A lot has happened ever since the completion of my collection work "Individuation Unto Nothing". Not much in the sense of art-progression that is, unfortunately, but rather in other areas of life. These mundane changes in one's existence could act as an easy excuse for not focusing on The Work, but I will not go for such self-deceit this time, as the blame - as always - lies in one's own conscience. Procrastination is the prime vice of the lazy artist, and I am no expection. However, not all this time has been spent in pointless idleness, for in the past few months it has become ever more evident that something is missing in the equation of mediation; that is, the means of actualization.
What do I mean by this? Well, simply put, choosing the field of focus for mediation. As you may be aware, I started this experimentative journey by writing short stories in 2018, and this way had remained the sole one until the autumn of 2019, when I picked up the drawing pen for the first time. Not expecting much, but having little to lose (similar as to when starting writing), it soon became apparent that this new way of mediating inner images might yield unexpected results in the future. Not at the moment, of course, as I lack technical skill, but the seed of authenticity was there,... as it still is, and - dare I say - marginally enhanced with the aid of digital tinkering and accumulation of completed pieces. While these crude drawings are still far from perfect, and quite far still even from my skills as a writer, this new course has proved worthwhile enough to be pursued - and so, on this road I still remain, as of writing this article, and I'm currently balancing my efforts concerning writing and drawing, perhaps interest steering little more into the world of visual arts. What of the leftmost portion of the picture above there, then? A screenshot of my newest venture into the art of game-making, refreshing memories of programming (with a simple visual-style engine called "Quest"), taking a shot at designing an interactive story with slight gaming elements. The attempt proved a successful one, even if not from the audience's point of view, but of my own, and completing a project, even a small one as this, always brings forth a welcome breeze of satisfaction. Nevertheless of my search for the perfect medium for expressing inner images, a lingering uncertainty remains. While I know these attempts haven't been entirely unfruitful, they remain lackluster, malformed, scewed and distorted, limited by such a number of factors that no self-respecting artist dares even name, let alone list. Thus, having seen that perfection can never be attained, what is the point of even trying? I do not know, but I do know that there is no alternative - and I also know that one more venue is still to be explored; that which some call the purest form of representing the world of the subjective; music.
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The collection work of "Individuation Unto Nothing" is now, as of 18/10/2020, completed.
Ever since I started noticing that the loosely-connected short stories were growing in number, I've played with the idea of bringing them together some manner, such that these interconnections could be made clearer; into a single, solid novel. When going through the older stories - majority of them in the "shadow" side - it became apparent that a lot of editing was needed in order to get the quality up to present standards. While these older stories will always remain somewhat crude, in technical terms, they still radiated raw authenticity, and thus, I hope that with the additional polishing they make at least moderately pleasant reading for the average reader. So, as said, the first half of the book consists of the Shadow - for those familiar with jungian terms - and many may have noticed that the title itself was taken from the jungian concept of individuation... leading into nothing. While the original idea, at first, was to explore the elusive "truth of being" (of which I've written about in previous posts), it slowly became apparent that there was more in these works, something churning in the backstage when exploring the personal unconscious and trying to uncover secrets of the very existence itself. It was no wonder, then, that after encountering a particularly strange story concerning a beautiful - albeit mournful - lady standing lone in a ballroom, staring out into darkness through a grand iron window, I had to take a step back and turn further into self-introspection; and therein the vast subjective side of things truly opened up... and with it, the whole right side of the book, what was to be called fragments of the anima. The readers may find this part of the book somewhat unorthodox, as things turn more into historical settings and gothic aesthetic; dark pessimisim turning into melancholic mystique, yet it was necessary in order to remain in the path of authenticity - the very thing that has "steered the pen" from the start. Ultimately there is not that much deviation though, for the subjective side had already bled into the later Shadow-side stories as well, influencing both the style and the content, which is most evident in stories such as "The Arrival of Doctor Kross" and "Dirge for the Fading Playground". Enough about the content, now, as one might ask; where can I find this recently-completed book? At the moment of writing, nowhere. As most of you may be aware, finding a publisher these days is no easy task, especially for someone lacking in contacts and social presence. One can always send random emails to agencies, hoping for a reply, but most likely it will all get drowned out in the sea of messages these large houses receive every day... and even then, if anyone happens to notice, they will most likely take a glance or two (if one is lucky) and then deem the text either technically inept, plain foolish, or impossible to market for the wider audience. Or all the above. Nevertheless, when there's not much else to do in life than write, there is no other option - barring the obvious, of course, but naturally this last option is best left in the indefinite reserve. As discussed in the previous post exploring the art of sublimation, attention was brought into the value in experimentation-in-itself. The fledgling artists, lacking skill, are more prone to - or perhaps forced to - wild experimentation, while in search of new types of tools & methods. This, however, usually results in lackluster products in the end, or some mediocre representations of them thereof... but occasionally a sparkling gem might be produced. As I stated previously, I've never experienced such gems myself, but now, having been attempting my own "new methods and tools" for some time, I feel like having come closer to depicting the intented experience.
