I’m currently taking part in a marketing survey, and one of their questions asked us to “Imagine you’re going to a party that’s being thrown by [A Company's Absurd Mascot]. Please write a paragraph describing the party.”

So, I thinks to meself, “Well, if’n that in’t a bit of a question.  Might as well give as I get.” Here’s a paragraph that reflects how seriously I take marketing:

Red drapes hang everywhere, as I enter the first room.  The giant lizard sort of freaks me out, but he’s polite, and he offers to take my coat.  I turn back to inspect the décor, and all I can see is red.  Each of the lights has a red shade on it, or a thin red cloth draped over the lamp.  The light softens the room, and makes it look like it’s getting farther away at an amazing speed.  To stop this sinking feeling of falling into a Red Abyss, I make my way past the gaggles and bevies of attractive women who are strewn about the place, out onto the back porch.  The lizard is back there, just chillin’ for all to see.  He reaches into the cooler at his knees and tosses me a Cold One.  There’s plenty of Punch in a vat in the red house, but I’m a man of simple tastes, as is our host, apparently.  I bum a cigarette from him, and we turn to gaze out over his expansive lawn.  I inhale deeply, and know that this is going to be a crazy night.

This is a rant near and dear to my heart, asI’ve been ranting about it since I was old enough to know that the difference between men and women is vastly greater than the difference between boys and girls.  As Becky recently put it, “[E]qual rights means, you know, equal.  Not the girls get to stomp all over the boys for a while.”

I went through my undergrad at San Francisco State University, the student culture of which is a geyser of semieducated liberalism.  I won’t start in on the Spartican Youth Organization for now, though, since this has more to do with reading 19th century feminist literature (The Yellow Wallpaper, if you’re interested) and being forced by good manners to endure statements about how all men oppress (but especially the white ones) in all ways all the time.  To be truthful, I don’t believe that her husband caused her insanity.  Under the misguidance of 18th century science, he was doing the best he could to restore his wife to health and happiness, helping her out of post-partim depression.

I could go on in this vein for a while (years of practice), but one thing I’ve learned about this argument is that it often times cannot be accepted coming from a man, especially when he becomes heated in the discussion.  To that end, I redirect you toward Jodi Kasten.

But the real answer to all of this is compromise.  Neither side is intrinsically better than the other.  Equality means, again, that everyone is treated the same.

One way to look at things is by examining the rights of citizenship.  As I’m a classicist, I turn to Roman Law to outline the rights of a citizen.  Food for thought.

I:the right to vote

II: the right to hold public office

III: the right to make legal contracts and own property

IV: the right to marry and to pass citizenship to offpsring

V: the right to sue and be sued in the court system

VI: the right to have a legal trial

VII: the right to appeal decisions from magistrates and lower court rulings

VIII: A citizen cannot be whipped or tortured, unless found guilty of treason.

IX: If found guilty of treason, and if sentenced to death, a citizen cannot be sentenced to die at the cross. (no torturous methods of putting legally sentenced citizens to death)

Continued

IV – Conclusion

In summation, the question of this work’s classification as either Romance or Magical Realism has been addressed.  The story contains elements of Romance, but the emotional element of the ending does not fall in line with the category’s norms.  Realism wins out against Romance, but an irreducible element of magic prevents this story from being simple Realism.  The Realism must be qualified as Magical.

It is worth noting that in no way do these definitions of Romance and Magical Realism conflict.  This story fit the criteria for Magical Realism far better than Romance, but not through anything mutually exclusive.  A work may possibly be both Romance and Magical Realism, if it is constructed carefully and the story ends satisfactorily.

If you’d like a copy of the footnotes, please email me.  I have no desire to get sued.

Bibliography

Frye, Northrop  The Secular Scripture: A Study of the Structure of Romance Cambridge, MA; Harvard UP 1976

Huston, Charle and David Finch Moon Knight Vol. 1: The Bottom, Marvel Publishing Inc., 2007

Huston, Charlie and Tomm Coker, Moon Knight, issue 13, Marvel Publishing, Inc. December 2007

Millet, Lydia  “From Comic Book to Literary Classic”. The Wall Street Journal February 27, 2009

Parkinson, Lois and Wendy B. Faris, ed. Magical Realism: Theory, History, Community, Duke University Press, 1995

Continued.

This is the point where I actually make an argument.

