My Short Story, ‘Together,’ Published in the Anthology, ‘Piece By Piece’

I have a short story called ‘Together’ that has been published in this anthology, Piece by Piece: An Anti-Valentine’s Day Collection, Short Stories, Poetry, and Prose, from Dark Moon Rising Publications. It’s available on Kindle ($419) and Paperback ($15.99) on Amazon. It will soon be available on Godless and the Wide Link.

My story is about a young woman with a drug habit who is, on and off, being possessed by the ghost of someone who has recently killed himself, over her having broken his heart. Or is she? Is she just hallucinating, and is she the one whose heart has been broken from having been abandoned so many times in her life, driving her to drug abuse and madness?

Other great writers with poetry and prose in this anthology include C.S Anderson, Devin Anderson, Alison Armstrong, Pixie Bruner, Sonya Kay Bruns, Jacqueline Chou, Michael J. Ciaraldi, J. Rocky Colavito, Dawn Colclasure, Linda M. Crate, Tony Daly, Quinn Rowan Dex, Ursula Dirks, H.L. Dowless, Julie Dron, A.M. Forney, Michael Fowler, Lindsey Goddard, Megan Guilliams, Kasey Hill, Bryce Jenkins, Emily Jones, Toshiya Kamei, Katherine Kerestman, Joseph Lewis, LindaAnn LoSchiavo, J.C. Maçek III, Brianna Malotke, Xtina Marie. Shane Morin, Jason Morton, Sergio Palumbo, Pip Pinkerton, Rick Powell, John Reti, Kevin Robles, Bissme S, Cassandra O’Sullivan Sachar. Matt Scott, ReNait Suka, Robert Sullivan, Michael Errol Swaim, Rob Tannahill, Malachi Edwin Vethamani, Jacek Wilkos. amd Amanda Worthington

Please come check out this collection of great writing. You’ll love it! 🙂

The Tanah–Beginnings, Chapter Three

[The following is the fourth of many posts–here is the first, here is the second, and here is the third–about a fictitious discovery of ancient manuscripts of a religious text of narratives and magic spells. Its purpose for my readers and me is to provide a cosmology and mythography on which I am basing much, if not most, of my fiction–short stories and novels. If anyone is interested in reading this fiction, he or she can use these blog posts as references to explain the nature of the magic and universe in my fiction.]

At the dawn of civilization, there was a lonely island in a sea in the middle of the Earth. It was a most agreeable green hill surrounded by peaceful blue. All was well there: there was no war, troubles were few and simple, and everyone was happy. There was plentiful fruit on the boughs of the trees, delicious fish to be caught in the nets of the fishermen, and the survival of their society depended on one thing–constant procreation.

For this reason, the king of the island of Gymnos (for this was the name of the island) encouraged, and virtually commanded, his people to copulate every night. The climate was hot in the daytime, so everyone went naked everywhere with no shame. Though food was abundant, it rarely made people fat, so the young and fertile were delectable to look upon. Thus, desirable lovers were easily found by nightfall.

All were married, but absolute fidelity was not necessary. Mothers owned the children the fathers sired. A mother’s sons protected her family and their property, which she passed to her daughters when they came of age. Thus women’s responsibilities as mothers and homemakers were central to this society, and men’s responsibilities as protectors, procreators, hunters, and fishermen were of lesser importance.

King Agnos (for this was his name) obeyed his own command to procreate always, and he had a harem with thirty concubines for this purpose. His wife, Queen Vita, permitted him to have them, since she, as first mother of all living on the island, owned her sons and daughters, some of whom were not the king’s. He did not know which were his offspring by his queen, and which were not, but he did not care, for he believed that ignorance is freedom and knowledge bondage.

The people lived on this island as though there was no world anywhere outside of it. One day, however, a young, handsome prince from another land came by boat to the island. It was early in the morning when he arrived, the sun just beginning to rise, and most of the people had only slept for an hour or two after a typical night of orgies.

The prince and his men, fully clothed, were shocked to see the entire population of the island, naked and insouciantly greeting him. When they learned that promiscuity was the norm here, the prince and his crew concluded that the island’s people were savages. The prince felt that it was his duty to civilize the natives.

He soon met the drowsy king and queen; while he averted his eyes from the king’s nakedness, he was captivated by the queen’s loveliness. She returned his passion to him with her fiery eyes. None of this exchange of feelings was known to the king, nor did it concern him.

Normally the people would not rise from their beds until noontime, so most of them were permitted to go back to sleep while the prince discussed urgent matters with the king. Foreign navies were coming in the direction of this island, and would doubtless invade it and claim it as part of their empire. The king, overconfidently remembering the many years of uninterrupted peace the island had enjoyed, ignored the prince’s warning. The prince again tried to advise the king, saying that if his people followed the ways of the prince and the foreign navies (from the prince’s country, Gnosius, on the mainland not too far away), clothed and monogamous, an invasion could be averted. King Agnos scoffed at this admonition, left the prince, and returned to bed with his concubines.

Now the prince was alone with Queen Vita, who invited him to her bed. Prince Patros (for this was his name) happily accepted. They made love that night with an ecstasy that Queen Vita had not enjoyed with King Agnos for years. Until that night, the queen would never have even considered ending her allegiance to her husband; now she was in love with Prince Patros, and she was ready to help him kill King Agnos.

Furthermore, though she was flattered by the prince’s appraisals of her body, she became ashamed of her nakedness, and commanded her ladies-in-waiting to make gowns for her. They stitched beautiful gowns with patterns of silver and gold on them, made from the material of tapestries, and she left her bedroom with the prince the next morning, clothed. She commanded all the servants to make clothes for themselves, and generously gave them drapes and tapestries of her own for their fabrics.

Meanwhile, King Agnos stayed in bed with his concubines that day, feeling particularly overcome with lust. For the past several days, the king had been getting weary of mere procreation, and he started exploring particularly lewd avenues to satisfy his desires. These avenues included entering the top as well as the bottom, and entering the behind as well as the front. Sometimes he tasted instead of entering, and his concubines tasted him, too. They never complained of his excesses: they loved their king so much that they were content, even eager, to please him.

In the afternoon, as they indulged in this way, Queen Vita quietly entered her husband’s bedroom to see what he ws doing. They did not know she was there, but she was shocked to see his lewdness, and she quickly left in horror and disgust.

As the king continued in his idleness and lust, Prince Patros and Queen Vita commanded all the people of Gymnos to clothe themselves by cutting off the pelts of the animals they hunted. Admiring the beautiful attire of the prince, queen, and royal servants, and ashamed of their own nakedness, the people all over the island did as they were commanded, so by nightfall everyone except King Agnos and his concubines were clothed.

The people also attended a wedding ceremony between the prince and queen, making Patros the new king of the island, which was now renamed Vestis. This public ceremony was a declaration that Agnos was unfit to rule the island. The navies of King Patros’s nation, Gnosius, sailed by and saw a clothed, civilized people ruled by one of their own. Therefore they desisted from invading, knowing that the island had been claimed for their empire peacefully.

Now the only thing that remained to be done was the disposal of the old king, who still knew nothing of his usurpation; he still preferred to know only his concubines’ sweet flesh. That night, his lust finally sated, Agnos left his bedroom and went into his garden. When his concubines went out of his bedroom, they were immediately seized by King Patros’s guards and taken to their new home, which would now be a public brothel. There they remained in shameful nakedness, never permitted to wear clothes, and always only to satisfy the lewd desires of strangers till the end of their days.

King Patros walked in the cool of the garden that night, looking for the naked old man, who still knew nothing of what had happened. Finally, the new king found him, and unsheathed his dagger. He lunged at Agnos’s groin and emasculated him. His genitals were thrown on a farmer’s field: in those days, it was believed that this would promote fertility. Agnos was left to bleed to death slowly, neither a king nor a man, still completely ignorant of the revolution that had occurred. He died alone, knowing only that he would never know his concubines, or anyone, again.

His former concubines tearfully mourned his murder when they learned of it, knowing that this was worse than suffering their lot of having to know, and be known by, any goat of a man who entered the whorehouse. The queen seemed to mourn his death, too, remembering the noble man he once was before he allowed his animal concupiscence to debase him so. Still, her grief was easily obscured by the joy of having a new, stronger lord.

The next morning was the dawn of a new day and a new age. The people learned the art of making clothes, which led to the creation of shops. These shops, and others selling many different goods, led to the Vestis people’s learning of commerce. Their once simple island life grew into a complex civilization, with a bigger contrast of rich and poor than ever before. Though this led to more crime than during Agnos’s rule, it was seen as more than compensated for by the pride one had in living in a cultivated society. The arts and sciences became more sophisticated, and men had intellectual pursuits, instead of spending their days in idleness and their nights in lecherous abandon.

One morning, Queen Vita learned from her doctor that she was pregnant. King Patros said, “This is my child: may he be a son.” Though her sons and daughters from before were allowed by their step-father to continue living in regal comfort, they were of inferior status to the new baby that was coming. The queen and her sons and daughters were irked by this vicissitude, but the king’s power was too great to be resisted.

The queen was especially discontented that her new baby was more the property of her lord than her own, but she enjoyed her regal luxury too much to risk losing it from shrewishness, which Patros would never abide. Indeed, the king had their home transformed into a huge palace, whose beauty awed the queen as much as it did the common people. It was designed in the Gnosian architectural style, towering and rising almost up to heaven, it seemed.

In accord with the king’s declaration of ownership of his new child, which was a son, he decreed that all sons and daughters were now owned by their fathers, property would be passed from father to son, and marriages would be monogamous to ensure paternity. Girls had to endure virginity until marriage and be faithful to their husbands until death.

Any man who wished to enjoy more women would have to marry more than one bride if he could support them, or seek the naked women in the brothel. Any girls or wives found guilty of lewdness or infidelity to their husbands were stripped naked and put in the brothel. This was said to preserve social order.

Men thus ascended in social and political importance. No longer did they merely use their bodies to hunt, fish, or procreate for their families: now they used their minds. Men became doctors, lawyers, senators, and warriors, trained in the Gnosian fashion. Women’s importance as mothers was now secondary in the new social order. Sometimes women felt disenfranchised and scorned: it seemed as though they had been unfairly blamed for the debauching of Agnos. Most women, however, agreed with the men that these were small sacrifices for the sake of their now more advanced, literate, and cultured society.

Since society was now monogamous, there were no more orgies at night, so everyone went to bed at sundown, and rose at daybreak.

Commentary

As has been said a number of times already in previous chapters, anyone who hopes to find history in this tale will be bitterly disappointed. It is a myth that expresses truths in allegory and metaphor.

The earliest forms of social organization were simple: men hunted and women gathered. Man was in complete harmony with nature, and all one saw around oneself was the green of plants and the blue of seas and skies.

Societies tended to be matrilineal at first, so there was little need to be sure of paternity. For this reason, the mother was the primary parent, and religion focused on her.

The early stages of society can be compared to the first years of life. Simple lifestyles lead to simple, blunt, open expression of feelings, that is, being naked and unashamed in speech, as it were. When morality becomes more advanced, we hide our faults in the clothing of hypocrisy. Early in life, we freely pursue pleasure; later, we seek it out in more circuitous paths. Ignorance is bliss.

When we are alone or among those we know well, we freely express ourselves; when strangers come into our lives, we learn the hypocrisy of good manners, the mask of politeness. When young and naïve, we are, as it were, drowsy and less aware; as we age, we grow more alert.

As children, we often ignore danger, not yet knowing its pain; when we’re older, we learn its sting, and protect ourselves.

Contraries tend to be mysteriously close from the point of view of the dialectical unity of opposites, as can be symbolized by the ouroboros. The lewdness of orgiastic copulation leads to the begetting of life as one extreme, one opposite. The treasonous horror of regicide–killing the man who was to protect us all from slaughter–shows the ending of life at the other extreme, the other opposite.

These two polar opposites, birth and death, juxtaposed as they are in many famous myths in history, symbolically illustrate the truth of the proximity of all opposites. Marriages and funerals, one quickly after the other, as in this story, can also represent these neighbouring yet opposing extremes; comedies end with marriages, and tragedies end with funerals.

Another thing we see in this story is the evil of imperialism, and of settler-colonialism on aboriginal land. The people of Gymnos, projecting their goodness onto Patros and the crew on his ship, naïvely welcome the clothed visitors to their island instead of suspecting the possibility of them having bad intentions. Such naïve openness is what the natives’ nudity symbolizes.

Patros’s speaking of good intentions, of protecting the natives from a foreign invasion, all the while secretly plotting a takeover themselves, is symbolized by the foreigners’ being clothed, a hiding of their true intentions. Part of this takeover is the replacing of a matrilineal society with a patrilineal one. Patros’s name seems to be derived from the Latin pater. The renaming of the island as ‘Vestis’ seems linguistically linked with the Latin vestire, ‘to clothe.’ These two etymologies lead to another point.

Much in this story seems to be influenced by mythic and linguistic elements from ancient Middle Eastern civilization. ‘Gymnos’ seems derived from the Greek word for ‘naked,’ ‘Agnos’ seems derived from Greek roots meaning ‘not knowing,’ and ‘Gnosius’ seems derived from the Greek gnosis, ‘knowledge.’ Queen Vita’s name seems derived from the Latin for ‘life.’ These references to nakedness, unknowing, and the queen as ‘the mother of all living’ all suggest a link to the Adam and Eve story.

The following fragment is a poem that expresses the narrative and themes just discussed in the paragraphs above. As with the poem presented in the previous chapter, this one is a remarkable early example of concrete poetry, whose alternating phallic and ’emasculated’ verses visually symbolize the cyclical crests and troughs of dialectical movement.

An island, isolated from the world,

would
see
each
morning
sun
rise
in the
sky
and welcome each new day that was unfurled.

The people living there, though, stayed abed,

for
late
at
night
one
touched
one’s
lover’s
thigh
and didn’t rise at dawn, thus seeming dead.

Their idle king encouraged indolence

and
carefree
lust,
for
this
would
cause
the
birth
of many children. In their innocence

the people saw no shame in going nude

in
search
of
lovers.
Their
king
saw
no
worth
in learning, had no sense of what is lewd.

In marriages, the mothers owned the young

and
fathers
did
not
know
whose
babes
were
theirs
nor by the shame of cuckolds were they stung.

Thus, woman was the more important sex,

and
men
lived
lives
of
lesser,
trivial
cares,
in idleness, sometimes on hunting treks.

A harem, home to thirty concubines,

was
for
the
king
and
his
luxuriant
pleasure.
He cared not how the day’s so bright sun shines,

because at night to be inside for him

was
of
more
worth
than
light,
or
any
treasure.
His girls would gratify him, lights kept dim.

This sleepy people knew no other lands

until
one
morn
a boat
approached
their
shore.
A foreign prince had come upon the sands

of their so lonely beach to learn of them.

Such
shameless
lewdness
he’d
not
seen
before;
he would discover from whom it did stem.

He was enchanted by the lovely queen;

for
the
same
reason,
he
despised
the
king,
for they, nude, were content thus to be seen.

