Category: Fiction

Originality, History, and Twee Cliché

Mark Davis1 Comment

The American composer John Adams recently complained during a stay-at-home streaming interview from his composing shack on California’s Lost Coast that Baroque composers had it easy. Their compositions had to conform to about four patterns. But for a modern composer every single piece has to be an original invention. It is daunting, intellectually and emotionally. I’ve noticed this in my own search for new voices in writing, whether my own or those of others.

I’ve been an enthusiast in the past, from the crystalline inward revelations of Goethe in translation to the angry unreliable narrators of 90s transgressive fiction. I reveled in Nabokov’s multilingual estrangement and in Pynchon’s anachronistic dialect in Mason & Dixon. In essays there are the hollowed-out abstractions that form an evocative background in writing about art and architecture, the verbose polysyllabic scrums of political writers at the fringes of liberalism and conservatism who are trying to trace out a living intellectual history, and even the conceptual ambiguity of Continental Philosophy that seems to purposefully undermine its own analytical efforts at clarification.

Martin Amis, in his collection of essays, The Rub of Time, has one central message: don’t do cliché. His second message is don’t write memoirs because they are just crude weapons for attacking your historical enemies, from family to critics. Yet there is a feeling, in retrospect, that the reverse-time narration of Time’s Arrow or the end-reveal of London Fields are a bit gimmicky. The writing is more accessible than a Pynchon, but the mechanics are more akin to short stories from 60s sci-fi, just labored at with greater literary travail.

So, yes, I’ve been an enthusiast in the past but am a critic now.… Read the rest

Tusker Long

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I’m now well into my technically-challenging new novel, Tusker Long, and so it’s time to produce some concept art. Tusker Long combines historical essays, traditional narrative, quasi-scientific analysis, and epic poetry to convey the story of a civilization not unlike what our own might become were we grafted and merged with animals. Central to the novel is a spiritual system that revolves around ancestor worship, bestiaries, and transmogrification. Some art may help conjure up the feeling.

 

 

 … Read the rest

A Pause in Attention

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I routinely take a pause in what I am doing to reflect on my goals and what I’ve learned. I’m sure you do too. I had been listening to the recorded works of Jean Sibelius and Carl Nielsen, but am now on to Sir Edward Elgar and Josef Suk. Billie Eilish and Vampire Weekend didn’t last long. I gave up on my deep learning startup to pursue another, less abstract technology. I revamped this site. I put trail running on pause and have been lifting weights more. I shifted writing efforts to a new series centered on manipulating animal physiologies for war and espionage.

These pauses feel like taking an expansive stretch after sitting still for a long period; a reset of the mental apparatus that repositions the mind for a new phase. For me, one take away from recent events, up to and including the great pause of the coronavirus pandemic, is a reconsideration of the amount of silly and pointless content we absorb. Just a few examples: The drama of Twitter feuds among the glitterati and the political class, cancel culture, and shaming. The endless technology, photography, audiophile, fashion, and food reporting and communal commenting that serves to channel our engagement with products and services. Even the lightweight philosophizing that goes with critiques of tradition or society has the same basic set of drivers.

What’s shared among them is the desire for attention, an intellectual posturing to attract and maintain the gaze of others. But it does have a counterpoint, I believe, in a grounding in facts, reason, and a careful attention to novelty. The latter may be a bit hard to pin down, though. It is easy to mistake randomness or chaos for novelty.… Read the rest

Against Superheroes, Unredacted

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NOTE: The following is the unredacted first chapter of Against Superheroes, reported here for completeness of the historical record. Footnotes as per the original.

Z3 begins with a fragment from Sinister’s earliest recollections of the initial transformation:

The fear began with the realization that my right arm was becoming unusually heavy. The weight of the bracelet had not changed dramatically, but it seemed that my arm was thickening and I feared I would lower my arm and the combined artifact would slip off, risking possible damage on the tile floor, and so I reflexively swung my left arm to stabilize my wrist. The blank, formless face of the figure was less tarnished than the rest and the dim bathroom light dancing across the visage gave it a strangely animated swirling quality. Soon the weight in my arm moved through my shoulders and into my neck. I staggered and dropped to my knees.

All Z collectives know this passage, but we disagree with Z2’s reading in Peregrinations of Mythic Specialness1 that the inclusion of the specific details concerning the type of light amongst the picturesque imagery in the passage is a deliberate effort on the part of later redactors to try to concretize a mythic passage. It is equally possible to simply conclude that the author was not concerned with the overall flow of the writing but instead intended to convey facts while capturing aspects of his internal state.

