, and the snow-capped peaks of the Pindus Mountains glow faintly orange in the twilight.

I know, I know, the younger sniffs, slowly pulling herself together. It’s not as if it matters anyway.

It does, the older insists, though again, she will not risk turning around.

There was a time when they were more bold; when the sisters numbered three, and during the day they would wander different parts of the garden, communing only at night when the darkness was thick enough to help keep them safe. When the two of them finally did find their other sister, their only way of knowing her was by her fearsome appearance, and how different she looked from every other statue in the valley. Her torso was drawn up in combat, her teeth bared and sharp, and from her head a din of serpents flailed. And though neither sister could have known of Perseus, or of the mirrored shield he’d been equipped with by Athena to help carry out the task, each guessed immediately the cause of their sister’s sudden stoicism: that she’d somehow caught sight of her own reflection (a fact which also supports the theory that their gaze must be returned in order for something to turn to stone, otherwise wouldn’t it have been Perseus who stood there frozen, mirrored shield and all?)

Though it filled them with grief, for days neither could tear her eyes away from their sister’s stolid effigy. It was the first they’d ever dared look upon her directly and, repulsive as the sight was, each discovered in the act of looking a certain tenderness, which managed to somehow make them feel closer to her than before. It made them wonder exactly which senses intimacy required? Which could be dispensed with?

The problem with either of their hypotheses of course is that they cannot be tested; the transformation to stone occurs faster than perception, and so it is impossible for them to ever know who looked at whom first, or whether their eyes ever did in fact meet. It is difficult even for them to know when someone has been turned to stone. More often than not, their only clue is a statue out of place, or one they do not recognize having suddenly appeared from nowhere.

So they hold one another behind their backs, maintaining constant contact, not longer allowing themselves to wander apart because it is clear to them now that the risk is too great. They each are the other’s sole company in this dreary existence; their one relief from a life of stone and stillness, and the only proof either has that consciousness is in fact fractured, and in fact meaningful. To dance is their lives’ one richness, their rebellion against the grey and the stillness. Back to back among the figures of their discontent they move, their timing trained, their steps practiced, living always in the knowledge that it would take only one false step to add a stone to their garden, and render their loneliness complete.

Left, one two three, step, one two three…

Perhaps to stumble is inevitable. They consider this possibility sometimes like an agnostic considers the afterlife; wondering first if it exists, and then what side of it she would find herself on. Whether it will be heaven or hell.

The moon rises. The stones shift from grey to anemic pale, and the sisters sleep also back to back.

Sister? the younger asks, feeling her warmth in the grass beneath her.

Yes?

She pauses before answering, feeling silly immediately, before she’s even spoken, though at last she comes out with it: What if a tree falls down, in the middle of the woods, and no one is there to hear. Do you think it makes a sound?

I don’t know, the older sighs, and again, several moments pass quietly before she adds in a whisper: I hope so.

An Itemized Update

It has been graciously brought to my attention by several of my most AVID readers that I haven't posted anything on here in quite some time. Apologies. Part of that can be explained by my absorption in other work, and part by my increasing awareness of copyright issues. As I continue to seek publication, it is important that I am able to grant accepting publications "first rights", and so it behooves me to refrain from posting anything here that I hope to one day publish elsewhere. Perhaps I'll let this be a dumping ground for those stories and poems that have been around the block a few times and now run out of change!

Anyway, without further adieu, here's a brief rundown of the things that have been going on with me literature-wise these past couple months:

-First of all, I have just had another piece of writing accepted for publication (in print this time) in a magazine called "Underground Voices." Burn Victim should be appearing there in December.

-Another piece of mine, Terms of Use, should be available online any day now. Just waiting for the good folks at Vivid Magazine to release their October issue. I will post a link as soon as they do.

-One project, that has sort of been put on the back-burner as of late, is a Zine that Shannon and I were collaborating on called "Smoke and Bowler Hats". It's mostly done now, and we're really just waiting for Shannon to catch enough of a breath from her new job (see below) to finish up the cover and final story. It will feature a number of my own stories along with illustrations and designs by her.

-Said job entails managing a new Austin business called Painting with a Twist, where you can sign up online to learn and create specific paintings all in one night. No experience is required and booze are encouraged. I have tried it myself and can vouch for the fact that it is extremely fun, and that, regardless of your experience level, you will walk away feeling amazed at what you can paint!

That's pretty much all I can think of now, but I do promise to be more attentive in the future. Thanks to those who have brought it up to me. Just to know that people are reading is itself a motivating force.

To those located in Austin...