III – Difficulty in Definition

Despite the title of this section, I shall begin by examining Romance, the definition of which is more readily agreed upon by critics than that of Magical Realism.  I turn to Northrop Frye, who posits

“Romance in particular is, we say, ‘sensational’: it likes violent stimulus, and the sources of that stimulus soon become clear to the shuddering censor.  The central element of romance is a love story, and the exciting adventures are normally a foreplay leading up to a sexual union.”

The sensationalism – the appeal to the senses and passions, as opposed to reason – of Romance has led to its denouncement by the Arbiters of Taste throughout literary history.  If we naïvely take this statement and its connotative implications, then Moon Knight falls squarely into the category of Romance: Romance is low-brow; comics are low-brow; therefore A = C and Graphic Literature is Romance.  Of course, the fallacy here is that correlation does not point to causation.  Graffiti is also a low-brow form of art.  This means that Graffiti is also Romance, according to false understanding.  We must apply the elements and a proper definition of Romance to the work before pronouncing judgment.

“The central element of romance is a love story,” according to Frye.  Therefore, we ask, Is the central element of the plot of Moon Knight – either the ongoing title as a whole, or any of its smaller story arcs – love, or at least a sexual attraction?

In ancient works, especially epic poems, the first image of a story embodies the theme of the whole work.  Applying this idea, we see The Bottom open with Moon Knight intervening in a gang war.  The scene intensifies through each panel, setting a scene in a filthy section of New York, unwashed despite the rain, two rival gang members firing at each other from speeding cars, until a page-turn reveals the two-page title splash, depicting Moon Knight falling from his dirigible, lightning forking across the sky, and the only words (apart from the title) are Spector’s monologue-box, stating, “Someone has to do the fun stuff.”

After the conclusion of that scene, Moon Knight enters his dirigible – flown by Duchamp – and he makes the transition to Spector.  While this happens, Spector reflects, “No, being a part of a team was never for me.  But that doesn’t mean you have to go it alone.  That doesn’t mean you don’t have help.  Friends.  A home.  A church.  Love.”   The panels show Moon Knight boarding his dirigible, which is piloted by Duchamp, and with the last word, they reach a crescendo with an image of Spector in bed with Marlene Alraune, surrounded by red and pink heart-shaped pillows.

This introduction could have been built directly from Frye’s statements.  The adventure of crime-fighting is literally – for Spector, at least – foreplay.  He leads a life of violence in service to his god, and his reward for doing so is a beautiful woman.  Immediately, the reader sees that this story is concerned with violent adventure and the cause for these episodes is Spector’s desire for love.  This story fits the basic requirements for Romance, if Love and Adventure (or sex and violence, more negatively) are the only parameters.

As the reader continues into Chapter 3, he encounters a synopsis of Spector’s past, illustrating a litany of some common episodes in Romance, such as a mysterious birth (Spector’s first resurrection by Khonshu) or narrow escapes from death (many examples, including both of Spector’s resurrections).  To top it off, the whole scene revolves around the theme of recognition of the hero’s true identity.  Through this chapter, a character known as the Profile explains Spector’s past, his identities, and what can be understood of his motivations.  So far, everything seems to fit nicely into the genre of Romance.

The aims and episodes of the story are not the sole determinants of Romance.  Frye explains,

“Most romances end happily, with a return to the state of identity, and begin with a departure from it.  Even in the most realistic stories there is usually some trace of a plunge downward at the beginning and a bounce upward at the end.”

Both a downward plunge and an upward swing play out in The Bottom.  Even this title points to something of a downward trend.  After the exciting and sexually charged beginning, the first chapter ends with the revelation that the days of Moon Knight’s crusade for vengeance are over, and Marc Spector is now crippled, after his last encounter with his former partner and nemesis Raul Bushman.

The final image of the chapter is Spector, collapsed onto his knees, clutching at the shroud about the statue of Khonshu with one hand while grasping at spilled vicodan with the other.  The monologue box reads, “I never asked to be a hero.  But please let me be a hero again.”   The beginning of this story fits Frye’s explanation of the general flow of Romance.  The main character goes from a state of happiness and reward to a state of disrepair and misery.  He yearns for the days of his glory, when his service to his god rewarded him with wealth and a beautiful woman.