Thus, Z3 opens with the strongest hypothesis to date concerning the historicity of Sinister: we believe the evidence supports the conclusion that such a being did in fact exist and that his narrative connections to certain technologies similar to those present among the Collectives were an accurate portrayal of events that transpired, or at least rose to the greatest level of accuracy he could achieve.… Read the rest

¡Reconquista!

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¡Reconquista! lives! Though with fewer exclamation points, much less signo de apertura de exclamación! Ahem. Here’s a preview:

Herb Malconia has a dog problem that goes back generations. The rabid beast chained to his shed is the incarnation of his grandfather. Or so says the local seer in the hamlet that straddles the border with Mexico. Once men raided into Texas and his great-grandmother bore a child from the border ravishment. There is an antidote to the dog curse, but it involves hijacking surveillance drones, avenging raids into Mexico, trapping bats by moonlight, and stealing the possessed cowboy hat of an up-and-coming politician.

In ¡Reconquista!, a farce and satire of today’s America, the country is polarized by identity politics, conspiracy theories, the opioid crisis, and a surly impotence in the face of social change. A host of characters entwine in subplots and vignettes that build toward a dark climax. The reader meets Maria de la Santa Ana Cuellar Ramirez de los Trinidad Martyr Remedios Sanchez, PhD, a Mexican academic elitist (and Herb’s distant relation) who rises to colonel in a drug cartel that has become a vanity project for luchadores and narcocorridos celebrating the cartel’s leader, El Chacal. There is Cleo, aggressively queer and predatory in pursuing love. Juicy is trying to reclaim his Muslim heritage that was forced underground and to the New World in fifteenth century Iberia. A relentless FBI agent hounds and ultimately kills the wrong man, blinded by conspiracy-fueled biases. A war party of constipated white supremacists bogs down in a muddy arroyo while staging a raid into Mexico. A political boss is luridly sexist and racist while thriving on folksy revisionism in a divided America.

… Read the rest

Happy 2019!

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And to start off the New Year, I’m experimenting with Instagram. Here are a few Sedona images:

[wdi_feed id=”1″]

Meanwhile, here are my current projects for 2019:

Quintessence of Rust (QOR): Post-apocalyptic and post-cyberpunk novel series set in a future world devastated by climate change. Begun in 2018, I expect to complete the first book by summer 2019. Here’s a sample:

The jungle is so overwhelmingly alive some days that the air is a vibrating green shroud. The vines strangle up through the canopy trees towards a wan shimmer. The heat becomes toxic where the gray skies break through and the violet and rust of the fungal mounds heap like domes. A low drone warns of bloodsucking swarms of gigantic flies, startling the naked rodents out along paths and down through root mazes into protective huddles in the cooling mud, while the women stoke smudge fires and call the painted children close. And then the sound passes, and the clucks and snorts begin again, at first with hesitancy against the silence of the moist envelop, then more, and then with greater intensity, until the music of the day is restored. The hunters return by lunch to await the afternoon rains that slide and drop in pachinko-ball rivulets through the thousand feet of piled and layered life.

Fifty feet up, where the tree splits its ancient trunk into three equal parts, atop the accumulated detritus of hundreds of years that became yet another pad of spongy jungle, the high apartments begin. Layer upon layer of wooden hovels, connected by ropes woven from vine fibers, wedged by pins and slotted bamboo, build like a rectilinear wasp nest, splitting off and then recoupling higher still, for two hundred feet more.

… Read the rest

Tomorrow’s Prologue (or, On the Quantum Consciousness of Cows)

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Tomorrow’s Prologue is my 2017 entry to the X Prize science fiction contest, Seat 14C. The set-up is simple: a plane disappears during arrival to SFO and then reappears 20 years later. From the perspective of seat 14C, tell a story…

Tendrils of clouds reached up into the cold dark of the Aleutian night. My noise-canceling headphones turned the ubiquitous roar of the aircraft into a chronic background hiss, a tinnitus intruding on the still life of snowy islands nestled below us. I turned on my LED lamp and pulled the device from my carry-on bag, setting it on my side table. It was inadvertently beautiful; every edge and cone of the small machine, from the milled aluminum topped by circlets of palladium to the glowing organic band near its base, were designed for a specific purpose by my laboratory in Tokyo. If any consideration of aesthetics found their way into the design, it was Kinji-san ad-libbing on the functionality. It had a dual back there, too, one that shared a portion of entangled photons that had been separated from one another at birth. I connected a USB-C cable to my laptop and ran a brief diagnostic. It began to radiate cold. All systems were within operating specs, so I tried Shor’s algorithm, transferring the model for a thousand-digit factorization to the machine. A flight attendant noiselessly brushed past me, prepping for breakfast service. The initial run seemed to work so I pulled up the quantum consciousness simulator that I had been developing and gave it a go. I knew it was incomplete, but I had to debug it eventually.