The queen, equally charmed by this young man

with
his
spear
and
strange
armour,
did
him
bring
into her bedchamber. There he began

his entry of her body and her heart.

The
king
knew
not
how
this
young
prince
imposed
himself on their realm with his subtle art

of sweet, seductive words to win his wife,

nor
did
he
care.
The
king
never
supposed
that he would be usurped and lose his life,

Abandoned and castrated, left to bleed.

Rising
in
power,
the
prince
was
the
new
king,
giving his rule only to his male seed.

The old king’s concubines, now prostitutes,

could
only
mourn
his
loss,
and
feel
the
sting
of phallic thrusts from men who were mere brutes.

The queen now also lacked much regal power,

but
was
content
to
have
a
golden
palace
for her new home, a most majestic tower.

And though women were stripped of every right,

a
wise
society,
led
by
the
phallus,
seemed better; cultured, learned–of morning light.

The Tanah–Beginnings, Chapter Two

[The following is the third of many posts–here is the first, and here is the second–about a fictitious discovery of ancient manuscripts of a religious text of narratives and magic spells. Its purpose for my readers and me is to provide a cosmology and mythography on which I am basing much, if not most, of my fiction–short stories and novels. If anyone is interested in reading this fiction, he or she can use these blog posts as references to explain the nature of the magic and universe in my fiction.]

  1. The worlds breathe out through their pores in all directions. The air inside is fiery hot; as it flows outwards, it slowly cools. When the breath reaches its farthest and coldest, it is inhaled, and it gradually heats again.
  2. The contents of the exhalations are fiery orbs that turn with imperceptible slowness, the heat tempering eventually. They are red, glowing balls, titanic in size to man, yet infinitesimal to the vastness of space. One of them has cooled, turning from red to blue.
  3. All of this, from breaths to orbs to our blue sphere, is in and of an endless sea of nothingness, where nothing and everything meet. Every drop of the eternal sea is an atom, and the waves undulate forever.
  4. The seas of our blue orb receded to give green to us. Creatures, great and small, extinct and extant, have inhabited both blue and green. Simple life progressed to compound forms, some that swim and others that crawl.
  5. Some skin has scales, and other skin has hair. Some limbs are legs, others, wings. Some made arms of their front legs, and straightened their backs. Their brains rose with their backs.
  6. The animals had two sexes, as did the final one: humanity.
  7. The male begets life in its first stage, then the female houses and nurtures that life in its growing stages in the womb. At the beginning, one didn’t know of the father’s role in giving life, but honoured only the mother in this; only later was the father acknowledged in this. Still, the mother is always seen as the seat of life.
  8. Man sees all things in pairs of opposites, therefore if woman is life, then man is death. Since man loves and honors life, he loves and honors woman, even facing death to preserve her life, and the lives she bears.
  9. Just as every body is ruled by a brain, and every family is ruled by parents, so has society been ruled by kings and queens from the beginning. Just as old inhalations and exhalations are replaced by new ones, and when old rotations of the orbs end, to be replaced by the beginnings of new rotations, so must old rule be replaced the the rule of the young. This is why new ideas replace old ones, and daughters leave their mothers and fathers to start their own families, and young kings replace old ones.
  10. Since woman is life, and man loves and honours woman, old queens may extend their rule while they replace their old husbands with young ones. Since woman is life and man is death, old kings are killed by young ones. This has been an ongoing, unending tragedy from the beginning, always remembered and dramatized.
  11. It would happen thus: a triumphant procession ushers in the king, who is accompanied by his queen. Among the crowd of admirers is the queen’s young paramour, who waits for a moment to be alone with her.
  12. The moment arrives, and he lies with her. Later, he walks in the garden in the evening, waiting to find the king alone. Soon he is alone with the king, and he kills him. The queen seems to mourn the dead king with an excess of tears, but she soon marries the young man, and he is the new king. Death follows copulation quickly, and more copulation ensues soon after.
  13. Thus life quickly begins, ends and begins again, as each orb’s cycles of rotation slowly do, and as the worlds’ breaths–in and out–do even slower. These are the rhythms of everything.

Commentary

While much of the cosmology of the manuscripts collectively known as The Tanah describes a flat Earth in a geocentric universe, every now and then one finds writings that seem to have an uncanny ability to anticipate, however vaguely, scientific ideas and theories millennia in advance of the time when these manuscripts are dated. These verses are an example of such an anticipation.

That said, though, those looking for scientific accuracy in this vague and poetic ‘retelling,’ as it would seem, of the Big Bang Theory (as a cyclical, endless series of big bangs and big crunches, in the context of a multiverse) and of evolutionary theory will be frustrated. These writings are far from being science; they’re meant to be understood as religious revelation. More accurately, though, they are part of a speculative system, a philosophical one, told in metaphors.

What should be focused on, instead of whether or not the ideas constitute an anticipation of modern science, is the reality of cycles in everything: breathing in and out, orbs turning on their axes, heat cooling and cold getting hot again (recall Nevil and Drofurb, Hador and Calt, as discussed in Chapter One). These cycles help us understand the true dialectical relationship between each pair of opposites.

We think in dualist opposites all the time, because it is so difficult to think in terms of a series of gradations from one opposite to another. Still, all is relative. One must not lose sight of how something seen one way can seem its opposite from another perspective, like the size of a planet to us as opposed to its size compared to the universe. All of our opposites, red heat and cold blue, everything and nothing, the blue sea and the green land, great and small, living and dead, male and female, must be known in this broader way.

We see evolution in animals, usually as progress upward: it is better to fly than to crawl, it is better to walk upright than to go on all fours. Reason seems superior to instinct. Is this necessarily so? Reason tends to be a weapon more than a comfort. Though things do advance, an apex is reached and the advancement must stop. If one dares climb higher than this, one falls to the bottom. Hence new rulers replace old ones.

In the sexes we see what seem to be two mere opposites; yet it is easy to see in many males considerable effeminacy, and in many females strikingly masculine attributes. Thus, between the black feminine and the white masculine edges, we see a vast grey area of grey humanity. The nuances of the original language of the manuscripts reflect this, though it’s virtually impossible to reflect this in English translation, hence my mention of this ‘grey area’ here. Furthermore, note the patrilineal assumptions of a daughter leaving her parents when marrying, yet also the matrilineal assumptions of a queen replacing her older, dead husband with a new king.

Indeed, a recurring nightmare throughout history, especially in ancient times, was that of regicide. When societies were commonly organized in a matrilineal fashion, a queen could replace her aged lord with a young one, as a tanist. This was when human sacrifice was customary. This butchery was as abominated then as now, but it was deemed equally necessary. The abhorrent practice abated over time, but the stories relating this horror stubbornly continued to be told. These terrible tales were recounted as myths and legends, in the garb of allegory and metaphor, not as history; hence the details were distorted.

Many of the greatest stories ever told are garbled versions of one of those ancient acts of ceremonial murder. The deaths of Osiris, Dionysus, Orpheus, Adonis, Tammuz, and even Christ bear an eerie similarity to those primordial regicides. These legends are like a bell ringing the peal of this unconscious memory.

Two of the greatest dramas ever written, Oedipus Rex and Hamlet, are about regicide. We love any great work of art through the centuries because it arouses our sympathy in a powerful way, unlike any other creative opus. Such masterpieces were these Sophocles and Shakespeare tragedies. The tanist, kinsman to the king, kills him and takes his place: thus did Oedipus kill his father, King Laius (however unwittingly), and thus did Claudius murder his brother, old King Hamlet. Two things are observed in these regicides–their necessity and their horror; Sophocles stressed the former and Shakespeare stressed the latter. Oedipus’s fate was preordained by the gods; it was ineluctable, though the family tried to circumvent it. Young Hamlet abominated his uncle for committing the crime, and was paralyzed with inaction because he would have to commit the same crime to avenge his father, so great was the prince’s horror in contemplating the bloody deed.

Along with the extreme horror of the killing of the king is, on the other side, extreme lewdness. Here we see extreme birth (resulting from orgiastic sexual unions) happening with extreme death (regicide). Sex and murder are juxtaposed as two extremes meeting each other. The extreme sexual aspect of this is seen in the lewdness of Oedipus committing incest with his mother, Iocaste (however unwittingly), and the birth of his sons/brothers and daughter/sister, Antigone. In Hamlet, the lewdness is in Claudius’s incestuous seduction of Hamlet’s mother, Gertrude, and their marriage “within a month” of the murder of old King Hamlet.

Necessity, horror, and cycles of birth, life, death, and rebirth. These are the eternal rhythms of the world.

The following fragment is a poem that expresses the same basic content as the opening verses just commented on. We have made an attempt to recreate the verse form: expanding and contracting orbs as represented in each word, as it is in the original language–a dazzling anticipation of concrete poetry! Unfortunately, rendering the verses in this fashion in English inevitably looks clumsy here. We beg the readers’ indulgence in our admittedly faulty presentation of the verses.

Hot,……………………………..burning………………………fire


blasted,……………………………………broke,……………………………..blew
compact………..matter,……………tightly……..compressed…………….into……..numberless
fragments………………………………….The………………………………pieces

flew……………………………outwards,…………………….expanding

in………………every………..direction…………They………cooled………as

they……………………………split…………………………….apart.

They……………………………….will………………………..return
to………….their…………….centres,…………….and……….heat…………up
while…………………………..closing……………………….together.

Red,…………..flaming……………sparks

are…………………………..these………………………fragments
of………..hot,………compact…….matter,…………These………balls
slowly…………………………turn,…………………………..seem

gigantic……………………..to…………………………….man,

who…………………sits…………on……………..an…………..orb…………cooler

and……………………….blue;…………………………yet

compared……………………….to………………………..wide,
infinite………..space,………….they……………are…………..no……………more
than…………………………….glistening…………………..molecules.

Small,…………………..empty,……………………infinite

nothingness………………..endlessly………………..grows
and…………expands………from…………our………..ball………of
blue…………………………..to…………………………..the

vast……………………………reaches……………………………of

everything…………………….This…….is………………….where…….all…………………..that

is……………………………..great…………………………….and

eternal…………………………meets………………………..everything
small,……………in…………………….a………..sea………………of……………naught–
nothing,…………………………….the………………………………void.

Home,………………………….blue…………………….Earth,

covered………………………………..in…………………………………..sea–
like…………………….the…………..ocean…………..where……………..nothing…………….and
everything……………………….meet,……………………………….our

vast…………………………………universe–…………………………….is

a………………………………..huge,………………….watery…………….ball……………….The

deep……………………………….seas……………………………….of

our……………………………….world…………………………….would
recede…………..and…………..give………………..green…………….to…………..this
small,…………………………..infant…………………………..planet.

Small,………………………..simple…………………animals

first………………………lived………………………here.
Life………..would…………evolve:………it………..would………..grow
into…………………..complex……………….forms.

Titanic………………………..lizards………………………….and

mammals…………..would………dominate………….air,……sea,…………….and

land……………………………..Then…………………………they’d

die,……………………………………or……………………………would
slowly…………….transform…………….into……………..birds……………or…………..today’s
smaller,………………………..humbler……………………..beasts.

Small,………………….simple……………………simians

straightened……………………………their………………………………backs,
and……………………..their………………..thinking………..grew…………..clever……………Front
feet………………………………..became…………………………….hands.

Men……………………………………..made………………………..societies,

civilizations………………..of……………….lasting………….grandeur…………………….His

achievements…………………………were………………………..glorious.

Hubris…………………………resulted………………………….in
decadence,………..and…………….the………….sad…………….gradual…………..demise
of………………………………..great………………………………..cultures.

Man,……………………………….woman,…………………child:

man…………………………….begets………………………………….life,
then………….woman……………gives………….shelter……………….to………..it
and………………………………….it…………………………………..grows

in…………………………………..her……………………………….womb.

We……………………..exalt…………..her……………..as………………giver……………….of

life:…………………………mother…………………………..goddess!

The…………………………………male………………………………..role
in……………….giving…………………life……………..not………………yet…………..known,
man……………………………….thus……………………………..retreats.

Woman……………………………is……………………………life,

Man…………………………………..is……………………death.
He………..loves…………..life,……………thus……….his………..heart
swells………………………..with……………………….love

for………………………….his………………………..lady

so………………….grand…………….He’ll……………protect……………..her,

preserve………………………her,……………………..and

honour…………………………….her………………………….till
he…………..retreats………..from…………life,……….crawling………..his
way……………………..toward………………………..death.

Minds……………………control………………….bodies,

fathers……………………..and………………..mothers
have………..sway………..over……….all…………….of…………….their
daughters………………………and…………………….sons,

thus………………………….societies’…………………governments

are……………………..in…………….the……………..thrall…………of………….their

kings………………………….and………………………queens.

New………………………….rule………………………replaces
the…………old,…………….for…………old………….kings…………….must
retreat……………………towards…………………….death.

New…………………………breaths……………………..blow

out,………………………………..all……………………………..the
orbs……………start…………..new………..cycles,…………..the…………….new
takes…………………………..the………………………place

of………………………………the……………………..old,

and…………………the………..rule………………of……..young………………kings

must……………………….commence……………..when

old………………………………….men,…………………………………old
rotations,……………and…………..breaths……………..can…………….no………………longer
continue…………………………………their…………………………….lives.

Woman…………………………….is……………………………life,

man……………………………….is…………………………death,
so…………the…………..rule………..of………….a………..queen
may…………………………go……………………….on

and…………………………….her…………………….glory,

like………………….that……………….of……………all…………goddesses,…………thus

is…………………………..extended…………………forever;

her………………………..husband,………………….however,
must………..die…………..like………….all…………..plants………………in
the……………………..autumn……………………….cold.

King,………………………..queen,…………………..youth:

enter……………………………the……………………………king,
and……….a………..handsome……….young…………man…………eyes
his…………………….beautiful………………………..queen.

He……………………………seduces………………………her,

and…………….she………….makes……………love…………….with……………..her

dashing,………………………….strong…………………paramour.

Cuckolded,…………………….castrated,………………….killed,
the…………..old……………….king………………..is………..lamented……………..by
whom?……………………..these………………………………..are

life’s…………………………..rhythms,…………………….always.

Analysis of ‘The Old Man and the Sea’

The Old Man and the Sea is a 1952 novella by Ernest Hemingway. He wrote it between December 1950 and February 1951, but published it in September 1952. It was the last major fictional work he published in his lifetime.

The novella was highly anticipated and released to record sales. Initial critical reception was highly positive, though its reputation has been more varied and somewhat less enthusiastic since, with a number of critics deeming it inferior to Hemingway’s earlier works.

Nonetheless, TOMATS has continued to be popular, as a book in English lessons around the world, according to Jeffrey Meyers‘s Hemingway: A Biography–1985). The Big Read, a 2003 BBC survey of the UK’s 200 “best-loved novels,” ranked TOMATS at #173.

Hemingway was directly involved in the 1958 film adaptation of the novella, with Spencer Tracy as Santiago, but Hemingway ended up disliking the film. He won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1953 for TOMATS, the first time he’d ever received the award. Even Fulgencio Batista, the new dictator of Cuba (the setting for the novella), gave Hemingway a Medal of Honor for the novella; though Hemingway disapproved of the new regime, he did accept the medal.

