Hell

There's such a satisfying feeling in finishing a book-- especially in a timely manner. This is especially true if a class expects it of you, but happily, that's not a concern right now. (It will be, though. It will be...)


I'm happy to report that Damned has indeed expanded Chuck Palahniuk's previous outlines of novel shape and growth. In terms of my question last time--is Palahniuk's contemptuous attitude toward the everyday schmuck based on a criticism of everyone else, or the criticism of the self within a system of schmucks?-- I assert that it is indeed the latter. Why? 


Because Madison-- the protagonist of Damned-- makes significantly more growth or even evolution, than any of Palahniuk's former characters to my knowledge. Being young is probably a huge influence on that, but it also is important to note that she's also not alive, and therefore thrown into a system of being that is entirely up to Palahniuk's composition. Which is hugely ironic because the notion of the character-within-story comes into play. (I'll try to avoid any spoilers.) 


Let's just say that on one or two occasions both Madison and the reader are forced to consider whether or not Madison is actually a free-willed character-- as in an entity with her own life that is being told in a story-- or a bound character-- one who was a character from the get-go and is bound by the fate of the story already written. 


As a young author, I got a little excited over this. Why? Because it does fascinating things with the notions of perspective, of fate, of life and death, and the identity of an individual. These notions are the stuff of legend. Seriously. Look at any Greek epic, tragedy, any Shakespearean play, almost any great contemporary novel and if it's not about politics or satire, then it's going to be about someone trying to find himself, to find a lover with whom to build a life, to struggle with the inevitability of death, or to transcend mere mortality. 


In Madison's case, this is complicated by the aspects of her early death, her youth, and therefore a shaky idea of "selfhood" to begin with, her ambivalence between loving and hating herself, the notion that this ambivalence is a reflection of Palahniuk's own sense of identity, and the idea that she has been written into existence-- along with her family and possibly all of her friends and anyone else she's met-- by a rather exceptional and questionable entity. 


I'm sighing as I write this. I don't want to give away who her supposed writer is, but it's just such a juicy topic... 


Well, I'll leave that to you. Take my frustration as a sign that it's actually a tantalizing read; Chuck Palahniuk broke the 4th wall with dynamite and hellfire, revealing a frustratingly snarky, but refreshingly ambitious and willful character with a great amount of depth and growth to go through. That, and there's a bit of promise for a sequel-- something I've never experienced in a Palahniuk novel. Clearly, he's taking this particular character and plot seriously as well. Well...as seriously as Palahniuk can take anything...


My point is that Palahniuk uses Madison not only as a vessel for some of his doubts and ambitions in negotiating the "self." There are quite a few moments in the book that would back that assertion up, but I'll simply use: "No, it's not too late for me to devote myself to being funny or artsy...however, having failed at my initial strategy, I'll never again have such faith in a single identity." Sure, Palahniuk is probably a 40-something-year-old and not worried about a middle school identity anymore, but it's true that he rarely addresses the notion of identity so openly and with so much confessed doubt in his works. I'm not saying that he doesn't use his other protagonists in a similar, if not the same manner, but that Madison is a prime and unusual example. In addition, he intends to expound upon this, continuing to use Madison's identity and rebellious existence to fuel a new novel.


Since this sequel has yet to be written, I've moved on to the other spectrum of excellent--and hellish-- writing with George Orwell's 1984. This book has been on my bookshelf for at least two or three years, so I'm excited to finally get on with it, though I'm not very far in just yet. 


For anyone unaware of its incredible reputation, it's a dystopian novel based on Orwell's-- actually Eric Blair's-- ideas of what the world will degrade into after the 1940s, filled with terrifying depictions of the  confiscation of individual freedoms in the face of war.


George Orwell-- Eric Blair-- has also written Animal Farm, another chilling social commentary that uses the lives and organization of animals on an every day farm to reflect the political rise of a nation in turmoil. For anyone who has yet to read Animal Farm, I can wholeheartedly recommend it; I realize that the notion of social commentary and political metaphors can drive interest out of a person like a whirlwind, but it's written in such a way that the political metaphors occur as a back-of-brain phenomena. Not occurring within the occipital lobe, of course, but I mean to say that it occurs quietly, almost subconsciously, and that the true appeal arises in realizing why the horrific events and transformation from innocent farm to complicated community actually strike a cord within every individual. 


Whew-- I just got chills. 


So, from one hell to another, I suppose. In addition, I'm planning on dipping my toes into the murk of Amnesia: The Dark Descent soon as well as Fear: First Encounter Assault Recon, two horror games that I hope will be just as nourishing to indulge in. 


Amnesia is a PC game-- now Mac, too-- that basically models the old point-and-click adventure games. However, it's reputed to be terrifyingly confusing. Your character is someone with-- everyone say it together-- amnesia, and can't recall who he really is or why on Earth he's appeared in this creepy castle where the game is set. The point of the game is to get out of the castle and try to recollect what happened to you before the game started. Naturally, there's a creepy monster that makes creepy noises, and lots of dark murky water to wade through, so it's going to have its startling moments. 


Fear is the first in a series of horror First Person Shooter/Adventure games. You play as a soldier encountering a paranormal and supposedly horrifying force that is murdering people. I've actually only played part of the third game before, but from what I've gathered, there's a complicated family involved with a number of fascinatingly dangerous and mysterious powers, as well as a very creepy and possibly incestuous history. Don't take my word on that just yet. It's just a vibe I'd been getting. 


So Hell on all sides, perhaps. I'm curious to see whether there are some parallels among them-- horror does have basic elements, no matter the medium of expression, so it might be fun to find those connections and maybe even exploit them in future works.




P.S. I knew it was impossible to die from a marijuana overdose. Madison's actual death is much more interesting and it makes sense why she would repress the memory. Read Damned.