The end of the story arc, though bittersweet, does end more happily than the state of affairs at the beginning, and a primary theme of the story is the hero’s return to a state of identity.  I argue, though, that the ending does not meet the necessary emotional satisfaction to be considered Romance.  While Marc Spector does return to his role as Arbiter of Vengeance and Blade of Khonshu, he does not find the reward or the glory that he desires.

After the dramatic and violent climax that echoes the excitement from the first scene, Moon Knight makes his escape, his inner monologue commenting, “In the end.  I get what I want.  Glories.  I get glories.  Glories such as these.”   The illustration for the last sentence – Glories such as these – shows Moon Knight being carried away by Marlene.  His body is broken and weak.  If this were a less realistic story, the six crossbow bolts would not have even fazed him, and the scene would have ended with Spector and Marlene in bed again, rather than her dragging him from the battlefield.

“Glories such as these” do not seem very glorious.  To blankly describe the last image as “a woman with her arms around the retuning hero” does not speak truly to the spirit of the image.  This might resemble a proper romantic ending, but it does not satisfy the emotional aspect of a happy ending.  The emotional comfort with the ending then oscillates.  Feeling like a new man, Spector leaves to visit Marlene, who maintains that their relationship has no chance of resurrection.  The happy ending is renewed when Spector visits and reconciles with Duchamp and they agree to go through physical rehabilitation with each other.  Finally, though, the reader is jerked downward by the confrontation with Khonshu.

The god reveals that his had been the hand behind the entire adventure.  His reason for doing so was to renew people’s belief in him.  “I’m a god,” he says, “I don’t fade.  I fight.  I fight dirty.”   This is how a god of vengeance and the moon justifies manipulating his priest.  Spector resists his god’s demand for blood and death, showing his hope for redemption when he whimpers, “I’m not like that.  I’m not like you.  I’m a hero.”   This whimpering protest for a happy ending is swatted aside by Khonshu’s reminder of the definition of the word “avatar: – “The descent of a god to Earth in incarnate form.”11 He also declaims to his priest, “You’re right you know, you’re not like me.  In the end.  You are me.”11  The ending is all but hopeless.  This god-thing holds out the promise of reward for service to Marc Spector, but this is far from a happy ending.

If this story is not a romance, then it must be some odd kind of realism.  Obviously this is not a fully realistic realism, but one that presents the world as it may conceivably be.  Here I invoke Wendy B. Faris to define Magical Realism.  She gives a quick and easy definition to begin her essay Scheherezade’s Chilren: Magical Realism and Postmodern Fiction: “Very briefly, Magical Realism combines realism and the fantastic in such a way that magical elements grow organically out of the reality portrayed.”   The reality portrayed in Moon Knight stems much farther than this single story.  This story is set within Marvel Comics’ main continuity, also called Earth-616.  These stories have a well-established element of the otherworldly or the fantastic.  Even as far as gods go, Khonshu is a relatively passive one.  Hercules, Ares, and Thor take a much more active hand in human affairs.

Faris more thoroughly defines Magical Realism with five criteria.  The first of these points is that, “The text contains an ‘irreducible element’ of magic, something we cannot explain according to the laws of the universe as we know them.”   The irreducible element of magic in this story comes from Khonshu’s hand in affairs from the beginning.  As the Profile explains in chapter 3, the interesting part of the story starts when Khonshu raises Marc Spector from death.

“In the tomb of Sety II, Spector encounters an extradimensional entity.  It identifies itself as Khonshu, the Egyptian god of the moon.  And of vengeance.  It brings Spector back to life as its avatar on Earth.  To do its work.  Really, it did.  What it actually is?  What it wants?  Who’s to say?  But Spector bought it.”

This is the irreducible element of magic, the one event that cannot be explained by the laws of the universe as we know them.  It does not matter whether the Khonshu who appears to Spector is the Egyptian god of vengeance and the moon or if he is the hallucination of an unwell mind.  Within the story, the issue of Khonshu’s existence is never resolved, but nobody can deny, as the Profile points out, that Spector died and something not of this world resurrected him, and this was done for a purpose.

The second of Faris’ main characteristics of Magical Realism is: “Descriptions detail a strong presence of the phenomenal world – this is the realism in magical realism, distinguishing it from much fantasy and allegory, and it appears in several ways.”   In Graphic Literature, the descriptions that would be given in the narrator’s voice are presented in the art.  The world presented in the artwork is meant to be representative of our own world.  It is quite remarkable that any extradimensional being, let alone this specific one claiming to be Khonshu, appears to Marc Spector.  Even the other costumed adventurers in this universe rarely encounter the supernatural.  Magic is something encountered only by the Mighty, on Earth-616.