There was a strange popping sensation and flash, not like ears under altitude change, but like the whole plane had shuddered for a brief moment.… Read the rest

Recursive Diktats

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Here is an experiment in poetry that is completely self-contained, encoded as a URL using an Ex-Googler’s itty.bitty website that composes HTML or ASCII content into a URL fragment using Lempel-Ziv-Welch (LZW) compression. Building a chain of self-contained references is not for the faint of heart, but basically involves back-tracking from the end. Each compressed HTML fragment is then embedded in the previous stanza, and so forth.

And the topic is, as it must be, language itself.

Here’s the raw, self-contained URL as a link, too:

https://itty.bitty.site/#/?XQAAAAIjBQAAAAAAAAAQDwmIAcJ7S/e0HRDveaJ/CvZuJSlLjEjE1GCJ5j7pW5xk6EiSIVmcubsQXjfOVGIIKFzXDux135EACaYtu/6Wm88vL+l57/7B3r54PHtC+oxIoKzEnDeFuR5WPk+F1tJ+fLgTg7mDFJJu+ndFIKrpSM9Y5RR4z26Yp6fFl1iYbC7x3ISSwr2H164+jV78LRUkR5b/Ze7vjXocXWNezEtToEjqPw2zQBNFZZ5SYia4pnpJjWzhjsatDnKWaFNSbTXlWbAxalkEYCiuNCQXJJd/YYL15JWi1yo0S+qK/DVCJGZKJ63Tjdye2dkscEwM9fto81/n4CrD8QDUuDPUAhQK2qDsTiRACBsW5F56ywr5uKpFBKdsmYhdVhBU/gD6srw9kGyCm0DT90/SsEA/tl+zzKtpS2xYzecZ9Mxj7moub+q8fdQo+WjKkpdi+FYk9IH/csGNSP18JkgNJlYwHSyQ9wwD3AYqmsyh2qMNj31q393baDGyZT2GfmCjJ9KD8bHtcXIQdGldR+60kPLprZvVu4maaPHUwyH7D/vZLnLzdp4DzusDFHSjOCZbzopEOrQJLYR9p+plVGOBtEXkxEVNlskO83kOByhVtD3c2zIrHocT4KL7kIplMSpEyFAW3OS8copbz7sLk2ZJAc/P2VIld9efw/i89RjMWPSKGlC0iKM7lv91OrBG535QqvipYv75C+NZcazVSYWZJiALmJ1oNTGYQE/l1Rbt6nqhX30YWDnrnflGFXAXTGd2WTY6kCCUtXKApyh+Go96ZAN3bnq4zCyH5bddVULMYpuFAUQsvlQo2usjDuzu7iba5gFV6bD+LIBL+L7o6aO+AcHfu38yAPsHJWGyNcmqsCAjqvxCRVPhrRk4HYb9sELoPkLU1/3LTVZyIXY/7ktMmLXX83ad7xxc7Vk3uv8Yw7BGDvL1u04RF6EkcGt77nMA9AnUYil2AK53vZzCT+SecWvhwovB7siCijT2viqsj1q9DqEz5mBLajt7HmwXS+d6w6YLHG7zSsoZn6Vo9pUtNJGriyQ9STYRzBUPBWCnv21YZ4vTQ84+BVCfpbTsegpBISY4zki5p6yF4XVhB7WVkaTFwzGJB/lX2/+ATPJYgZRhMDZeEVCGLfSY2qAk5u1eGCpXhZLS/frlUDYyoeNjnC/YeFsPAIkezdEu2tNi0vtZyCtABMfTF4XvKcT1PcbwzV9oPIq1m6fF+1rA9TrS2iyqXdjZ902RX3v3vz6PCn0xNmuqXbu/vx50++yyRLKnRYb70IT3Y6ID2em/dAHr+s3xZw5GtAqFsbojqjQnuw5TLG1PqEvX4lBeqwbjm+eXBANzFR3BDpOwC8Fpc3tt2qmTA3F2ivePu2QYNrEHkrsHO4kqd0rDCqKSml44R27NQjOaeUMnmkMAE/jjExfoAP466EA=

And here is the same as a QR Code:

… Read the rest