Some of you may have noticed a subtle alteration within the art-gallery on this site - this is because all the works have gone through editing, something that I call "shadowing overhauls"; as images intenting to instil interest, especially of the uncanny kind, are meant to be dark, something that was always lacking in the original pencil drawings (no matter how much I tried accentuating them). While trickery with natural lighting helps, it wasn't sufficient in bringing about the contrast needed, and now, with these new tools, I've gotten at least one step further towards expressing the originally intented vision. How close this vision is now, then, the avid reader might ask? Well. Considering visual arts is just one type of medium amongst the myriad of others, and that the subjective image is always impossible to fully bring forth into the objective world, I'm forced to say, sadly, not very close. Nevertheless, when one feels like having done progress, and can look back at the earlier attempts while noticing a distinct improvement, it can be stated that substantial distance has been covered. In the end, this is the fate of an artist, as we know - that even as the chasm is grand between the intented vision and the completed product, all one can do is to keep at it, to try bridging the gap with tireless effort... at least until the cold grave calls, ending short the already short life of a simple human being. A substantial amount of time has yet again passed wherein the lazy author got little actual work done. However, all is not lost, for some progress has been made on the upcoming anthology book of psychological horror stories, titled "Individuation Unto Nothing". This new work will mostly consist of already published stories, but now arranged into a semi-coherent structure with overarching thematical consistency. The book will include some new stories, and the already published ones have also gone through serious overhauls of polishing in editing.
Another point worth mentioning would be the new short story, that is unrelated for the main universe. This was originally posted for a lovecraftian competition which had a few pre-established rules given. As the story will inevitably go unnoticed in the competition, I shall be posting it here, on my own site, so those interested can give it a read. Hitting the sweet-spot of 8000 words (considered the upper limit for a "short" story), it is a well-paced slice-of-life type peek into the lives of survivors living in an underground bunker, attempting to make sense of a lovecraftian cataclysm where laws of physics have been erased in the wake of Gods from the stars. I shall keep this update brief, for now. New rambles concerning the human condition and intricacies of writing & art shall follow shortly, in a somewhat regular fashion - although I should caveat that with the fact that for me, the regular fashion of updating may vary from a few weeks to a few months. It is unfortunate, but such is the fate of a writer lacking in conscientiousness. Then again though, there's perhaps two or three individuals who follow this blog anyway. For those mystery people out there I do, nevertheless, apologize most sincerely. A few questions were raised earlier about an artist's level of skill in regards to mediating the intented vision. Every writer, painter, musician, etc. has to start somewhere, and the lack of skill will inevitably inpede the process of mediation - for no matter how clear the mental picture is, the words will fail, the brush will falter and the violin will stay off-tune. Thus the beginning steps will be frustrating, as the vision shines firm, but the skill is void... and so, many painstaking hours of practise will be needed before the pieces will even begin to approach their intented places in the grand picture, that nebulous image which would allow glimpses into this fabled "true vision".