Even when Spector dons his investments and sets out to deal Vengeance to his enemies, the artwork and Spector’s monologue let us know that he is not superhuman, that he feels the injuries inflicted upon him.  Marlene still needs to carry him to safety after the fighting is done, whereas a typical superhuman hero would simply walk, fly, or swing away on a web.  What makes Moon Knight seem superhuman is his indomitable will.

“In the end.  It’s all about what you can take.  In the end.  They all beg for mercy.  All except the best of them.  They beg.  Still not realizing what they’re dealing with.  What I can take.  What glories I’ve had.  How much I can take.  How much I can take from them all.  If I so choose.”

Spector’s will and his faith are his strength.  He will not fail, for if he does so, his god shall not reward him.  What rewards he receives, he must first take out of the skins of the wicked.  This detail of the story, while remarkable, is not otherworldly.  It is quite conceivable that a man would be able to ignore pain in the heat of battle, and charge forward on will alone.

This brings us to the Faris’ third criterion.  “The reader may hesitate (at one point or another) between two contradictory understandings of events – and hence experience some unsettling doubts.”   This story has many events whose explanations can be taken two ways.  The crux of this question is the existence of Khonshu.  The events of The Bottom could be explained as the Profile sees events: the heirs of a committee of villains hated their fathers so much that they decided to humiliate them by recruiting Spector, a goal the elder generation could not fulfill.  Plans go poorly and they trigger a sense of purpose in Marc Spector.  This leads him to attempt to reestablish ties with Marlene Alraune and Jean-Paul Duchamp.  This explanation is absolutely believable and mundane (predicated upon a reality where such things as criminal committees and masked vigilantes both exist and commonly come into conflict).

Alternatively, the reader could believe the words of Khonshu, who claims to have pushed the New Committee’s desire for vengeance, which caused them to hire Bushman, who crippled Spector, who learned just how bad life could be without his god’s favor.  Nowhere in the story is the reader given a definitive answer about the nature of the god.  Even the Profile, a master psychologist and empiricist, admits to the ambiguity of supernatural forces.  “Cross-dimensional influences, no telling what they’re after.  What they need.  But it’s always serious #&$%, whatever it is.”   He repeatedly admits the existence of something outside mortal ken, but he never admits them to be gods.

Wendy B. Faris’ fourth criterion for Magical Realism is this: “We experience the closeness or near-merging of two realms, two worlds… The magical realist exists at the intersection of two worlds, at an imaginary point inside a double-sided mirror that reflects in both directions.”   Again, this goes back to the irreducible element of magic in the story.  The catalyst for the story is the intersection and interaction between two worlds, or two dimensions, in the rational words of the Profile.  We cannot deny that Marc Spector died and something not of this world resurrected him.  If we choose to believe Khonshu’s explanation of the events, that also points toward a near-merging of two worlds.  The whole story becomes one of a god’s taking an active hand in the affairs of men.

Finally, Faris posits that, “These fictions question received ideas about time, space, and identity.”   The overt message given by Khonshu presents the question of identity when one dedicates himself to a particular cause for so long.  Is Marc Spector simply the Blade of Khonshu, or is he a hero, the Moon Knight?  This problem of identity is crucial to Spector’s character.  He seeks redemption for a life spent inflicting pain, but his talents and his god pull him toward blood and death.  Both the supernatural and the realistic explanations of events question not only Spector’s identity, but the nature of identity in general.

The Profile explains that everybody’s actions can be reduced to programming.  Free will, for him, is not a factor in people’s decisions.  He explains,

“All of us, we’re just what our past makes us… I see information.  Signals people send, without knowing they’ve been sent.  Interactions with objects.  Unconscious modesties.  I see programming.  All the ways we’ve been hardwired.  All the software loaded from experience.  It all shows up in our behavior.  Whether we want it to or not.”

This is a bleakly scientific outlook on life.  Raising this point of view calls identity into question.  For Spector, it means asking whether he is the avatar of vengeance, or a hero dedicated to aiding the common man, or simply a man who had a bad relationship with his rabbi father, playing out his life in violence and fantasy.