TOMATS got its highest recognition in 1954, when it won Hemingway the Nobel Prize in Literature. The Swedish Academy praised the novella for its “powerful, style-making mastery of the art of modern narration.”

Here are some quotes from the novella.

John Killinger in the 1960s connected TOMATS with Albert Camus, Jean-Paul Sartre, and Friedrich Nietzsche, that is, with philosophical existentialism and absurdism. I find such connections to be apt, given these philosophies’ focus on the meaninglessness of life in a world without God, and the absurdity of trying so hard to achieve something, only to fail, then to realize that one must nonetheless keep trying, in spite of one’s efforts’ futility.

We see this absurdism in Santiago’s painstaking efforts to catch the huge marlin, only to have it eaten down to the bone by sharks. Still, after this great disappointment, which in turn has come after an 84-day losing streak of never catching any fish, he as a fisherman must keep trying to catch fish in the future. Santiago thus is like Sisyphus, doomed to roll a boulder up a hill, only to have it roll back down and have to roll it up again, over and over, throughout eternity.

Another way to look at TOMATS is to do a comparison and contrast of the novella with such literary works as Moby-Dick and Life of Pi (which I will get into later on). Santiago thus corresponds with Captain Ahab, though their personalities are practically diametrical opposites: the former, a humble Cuban fisherman, is linked to St. James the Apostle, whose Spanish name is Santiago; mad, monomaniacal Ahab the whaler, on the other hand, is linked by name to the wicked King of Israel who introduced the worship of Baal to the ancient Hebrews and caused his kingdom to lapse into decadence.

In this analogy, the giant marlin corresponds, of course, to the white whale, though again the two are opposites in crucial ways. Santiago kills the marlin, as opposed to Captain Ahab being killed by Moby Dick. Santiago lashes the killed marlin to his skiff, whereas Captain Ahab is tangled in the line of the harpoon he’s thrown at the whale, tying him to the whale and being taken out to sea with it, dying as it swims away.

So in these ways, TOMATS is Moby-Dick in miniature and the anti-Moby-Dick, if you will, the two books being a kind of Hegelian dialectic of each other.

TOMATS is a miniature Moby-Dick not just in terms of literal size, that of the books and that of the marine animals…or of the boats and bodies of water in which the two stories are set, for that matter. Moby-Dick has a grand theme about seeking out the truth, symbolized by the white whale, while putting oneself in danger of self-destruction if one carries this quest too far, as Ahab does (see my blog post, link above, for details). TOMATS has a theme of searching for meaning and purpose, as symbolized by the marlin, yet failing to get that meaning (all Santiago has to show for his catch is the marlin’s skeleton, lashed to his skiff).

Santiago’s wounded pride is also a miniature of Ahab’s. The whale’s having bitten off Ahab’s leg, a symbolic castration, is a narcissistic injury infuriating the captain so much that he’s obsessed with finding the whale, sailing all over the world with his crew in the Pequod to find it and get his…revenge…on an animal?

Santiago, on the other hand, is merely saddened by his bad luck streak of eighty-four days of not catching any fish, gaining the bad reputation in his Cuban fisherman’s community as salao (very unlucky). He doesn’t sail out to the ends of the earth, as Ahab does, in the hopes of catching something to restore his sinking reputation. He merely sails further out into the Gulf Stream. In fact, after encountering the many difficulties he’s had in catching the marlin and having sharks bite off chunks of it, he regrets his having gone out so far; Ahab, even in dying, never regrets his lust for revenge.

As for the “anti-Moby-Dick” aspects of TOMATS, recall Ahab’s undying hate of the whale, as contrasted with Santiago’s love of the marlin, calling it his “brother” and feeling appreciation, respect, and compassion for it. Since Santiago (Spanish for St. James, recall, who was originally a fisherman himself, incidentally) can also be linked with Jesus, with the cuts and injuries Santiago gets in his struggles to reel in the marlin being compared by some critics to Christ’s wounds during His Passion and crucifixion, then his love of the marlin can also be linked with Christ’s words on the Cross about those who put Him up there: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34)

Another example of how TOMATS is Moby-Dick in miniature is in how the latter uses grandiose diction, whereas the former uses simple diction and shorter sentences. Instead of there being complex symbolism coupled with a deep analysis of that symbolism, as happens in Moby-Dick with its “Etymology,” “Cetology,” and “The Whiteness of the Whale,” in TOMATS we have a simpler symbolism with no breaks from the narrative that go off into tangents. Whereas Moby-Dick is a deluge of allusions and references to all kinds of literature, there’s very little of that in TOMATS.

Manolin, the boy who helps Santiago and would do anything for him, sympathizing with him to the point of weeping for him at the end when he sees the old man’s disappointment with the skeletal remains of the marlin lashed to the skiff, is again in stark contrast to Starbuck, who says all he can to discourage Ahab from going through with his self-destructive lust for…revenge?…against the white whale. In these characters’ opposing natures, we again can see how TOMATS is the anti-Moby-Dick, or rather that Moby-Dick could be renamed The Madman and the Sea.

To go into other aspects of TOMATS, Manolin and Santiago have a conversation, during which the old man says that eighty-five is a lucky number (superstitious nonsense, of course), and he fancies that he’ll bring in a fish “over a thousand pounds”, to which the boy, unlike Starbuck, gives no objections. Then they discuss what the newspaper will say about American baseball.

For a poor fishing community in Cuba, the only interesting baseball teams would be the American ones, like the Yankees, the Detroit Tigers, the Cincinnati Reds, the Chicago White Sox, or the Cleveland Indians. Santiago’s hero is Joe DiMaggio (whose father was a fisherman, as Santiago later notes–page 105). This looking to the US for role models instead of those inside one’s own country is symbolic and reflective of the influence of US imperialism, including its cultural forms.

Though Batista’s US-backed government wasn’t yet in power as of Hemingway’s writing of the novella, the resentment among many Cubans against US imperialism was already keenly felt, and it would have led to the nationalist and anti-imperialist Orthodox Party and Authentic Party leading in the polls in 1952, with Batista’s United Action coalition running a distant third. He had to take power in a coup that year in order to preserve an American political and economic hegemony that many Cubans had already been tiring of.

Hemingway, as a leftist who recognized the huge debt the world owed the Soviet Union for defeating the Nazis, would consciously or unconsciously have added this detail of Cubans worshipping American baseball players as an example of American cultural hegemony over Cuba, the cultural superstructure over the base of social relations that manifests internationally through imperialism. I’ve already mentioned Hemingway’s disapproval of Batista’s regime. Santiago’s painstaking efforts to catch the giant marlin, ultimately ending in failure, also reflects the reality of the doomed attempts of the poor to improve their lot in society, a reality underscored by how living in a Third World country under the boot of US imperialism will ensure that such attempts at improvement are, at best, no more than mere millimetres away from being absolutely impossible.

On pages 29-30, Santiago contemplates whether to think of the sea as feminine (la mar) or masculine (el mar). When the sea is understood to be feminine, she is loved by the fishermen, even when they are mad at her for withholding her bounty. If the sea is seen as masculine, though, then the fishermen regard him as a contestant or as an enemy. These fishermen tend to use buoys as floats for their lines, and they have motorboats–that is, they have the conveniences of modern technology that Santiago lacks. Still, in his humble simplicity and disadvantage, he still has more love for her than they have for him.

Just as I observed in my analysis of Moby-Dick (link above), the sea or ocean is symbolic of the unifying oneness of Brahman, a dialectical monism in which the water’s crests and troughs represent duality within the unity of the ocean as a totality. Sometimes the sea gives, and sometimes it takes away. Like Job, Santiago can accept this reality.

The marine life in TOMATS, like the white whale as I discussed it in that analysis, represent all of the things–as fixed entities that don’t seem to go through the endless flux and change of the sea–that are either desired, objects of attachment like the marlin, or are hated and dreaded, like the sharks that eat up the marlin.

As the Buddhists understand, these things have a way of tricking us into thinking that they have a permanence, when they are no more permanent than the constantly moving sea. The absurdism of Santiago’s trying to catch and keep the marlin is in his futile hope that it will be there with him, intact, all the way back on his trip to the shore.

Remember that while there are opposing tendencies between TOMATS and Moby-Dick, there are also parallels. One example is when Santiago, on having realized that the marlin has taken the bait, expresses his determination to keep struggling, even to the death, until he catches it. ‘”Fish,” he said softly, aloud, “I’ll stay with you until I am dead.”‘ (page 52) This is just like Ahab’s words on having harpooned the whale: “to the last I grapple with thee.” Santiago will harpoon the marlin, too.

Still, with this parallel, there is also the dialectical negation, as I mentioned above, of Santiago’s professed love of the marlin: ‘”Fish,” he said, “I love you and respect you very much.”‘ This is to be contrasted with Ahab’s words: “from hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee.” But in the end there’s a sublation of both Santiago’s and Ahab’s attitude in these words of the former: “But I will kill you dead before this day ends.” (page 54) One harpooner loves his prey, the other hates his prey–both are determined to kill their prey.

The comparisons between the suffering of Santiago and that of Jesus are exemplified with the injuries to the hands of the former, a fisher of the marlin, and the hands of the latter, a fisher of men (Matthew 4:19). Santiago “felt the line carefully with his right hand and noticed his hand was bleeding.” (pages 55-56) The cut on his hand is like one of the stigmata. The absurdism of his suffering is that it’s all in vain, as if Christ hadn’t risen, making Church teaching and faith also in vain (1 Corinthians 15:14).

Moby-Dick isn’t the only book with a narrative of someone at sea and having deep religious, mystical, and philosophical themes that can be compared to those of TOMATS: another such novel is Life of Pi (The Young Man and the Sea, if you will), a book I plan to do an analysis of in about a month or so after this writing is published. One such a comparison is in how alone Santiago feels, so far away from the shore in his skiff (pages 60-61). The sight of ducks flying reminds him, however, that one is never alone at sea.

Pi is in a lifeboat with Richard Parker, a Bengal tiger, and though he insists that his tense relationship with the animal has saved his life by giving it purpose, he’s still starving for human company. Santiago may imagine that the flying ducks are giving him company, and that the marlin is his “brother,” but he’s still alone enough to wish he had Manolin with him. Ahab has a whole crew of harpooners to help him, but in his madness, he’s alienating all of his colleagues and thus making himself all alone at sea.

The point is that in all three stories’ cases, the ocean represents that formless void from which everything comes–Brahman, primordial Chaos, tohu-wa-bohu, Bion‘s O, Lacan‘s Real, or the Jungian collective unconscious and its Shadow, call it what you will. The marine animals swimming about in it–whales, marlins, flying fish, etc.–represent all those things we are attached to, and which cause us pain and suffering when we cannot get them. The quest for them must be undertaken alone, regardless of whether we choose to go on the quest, as Ahab and Santiago do, or if we’re thrown into the quest against our will, as happens to Pi.

The lone man’s confrontation with the briny Absolute is symbolic of Jung’s notion of Individuation. It’s a necessary spiritual quest fraught with danger, including the possibility of losing one’s mind, as almost happened to Jung himself. Santiago suffers terribly, with his stigmata-like cuts and overexertions, and ultimately in vain, like the absurdist Sisyphus rolling up the rock again and again; but he keeps his sanity, thanks to his abiding humility.

On the other hand, Ahab, in his narcissism and bloated self-concept, is doomed not only to death but also to an unquenchable madness in his attempt at this Individuation. Pi’s experience seems similar to Jung’s: he has a humility similar to Santiago’s, but the intense trauma that Pi goes through (the loss of his entire family, the ongoing fear of being killed and eaten by the tiger, no human contact or sight of land for what seems months, near starvation, etc.) brings him dangerously close to madness.

To take my point further, a confrontation with the Absolute, with Brahman, with ‘God’–whichever–is an attempt to reach heaven by unavoidably going through hell first, as I discussed in my analysis of Allen Ginsberg‘s “Howl,” and as Christ‘s Passion and harrowing of hell, properly interpreted, are an allegory of. Attaining divine blessedness isn’t a walk in the park; it shouldn’t and mustn’t be sentimentalized. To overcome suffering and enter nirvana, one must accept and embrace suffering.

Another point of comparison with all three books is how the animal objects of desire, hate, or dread are all male, at least symbolically so, as opposed to the essentially feminine sea–la mer est la mère, or la mar, as Santiago calls her. Moby Dick, a sperm whale, spouts masculinity like an ejaculation. Santiago’s marlin (a pun on man, with the added rli?) has a phallic “sword…as long as a baseball bat and tapered like a rapier” (page 62). Pi’s unlikely marine companion, Richard Parker, has a name to reinforce his masculinity in our minds. These animals, in their…phallic?…solidity, make for a decidedly male contrast to the feminine sea, whose waves flow like a dancing woman’s curves, and whose liquidity is like a mother’s milk, or like a pregnant woman’s amniotic fluid, released when her “water breaks.”

Parallel to this masculine/feminine opposition is that of the fire of desire, hate, or dread versus the calmly moving waves of nirvana’s water. The hard, unbending solidity of desire, hate, or dread is the samsara that the flowing ease of nirvana is antithetical to. There are things we desire, and want to keep; there are things we hate and dread, and thus wish to keep away. Neither the wanted nor the unwanted, however, can be kept or kept away; both must be allowed to flow in and flow out, as the oceanic waves of Brahman do. Still, there are storms at sea, which Santiago dreads in the hurricane months (page 61), the hell one must go through, as Pi does, before reaching heaven.

On page 63, Santiago has discovered that the marlin “is two feet longer than the skiff,” hence his need to lash the fish to the side of the boat after he’s reeled it in and killed it. This will be a tiring task.

When Santiago decides to pray “ten Our Fathers and ten Hail Marys” (pages 64-65), though he admits that he isn’t religious, we come to another point of comparison among TOMATS, Moby-Dick, and Life of Pi: to believe, or not to believe. Santiago is essentially the agnostic–he will “say his prayers mechanically” (page 65), not able to remember all the words and thus saying them fast so they’ll come out automatically. He makes an attempt at faith without making a commitment to it.

In his unswerving wickedness and vanity, Captain Ahab is a kind of anti-theist: his irreligiousness is horrifying to pious Starbuck. As for Pi, though in his maritime ordeal his faith is tested and he thus experiences temporary doubt, he manages to go to hell and back and, finally back on land in North America, he finds his faith restored and even stronger. Ahab’s impiousness, on the other hand, leads to his destruction.

Santiago’s use of prayer as a crutch, in contrast to both Pi and Ahab, results in his raised and ultimately frustrated hopes. Pi is willing to accept atheists for at least being committed to believing that there’s no God (Martel, pages 37-38), and while Pi would assuredly abominate the impiety of Ahab, it is especially the doubters, those committed neither to belief nor unbelief, like Santiago, with whom Pi is irritated. Santiago’s catching and losing of the marlin would seem to be his just desserts for his all-too-half-hearted prayers.