Come check out this event on Thursday. Shannon is going to be painting along side a bunch of live muscians, and at the end of the night the painting will be auctioned off to the highest bidder, all proceeds going toward a good cause (i.e. Shannon's rent).

*Addendum- Check the photos.

The 'Art' in 'Artist'

Here are a couple of related articles that I think pair together in investigating the connection between an artist's character and his/her work. One is a pretty entertaining article about authors' drinking habits and what happens when they try to sober up, and the other is (ostensibly) about Budd Shulberg, the iconic screenwriter and director of "On the Waterfront" who died just last week, and who apparently named names for the House's Un-American Activities Committee back in the '60s.

Of course tales of authors' and artists' misconduct are legion, and while in some ways that imbues them with a certain enigmatic interest, it can also make us feel guilty sometimes for enjoying their work, particularly when the misconduct in question is ideological. We feel as if we are somehow being compromised, or that our unconsciousnesses are being influenced by sub-moral messages within the work. In the article on Budd Schulberg, the author (Randy Cohen) makes this good point:

"It’s hard to be a good person; it’s hard to produce great work. Most of us accomplish neither. To demand both might be asking more than human beings are capable of. To deprive oneself of great work created by a less-than-great person seems overly fastidious."

I believe I must agree. Check them out.

Suggested Reading

Here is an article by Tim Kreider posted on The New York Times' Happy Days blog. Though not exactly 'literary' in nature (unless by some over-stretched philosophical connection), I found it to be very good reading, and recommend that you check it out.

Literary Pranks and Padded Rooms: Literature Jests, but is Anybody Listening?

An article in the Chronicle (Washington's, not Austin's) takes a look back at a literary prank it took the Modernism/Modernity's (now questionable) readership five years to get. The prank in question was an article criticisizing David Foster Wallace, titled An Undeniably Controversial and Perhaps Even Repulsive Talent. Aside from the heresey of the sentiment (coded within an ironically Foster-esque title) the 'prankish' aspect of the article comes into play as early as the author's byline: Jay Murray Siskind, whom many will recognize as the quirky professor of Pop Culture in Don Delillo's epic White Noise. In the five years it's taken for the prank to be recognized, there have been many accounts of the article having actually been used as a secondary source for undergraduate and graduate research, which poses a number of fairly obvious problems with regards to contemporary scholarship (i.e. literary journals' ability to incorporate varied modes of writing, and whether or not they are being read to begin with) and collegiate students' frighteningly under-developed bullshit-o-meter. Do check out the article in full.

Fahrenheit 451, in the Age of Ebooks, May Have Been a Much Shorter Novel...

Sometime last week a number of Kindle users were surprised and a little vexed to find that several of their ebooks had been deleted from their devices, among them works by George Orwell (which I'm told is deeply ironic, although since I evidently missed that class in high school, I'm afraid I'm unable to confirm this). Amazon's explanation was that they had evidently been contracting a third party to upload books into ebook form, and this third party had managed to do so with a number of books without first obtaining copyright. Once the error was discovered, Amazon remotely deleted those books from the Kindles that had purchased them, and refunded those customers' money.

Now many people are up in arms though, and for good reason. The slippery issue of ownership had already been a topic of discussion and some debate with regards to the ebook, but now there is also a lot of talk going on about the future of book-baning. Across time and history, of course, the Press has been notoriously difficult to control due to how diverse and spread out it is. Imagine though, how different it might be if all it took to wipe a book off the face of the Earth was a corporate will, and a few complicated raps on the keyboard?

Amazon has already announced that in the future it will not 'recall' already-purchased materials, and so many people believe the current anxiety is both paranoid and ill-founded. Perhaps. Although I admit that I wouldn't mind hearing Amazon address some of these concerns directly. I haven't given up on ebooks yet as a worthwhile medium, but clearly there are still some valid issues that need to be addressed.

More Vampires...

There was a time, I think, when vampires' immortality was just a fictional convention-- an aspect of the vampire's figure, rather than its literary function. But as TV networks continue to churn out more and more vampire series', and as the commentary on this phenomena spirals ever-outward, I'm beginning to think there's something more to vampires'... persistence. Anne Rice's character, Louis, of the seminal Interview with the Vampire, now strikes me almost as a kind of meta-character-- a vampire-prophet: the way his presence transcends historical and cultural bounds, shifting in quality as the times themselves shift, while at the same time always reflecting some critical aspect of the society he preys upon. When we consider the ebb and flow of vampires in mass media, as well as how their presence there has developed, the similarity of these two visions are all but clear, and we begin to see just how undying they truly are.