Spector’s identity is further called into question in the story The Uses of Restraint, when he goes for a psychological evaluation as part of his registration with the government, under the Superhuman Registration Act.  The Profile mentions three different aliases used by Moon Knight.  He was born Marc Spector, and he was a mercenary until his first resurrection.  After that, he developed two different personae: Jake Lockley, a working-class man of the people, and Steven Grant, a millionaire philanthropist.

The psychologist seems to be able to switch Spector between his three personalities through hypnosis.  Again, the reader must choose between the magical and the realistic explanations here.  If one prefers realism, then Spector’s responses during the interview can be explained as Spector playing along with the hypnosis, pretending to switch between Lockley and Grant and the Fist of Khonshu.  If one believes the magical, then the hypnosis was successful, and Khonshu truly does speak through his vessel.  Not expecting a fourth voice, the doctor asks to whom he speaks.

“Insect.  Worm.  Foul globule of waste and decay.  You are talking to no one.  You are not asked to talk.  Only your obedience is desired and commanded by the Lord of Vengeance and the Moon.  Khonshu speaks.”

The grandiose melodrama of this scene begs to be taken seriously.  In this light, Spector’s identity and the nature of supernatural interference in our world are called into question.  Even if Khonshu does not exist, Spector’s faith (programming) still allows for its influence to affect the world.

Continued

II – In Defense of the Medium

A question arises, obvious to many who have studied finer literatures than the text examined here: “Why should I care what happens in a Graphic Novel?”  This is a fair question, but only in its broader sense.  Every analysis of a literary work must by necessity begin with the question, “Why is this interesting?”  Most works speak for themselves in regards to this question.  Most readers do not stop to reflect on the value in analyzing most literature, due in great part to our culture’s evaluation of the written word.   History and science, for example, did not advance much during the Middle Ages because scholars merely accepted the writings of their ancestors as knowledge.  The thought process resembled, “Aristotle had written this down, and Aristotle is a father of thinking, thus this written word is unequivocally the truth.”

Falling back on such thinking is both lazy and detrimental to a greater understanding of the surrounding world.  On the other hand, very few of us can be expected to blaze completely new trails on our own.  In this vein, I myself fall back upon other examples of praised and analyzed Graphic Literature, as well as the work of acclaimed critics, such as Fedwa Malti-Douglas.  The popularity, reception, and criticism of such works as Art Spiegelman’s Maus: A Survivor’s Tale, Michael Chabon’s The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, or the much-acclaimed Watchmen  by Alan Moore proves that value exists in the genre.  Even the negative mention of these works and this genre proves that a conversation exists to be held.  For example, when Lydia Millet of The Wall Street Journal claims, “it’s simply bizarre to assert that, as an illustrated literary narrative, it rivals in artistic merit, say, masterpieces like Chris Ware’s ‘Acme Novelty Library’ or almost any part of the witty and brilliant work of Edward Gorey,”  the very necessity she felt in making that statement calls its inalienable veracity into question.

Northrop Frye makes a strong case against excluding literatures from the realm of acceptability in his discussion of myth versus fable in The Secular Scripture.  He describes literature in the terms of classical Greek critics, who categorized words as true, false, or plasmatic (presenting things as they conceivably could be).  This value judgment, he continues, begets a constructed binary: literature is either Serious or Frivolous.

“For the literary critic, at all events, everything in words is plasmatic, and truth and falsehood represent the directions or tendencies in which verbal structures go, or are thought to go… [W]hat is accepted as serious or dismissed as trifling may vary from one age to another, depending on currents of fashion or cultural attitudes operating for the most part outside of literature.”

To be sure, graphic literature has sat under the heading of Frivolous Literature since the early days of the industry; however, as Frye points out, mobility between these categories is possible because those categories are based on perception.  I reiterate, where graphic literature has traditionally been directed at a younger audience, the target demographic has aged over the last twenty years.  When the audience becomes younger adults, rather than children or youths, the subject matter and writing style must be tailored differently, i.e. more “seriously.”

And so, I am throwing my hat into the ring with this analysis.  I contest that the genre is worth examining.  This is not meant to be an all-inclusive statement, though.  I do not claim that every individual title is worth examining.  I don’t expect to find much in an issue of Scrooge McDuck (though you never know).  However, I do believe that a larger portion of published Graphic Literature can be found worthy of critique now, in the early part of the 21st Century.  Thus, I follow this rule of thumb: If a work provokes thought, regardless of the genre or format of that work, then it is worth analysis.