It has been said - about the unmatured artists - that despite their lack of skill, even the seemingly failed attempts might be worth something for the audience, as these as-of-yet unskilled invidiuals are prone to wild experimentation. All art is experimentation, goes the famous saying, but in my experience the flailing amateurs have an extra dose of this 'artistic spirit' - and thus, amongst the piles of manure, a sparkling gem of authenticity could sometimes - albeit rarely - be found. I cannot say I have ever experienced such unexpected gems myself, in my path of mediating vision(s), but there are some examples that I consider higher in quality compared to others, when considering their early, unmatured nature. One such case is "Crawzinscky's Theory of Isolation", whose experimental cover art one can see at the beginning of this post. The aforementioned story was written shortly after the first (technically failed) novel was completed, hitting the sweet-spot of "far from perfected, yet free from the worst mistakes" -category. What of Sublimation and its relation to mediation then, the fragile triangle of authenticity-skill-knowledge? First, I think, it should be established what is meant by these terms. Sublimation needs not explanation for those well-versed in psychoanalytics. Mediation, in my own terminology, refers to the mediation of the inner image or vision, of which I have briefly talked about in the previous posts. Mediation is a tricky thing however, something akin to the act of carefully constructing an elaborate monument while lacking guidance, plans, or instructions of any kind. It's all up to the artist as to how construct their mental image, what tools to use, what medium to indulge in, and which days (or even which years of life) to dedicate in this gruelling process. What's made worse with this task, is the accumulation of knowledge and life-experience, which will inevitably change how the outcome will end up. People go through tumultuous periods in their lives all the time - most notably during youth - and so, if starting a grand quest of relaying some sublime inner vision early in age, something which may take years, the very artist himself will have changed so drastically during this time that the end result could be something entirely else than what the vision initially looked like. This, is what I refer to as authenticity altered by change, the change being both on the subjective (inner personality change, gain of knowledge) and objective (the very passage of time, altering of [living] location, and so on). If the artist tries to remain within the confines of his first authentic vision (which will warp along the waves of change, as we've discussed), then which one really is, ultimately, the "most" authentic vision? Will it be the initial one, as the artist struggles to remember the time of his past, or the current, changed one, and the artist is helpless to resist this passage of time, doomed to mediate the ever-changing image, offering snippets of this process with tenuous fragments, such as short stories, hasty drawings, or perhaps improvised musical pieces, produced at the heat of the moment? I do not know the answer to these questions. My own experiences, knowledge, and (hopefully) skill have all grown substantially as time has passed on. There's no going back, I feel, even as the initial themes remain the same. The unforgiving, uncaring universe will never fade into obscurity, that is made certain by life's consistent cruelty - and if one was in need of a reminder, there's never a shortage of multitude of horridness hidden just beneath the surface of everyday life. One just needs to quiet down and listen, and the nightmares will reveal themselves. Last autumn I did a brief blog-text titled "Thoughts on Horror," wherein I attempted mapping certain horror genres into a more-or-less coherent mindmap; the effectiveness, or "closeness" of various types of horror as to how they relate to the human experience. While on the surface level somewhat accurate, this description was left lacking in some aspects, mainly the juxtaposition of "Escapistic" vs. "Confrontational" nature of certain works... and so, in this graph I attempted rectifying some of that, mapping things in the aforementioned axiis with the additional "Disheartening" or "Pleasant" added as vertical.
This graph, like the earlier, is of course subjective, even though I think of it as containing a degree of objectivity. There are some notable 'disagreeable' examples such as Cormac MacCarthy's "The Road", of which I'm not quite sure where it would belong. While certainly disheartening at its nature and not "enjoyable" in the traditional sense, does it nevertheless remain in the realm of "escapism" or "confrontationism"? In the end I ended up placing it more into the escapist-category, mostly due to its bleak-but-somewhat-distanced post-apocalyptic future. Furthermore, I think that works such as "The Sunset Limited" by the same author are much more grounded, exploring the human condition in more a confrontational manner... and thus the distinction you see on the map. It should also be noted that this scale is not intented to convey a work's inner "quality", or at least the perceived nature of it; rather, it's meant to show the intention of the author - for example, the Twilight can hardly be considered a work of exceedingly high-quality, yet nevertheless the author's intention was that of "fantastical escapement for teenage girls with the aid of regurgitated horror tropes", and thus, it retains its place on the scale, quite accurately where I intented it, I think, firmly adjoined to the circle of blandness, yet leaning on escapism & questionably enjoyable fantasy. Nonwithstanding this apparent discrepancy of genreical confusion, Twilight is useful as an example for another reason as well; namely pointing out how loosely defined horror is in the contemporary society. In all fairness though, rarely anyone considers Twilight as "horror", per se... but at the worst of situations a conversation might ensue between two horror enthusiatists, wherein both express their infatuation to "The Horror Genre", only to realize that the other person is referring to the Ligottian nightmare... and the other Twilight's boy-vampires. The very least a substantial gulf stands between those who remain firmly in the mainstream realm and the types of cosmic horror fans. The "normal folk" will have difficulties perceiving, let alone understanding, the disheartening side of the genre due to its very confrontional, oftentimes truthful and off-putting nature. These normal folk will have, at most, heard of the "The Atmopsheric Fright" side of things, and perhaps enjoyed it to some degree, but will most likely shudder & shun away after hearing of the "Horrific Truth" if openly and honestly presented to them in all its straightforwardness. It is well-known that an author's mental state will invariably alter the image that gets conveyed through art. The "True Image" is impossible to convey with perfect accuracy, even if nonwithstanding one's technical skill, for the very human condition always carries a degree of subjectivity. In addition to the inescacable core facts, there are more mundane obstacles, as well, in the way of conveying - even as simple as not having eaten properly for the day might subtly alter the idea or the image, turning it more pessimistic with the aid of poor mood. In short, as the artist always remains the sole 'conveyor' or 'moderator' of his- or herself's thoughts, one simply has to content with the fact that the image will never be perfect thanks to general human error. Things would just be easier if the whole business of art-conveying could be delegated to machines, but sadly that day is yet to come.