On page 66, Santiago wishes a flying fish will come on board that night, since they are “excellent to eat raw” and he wouldn’t have to cut one up. Within the same thought, he concludes with “Christ, I did not know [the marlin] was so big.” I find it significant that Santiago would speak of a fish and Christ (even if just swearing) in the same breath.

Recall that the fish is a Christian symbol, Ichthys, a Greek acronym for Iēsous Chrīstos Theoû Yἱός Sōtér, or “Jesus Christ, God’s Son, Saviour.” That the fish in question is a flying fish reinforces such symbolic associations as Christ ascending to heaven or walking on water.

The multi-religious Pi is plagued with guilt over his killing of a flying fish (Martel, page 245). He feels “as guilty as Cain.” One might also think of Judas Iscariot’s guilt over betraying another fish, Christ, then killing himself (Acts 11:18).

In Moby-Dick, though Ishmael acknowledges that whales are, of course, mammals, he stubbornly insists on calling them “fish” in the “Cetology” chapter, using Jonah (who was swallowed by “a great fish”, which Ishmael identifies with a whale) as his trustworthy source. For the sake of the symbolic association, I’ll go along with Ishmael’s mischievous scholarship here, and thus relate this killing of fish with Ahab’s bloody lust for revenge.

In these three men’s respective attitudes toward the…fish?…we can see a parallel symbolic attitude toward religion, God, and Christ. In Ahab’s hatred of Moby Dick, we see anti-theist impiety. In Pi’s repentant feelings for the flying fish he’s killed, we see his earnest religiosity. In Santiago’s wish to kill and eat a flying fish, we see not Ahab’s malice, but just a sense of how religion has its uses.

Santiago is so tired from his efforts to reel in the giant, powerful marlin that he wishes he could sleep (page 66). He must save all his strength; this is why he wants to eat a flying fish. He wants to kill the marlin “in all his greatness and his glory”–how like the greatness and glory of God on the Cross, the Christ-like fish.

He wishes both he and the fish could sleep…like being asleep in Christ (1 Corinthians 15, 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14). He would dream of the lions, as he’s done before and will do again, at the end of the story, after his disappointment with the marlin. “Why are the lions the main thing that is left?” he wonders.

Well, as with the fish, the lion is also a symbol of Christ, the lion of Judah (Revelation 5:5). You might also recall Aslan in C.S. Lewis‘s Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, published just two years before TOMATS. Santiago, being of little faith, can only dream of Christian ideas, and can pray only mechanically, not remembering all the words. His determination to catch the marlin is only physical and faithless, hence his absurdist failure.

Examples of injuries that Santiago suffers, those which can be symbolically associated with Christ’s Passion, include a cut the old man gets below his eye (page 52). Such a cut may remind us of the crown of thorns. When he rests against the wood of the bow just after he gets that cut, we’re reminded of Christ resting against the wood of the rood.

Later, on page 66, he advises himself once again to “Rest gently now against the wood and think of nothing.” Just as with dreaming of the Christ-like lions, resting against the Cross-like wood is symbolically a leaning on the crutch of the Church, but, being without thought, it’s a mentally lazy, passive reliance on faith without putting the kind of commitment to that faith that Pi would put into it. Hence, Santiago fails in the end. The mini-tragedy here is in how Santiago suffers like Christ, but that suffering is all in absurdist vain.

A little later on, Santiago switches from one hero (Christ) to another (DiMaggio). On pages 67-68, he thinks of the Big Leagues (Gran Ligas), the New York Yankees and “the Tigres of Detroit.” Just as religion is the opium of the people, so is the hero worship of American pop culture, so fully appropriated by the Cubans that Santiago even mixes a bit of Spanish into the baseball league and its teams. These idols of his have a way of distracting people like him from what they should be focusing on: overcoming imperialist hegemony. Pressing on the wood and not thinking is just a distraction, just as wanting to be “worthy of the great DiMaggio who does all things perfectly” is (page 68).

DiMaggio “does all things perfectly” just as Christ does, for our “Heavenly Father is perfect.” (Matthew 5:48) Would “the great DiMaggio…stay with a fish as long as [Santiago] will stay with this one?” (page 68) Just as people often ask, ‘What would Jesus do?’ in any difficult situation, so does Santiago ask, ‘What would DiMaggio do?’ in this difficulty of catching the marlin. DiMaggio is like Christ, because for Santiago, it’s all about worshipping an idealization rather than fully using one’s own agency.

During his sleep the night before he went out in his skiff on his eighty-fifth ‘lucky’ day, he dreamed of “lions on the beach.” (page 25) He dreams of them again (page 81). In his dream, “he rested his chin on the wood of the bows…” As we can see, the lions and wood are reinforcing the Christian symbolism, and in his passive, dreaming state, this Christianity truly is the opium of the people, a drug to take one’s mind off of one’s suffering.

As he continues struggling with the marlin later on, Santiago says, “God, help me endure. I’ll say a hundred Our Fathers and a hundred Hail Marys. But I cannot say them now.” (page 87) He speaks as though he’d make a deal with God in order to catch the marlin, but faith doesn’t work that way. One doesn’t believe as thanks for getting what one wants, and one’s faith isn’t supposed to be dependent on whether or not one has good fortune. He won’t even pray now. Small wonder he fails in the end.

When, on page 92, Santiago says, “Do you have to kill me too?” in response to the marlin’s making the catch so difficult, and he thinks, “You are killing me, fish…But you have a right to. Never have I seen a greater, or more beautiful, or a calmer or more noble thing than you, brother. Come on and kill me. I do not care who kills who”, we see yet more comparison and contrast with Ahab, who would be killed by the whale, and even willingly, yet Santiago sees the marlin as his brother and doesn’t hate it, as Ahab hates Moby Dick.

Once Santiago has finally caught the marlin, he imagines “the great DiMaggio would be proud of [him] today” (page 97), since the culturally imperialist object of his worship is on a level with that other opium of the people, Christ…though Santiago never gets around to praying those ten Our Fathers and ten Hail Marys.

With the marlin lashed to the side of the skiff, Santiago wonders if he’s bringing it in, or vice versa (page 99). It’s rather like Ahab caught in his harpoon and stuck to the side of the whale as it swims away. Still, Santiago and the marlin are brothers, not mortal enemies, as are Ahab and the white whale.

After killing the first shark to bite at the marlin, Santiago implicitly imagines his use of his harpoon with which to brain the shark to death as being like DiMaggio hitting a ball with a baseball bat (pages 103-104). It makes him feel as if he were identified with his hero, an imitator of him, almost like an imitator of Christ (1 Corinthians 11:1).

Santiago believes it’s a sin not to hope (pages 104-105), just as he who doubts is damned (Romans 14:23). Of course, killing the marlin may have been a sin (page 105); but since everything is a sin in Santiago’s mind, in a Godless world, he feels he shouldn’t think of sin. He can assuage his guilt, however, by reminding himself that DiMaggio’s father was a fisherman. He feels guilt that he killed the marlin out of pride, though, not just because it’s his work, so he can’t stop thinking about sin.

So when two sharks come after the marlin, he must feel as though the eating away of it is his punishment (page 107). Indeed, he is “feeling the nail go through his hands and into the wood”, like Christ on the Cross.

Back on shore and with Manolin, who has been weeping over the disappointing sight of the marlin’s mere skeleton lashed to the side of the skiff, Santiago can at least enjoy the pleasure of having another human being to talk to (page 124), as opposed to his loneliness at sea. The boy wants to fish with the old man again, regardless of how unlucky he is. After all, companionship is more important than success at fishing.

Santiago’s inability to bring the marlin onshore intact is related to his shaky faith in God, but his weak faith is not his fault. In the mundane banality of an absurdist universe–as opposed to the grandiose, pantheist divinity of Pi’s universe on the one extreme, or the melodrama of Ahab’s Satanic drive to self-destruction on the other–there is no God and there is thus no meaning in the world. The absurdity of life, as seen in Sisyphus happily rolling the boulder up the hill again and again, is in making attempts to find meaning where there is none, just like Santiago’s half-assed attempts, if any, to pray to God. We try and fail, then try and fail again, just like praying over and over, with no answer from a God that’s dead.

Yet we keep trying all the same, as Santiago will keep on trying to catch a fish.

Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea, New York, Scribner, 1952

My Short Story, ‘Santa’s Elves,’ is Published in the ‘Last Christmas’ Horror Anthology

I have a horror short story, ‘Santa’s Elves,’ published in Last Christmas: A Holiday Horror Anthology, from Dark Moon Rising Publications, and edited by Rob Tannahill. The book is currently published in paperback on Amazon. It’s just $15.99. ($3.14 on Kindle.) It’s also available on Godless for $2.99.

My story is about Chinese toy factory labourers who have to work extra hard in December to make toys for the children of rich families in the West. They already work long hours almost every day for barely enough pay to live and/or to send to their families, who live far away from them and so they rarely ever see them. A divine presence from the heavens senses their inner cries for help, and when they make their toys this year, something…lethal…will be added to them, to give those Western families quite a surprise.

There are lots of other great authors whose work is featured on these pages. Please check the back cover in the photo given above to see their names (I hope you can get the image big enough to read them all). Here’s a cool promotional video you can watch.

Please go and buy yourself a copy of this collection of cool Christmas horror stories. You’ll love it! Happy holidays! 🙂

The Alien Buddha’s Best of 2024 is Published!

The Alien Buddha’s Best of 2024, which includes Chapter Eight of my novella, The Targeter, is now published on Amazon.

Chapter Eight of my novella is a reverie of the titular character, ‘The Targeter,’ actually named Sid Arthur Gordimer, who is drunk and high on a combination of marijuana, ecstasy, and ketamine. His thoughts drift back and forth in his reverie of being a prince in a mansion watching half-naked strippers dancing to electronic music in a party, then of being in a royal palace with Indian music. 

His parents, the king and queen, are pressuring him into taking on the responsibilities of the crown…but of course, this is all just the reverie of a drunk, stoned man. Outside of Sid’s apartment, in the real world that he’s trying to escape with booze and drugs, a war is going on. Bombs and gunfire can be heard outside. The war has the potential of going nuclear, and he in his despair cannot face it sober.

He knows he’s no saint, and no prince. He’s a goner.

Please check out this collection of the work of so many talented writers (check the list of names on the back cover, if you can enlarge it sufficiently). And please check out my novella. If you like Chapter Eight, you’ll love the rest of it! 🙂

Analysis of ‘Howl’

I: Introduction

“Howl” is a poem by Allen Ginsberg, written in 1954-1955 and dedicated to Carl Solomon, hence it’s also known as “Howl for Carl Solomon.” It was published in Ginsberg’s 1956 collection, Howl and Other Poems.

“Howl” is considered one of the great works of American literature. Ginsberg being one of the writers of the Beat Generation, “Howl” reflects the lifestyle and preoccupations of those writers–Jack Kerouac, William S. Burroughs, Neal Cassady (“N.C., secret hero of these poems”; also, “holy Kerouac […] holy Burroughs holy Cassady”), etc.

The preoccupations of the Beat Generation writers included such subculture practices (as of the conservative 1950s, mind you) as drug use, homosexuality, free love, interest in non-Western religions, etc. Such practices are described with brutal, uncensored frankness in “Howl,” hence the poem was the focus of an obscenity trial in 1957.

Here is a link to the entire poem, and here is an annotated version of it (without the ‘footnote’).

The very title of the poem, one that gives vivid description to so much suffering, must be–on at least an unconscious level–an allusion to the final scene in King Lear, when the grieving king enters, carrying his freshly executed daughter, Cordelia. He calls out “Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones!” As in “Howl,” King Lear demonstrates, as I argued in my analysis of the play, that in the midst of so much suffering and loss, one can also gain something: Lear loses everything, but he also gains self-knowledge. Similarly, “the best minds of [Ginsberg’s] generation” suffered much and engaged in much self-destruction, but they also searched for forms of spiritual enlightenment, as I’ll demonstrate below. By the ‘footnote‘ section of the poem, we’ll find Ginsberg gaining that “Holy!” enlightenment.

II: Part I of the Poem

Now, “the best minds of [Ginsberg’s] generation” were those Beat Generation writers and their socially non-conforming ilk, engaging in all the wild behaviour we associate with them–doing drugs, having promiscuous sex, etc. As a result, they have been “destroyed by madness,” and have been “starving hysterical naked.”

“Naked” could be a reference to illicit sex, but it more likely refers to a lack of possessions in general, as the word is used in Hamlet, Act IV, Scene vii (in which Hamlet writes, in a letter to Claudius, “I am set naked on your kingdom.”). After all, these “best minds” are “starving hysterical naked.” Their wildness comes in large part because of their poverty, the cause of which, in turn, is an issue I’ll delve into in more detail later.

These drug addicts are going “through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix”, yet in spite of their Dionysian sinfulness, they’re also “angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection”. They seem to be offering their own idiosyncratic interpretation of Luther’s injunction to “sin boldly.”

Indeed, there is a duality permeating these pages, cataloguing on the one hand sin, obscenity, and excess, and on the other, a search for spirituality and salvation. They are in “poverty and tatters […] high […] smoking” and “contemplating jazz,” for this music was an important soundtrack to the lives of the Beats, as one can note many times reading Kerouac’s On the Road. Yet they also “bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels…”

The El is the elevated train in New York, but it’s also a Hebrew name for God. Note also that the words “Mohammedan” and “negro” were being used here before they were considered unacceptable. Ginsberg’s reference to the Muslim faith is one of many examples of the Beats taking spiritual inspiration from non-Western sources. Some Beats having hung out in Tangiers (in the International Zone in particular) can, in part, be seen as an example of this influence.

The use of “who” beginning many of the long lines of this first part of “Howl” is paralleled with the refrains of “Moloch” in Part Two, “I’m with you in Rockland” in Part Three, and “Holy” in the ‘footnote.’ “Who” reminds us that the subject of Part One, an almost interminable sentence, is Ginsberg’s beatnik friends. The refrains of the other three parts also, of course, remind us of their respective subjects, an explanation of which will come when I get to those parts below.

Special attention should be given to Ginsberg’s use of long lines, something he derived from Walt Whitman, whose non-conforming behaviour (including homosexuality) could make him a kind of Beat Generation poet of the 19th century. One could compare these long lines to the sometimes lengthy verses of the Bible, giving Whitman’s and Ginsberg’s poetry a near-sacred feel, in spite of (or perhaps because of) its sensuality (recall in this connection the sensuality of the Song of Solomon… could the dedication to Carl Solomon be linked to this Biblical association?).

Long lines are oceanic, inclusive, requiring deep breaths to take in everything before expressing everything. They are universal because the poetry of Whitman and Ginsberg is universal: these two men are bards of Brahman, seeing holiness in everything (read Ginsberg’s “footnote” to see what I mean). The two poets embrace all religious traditions, like Pi, but they also reject the limitations of any one religious tradition or dogma. These long lines, in including everything but eschewing the rigidity of traditional short and exact metres, exemplify the same paradox in poetry.

In “Blake-like tragedy”, we find another example of a spiritual non-conformist in whom Ginsberg found inspiration. I discussed William Blake‘s unconventional approach to Christianity in the “Jerusalem” section of this analysis of an ELP album.