Mr. Kenneth Brannagh will be directing Thor.  That is all.

I – Introduction

Scholars have noticed a distinct upswing in works that can be categorized as Romance in the last few decades.  Many attribute this to Romance’s easy translation to the formats of film and television, while others claim that it is a natural moment in a cycle or pendulum that alternates between Romance and Realism.

Romance, though, has never fallen completely out of fashion.  Pulp fictions and penny dreadfuls have been popular amongst a literate middle class, ever since this middle class learned to read.  Does this mean that a literature aimed at a low-brow audience is entirely devoid of contemplative nutrition?  Not necessarily.  If we take penny dreadfuls’ descendants, Graphic Novels, as an example, we find a genre that has grown and matured.  Whereas the target audience for Graphic Literature forty or fifty years ago was the 7-13 age group, the modern target audience is the 18-35 age group.  Because the genre’s readership has grown, so has much of its writing (though it is difficult to say which is the chicken and which the egg, here).  This is no longer an industry of men who failed as artists and men who failed as writers.

Another category of literature unquestioningly aimed at adults is that of Magical Realism.  Difficulties arise in defining this category, largely because of a propensity toward keeping a geographical component in the definition.  Wendy Faris, however, offers an expanded and inclusive definition of Magical Realism, discarding the geographical element.  This definition seems to overlap greatly with that of Romance, though.

The aims of this paper are twofold.  The first aim is to analyze the similarities and differences between the categories “Romance” and “Magical Realism.”  I call them “categories” here rather than “genres” because of an important question: “Is Magical Realism a genre on its own, or is it merely as subset of Romance?”  I shall call upon the criticism of Northrop Frye and Wendy Faris in aid of this discussion.

The second aim of this paper is to illustrate the differences and similarities between these genres by applying them to a single work.  Because I am interested in Graphic Literature, because I believe the medium worth analysis, and because of the difficulty in categorizing many Graphic Novels, I have chosen to analyze Marvel Comics’ Moon Knight, written by Charlie Huston.  My focus will primarily look at the story arc The Bottom.

I return, having laid waste to much of what has kept me occupied.

As I have spent much of my time writing some critical essays, I shall post them as they become available.

Here is the prospectus for a piece on Magical Realism and Romance in Moon Knight.

Part of the interest in Magical Realism is the difficulty in its definition.  If we take Wendy Faris’ definition of the term, then the genre expands to include many more texts, some of which had been previously categorized in a different manner.  Many of these newly re-shelved texts sit elsewhere under the traditional heading, “Romance.”  Because of the ambiguity regarding these two headings and the intersection of their genres, I shall refer to each as a “category” to avoid confusion.

In this paper, I shall discuss the intersection Romance and Magical Realism.  Methods of analysis shall include comparisons of each category’s contrast against Realism and exploration and clarification of the definitions of these categories, referring primarily to Northrop Frye and Wendy Faris.

The primary text I shall analyze in this light will be the graphic novel series Moon Knight, paying special attention to the story arcs “The Bottom” and “God and Country.”  Here I will use my observations on Magical Realism and Romance to analyze the plot and the characters of this text.  I hope to be able to place this work squarely into one of those categories, but I expect to find that Magical Realism merely sits in the middle of a Lanserian spectrum running from Romance to Realism.

A friend needs Bawdy Ladies for a production of Rigoletto.  No singing necessary, just bawdiness.  It’s in San Francisco. It’s very last-minute.  I’ll just cut-and-paste what you need.

Friday, April 3  7:00 - 9:00 p.m.   (women:  8 - 9 p.m.)

   (7:00 - 8:00 pg. 110-132  Abduction ... The Curse Changes to Truth;  8:00 - 9:00 pg. 12-16  Rigoletto Jests with Ceprano)

Saturday, April 4  11:00 a.m. - 3:00 p.m.   (women:  11 a.m. - 1 p.m.)

   (11:00 - 11:45 pg. 17-38  Marullo's Big News and Monterone's Curse;  11:45 - 1:00  Run Act I;  1:00 - 1:30 break;   1:30 - 2:00 pg. 138-157  We brought a lady to you ...;   2:00 - 3:00 pg. 158-173  Poor Little Rigoletto)

Thursday, April 9  6:30 - 9:00 p.m.  (women:  6:30 - 9 p.m.)