In any case, a lesser-discussed (or at least I feel so) topic is the conveying of character's own views of themselves. This matters little in the visual arts - although some may disagree, for it is said that behind every painting there's a story - but nevertheless it's all the more relevant in storytelling. Every author worth his salt knows to know their characters (or the artist's own inner personalities in some cases) as thoroughly as possible, for only this way authenticity - or believability in more common terms - can be reached. If one knows the characters, then they will know their motivations, hopes & dreams, and when presented with differing situations little additional thought is necessary, as simply observing the character's actions is enough, and so, writing it all down becomes a formality. So all that aside, what is this about "character's own views of themselves"? Well, if one has come to understand the fact that everyone's views of themselves are ultimately subjective (like Crawzinscky famously came to realize in "The Essence of Isolation"), then the character's selves are, as well, equally fleeting & tenuous. We might not even need to go that deep in order to ponder, for example, that if Sophia was to paint a portrait of herself - assuming for a second her technique was perfect - would this "image" be the objective truth of things? Obviously not, but what else there is to be projected for the audience? What would be an "objective truth" of her image? A photograph, sure, but considering it is difficult to take a picture (purely objective representation of a physical thing) from a fictional universe... the thought is akin to taking a picture of an idea. It would be like an "objective" image of mathematics - certainly one can represent certain numerical truths as numbers, such as 2+2=4... but can one take a picture of the concept of a number? No doubt much has been written about the relation of an artist and his works, of how the initial image or 'vision' is actually conveyed via the chosen medium, be it visuals, music, writing, poetry, or so on. While I've struggled with the topic myself a little, namely in writing when juggling between gothic styles and the more conventional approaches, it was only recently, when starting to learn drawing, that the thought concerning the lack of technical skill begun to harass the mind - in other words, does one's lack in skill inhibit the expression of his 'true vision'?
At first the answer seems obvious - a clear "yes", for if one can merely draw stick-figures in stead of beautiful gothic ladies, then very little of the original intention gets conveyed. However, can there be any point when one's skill with the pen gets too good? Will the minutiae detailing cloud the unique touch that a less-skilled artist might have? Again the answer seems somewhat obvious - a stout "no", for said details will surely only aid giving flesh to the tiniest hazed details that would otherwise be left uncertain, or perhaps altogether out of the picture. Despite coming to know & understand all this, I've begun to notice some... benefits - although of questionable kind - when it comes to lacking finer technical skill. While all the earliest attempts have been rather pitiful and unquestionably worth nothing, now, when feeling a bit more confident with the pen, but yet still remaining firmly in the "amateur" -category, some new insights have revealed themselves... namely the "uncanny valley" that seems beneficial in what I've been meaning to convery with the dark, somber imagery of the two sisters of melancholy, Sophia & Deliria (who are familiar to the handful of you who've read the relevant stories). Of course, in the end, the judgement of the technical skill or lack thereof falls on the observer; as in, does he or she perceive these works of questionable art as "good" or not - do the slightly off-base faces and angles serve any discernable purpose in delivering the intented aesthetic of gloom and doom, or is it just plain poor artwork that distracts from the overall experience? The artist himself is, of course, in a poor position to answer this question, having the obfuscating cloud of self-doubt standing fast in front of him. While certain facts can be established after years of investigation into the subjcetive side, a lot will still remain uncertain. For the time being it might be beneficial to focus on the things that are already relatively firmly pinned into the stone, simply in order to get a bit more coherence into the mess that is the dreaded subjective side. Thus, in this post I aim to disregard Deliria and the most elusive figure of all, "the great unnamed mother" (of the two sisters), and lay out my thoughts concerning The Headkeeper and Sophia, whose relationship was explored in later parts of Solemnence.