Ginsberg was once “expelled from the academies for crazy […] obscene odes…”, that is, he was kicked out of Columbia University for writing obscenities on his dorm room window. His friends “got busted in their pubic beards returning through Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,” that is, they were caught in Laredo with weed stashed in their underwear.

They “ate fire” and “drank turpentine in Paradise Alley…”, referring to the ingesting of toxic substances (drugs and alcohol) in a slum in New York City, full of run-down hotels, brothels, and dope dealers. Nonetheless, in a poem, Paradise Alley also has heavenly associations, and thus in this line we have another juxtaposition of the sinful with the spiritual.

Those readers who may have difficulty reconciling my close associating of sin with mysticism should take into account the idea of the dialectical unity of opposites, an idea I’ve symbolized with the image of the ouroboros in a number of blog articles. Two extreme opposites meet, or phase into each other, where the serpent’s head bites its tail, and all intermediate points are found in their respective places along the middle of the ouroboros’ body, coiled into a circular continuum.

Applied to “Howl,” this means that the harshest Hell phases into the highest Heaven and vice versa. One cannot understand this idea while adhering to traditional Christian dogma and its literal reading of an eternity in either Heaven or Hell. My interpretation of the ‘afterlife’ is metaphorical. In our moments of darkest despair, we often see the light and come out the other side (“It’s always darkest before the dawn.”); this is what Christ‘s Passion, harrowing of Hell, and Resurrection symbolize. Note also that those who rise to the highest points of pride tend to fall, as Satan and the rebel angels did. Finally, keep in mind the BeatitudesMatthew 5:4 and 5:11-12 in particular.

This Heaven/Hell dialectic can be seen in the four parts of “Howl.” This first part is the Hell thesis, with the second, “Moloch” part representing the Satanic cause of that Hell; the “Rockland” third part is the Purgatory sublation (though therapy in an insane asylum must be judged to be a remarkably ill-conceived purging of sin), and the “footnote” is the antithesis Heaven that stands in opposition to this present first part.

In this way, we can see “Howl” as Ginsberg’s modern Beat rendition of Dante‘s Divine Comedy. And just as Dante’s Inferno is the most famous first part of his epic poem, so is the infernal first part of “Howl” the most famous part, with its emphasis on human suffering. Similarly, Pasolini‘s Salò, with its sections divided up into Circles of Manias, Shit, and Blood–like Dante’s nine circles of Hell–is also focused on suffering, sin, and sexual perversity.

To come back to the last line discussed before my dialectical digression, and to link both discussions, this inferno part makes fitting reference, in this line, to the paradiso of Paradise Alley and the purgatorio of the “purgatoried […] torsos”. These torsos may be purged of sin through the ingesting of alcohol and drugs, or through sex (“pubic beards”, “torsos”, and “cock and endless balls”).

Just as there’s a dialectical unity of Heaven and Hell (i.e., one must go through Hell to reach Heaven, as Jesus did, the passing through the ouroboros’ bitten tail to get to its biting head), so is there also a dialectical unity of sin and sainthood (i.e., one uses drugs or sexual ecstasy to have mystical visions or spiritual ecstasy). The fires of Hell are those of desire, in samsāra; blowing out the flame leads to nirvana. The Mahayana Buddhist tradition, however, sees a unity between samsara and nirvana–the fire is the absence of fire…Heaven is Hell. The Beats, in their excesses, understand these paradoxes.

Part of those Dionysian excesses are, as mentioned above, the alcohol and drug abuse (“peyote” and “wine drunkenness over the rooftops”). Similarly, the Beats were “chained […] to subways for the endless ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine“, that is, they were so high on the benzedrine that they were frozen from doing anything while on their endless joyride on the subway, “chained” to it, all the way from Battery to the Bronx. Note how the Bronx is “holy”: in their sinful indulgence on drugs, the beatniks attain sainthood in the Bronx.

At Fugazzi’s…Bar and Grill, at 305, 6th Ave. in New York City?…they are “listening to the crack of doom on the hydrogen jukebox”. In Macbeth, “the crack of doom” is the end of the world, and a “hydrogen jukebox” suggests the hydrogen bombs that had been created, recently as of the writing of “Howl,” a bomb whose destructive power, greater than the original atomic bomb, can bring us even closer to “the crack of doom.”

Ginsberg and company, however, are getting wasted listening to music–jazz, presumably, on the jukebox. They are creating their own armageddon of drunken self-destruction. That end of the world, though, is followed by the Kingdom of God: the beatniks, in their rejection of the conservative values of the nuclear family, are getting nuclear bombed drunk; and the hellish fires of “the crack of doom,” the ouroboros’ bitten tail, will be passed through to attain the heavenly Kingdom of God, the serpent’s biting head.

The dialectic is manifested once again in how this “lost battalion of platonic conversationalists” are “jumping down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills off Empire State…” Since sorrows “come not single spies but in battalions,” it’s easy to see them leading to despair and suicide. Yet the beatniks would express platonic ideals in philosophical discussion, an Apollonian trait; of course, in true Dionysian fashion, they would also jump off of buildings to their deaths to escape the egoistic experience for that of the oneness of Brahman.

Thus, the juxtaposition of jumping suicides with platonic conversation is a case of “whole intellects disgorged […] for seven days and nights”…the seven days and nights of Biblical creation, ending in a day and night of rest–that Heaven of intellectual bliss? It’s fitting to include the Sabbath–“meat for the Synagogue”, since Ginsberg was Jewish.

Indeed, the Beats return from debauchery to spirituality in not only the Synagogue, but also “Zen New Jersey”, “suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grindings and migraines of China under drunk withdrawal”. We’re reminded of the Opium Wars, the victimizing of China under Western imperialism, and maybe the jumping “off Empire State” is Ginsberg’s rejection of that very imperialism.

These hipsters “studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telepathy and bop kabbalah because the cosmos instinctively vibrated at their feet in Kansas”. Plotinus was a neoplatonist who believed that all of reality is based on “the One,” a basic, ineffable state beyond being and non-being, the creative source of the universe and the teleological end of all things. St. John of the Cross was a Spanish mystic and poet who wrote The Dark Night of the Soul, both a poem and a commentary on it that describe a phase of passive purification in the mystical development of one’s spirit.

What’s interesting here is how Ginsberg sandwiches, between these two writers of spiritual, philosophical matters, Edgar Allan Poe, also a great writer, but one whose death at the relatively young age forty was the self-destructive result of alcoholism, drug abuse, and/or suicide, his last moments having been in a delirious, agitated state with hallucinations.

Though St. John of the Cross hadn’t intended this meaning, “the dark night of the soul” has the modern meaning of ‘a crisis in faith,’ or ‘an extremely difficult or painful period in one’s life.’ The combining of these three writers in the above-quoted line in “Howl” suggests a dialectical thesis, negation, and sublation of them respectively: the wisdom of philosophy (Plotinus), the destructiveness of the Dionysian way (Poe), and a combination of passive mystical purification with a spiritual crisis and a painful time in life (St. John of the Cross).

Such an interpretation dovetails well with the Heaven and Hell, saintly sinner theme I’ve been discussing as running all the way through Ginsberg’s poem. The juxtaposition “bop kabbalah” continues that theme, with “bop” representing the contemporary jazz that he and his beatnik pals were grooving to while drunk or stoned, and “kabbalah” representing Jewish mysticism, a fitting form of it for Ginsberg.

This “bop kabbalah” dialectic is further developed in how “the cosmos instinctively vibrated at their feet in Kansas,” since Kansas was the Mecca of jazz and bebop for hipsters at the time; and a ‘vibrating cosmos’ suggests the oceanic waves of Brahman, or Plotinus’ One. The hipsters were also going “through the streets of Idaho seeking visionary Indian angels…”, even more of a juxtaposition of the common and the cosmic.

They’d be “seeking jazz or sex or soup”, and they would “converse about America and Eternity”. These hipsters led bohemian lives, but also wanted to know the rest of the world, so by “America” it is not meant to be only the US but also Latin America–the Mayan ruins of Mexico. To escape the evil of American capitalism, Ginsberg “took ship to Africa”. These are examples of the Beats immersing themselves in the wisdom of other cultures. The protesting of capitalism is part of the basis of the Beats’ destructive Dionysian non-conformity; hence, they “burned cigarette holes in their arms”.

Note how the Beats’ protesting of “the narcotic tobacco haze of capitalism”, having “distributed Supercommunist pamphlets” would have been done in 1950s America, at a time of welfare capitalism, higher taxes for the rich, and strong unions. Imagine the passion the Beats would have had distributing “Supercommunist pamphlets” in today’s neoliberal nightmare of a world!

They “bit detectives in the neck”, those protectors of private property and the capitalist system. Recall how Marx compared capitalists to vampires, as Malcolm X called them bloodsuckers; Ginsberg’s vampire-like Beats biting cops’ necks is indulging in amusing irony here. After all, he insists that the Beats’ non-conforming sexuality and intoxication are “committing no crime”. They “howled on their knees in the subway […] waving genitals…”

More obscenity and saintliness are merged when Ginsberg says they “let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists and screamed with joy.” This line in particular got him in trouble with the law, though in the end, “Howl” was ruled to have “redeeming social importance.” Similarly, the Beats “blew and were blown by those human seraphim”, and “balled in the morning in the evening […] scattering their semen freely…”

When a “blond and naked angel came to pierce them with a sword”, we see an allusion to The Ecstasy of St. Teresa, a fusion of sexual ecstasy with spiritual ecstasy.

Now, “the three old shrews of fate” who have taken away the Beats’ boy lovers are the Moirai. These can be seen to personify the kind of conformist, nuclear family that the Beats are rebelling against. Each shrew is one-eyed, for in her conformity, she cannot see fully. One is “of the heterosexual dollar”, a slave to the capitalist, patriarchal family, and in her complaining of her lot in life, she seems shrewish. One shrew “winks out of the womb”, since by limiting her life to that of a career mother, she also sees little. The last shrew “does nothing but sit on her ass and snip the […] threads of the craftsman’s loom”; she is Atropos, who in cutting the thread ends people’s lives, yet in limiting herself to doing traditional women’s work, she’s ending her own life, too.

The Beats “copulated ecstatic and insatiate […] and ended […] with a vision of ultimate cunt and come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness”. Here again, we see Ginsberg uniting the sexual with the “ecstatic” spiritual: in “ultimate cunt”, we have a fusion of the final with the beginning of life; similarly, “come” and “gyzym” would begin life, yet here we have “the last” of it. The end is dialectically the beginning–the Alpha and the Omega, the eternal, cyclical ouroboros.

Such heterosexual Beats as “N.C.”, or Neal Cassady, “sweetened the snatches of a million girls”. He “went out whoring through Colorado in myriad stolen night-cars”. Indeed, a reading of On the Road will reveal how Cassady (i.e., Dean Moriarty) did exactly this.

When it says that the Beats “ate the lamb stew of the imagination”, since there’s so much juxtaposition of sensuality with spirituality in “Howl,” I suspect that “lamb” here refers at least in part to the Lamb of God. Ginsberg may have been Jewish, but as a Beat poet, he would have been interested in religious and spiritual traditions outside of his own. The ‘eating of the lamb stew of the imagination’ would thus be yet another example of “Howl” fusing the sensual and the spiritual.

The Beats were “under the tubercular sky surrounded by orange crates of theology,” yet another example of such fusions, as is “rocking and rolling over lofty incantations”. They “threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for Eternity outside of Time,” indicating a preference of the transcendent over the mundane; yet they’ve also engaged in suicidal acts, indicating the despair that bars one from entry to Heaven. Such suicidal acts include “cut[ting] their wrists three times successfully unsuccessfully,” as well as having “jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually happened”.

Some Beats were “burned alive in their innocent flannel suits”, an apparent allusion to The Man in the Gray Flannel Suit, by Sloan Wilson, another Beat book. One Beat, Bill Cannastra, was with those “who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of the subway window”: Cannastra died drunkenly trying to exit a moving subway car.

Some “danced on broken wineglasses barefoot”. Some went “journeying to each other’s hotrod Golgotha jail-solitude watch or Birmingham jazz incantation”. Again, we see a merging of the sensual (“wineglasses,” “jazz,” “hotrod”) and the spiritual (i.e., the Christian imagery of “Golgotha”), as well as a fusion of salvation (Christ’s crucifixion at Golgotha, the place of the skull) and condemnation (“jail”).

The Beats hoped, in their travels, “to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out Eternity”. They were often in Denver, as Kerouac and Cassady were (represented by Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty, respectively) in On the Road. All of the drinking and partying therein is Dionysian mysticism, if properly understood.

For in spite of how antithetical this drunken partying may seem to the spiritual life, the Beats also “fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying for each other’s salvation”. The cathedrals were “hopeless” because there’s no salvation in conventional, orthodox religion.

So instead, they “retired to Mexico to cultivate a habit, or Rocky Mount to tender Buddha or Tangiers to boys […] or Harvard to Narcissus…” Alternative forms of spirituality may have been Buddhism (consider Kerouac and The Dharma Bums), or the dialectical opposite of spirituality, indulgence in drugs or pederasty, or a generally narcissistic attitude. In any case, the “hopeless cathedrals” would never have sufficed for the Beats.

Just as there’s a fine line between Heaven and Hell as described in “Howl,” so is there a fine line between genius and madness here. Ginsberg has celebrated the inspired creative genius of Kerouac, Cassady, Burroughs…himself in this very poem…and others. Ginsberg has demonstrated many of the acts of madness of the Beats. Now we must examine the attempts ‘to cure’ madness.

Now, what must be emphasized here is that it’s not so much about curing mental illness as it is about taking non-conforming individuals and making them conform. Recall that at this time, the mid-20th century, homosexuality was considered a form of mental illness. The proposed cures for these ‘pathologies’ were such things as lobotomy, “Metrazol electricity hydrotherapy psychotherapy occupational therapy pingpong…”

Recall that “Howl” is dedicated to Carl Solomon, who voluntarily institutionalized himself, “presented [himself] on the granite steps of the madhouse…” Solomon, mental institutions (what Ginsberg calls “Rockland”), and pingpong will return in Part Three of this poem.

The psychotherapy in these mental institutions will include such fashionably Freudian ideas as the Oedipus complex, as we can see in Ginsberg’s line about “mother finally ******”. The ultimate narcissistic fantasy, about sexual union with the mother, Lacan‘s objet petit a, has to have a four-letter word censored, for a change in this poem, since it’s a gratification too great for even Ginsberg to discuss directly: “ah, Carl, while you are not safe I am not safe…”

Still, while mired not only in madness but, worse, also in the prisons of psychiatry–those cuckoo nests–these incarcerated Beats can still experience the divine. They have “dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time and Space […] trapped the archangel of the soul […] jumping with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna Deus…”

This connection with the divine is achieved through the use of language, a kind of talking cure, entry into the cultural/linguistic world of Lacan‘s Symbolic, as expressed in Ginsberg’s poetry and the prose of Beats like Kerouac and Burroughs. They’ll use “elemental verbs and set the noun and dash of consciousness […] to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose…”

The Beats are thus a combination of “the madman bum and angel beat in Time,” a marriage of Heaven and Hell (recall the “Blake-like tragedy” above), the best and the worst, “speechless and intelligent and shaking with shame,…” They “blew the suffering of America’s naked mind for love into an eli eli lamma lamma sabachthani saxophone cry…” In this, we see how the Beats combine jazz sax partying with suffering, despair, Lamb-of-God salvation and love.