This month's issue of Bookslut contains an article by Jessica Ferri re-examining the Twilight phenomena... yet again, but despite the fact that these commentaries are becoming as redundant as the genre itself, I find that I cannot fault her. Vampires are irresistible. They're sexy, mysterious, and at the same time, deeply iconographic-- a veritable wet dream for critics with a pulse (pun?). After all, it's interesting to look at how they've developed over time. How, in their considerable lifespan, vampires have gone from being the quintessential and morally dubious 'Other', to a virtual Everyman kind of figure; their struggle with bloodlust mirroring our own (supposed) struggle to maintain sexual purity. Such reflections are interesting the first, second, and even the third time we make them, but now, I'm afraid, they are done.

Everyone seems to have some disparaging and urgent thing to say about vampire literature, but frankly, its beginning to sound like the anxious chatter of addicts trying to talk their way out of an addiction. Enough already! (Although I'll admit in writing this, I too am perhaps implicit.)

One thing that does make Ferri's article a bit more interesting, however, than the typical pulp literature debasement, is the attention she pays to Twilight's all-too-human heroine, Bella, comparing her at length to the author's preferred Buffy (i.e. The Vampire Slayer):

Bella is your typical teenage girl, and Meyer wants to emphasize her ordinariness by making her one of the most boring, annoying obstinate heroines ever... Doesn't it say something about women's lib if the dice has rolled from Buffy, who slayed vamps without even breaking a nail, to Bella, who does nothing the entire book but whine to be deflowered by one?

Because it is funny and amusing, I do recommend checking out the full article. But mind you: just this last time. If I ever recommend another article concerning Twilight, or any other vampire-commentary, take it as a sign that I've been compromised and you should at that time cease to listen to anything I have to say. About anything.

Bibliophilia: Sounds like a sickness, doesn't it?

Evidently Borders has started its own online dating service guided by members' literary preferences. I would love to be able to say I'm surprised, but then I remember how many times I have stalked potential crushes' facebook profiles for their 'favorite books', and all of the sudden it all seems inevitable. I found out about the service from an article by David Barnett on the Guardian's BookBlog, and though my opinions are not nearly as cynical as his, I do imagine it would be a strange sensation to meet someone through, say, your shared love of Joyce-- like meeting your girlfriend through your mistress. You can check it for yourself:

'I don't know if Borders will actually be making recommendations for dates in the same way as they recommend books, but it would be priceless if members got regular email updates: "Did you enjoy, Mark, 34, of Swindon? Then you should try Gareth, 36, of Slough." Or: "After dating Sally of Birmingham, 86 per cent of customers go on to date Jayne of Devizes." '

Books and Technology

Here are a couple of articles I found through the Guardian newspaper's 'Books Blog':

The first is an article written by Michael Bywater about Amazon's Kindle (have one, by the way). In it he discusses some of the product's promising and not-so-promising features, from its capacity to make wireless purchases, to typographical issues, and the loss of reading texture the product seems to herald. He also has some interesting thoughts on what this could mean for the publishing industry, how the wireless aspect of the Kindle might be the thing that saves journalism, and how electronic and print media might actually come to support rather than exclude each other. Link to that article here. (p.s. check out some of the comments posted below the article bemoaning the American-esque 'wit' with which the it is written!)

The second article is about a new piece of technology presented at BEA, aptly named the Espresso. Basically this is a huge machine with a high-speed printer attached at one end, a high-speed color printer at the other, and what it does is print and bind books from electronic files in approximately four minutes a piece. At the end, the book slides out of a little chute at the bottom. This machine is part of a new movement called printing on-demand, which has some promising implications for how the publishing industry responds to supply and demand, and also product availability for the consumer. How many times have you been looking for a particular title or author that wasn't necessarily mainstream enough to make it into the local Barnes and Noble? This machine could easily put an end to all that, although I'm not sure what will happen to the venerable old pastime of browsing, which for me is a pretty important part of the book-buying experience. Anyway, the thing costs about $75,000 and most bookstores are too pinched by the recession to invest in that kind of technology at this point, particularly since there are some kinks that still need to be worked out anyway. Try paper jamming? Read more here.

It seems to me that a lot of the technology surfacing in those industries surrounding books has both promise and risk. True, there are a lot of subtle features of reading that are being threatened. A common analogy is the decline in Album art ever since iTunes basically swept away the CD. But I personally think a lot of those issues are ones that can be resolved as future generations of the products develop, and also by how the markets choose structure themselves. I mean, why can't eBooks make themselves available in different types? And why shouldn't Amazon offer discounts for books that have already been purchased in eBook form, and vice versa? Over all, I think the future for these technologies is promising, and could mean a great reduction in the stress placed by literature on the environment.