For those who've read Solemnence, the first part was hopefully straightforward enough; a simple short story about a young baron meeting a mysterious lady in a ballroom party. As is usually the case within these stories, the narrative quickly escalates into the unexpected, and nothing is forevermore solid, as the revelation shatters all pre-established expectations into uncertain incoherence. This was the introduction to the semi-archetypical character of Sophia, and the whole topic of the Aesthetics of melancholy & the dreaded subjective side. The following part, while quite different in presentation, mimics this structure with the introduction into the trinity of Sophia, Deliria & The Headkeeper, giving room not only for the elusive figure of Deliria, but also the strained relationship of the whole surrounding "family" which, as becomes apparent, is not a real family at all, but rather a one man's lunatic attempt at achieving greatness & "true understanding" by any means necessary. In this tradic tale the consequences of such foolishness become apparent - as does the youthful spark of a gifted, late-teenage girl whose spirit roars into flames upon understanding the injustice and madness of it all. Perhaps a bit unexpectadly this transformation of the spirit has unforeseen consequences for the objective realm as well, and, as an ironic turn of fate, this (presumably) was what her tormentor was after all along. However, his celebration quickly turns into fear as he begins to understand that he has created something that even he cannot possibly handle, understanding the futility of it all even from beyond his veil of unending arrogance. The attempt at reconciliation with Sophia's new-found spirit will be examined in the upcoming Sophia's Theatre, a story that's been at works now for quite some time. As one would expect, the exact methods what would consist of trying to bring back something that's (for The Headkeeper) irrevocably lost are difficult to conjure forth, and so, much care must be taken in order to get things right, as Stephen King often famously warned all the "aspiring writers". What of The Headkeeper himself, one might ask? Does he realize the errors in his ways, or is he set in the path of arrogance and forever blinded by his (unarguably grand) understanding of natural sciences? Can tinkering & manipulating of the objective world bring something back from the subjective realm? Good guestion. In a way this wooing of a lost female spirit seems to have almost primordial, biological roots... However, in this particular case it is not based in the archetypical search for a mate in hopes of reproduction, but rather in the reconsiliation and redemption of one's mistakes - but no matter how thorough the methodicality of it all would be, it is the intent, the spirit beyond man's actions that will ultimately decide the outcome of his search for redemption... and as we all know, unfortunately enough, the old, disgruntled men are often too firmly stuck in their misguided ways of thinking. The forms in which the aesthetic side can manifest itself may only be descriped - even at the best of times - in lackluster terms such as elusive or fleeting, the most accurate of them all being, of course; subjective. Like emotion, as a concept itself, it is unique for every invidual, and even if shared commonalities can be agreed upon, the ultimate experience is forever locked within the subject him- or herself. Thus, when trying to capture these fleeting manifestations into concrete beings or things, the end result will inevitably be... vague, for the lack of a better term.
Such is the case, as afore-established, with the two main figures of the Whitend universe; Sophia & Deliria, the two unfortunate sisters of melancholy that are explored primarily in Solemnence. While minor characters retain aspects of this elusive phenomenon - predominantly Rebecca in various short-stories - it is only these two who have the sensibility required in order for the manifestation to truly blossom, ie. in order for their personalities to transcend the fictional realm, transforming into something else, both within the stories' confines and within the grander metaphysical scope at large. What, exactly, are these figures then? It is a good question, one that I personally am still figuring out. As is usually the case with these narratives that deal all in the realms of fiction, reality, and metafiction, discoveries can only be made by thorough investigation and examination of difficult topics. Furthermore, even if various philosophical works and doctrines may be available as aid for this process, ultimately the author (yours truly) will remain the sole witness of it all - an thus, the burden of responsibility of getting things right will forever remain on my shoulders. This is why I like to take my time, unrushing into difficult stories, stories that I know require a particularly lengthy in-depth investigation. It is all too human to err, all too easy to throw out things as they come without a semblance of second thought. While sometimes beneficial, this simple following of inner authenticity can quickly lead one into downward path from where retracing steps is both strenuous and time-consuming. So far I think I've managed avoiding all the most obvious pitfalls and moats of quicksand. Perennial Sophia was the first unexpected success - no matter if only for myself, seeing the gothic tone can be utilized and will be effective in uncovering deeper philosophical & psychological themes - and the following Gloom in the Mortuary of Melancholy proved further that this razor-sharp line of gothic tone can be made work in a contemporary settings as well. Thanks for this realization go, of course, for the great Thomas Ligotti, who is the unparalleled master of utilizing this prosal tone. If my pale mimickry can produce such results, it is no wonder that he has accumulated such praise in his career of weird, gothic-styled meta-horror fiction. Seeing that no matter how much I write on this topic, yet little of substance gets relayed in actuality, I will most likely do a follow-up post shortly, giving myself a few days of think as to how, exactly, this elusive topic of the "dreaded subjective side" could be made more sense for someone who has no idea (even if they've read the stories) of what's going on. |
A.K
Gothic fiction novelist Archives
July 2023
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