“Howl” describes the individual experiences of men like Cannastra, Cassady, Kerouac, Solomon, and Ginsberg as if all the Beats had experienced them collectively, since in their solidarity of non-conformity, they felt the Dionysian unity, Plotinus’ One, Brahman’s nirvana. Ginsberg will feel that solidarity with Solomon in Part Three, but first,…

III: Part II of the Poem

Note how Moloch is described as a “sphinx of cement and aluminum” who “bashed open [the Beats’] skulls and ate up their brains and imagination”. Moloch, an ancient Canaanite god depicted in the Bible and understood to have been one requiring child sacrifice, is a Satanic figure in “Howl,” the Devil responsible for the Inferno of Ginsberg’s Divine Comedy here. But what does this Satanic figure in turn represent?

The “sphinx of cement and aluminum” that is also “Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars” is modern-day industrial capitalism. Children are sacrificed to this Moloch, this Mammon of money, by having their skulls bashed open and their brains and imagination eaten. In our education systems, children’s energy, individuality, and creativity are all stifled and replaced with obedience and conformity, that energy redirected towards making money for the Man, never for the people, for whom it’s “unobtainable.”

The “Solitude” of Moloch is alienation, the lack of togetherness among people, which has been replaced by cold-blooded competition. This had led to “Children screaming under the stairways!”

In this second part–instead of the preceding part’s long lines ending in commas, which suggested an ongoing problem seemingly without end, the hopelessness of eternal infernal punishment–we have lines ending in exclamation points, to express the rage Ginsberg feels against an economic system to which we all feel we’ve had to sell our souls. Small wonder the non-conforming Beat writers were going mad in a drunken, Dionysian frenzy.

Moloch is an “incomprehensible prison!” It’s a “soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgment! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments!” Ginsberg recognizes, as so many right-wing libertarians fail to do (or are dishonest about not recognizing), that capitalism very much requires a state and a Congress to make laws that protect private property. Government only does socialist stuff when it’s a workers’ state, not the dictatorship of the bourgeoisie, as the US has always been.

These “buildings [of] judgment” that are “the vast stone of war” are symbols of the modern, industrial world. The capitalist government has far too little funding for the poor, for education, for healthcare or for affordable housing, but it has plenty of money for the military. The Moloch government is “stunned” because it’s confused over who should have access to this tax revenue.

The evil industry of capitalism “is pure machinery!” It’s “blood is running money!” Since capitalism in our modern world spills into imperialism, as Lenin pointed out, then it’s easy to see how money can be linked with blood, death, and human suffering in war. Moloch’s “fingers are ten armies!” These are the armies of the Americans who, already in the 1950s, were occupying South Korea, making their women into prostitutes for the enjoyment of the GIs, and making their men fight their brothers and sisters in the north. Moloch’s “ear is a smoking bomb”, like those dropped all over North Korea.

The specifically modern, industrial nature of the capitalism that Ginsberg is excoriating here is found in such lines as this: “Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the longs streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose factories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose smoke-stacks and antennae crown the cities!”

These skyscrapers will be office buildings, places of business, the nerve centres of capitalism. Just as Moloch and Mammon are false gods, so are the “endless Jehovahs” a heathenizing of the Biblical God by pluralizing Him. The irony mustn’t have been lost on Jewish Ginsberg to know that Elohim can be the one God of the Bible as well as the many gods of paganism. Indeed, Judeo-Christianity has often been used to justify capitalism, imperialism, and settler-colonialism.

Moloch’s “love is endless oil and stone!” Note the endless coveting of oil in the Middle East. This would have been evident to Ginsberg as early as 1953, when the coup d’état in Iran happened to protect British oil interests in the region. The indictment against capitalism continues in these words: “Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks!”

Note also that Moloch’s “poverty is the specter of genius!” By “genius,” we can easily read Communism, since European poverty in the mid-19th century inspired the spectre that was haunting the continent.

“Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream Angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! Lacklove and manless in Moloch!” Again, Ginsberg addresses the problem of alienation caused by capitalism. He also explains in this long line how one resolves the contradiction between sinning and the pursuit of salvation. One “dream[s of] Angels” in a desperate attempt to escape Moloch’s inferno. Still, that very desperation, in finding the escape so impossible, causes one to go “Crazy in Moloch!”

Conservative society’s moralistic condemnation of homosexuality, something gay Ginsberg would have been more than usually sensitive to, reduced his form of sexual expression to mere pornographic language, hence “Cocksucker in Moloch!” Recall Senator Joseph McCarthy‘s vulgar homophobia when he said, back at a time when such language would have been far more shocking, “If you want to be against McCarthy, boys, you’ve got to be either a Communist or a cocksucker.” Of course, the taboo against homosexuality was so aggravated at the time that it would have been so much more difficult for LGBT people like Ginsberg to find love, hence “Lacklove and manless in Moloch!”

“Moloch…entered [his] soul early!” It brainwashed him as a child into thinking he needed to conform to the ways of a capitalist, heterosexual society. He’d later have to work to unlearn all of that poisonous conditioning. “Moloch…frightened [him] out of [his] natural ecstasy!” He had to “abandon” Moloch.

Moloch is an industrial capitalist world of “Robot apartments!” (Imagine how much more robotic they’re becoming now, in our world of smart cities, with AI surveillance.) The “blind capitals! demonic industries!…invincible madhouses!” [to be dealt with in the next part] “granite cocks! monstrous bombs!” are those of a capitalist state, far more totalitarian than a socialist one could ever be.

“They broke their backs lifting Moloch to heaven!” Those phallic skyscrapers are “granite cocks!” Moloch is “lifting the city to Heaven”, with these skyscrapers as Towers of Babel: this tireless, slavelike construction has confused our language, making us incapable of communicating with or understanding each other, more capitalist alienation.

The pain and Hell of Moloch’s Inferno, though, is also in close proximity, as I described above, with the Heaven, the Paradiso, to which the Beats were trying to escape. Hence, “Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies!” One has mystical experiences of bliss and psychotic breaks from reality at the same time. One thus also has “Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit!” One has “Breakthroughs!…flips and crucifixions!…Highs! Epiphanies! Despairs!…suicides!…Mad generation!”

Though this is the Hell of Moloch, there is also “Real holy laughter…!…the holy yells!” The “Howl! Howl! Howl!” of Hell leads to holiness, that passing from the bitten tail of the ouroboros to its biting head. To reach the very best, one must pass through the absolute worst.

Still, some tried to purge the Beats through the dubious mental institutions, and this is where we must go next…

IV: Part III of the Poem

This part of “Howl” is most directly addressed to Carl Solomon, to whom, recall, the entire poem is dedicated–this ‘Song of Solomon,’ if you will. Ginsberg met Solomon in a mental hospital in 1949; he calls it “Rockland” in the poem, though it was actually Columbia Presbyterian Psychological Institute. In fact, among Solomon’s many complaints about Ginsberg and “Howl” was his vehement insistence that he was “never in Rockland” and that this third part of the poem “garbles history completely.”

As much of a fabrication as “Rockland” is, though, we can indulge Ginsberg in a little poetic license. After all, “Rockland” has a much better literary ring to it than “Columbia Presbyterian Psychological Institute,” or “New York State Psychiatric Institute,” or even “Pilgrim Psychiatric Center,” this latter being another psychiatric hospital to which Solomon was admitted.

In any case, maybe the point isn’t so much about Ginsberg being literally, physically with Solomon in the correctly-named mental institution, but rather that the poet was with Solomon in spirit, in solidarity with him, in a metaphorically therapeutic state of being, a true purging of Solomon’s sin and pain, which Ginsberg called “Rockland.” As such, this ‘mental hospital,’ as it were, is the Purgatorio that the actual hospital could never have been. The actual hospital would have just pushed conformity onto Solomon. The solidarity of Ginsberg and the other Beats, being with Solomon “in Rockland,” is the real cure.

So as I see it, the refrain “I’m with you in Rockland” means that Ginsberg was in solidarity with Solomon in his process of mental convalescence, a far better healer than the best shrinks in his actual loony bin. Ginsberg’s love and friendship, as that of all the other Beats, is a therapy to make that of his doctors and nurses seem like wretched Ratcheds in comparison. This part of “Howl” is the Purgatorio because of the Beats, not because of the therapists.

Solomon is “madder than” Ginsberg is, in both senses: more insane, and so voluntarily in a mental institution that the poet is only visiting; and angrier, because of the conformist society he was so at odds with that he chose to be put in the institution.

Solomon “imitate[s] the shade of [Ginsberg’s] mother”, who also had mental health issues, and so Ginsberg’s love for her inspired his empathy for Solomon. Similar empathy can be seen between Ginsberg, Solomon, and all the other Beats, since they were all “great writers on the same dreadful typewriter”–the Beats tended to type, rather than write, their literary works. Recall the caustic words of Truman Capote about the Beats: It “isn’t writing at all–it’s typing.”

Recall how the first part of “Howl” had its lines ending in commas, making it one interminable sentence with only breaths to break it up. The second part had its thoughts ending in a plethora of exclamation marks…endless screaming about the agonies that Satanic Moloch was inflicting on all the Beats. In this third part, however, there are neither commas nor exclamation marks. No periods, parentheses, or dashes, either. There’s no punctuation at all, unless you count the apostrophe in “I’m”. This lack of an indication of pauses suggests a kind of rapid-fire speaking, a frantic dumping-out of words, a therapeutic release of feelings that have been pent up for far too long. Such expression is a true purging of pain.

Now, in direct contrast to this verbal purging, this Symbolic expression of the undifferentiated, ineffable Real, Solomon suffered from the staff of the mental hospitals and their bogus therapy. The “nurses [are] the harpies of the Bronx”. He would “scream in a straitjacket that [he was] losing the game of the actual pingpong of the abyss.” I assume that a pingpong table was provided in Solomon’s hospital, in an abortive attempt to allow the patients to enjoy themselves.

He would “bang on the catatonic piano”, trying and failing to express himself artistically on instruments presumably also provided by the hospital. The immobility of catatonia, a perfect metaphor for the lifelessness of the patients, results in discords ‘banged on the piano’ instead of flowing, expressive music.

One’s innocent soul “should never die ungodly in an armed madhouse […] where fifty more shocks will never return your soul to its body”. This, of course, is a reference to the particularly egregious practice of electroshock treatments for the mentally ill. Ginsberg felt that shock therapy robbed Solomon of his soul. This practice is critiqued in Ken Kesey‘s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

Solomon would “accuse [his] doctors of insanity”, given such truly psychopathic practices as described in the previous paragraph. Indeed, this Purgatorio of Ginsberg’s poem, set in a mental institution, is ironic in how the opposite of purgatory occurs here, where a restoration to mental health is expected, while the friendship and solidarity Ginsberg has with Solomon is the real cure.

Ginsberg and Solomon, both Jews, would “plot the Hebrew socialist revolution against the fascist national Golgotha”, the American political establishment of the 1950s that was right-wing and, ironically, Christian. American imperialism crushes revolutionaries just as Roman imperialism crucified Christ. The Rockland “comrades [will be] all together singing the final stanzas of the Internationale.”

The American government, whose FBI and CIA were monitoring men like Ginsberg in the 1950s for their subversive activities, “coughs all night and won’t let [them] sleep”.

Their “souls’ airplanes” will “drop angelic bombs”, and the “imaginary walls” of the hospital will “collapse”. The “skinny legions” thus can “run outside […] O victory forget your underwear we’re free”. As I said above, the true healing from mental illness will come outside of the mental institutions, not inside them. Without underwear, the freed inmates will be naked, allowed to be their true selves, with no need to cover up who they really are.

Solomon thus will go “on the highway across America in tears to the door of [Ginsberg’s] cottage”. This cottage will be the locale of restoration to mental health that the loony bins could never be. His cottage will be the real purgatory, cleansing all the Beats of their sins and readying them for Heaven, for Ginsberg’s Paradiso, which is…

V: Footnote to Howl

Allegedly, Ginsberg stated in the Dedication that he took the title for the poem from Kerouac. I still believe, however, that the title for “Howl” was inspired, whether in the conscious or unconscious of Ginsberg or Kerouac, by Lear’s repeated cry of “Howl!” over Cordelia’s death.

I insist on this allusion in part because of how the “footnote” begins, with its uttering of “Holy!” fifteen times. On the one hand, “Holy!” can be heard as a pun on “Howl!” On the other hand, “Holy!” is the dialectical opposite of “Howl!” It is yet another instance of the Heaven/Hell dialectic that permeates the entire poem.

This repetition of “Holy!” implies the repetition of the title, just as Lear repeated the word four times.

Like the second part, the ‘footnote’ ends each statement with an exclamation point. The second part, with its Satanic Moloch, is like the Centre of Hell in its Ninth Circle, as depicted by Dante in his Inferno. This area is the worst part of Hell, where Satan is trapped waist-deep in ice, his three faces’ mouths feasting on Brutus, Cassius, and Judas Iscariot.

My point is that the same punctuation is used in the very worst and best places in “Howl.” Here is where the bitten tail of the ouroboros, where Satan’s mouths are feasting, leads immediately to the serpent’s biting head of Heaven, Ginsberg’s Paradiso. The exclamation points represent screams of horror in the “Moloch” part, and screams of joy in this “Holy!” footnote.

“Everything is holy!” to Ginsberg. “The world is holy! The soul is holy!” As a convert to Buddhism, following such Mahayana forms as Tibetan Buddhism, Ginsberg would have understood the unity of samsara and nirvana. So while all life is suffering, or the duhkha of samsara, it’s all manifestations of Buddha-consciousness, too, or “Holy!” Once again, Heaven and Hell are unified.

Even the ‘sinful’ or dirty parts of the body are holy: “The tongue and cock and hand and asshole holy!” Furthermore, “everybody’s holy! everywhere is holy!”

“The bum’s as holy as the seraphim! the madman is holy as you my soul are holy!” People from the lowest ranks of society to the highest orders of angels are of equal worth, the greatest worth…holy!

The typewriter may have been “dreadful” back in the third part of “Howl,” but here it’s holy, as “the poem is holy”. Of course, the Beats are holy, including Ginsberg himself, Solomon, Kerouac, Burroughs, and Cassady, “the unknown buggered and suffering beggars holy the hideous human angels!”

Ginsberg must also acknowledge the sanctity of his “mother in the insane asylum!” He similarly praises the sanctity of “the groaning saxophone!…the bop apocalypse! Holy the jazzbands marijuana hipsters peace peyote pipes and drums!”

While he condemned the skyscrapers of Moloch in the second part, here he sees them as holy, as well as the solitude of alienation he called evil earlier. The “mysterious rivers of tears under the streets!” are also holy. What is painful is also divine. Heaven and Hell are one. So the “lone juggernaut,” a Hindu god whose worship was once believed in the West to involve religious fanatics throwing themselves before its idol’s chariot, to be crushed under its wheels, is actually holy and good.