   (Run Act I)

Friday, April 10  6:30 - 9:00 p.m.  (no women)

   (Run Act II)

Saturday, April 11  11:00 a.m. - 3:00 p.m.  (women:  11 a.m. - ca. 1 p.m.)

   (Run Show)

Technical Rehearsals, The Cowell Theatre, Fort Mason  

Monday, April 13  7:30 - 11:00  Sitzprobe  (no women)

Tuesday, April 14  6:30 - 11:00  Tech. Rehearsal  (women:  6:30 to end of Act I)

Wednesday, April 15  6:30 - 11:00  Dress Rehearsal  (women:  6:30 - end of Act I)

Performances, The Cowell Theatre, Fort Mason  (Call times TBD)

Friday, April 17  7:30 p.m.

Sunday (matinée), April 19  2:00 p.m.

Friday, April 24  7:30 p.m.

Sunday (matinée), April 26  2:00 p.m.

If you do have someone who is interested please have them call or email me directly.  AS you can see, they are called for rehearsal this evening.

Sincerely,

Chip Grant

415-999-9965

Almost done.

“Now, before you do the same to me, I just want you to know that I could increase the pressure to the point where a Bradley Tank couldn’t survive. You wouldn’t even finish the R in “rock on”, or whatever your catch phrase is. I just want to talk.” I have no strength to resist and no other obvious options, so I say nothing.

He lowers himself onto the floor and sits cross-legged. I notice for the first time that he is wearing a deep blue body glove. I’ve never seen him in his full villain suit. For some reason, when I imagined my host at “work”, he was wearing his heart-patterned boxers, his bathrobe, and his mask. After all, I’d seen him at home plenty times, wearing just that and trying to enjoy the jam on his toast. Either he’s gotten home from work just now, or I’ve really fucked things up.

“Now, you don’t think I got all dressed up just to villain at you?” he begins. “I generally don’t talk to you hero types. Mostly, I shout curses or promises of retribution as I make my daring escape.

“And I know we got off to the wrong start – me with cereal dripping down my PJ’s and you being one of the Slide’s weird friends he’s so fond of bringing over. So let’s just take it slow.” He scoots across the floor to sit next to me, and reclines. “You ever been talked down by a hostage negotiator before? Amazing people. That’s where I get most my therapy, actually. Anyway, why did you do it? I mean, what reason are you using to help maintain the illusion of your sanity?”

I lay and hear him talk. He obviously thinks me mad.

“Why?” I ask. “Can’t you see the danger of the situation? We couldn’t leave him here. He would just escape. And we can’t leave the source of his power here. Not anywhere that someone could find it.” The pain in my arm-that-isn’t-there is excruciating. Between the pain, the crystal on the floor, and not thinking of Brickie, my head is swimming. All I can do is lay here and talk to him. My head lolls to the side, and I see the crystal. With gargantuan effort, my arm moves, and my fingers brush it, as it caresses my mind. It resonates with the heart.

“I don’t want it,” I say. “I mean, I do. It’s… it’s singing. Inside my brain. It’s beautiful. But it’s frightening, too. It’s too big. Far too big. The heart, too. That’s a huge burden. I don’t know what to do with it. I can’t make the decision on my own.” I know the truth in the words as I slur them. “I need my friends. Or, at least I need the thing they’re building. They might not understand.” Brickie saunters across my mind. Chester and he are playing again. They’re singing and coloring. Well, Chester is coloring.

“I had a plan, Depths.” The muscles in my shoulders knot as I try to turn my head back to him. “It might still work. I can keep it with me, or give it to someone else if it gets to be too much. But we get in that thing they’re building, and we can get to the Core. We can give it back to the Earth. Gaia. She can decide what to do with it. Not my choice. Not my right.” Even as I speak, I know I’m just babbling. What I really mean is, “it’s not my problem,” but I can’t say that. Hell, I don’t even admit that I’m thinking that.

He must think me mad. Finally, I look up at the Depths. He’s been silent for a long time, now. He might be about to beat me until I cry, or he might be about to stand up and offer me a cup of coffee. He reminds me of my dad, right now. I can’t take it anymore.

“Please,” I beg. “You won’t tell anyone. Will you?”

He looks at me for a few minutes and finally shakes his head. Except for those eyes, a uniform midnight blue, he looks completely human. Finally, he begins to speak, in a slow, labored, and almost fatherly way.

“You heroes – always judge, jury, and executioner, taking on all the burdens, never asking ‘Can I handle this? Is it right for me to try?’ Do you think your brand of justice is more fair or more wise than this ‘Gaia’? The way I see it, this asshole killed her ‘chosen one’ and pulled a fast one on her. She’s bound to have a thing to say about that.

“Plus, how sure are you that we couldn’t restrain him? You guys seem to bring back loads of ways to stop him, as if you just had to drop by the store to pick ’em up.

“But I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re angry. I mean, hell! I couldn’t even show what my cameras just recorded to the Inappropriator, and he’s a raging sadist! I don’t think you like to see power used to take advantage of those with none. That’s respectful, honorable, surely. But to make sure you understand that you are very close to undoing yourself, I’ll let you in on a trade secret. You have just gained two new powers.”

My head lolls, and I can feel my face twist into confusion and outrage. He interrupts my silent protest. “Hear me out! You’re a bloody guest in my home, right? Ok. First power: you secretly went ahead without consulting the team. No one likes that. Creates distrust. Do you know why the Slide and I don’t work together anymore? He made plans without me and would only call me in for last-minute backup, because he couldn’t handle it by himself. See what I’m saying? You say you can’t make the decision to take on his powers by yourself, but you can take his life, without consulting anyone? I’m one of the ‘bad guys’, and even I think that doesn’t add up. But that means nothing, you understand, because it’s done. You did it, and now you have to live with it.

“Which brings me to the second power: you’ve given in. You killed a prisoner, who wasn’t fighting back. You butchered him, really. In another time and society, that would have made you one of us. Now, though, because only I know what happened, and because I don’t make that kind of call, it’s up to you. You’ve done it and now you know that you can. What will you do with that knowledge? No, don’t tell me. That’s something you need to think about.

“You may think that now you know where your line is, and you’re better for it. True, but don’t fool yourself into thinking that line is gonna stay where you know it is. From here it only gets…easier.”

The Depths takes a dramatic glance around the room. He really seems to enjoy the theatrics of villainy. He relaunches into his tirade, asking, “Tell anyone? I don’t have to. Look at this mess! You’re just lucky you don’t have a lycanthrope on your team. They would still know after five showers. You need to dump the body, clean the cell, and hide the heart. You also need a shower and a story.

“Except for the last two, you need me. You don’t know where the disposal is, you’ll never get the stains off in time, and you can’t take your eyes off that ticker. I can get a machine in here to dispose of the body perfectly, and hide the heart, in just under five minutes. I also have a nanoscrubber, which will have the blood out of here and off of you with no trouble.”

“You’re right,” I admit,”I need your help. Please just help me with the body, and let me take my shower. I’ll take care of the heart and the story.”

I wait for him to let me up. My strength is returning. The pain has lessened by an eyelash. When he lets me stand, I do so. I close my eyes and feel the Moon Rock in the room. I lift it towards me, moulding it. Shaping it. The Shard which I used in my butchery hangs where my hand used to be. After a few minutes, the stone has fused. It feels like the same size and shape my arm used to be.

I’ve never had to bring back this much of my body before. I pray that it works. My form shifts, and I grow lighter. I move my right hand, feeling the flakes of stone fall away from my arm. You might never know that it had been gone, except for a seam. More like a scar. That will hopefully fade with time. I can’t be sure, though.

I draw a deep breath before speaking again. “Thank you, Depths.” I look into his eyes. I can trust him, but I don’t know how far. I kneel down, and pick up the Heart. It resonates in my brain. I can hear the crystal singing. I must be strong. I can’t allow Chester to know what I’ve done. If I can’t be strong enough, I don’t want him to know about any of this.

“I’ll take the Heart to the others. We’ll make the decision together. I can only let myself go so far. Any farther, and I’ll end up on your side.” I cross the room and pick up my shirt, mask, gloves, and coat. The Heart goes into my jacket pocket.

“Alright, fine. I’ll shower while you seal the room. Remember, though, they need to think that he’s still in here. We’ll continue the plan to go to the Center, but I’ll tell the team after we’ve left. I’ll give it to them then.” I heave a heavy sigh.

“Where’s the shower?”