“Holy the vast lamb of the middleclass!” The petite bourgeoisie of 1950s American would still have been predominantly Christian, of the Lamb of God, and thus disapproving of Ginsberg’s homosexuality, but he deems them holy nonetheless, as he does “the crazy shepherds of rebellion!” And since Jesus was “the good Shepherd,” we can see in these “shepherds of rebellion” another paradox of conformist Christian with rebellious Beats.

He praises as holy many cities of the world, including New York, San Francisco, Paris, Tangiers, Moscow, and Istanbul, reinforcing the sense of a pantheistic universe.

Ginsberg, as a gay activist and socialist, was somewhat disenchanted with, for example, the social conservatism he saw in Cuba and its persecution of homosexuals in the mid-1960s, as well as with China, who turned against him as a “troublemaker,” and with Czechoslovakia’s arresting him for drug use. Because of these kinds of disappointments (these above examples having happened long after the writing and publication of “Howl,” of course, but still illustrative of the general kind of disillusion he must have already felt toward the, for him, insufficiently progressive Third International), he spoke of a “fifth International” as holy.

Note also “holy the Angel in Moloch!” Once again, we see the dialectic of Heaven and Hell, of angels and devils, and of nirvana and samsara. Similarly, the sea and the desert are holy, visions and hallucinations are holy, miracles and the abyss are holy, and “forgiveness! mercy! charity! faith!…suffering! magnanimity!” are holy.

Finally, the “intelligent kindness of the soul!” is holy.

VI: Conclusion

What makes “Howl” a great work of literature, like any great literature, is its embrace of the All. The dialectical unity of opposites is a kind of shorthand for expressing the universal in its infinite complexity. Such merisms as “the heavens and the earth” or “good and evil” are unions of opposites as a quick way of including everything between them, like the eternity of the cyclical ouroboros. The unified Heaven and Hell of “Howl” thus include everything between them, too.

Howling is holy, and vice versa.

‘The Devil’s Playground’ is Published!

The Devil’s Playground: A Horror Charity Anthology for Drug Addiction, by Dark Moon Rising Publications, is finally published on Amazon, in paperback and ebook forms! It will be published on Godless on December 8th.

My short story, ‘Serene,’ is one of the stories in the anthology. All proceeds donated will be for To Write Love On Her Arms, an organization to help people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury, and suicide. The theme of all of these stories is drug addiction and its self-destructive effects. 

If one were to read this story as well as my story, ‘NIB,’ in the horror anthology Symptom of the Universe: a Horror Tribute Anthology to Black Sabbath, also from Dark Moon Rising Publications, one might find a number of similarities between the stories. There are crucial differences between them, though. In ‘NIB,’ the female drug dealer is in love with the narrating protagonist, who has a fear of sexual contact due to childhood trauma caused by sexual abuse, and he uses drugs to forget his pain. In ‘Serene,’ however, the female drug dealer is luring men into enjoying her drug, taking advantage of them while stoned, and deliberately killing them if they reject her love. Both stories, ultimately, are allegories on the seductive yet destructive nature of drug abuse.

Many other great authors have stories included in this anthology (check the pic at the top to see all of their names), so please, check it out! I’m sure you’ll love the stories, and you’ll be helping out an important cause! 🙂

‘The Ancestors,’ a Horror Story, Chapter Thirteen (Final Chapter)

“Al, no! Please, tell me what’s happening?”

But when Hannah looked in Al’s face, she no longer saw him in there.

She saw Mei instead.

Mei’s cruel, malicious eyes were what was looking back at her.

In total control over Al’s body again, the evil spirit made him raise the knife and point it at Hannah. Mei made him grab her by the throat and shove her against the dining room wall.

Shaking, she gasped, “Al…Al…” through what little voice Mei allowed her to let out.

Mei had Al bare hateful teeth, like a wolf’s fangs, as the knife came slowly closer to Hannah’s chest. Though Al was trying desperately to keep the blade from getting any closer to the woman he loved, she saw only Mei in his eyes–her malevolence, her single-minded wish to stab Hannah to death.

“It’s your…turn…to die, Hannah,” Mei’s feminine voice said through Al’s mouth.

“This…isn’t you, Al,” Hannah gasped, her one hand on the wrist of Al’s knife-gripping hand, her other trying to loosen Mei’s grip on her neck. “Fight it.”

The hand holding the knife was shaking, but for the moment not getting any closer.

“Of course…this isn’t…Al,” Mei said. “It’s Mei.”

“You’re a…split…personality?”

“No. I’m…one of…Al’s…ancestors.”

“That’s…nonsense. Al, you’re ill. You need…help.”

“Al needs…to die. As soon…as I’m finished…with you.”

The shaking knife was getting closer to her chest.

Hannah kept searching for Al in his eyes.

She still saw only Mei in them.

Al was feeling a splitting headache in his efforts to regain control over his body.

No, Mei, he thought. I won’t let you kill Hannah.

The tip of the blade was now a millimetre or two away from Hannah’s skin, just above the top button of her dress. The knife shook a bit, and the blade cut off the button, exposing more of her skin to the sharp tip.

“Al…please!”

A slight scrape of the tip let out a little red.

She looked in his eyes…and she saw Al again.

He was pulling the shaking knife away from her, with all of his strength, his headache killing him, and the soreness in his arms–from Mei’s attempt to keep control–adding to his agony.

Finally, with the knife-gripping arm safely away from Hannah, he started regaining control of his other hand, which loosened its grip on her neck. She pulled free and got away from the wall.

He turned to face her, having most of his control back. He was bent over, panting.

“Al? Are you OK? Are you back?”

“Yeah, I’m back, for the moment. Mei just left me, completely.”

“As soon as we call the police and explain what happened, we’ll find a therapist for you, and you can tell them all about this ‘Mei.'”

“No, Hannah. This can’t go on. I have to die.”

He was looking at that knife in his hand.

“What do you mean, you ‘have to die’? You won’t go to jail, Al. You’ll be found not guilty by reason of…no offence…insanity. We’ll get you the psychiatric help you need. I won’t abandon you.”

“You don’t understand, Hannah. My problem isn’t mental illness, though I’m sure it must look that way to you. The spirit of Mei, one of the family ancestors, is still inside my body. She relinquished control…I don’t know why, but she’ll come back and take control of me again. Then she’ll try to kill you again. I can’t fight her off forever. She will succeed, sooner or later. I can’t let that happen. To save you, I must kill myself.” Sobbing, he pointed the sharp end of the blade at his chest.

“Al, no! What are you talking about? There’s no evil spirit inside you. Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of. We’ll get help for you. I still love you. I’m sorry I said we were through. I still want us to be together.” Now she was sobbing.

“Hannah, I’m not insane.” His arms were shaking as he brought the tip of the blade to his chest. “I know full well what I’m doing. I know now that we cannot be together. I’m doing this, though, because I love you. Either Mei makes me kill you, or I kill myself. There is no other way out of this.”

“Al! Please, no! It’s just a delusion you’re having. Don’t stab yourself! I love you!”

She reached forward to take the knife from him.

“I love you, Hannah. Never forget that.”

He held the knife with the tip of the blade firmly against his chest, ready to push it in.

“God, no! Al, don’t!

“Oh, no, NO!

She saw no more Al in his eyes. She saw Mei’s cruel grin.

“Al, no!

He shook a bit, then raised the knife, as if to stab her.

“NOOOO!!!” he yelled.

Then the blade swung down in an arc…

…and it went deep in his gut.

“NOOOO!!!” she screamed.

He buckled and fell to the floor, his blood gushing out and staining his shirt.

She put her arms around him and kept screaming. She welcomed his blood on her dress, wanting the stains to stay there so she’d still have at least some of him with her.

I came to this house having everyone, she thought as she kept bawling. Now I have no one.

As she wept and wailed, holding his bloody body tightly against herself and practically bathing in the red, she’d had her eyes squeezed shut, as tight as her hold on his body. Then she opened them.

With her tears obstructing her vision, what she saw was blurry and distorted. In that blurry haze, she saw what at first seemed a hallucination.

She wiped away her tears for a clearer look.

No, it was still there.

And it made no sense.

A glowing vision of three old Chinese in traditional clothes–two women and a man.

In my grief, Hannah thought, I’m truly going crazy.

Thank you, Hannah, for helping us achieve our aim, Po said. You are free to go.

“I’m seeing things,” Hannah gasped. “This isn’t real.”

Oh, we are very real, Hannah, Meng said.

“Wait a minute: your voices sound familiar.”

That’s right, Mei said. You heard me from Al.

And me from Emily, Meng said.

And me from Freddie, Po said.

“I’m imagining this,” Hannah said. “There’s no such thing as ghosts. I’m going crazy.”

If you were going crazy, you wouldn’t think you were going crazy, Meng said. We’re real, we assure you.

Al wasn’t going crazy, either, Mei said. We really were possessing him and his family, and now that our work is done here, we can thank you and say goodbye.

“And what was ‘your work’ that had to be done?”

The destruction of the entire Dan family, Po said.

“Why did they, and the man I loved, have to be killed?”

For failing to pray to us, their ancestors, Mei said.

“I thought Al continued praying to you. He told me so. Why wasn’t that good enough for you?”

Because the snubbing of us by the rest of his family…our family…was already bad enough. We felt too dishonoured to forgive them, Meng said.

And when we aren’t sufficiently prayed to, we spirits turn into demons, Po said. The Dan family is almost an anomaly when it comes to Chinese culture. Most Chinese families are close and loving; this is because they pray to their ancestors. An impious attitude took hold of your boyfriend’s parents, in their adopting of Western secularism.

In rejecting belief in spiritual matters, like most of you in the West, their family unity broke down, and they came apart, Mei said. So many social and family problems that you see in Western society come from rejecting spirituality. This is why Chinese families, on average, hold together far better than your Western families.

“I call bullshit on all of that! My family wasn’t religious in any way, and we were always loving and happy. You destroyed Al’s whole family, and you murdered mine!” She was sobbing again.

She looked through her teary eyes and saw wicked grins on Po, Meng, and Mei.

Why did you kill my family? Why did you make Al kill himself? What did they do to you?”

Oh, we did that for the sheer fun of it, Meng said. We even put the idea in your mind to have your family meet the Dans for dinner…we prodded you to insist on it, never taking ‘no’ for an answer.

The three spirits were still grinning malevolently at her. Her jaw dropped.

“You’re evil, pure evil, far worse than Al’s family!”

What do you expect? Po asked. We’re devils. Thank you for your help, and goodbye.

The three grinning spirits faded away before her eyes.

Hannah let out a loud, ear-splitting scream.

Her screaming and bawling continued over a period of several minutes. A patrol car was going by the house, and the two police in it heard her. They stopped, got out of their car, and ran up to the house.

They looked in a window that revealed the dining room and saw Hannah, still on her knees and holding Al’s bloody body, always sobbing and shaking. They also saw Freddie’s and Emily’s bodies.

“Holy shit!” the male cop said.

“What the hell happened here?” the female cop said.

They went in the house and ran over to Hannah.

“Officer Wong calling,” the male cop said on his cellphone to the local precinct. “We have…what looks like..a triple homicide in the house at…just a minute, I need to take a look…137 Washington Street. We need an ambulance and stretchers.”

The female cop took Hannah in her arms.

“It’s OK, it’s OK,” she said, trying to soothe Hannah.

“No! It’s not OK!” Hannah screamed.

“What happened here? Who killed these people?”

Hannah’s words came out like a frantic firing of machine gun bullets, much too fast for the cops to process. “The ancestors did it! Three demons, two old women and an old man! They killed all of my family, too, up in the attic! They lured us all into a trap! They…”

“What is she raving about?” Officer Wong asked, sneering. “Three demons? Ancestors? This Chinese family may have believed in ancestors and evil spirits, but why would a white woman believe in that nonsense? My family never believed in that old tradition, and I’m glad they didn’t.”

“I have no answers for your questions, Officer Wong,” his partner said, rocking Hannah back and forth gently. “But I guess we’d better check the attic, too.”

“Alright,” he said. “You stay here with her, and I’ll go up there.” He went searching for the stairs.

The three spirits were waiting in the attic.

I don’t like Officer Wong’s lack of faith in us spirits, Po said to Meng and Mei. Maybe we can go after his family, too…just for fun.

All three spirits were grinning.

THE END

Analysis of ‘Payback’

Payback is a 1999 neonoir film directed by Brian Helgeland, written by him, with rewrites for the theatrical release by Terry Hayes. The film is based on the 1962 novel, The Hunter, by Donald E. Westlake, writing under the pseudonym of Richard Stark; this novel had earlier been adapted into the 1967 film, Point Blank.

Payback stars Mel Gibson, with Gregg Henry, Maria Bello, Lucy Liu, Deborah Kara Unger, David Paymer, Bill Duke, William Devane, James Coburn, Kris Kristofferson, and John Glover.

There are actually two substantially different versions of this movie, with different colour grading, different soundtracks, and most importantly, with completely reshot third acts, leading to totally different endings. The test screenings for the film, right after it wrapped, didn’t yield a positive result. It was felt to be excessively dark and violent, with a wife beating, a shot dog, and other characters killed in cold blood.

A more crowd-pleasing version was wanted, so Helgeland was out, Hayes’s rewrites were made, and the central villain–done in a voice-over by Sally Kellerman–was replaced by Kristofferson (both seen and heard), while removing the objectionable parts mentioned above and adding a voice-over narration by Gibson.

Helgeland’s version–the director’s cut–is called Payback: Straight Up, and it was released on DVD, Blu-ray, and HD DVD in 2007. According to The A.V. Club, Straight Up is “a marked improvement on the unrulier original.” Indeed, the theatrical release was not all that well received, and with the generally better critical reception of the director’s cut–which has a darker, more ambiguous ending–one realizes that the reaction of the test-screen audience perhaps should not have been taken too much to heart.

Here is a link to quotes from the film, here is a link to the director’s cut, and here is a link to a PDF of The Hunter. I’ll be comparing both film versions and the plot of the novel.

The main theme of the film is, most obviously, theft, since it’s not just the $70,000 cut that Porter (Gibson–Parker in the novel, who is double-crossed out of $45,000) loses after being double-crossed by his heist partners, Val Resnick (Henry–Mal Resnick in the novel) and Porter’s wife, Lynn (Unger). They’ve stolen the total amount of money from a rival Chinese mafia organization. Porter’s wish to get his $70,000 back from “the Outfit,” a powerful mafia organization Val has given the money to so he can rejoin them after having been kicked out for committing a blunder, is seen by the Outfit as a theft in itself.

Since the film deals with a number of mafia organizations, as well as two corrupt cops (Detectives Hicks and Leary, respectively played by Duke and Jack Conley), and since I have a habit of seeing mafia as representative of competing capitalists, we can see how the alienating, dog-eat-dog world of Payback is allegorical of our own, oh-so-troubled times.

When we don’t have solidarity among the working class, united in their struggle for liberation from capitalist exploitation, those very common people end up attacking each other, fighting with each other, hurting each other. Such is the kind of dog-eat-dog-world we see in Payback.

The theatrical release begins with a scene in a room where a doctor…or sorts…removes bullets from Porter’s back–bullets put there by Lynn during the double-crossing. Because Porter is a professional thief, and therefore would be tracked by the cops if he went to a hospital, he has to resort to this kind of low-quality ‘healthcare.’

The novel begins with Parker as a penniless, shabbily-dressed drifter (one might remember young Hitler during his destitute days…I’ll go into why I’m making this comparison later) crossing the George Washington Bridge into Manhattan and bent on getting his money back. The beginning of the director’s cut is similar (since it’s far more faithful in general to the novel), and after the crossing of the bridge, Porter comes out of a train station that looks like the one at the end of this film version, where he again gets shot, and he needs Rosie (Bello) to drive him to that ‘doctor’ before he dies, thus making the plot of the director’s cut come full circle.

Since The Outfit, as I see it, represents the capitalist system (an idea that can be seen more vividly in the novel, when it’s described as having branches all over the US–in New York City and Chicago, for example–and how it grew from the old Prohibition days into a corporation with an outer veneer of legitimacy, to keep the cops away), and violent, criminal types like Porter/Parker and Val/Mal work sometimes inside (the latter), and sometimes if not always (the former) outside of The Outfit, these two men can be seen to personify fascism in its different aspects.

If that observation seems odd to you, Dear Reader, let me elaborate.

Neither of these men are concerned with how the exploitative, hierarchical structure of capitalism as represented in The Outfit is harmful to the world’s most vulnerable…as fascists aren’t concerned with it, either. Val/Mal wants into the system in order to enjoy its perks (just as Hitler enjoyed the backing of big business to help him come to power). Porter/Parker is only concerned with getting back the money he was cheated from; since Val/Mal gave his stolen share to The Outfit, Porter/Parker wants them to give it back to him…and he’ll kill anyone who stands in his way.

Naturally, The Outfit doesn’t want to part with $70,000, so their top brass refuse to give Porter ‘his money.’ This refusal is similar to how the Western imperialist powers didn’t want to cede such territory as Poland to Nazi Germany, who wanted their piece of the pie…hence the Nazi invasion of Poland started the inter-imperialist WWII.

Remember that what our protagonist wants back is something he himself helped to steal…just as Nazi Germany ‘took back’ Poland, some of which (West Prussia and Silesia) was once part of the German Empire before it was lost at the end of WWI. This land was felt to have been ‘stolen’ from Germany, and the Nazis used all violence imaginable to get it back, as Porter does.

Like fascists, he couldn’t care less about the suffering of the poor; he just wants to bring himself out of pennilessness and back into wearing stylish suits as quickly as possible, like the petite bourgeoisie, who often side with fascism, especially if they lose power to the haute bourgeoisie (whom The Outfit could be seen to personify). At the beginning of the film, Porter steals paper money from a homeless man, justifying his theft (in the theatrical release, significantly) by noting that the homeless man is faking his lameness. There’s to be no sympathy for the destitute if they aren’t disabled, apparently. Those are neoliberal values for you.

The theatrical version changed the film to make Porter more likable, in spite of the fact that he’s hardly less sociopathic than Val…or your average fascist, for that matter. The scene of Porter fighting with and beating Lynn in her kitchen was removed, as was his killing, near the end of the film, of an Outfit soldier in cold blood in a truck for speaking to Rosie as if she were a mere whore.

But even without these scenes, Porter is still a nasty piece of work. He kicks Lynn’s apartment door in while her back is to it; she’s pushed into a wall, knocking the wind out of her. There’s all of his other, unfeeling violence, all just to get $70,000, which keeps being mistakenly thought to be $130,000. The very tagline of the theatrical release is “get ready to root for the bad guy.”

The crucial difference to be found between the theatrical release and the director’s cut is that the latter presents a dark, gritty world that is so harsh that one cannot watch it without thinking there’s something unacceptably wrong with it…it’s implicitly a social critique…whereas the former–with its more sympathetic Porter–makes his violence seem ‘hip.’ It’s significant that this glamourizing of sociopathic Porter should be in a film from the late 1990s, by which time the replacement of welfare capitalism with the neoliberal ‘free market’ variety had been firmly established.

You see, Porter demonstrates a kind of ‘triumph of the will’ that we’ve already seen in Conan the Barbarian. There’s a message advocating an acceptance of this kind of colder- and colder-blooded competition that has insidiously crept into otherwise mainstream liberal Hollywood movies, implicitly encouraging viewers to adopt the same unfeeling attitude.

First, we make it ‘cool’ and ‘badass’ to show a macho man killing and killing to get what he wants–in this case, seventy grand. Then, we make it hip to use racial slurs, as Tarantino did, and as we hear Val doing, calling the Chinese mafia “chows” and “fuckin’ slants!” All we need is for economic times to be hard–symbolically expressed in scruffy, penniless Porter itching to get his $70,000 at the film’s beginning–while one never challenges the capitalist system that caused these problems, of course, and the stage is set for fascist violence to come in.

After ripping off the homeless guy, Porter surveys the busy sidewalks to find a man who looks similar enough to him for a photo ID he can fake as being of himself. He finds a suitable guy, bumps into him and apologizes, brushing his suit to distract him while pickpocketing his wallet. As we can see, the theatrical release glamourizes a thief and killer, ruthlessly stopping at nothing to get ‘his’ money, whereas the director’s cut presents him as such not to make him seem ‘cool,’ but as an implicit social commentary, a dark one, meant to raise eyebrows.

Just before the wife-beating, Lynn tells Porter that Val has arranged to pay her rent, just as in the novel, Mal does this for her in return for a sexual relationship with her. Resnick has stolen far more than just money from our prickly protagonist.

In the film, a far better motive is given to Lynn to double-cross and kill Porter than is given in the novel: she thinks he has been having an affair with Rosie (which he claims happened before he met Lynn). In the novel, Mal threatens to kill her if she doesn’t shoot Parker…because he’s too much of a coward to do his dirty work himself.

Val, even more overtly violent than Porter, enjoys beating women–prostitutes in particular, suggesting a…shall we say, Joy Division mentality about them?–and has a racist attitude, at least towards Asians. His favorite prostitute is the S-and-M-leaning Pearl (Liu), who is linked with the Chinese mafia, and with whom he trades punches. One is reminded of Freud‘s comment: “A sadist is always at the same time a masochist.” Val utterly personifies fascism.

As I mentioned above, he stole Porter’s cut to buy his way back into The Outfit, which as I also mentioned above, represents capitalism in its more presentable form. There are different levels of viciousness in capitalism. When economic times are good, capitalism can pretend to be democratic; when they’re bad, the democratic mask falls off, and the ugly, violent face of fascism shows itself.

Val represents the kind of fascist who wants to hide in, and get the benefits of, capitalism’s respectability in the form of The Outfit. Porter, however, represents the kind of fascist who sees through the phony masquerade of The Outfit and the capitalism it represents, so he’d rather work outside of it, even butting heads with it, if necessary.

A middle-man between Val and Lynn’s seller of drugs is Arthur Stegman (Paymer), who also owns a taxicab operation (in the novel, the Rockaway Car Rental). As with the ‘legitimacy’ of The Outfit, Stegman’s cab business is the respectable one he, as a dealer of drugs like the heroin Lynn has ODed on, hides behind (in the novel, she kills herself by ODing on sleeping pills).

The point I’m trying to make–about the outer mask of respectability we have in capitalism (The Outfit, Stegman’s cab company) vs. the naked aggression of fascism as personified in Porter and Val–is that we shouldn’t have any illusions about the former as being somehow contrasted against the latter. To many of you readers, the point may be too obvious to need to be said; but remember that, as of my writing of this article, millions of Americans are voting for Harris or Trump, fully believing that who they’re voting for are acting in their interests.

Recall that quote by Frank Zappa–who was no supporter of socialism, yet nonetheless had no illusions about the American political and economic system he lived in–about how the illusion of freedom will last only as long as it remains profitable to do so. Once that illusion is too expensive to maintain (as it has been for several decades now), it will be removed, and we will see the naked reality of our hierarchical system based on money and power, and given expression in the form of fascism.

When the comfortable life of liberals is safe and intact, they can pretend to be magnanimous and gracious. When their class privileges are in any way threatened, though, they show their true, violent colours. Val, in the comfort and discreetness of his Outfit hotel room, can hide his sadism with Pearl. When he’s been told by Stegman at a restaurant that Porter is alive and well and presumably wants to kill Val, he shows how nasty he’s capable of being right out in public, right out in the open.

He’s speaking out loud at his table, with no regard for the other patrons. He speaks of having Porter killed for sure, again, loud enough for everyone to hear and not caring at all about it. He even threatens another customer, walking right up to his table, for merely looking at him.

When Val goes to see Carter (Devane), a superior to him in The Outfit, he’s all deferential, because of course he has to be. He’s hoping for help from Carter, but now that Carter’s class interests are also being compromised (as are those of The Outfit in general) by Porter’s visit to Val’s room the night before, Carter not only won’t help Val at all with doing away with Porter, he also wants Val to move out of the hotel, not coming back until he’s removed Porter all by himself (the same thing happens to Mal in the novel). The liberal in Carter has shown his true colours, too. There is to be no more “unpleasantness” from Porter at the hotel.

In the director’s cut, Val is standing outside The Outfit building, angry about having been cut loose from them. He shouts that to do something right, one must do it oneself; then, facing and gesturing to the two US flags by the front doors of the building, he shouts, “It’s the American way!”

Once again, this moment seems to demonstrate Helgeland’s original intentions for Payback, the implied critique of capitalism. When you’re in a bad situation as Val is, those in power won’t help you. You have to deal with the problem yourself–no government handouts, for that would be ‘vile socialism.’ Val is so brainwashed by American capitalist ideology, though, that he won’t even admit that the system is screwing him, knowing full well how screwed by it he is.

After all, it’s the American way. Long live the free market!

He has a racist attitude towards the Chinese (and presumably by extension, towards Asians in general), but this doesn’t mean he won’t enlist their help in killing Porter for him. It’s just as when the Nazis, though regarding the Japanese as racially inferior to them, nonetheless were content to have them in the Axis to keep the Americans occupied during WWII. Politics makes strange bedfellows, and Val has to make do with what little he has.

Though he helped Porter rip off the Chinese mafia, he’s enough of a snake to blame the entire robbery on Porter in order to motivate them to kill him and have their satisfaction in him alone. Unfortunately for Val, though, those two cops intervene just in time to scare the Chinese mafia away.

Now, Detectives Leary and Hicks are thoroughly corrupt, willing to be bought off by Stegman for selling heroin, as well as to save Porter from being charged with the killing of Lynn, etc. (i.e., by having Porter give them the $70,000); but that doesn’t mean they’ll let Val and the Chinese mafia finish off Porter after running into him with their car.

You see, Leary and Hicks represent the kind of capitalism in which the government intervenes, as opposed to the theoretical ‘free market’ capitalism as represented in the lawless Chinese mafia and The Outfit. Just as these two cops will extort money from Porter or Stegman, the state will gladly take cash gifts from capitalists, be they liberal, moderately conservative, or fascist in ideology, in exchange for government protection. Only right-wing libertarians and their extreme, deluded version–‘anarcho’- capitalists–entertain the fantasy that the state and the market are mutually exclusive, and that an unholy alliance between the two cannot be ‘true’ capitalism, but is ‘corporatism’ instead.

Leary and Hicks are a rewrite of cops in the novel who, investigating a shop-owner named Delgardo for moving marijuana from Canada into the States, suspect that Parker is in on the drug-dealing, too (Part III, Chapter 1). In the, to be frank, rather anti-climactic ending of the novel, Parker manages to get his money with minimal difficulty, as opposed to the bloody injuries Porter sustains in both the theatrical release and the director’s cut.

The cops in the novel, however, being incorruptible types compared to Leary and Hicks, finger Porter for helping Delgardo to move the marijuana into the country (Part IV, Chapter 4), and while he manages to get away from the cops, he flees with the wrong baggage, one with clothes rather than the one with the money. The novel ends with him, having enlisted the aid of three men, ripping off The Outfit again, but for a smaller sum of money.

While Parker kicks the asses of the cops in order to escape them in the novel, in the film, Porter plans to frame Hicks and Leary for his killing of Val; he does so by stealing Hicks’s badge, tricking Leary into getting his fingerprints all over the pistol he’s used to put a bullet in Val’s head, and putting Hicks’s badge in the hand of Val’s corpse.

In the novel, Parker needs Rose only to get an address so he can find Mal. In the film, Porter does more than that with her: he revives a relationship with Rosie, now that Lynn is dead. When killing Val, after learning that he needs to contact Carter and Fairfax (Coburn) about getting his money, he saves her from a brutal rape in her apartment. (In the director’s cut, he arrives too late, unfortunately, to stop Val from shooting and killing her dog.)

When Porter goes to Carter’s office, we come to the greatest divergence between the theatrical release and the director’s cut: the identity of the film’s central villain–respectively, Mr. Bronson (Kristofferson) and Ms. Bronson (Kellerman, in voice-over). Since we only hear her voice and never see her, this lends her a fascinating aura of mystery: she’s like a vengeful mother goddess after Porter has shot Carter.

Though I tend to prefer the soundtrack of the theatrical release, with the five-note, chromatic sax ostinato of its main title, I must say that I prefer the darker, more ambiguous ending of Helgeland’s version to the crowd-pleasing, raised-stakes version with Kristofferson, as superficially thrilling as it is. Hence, I’ll deal with the director’s cut ending.

Having not only a woman as the head of the mafia Outfit, but also a woman who surprises and shoots Porter at the train station, the director’s cut ending defies the stereotype of the ‘innocent woman’ vs. the necessarily male villain. This ending, though closer to the novel version (i.e., the payoff happens at a subway station–Part IV, towards the end of Chapter 3), also improves on its disappointingly anti-climactic denouement.

Helgeland’s ending can also be seen to reflect the relationship between fascism (as personified in cold-blooded killer Porter and sadistic Val) and the mainstream imperial ruling class (The Outfit). As Carter has observed, the sadism of Val “comes in handy,” but anyone…anyone…who causes trouble for The Outfit must be removed–either kicked out of the hotel (Val), or killed (Porter).

Similarly, the ruling class has always found fascists to be useful in beating the working class into submission; hence, for example, when Hitler was allowed to take the Sudetenland and encouraged to go east and invade the USSR. When he and Mussolini started to move in on such territory as that of the British Empire, though, they were making themselves into troublemakers of a sort that Porter could be seen to represent, with his fascist-like bent towards violence.

Hence, the violent, he-who-lives-by-the-bullet-shall…die?…by-the-bullet, fate of Porter is comparable to the crushing defeat of Hitler and Mussolini by the end of WWII. The two dictators died…as Porter just might die…but their fascist legacy lived on, through Operations Paperclip and NATO-backed Gladio, Western support of Ukrainian Nazi sympathizers to this day, etc.–as Porter just might survive.