Soundless Music and Storyless Story: Yves Klein's Symphony and Idries Shah's The Book of the Book

Nothing quite says something as much as nothing does, sometimes.

There was a performance of Yves Klein’s Monotone Symphony in New York last month. Klein is a fascinating and disruptive artist. His Symphony is in two movements. The first movement is a sustained D major chord that lasts 20 minutes. The second movement is a 20 minute period of 'silence' - i.e. no musicians playing but just ambient sound.

The Beginning of the NY Concert

And ... In France they Kiss on Main Street

And here is a video of a 'Happening' with Yves Klein, the musicians, blue paint, the artist's models and audience. Quite different from 2013 ... hmm ...

You can also listen to the performance of March 9, 1960 here.

The Book of the Book by Idries Shah

Stories without story? Now THAT is hard to do!

I bought The Book of the Book in the late seventies (I was buying all of Idries Shah's books available at that time in my life). It was 'controversial'. The first 16 pages of the book has text - story within story without story about story - and the rest of the book was blank paper. Not even page numbers. Interestingly, and as an artist I am so grateful for this, you can read the complete The Book of the Book on googlebooks. It will take you about five minutes. Hah! Five minutes to read. But ... how long to digest?

I recommend The Book of the Book to all writers in the genres of magical realism and speculative fiction. In fact, I wholeheartedly recommend all of Shah's books to writers of magical realism and SF. For ... there is much there about 'causality', in both its hidden and obvious elements. For ... there is much in his books about building worlds. For ... there is much there about how observers (unknowing) create worlds and hide worlds from themselves purely by deciding what their perceptions 'mean'. For ... there is much there about the 'real' and the 'really real'. And, on a personal note, I take inspiration from his work to write to 'change the cultural world' by inviting my readers to think about what kind of life they really want to live in the really real world.

Stories are healing. This is the way it is. Stories are also, manifestly, the opposite. Readers are there for stories that heal. Something different this way comes.

Namaste! I bow to and honor the light within you!

A Small Masterpiece: The Blue Germ by Maurice Nicoll (Review)

This is a review that I wrote last year for Amazon. I'm publishing it again since I'm planning to review some fiction by 'Seekers of the Truth', as Nicholl most certainly was, and, indeed, by finders of 'The Truth'.

Do seekers of the truth write different kinds of stories that are 'healing' to culture, in a general sense? The answer is ... yes. That idea interests me, since I have a deep and passionate interest in how we, collectively, create 'culture/society', and how that creation in turn informs us or makes us ignorant and unthinking. Anywy ... enough preamble ...

Maurice Nicholl, who wrote this under the nom de plume of Martin Swayne, was one of the great Fourth Way teachers of the 20th century. Nicholl wrote fiction in the years roughly 1911 to 1924. This is "science fiction". And it is science fiction of the type and style written in this period in the UK. Its style is quintessentially "British", its pace Edwardian, its techniques simple yet setting up a protagonism between points of view spiritual and materialistic. And it is a flowing, compelling story. Except for the techniques used to make manifest the ending.

The story of The Blue Germ is simple and intriguing. Two doctors, one Russian and one English, discover a bacillus with powerful properties. The story begins with Dr Harden tripping over his black cat, hitting his head, and, in the consciousness shock that follows he comes to the perception of an immense scientific discovery. Together with his colleague Sarakoff they perfect the Sarakoff-Harden bacillus. The properties of which are ... to kill all other germs in the human body. And the consequence of this ... well ... human beings will be immortal. Unless they are actively killed, of course.

So, what better way for an Edwardian scientist to test his "theory" than to test it out ... in real life. And so the pair of them introduce the bacillus into the water supply of Birmingham in Midlands England. The bacillus flourishes and creates the "Blue Disease", since fingernails and eye whites turn blue. Together with the fact that all those who are currently ill have their illnesses removed at a fast pace.

Well ... huge changes in "society" will be needed ... and ... how will different characters and personalities react to the prospect of immortality? Hah!

The Blue Germ is actually a compelling story well told. The conciseness of it is pretty similar to that of Michael Crichton. Style too, stripping away the Edwardian-ness of Nicholl writing as Swayne. And the story ... well ... there are many stories about "germs" in our modern consciousness. We seem to love them! The Blue Germ would make a marvelous, Crichton-esque movie. The ending? Forgive the book the ending - it is "poor". But getting there is not! Enjoy it. No guns, car chases, electronic eavesdropping, mayhem-in-general. What would you do if you were told that you are now immortal ... exactly, exactly as you are (age, appearance etc.) right now.

Namaste! I bow to and honor the Light within you!

High Craft: Wonderful Stories of Yearning ... and More

I have just finished a wonderful collection of stories that have engaged me in all kinds of enjoyments of reading - "At the Mouth of the River of Bees" by Kij Johnson. I engage with stories - long or short - that resonate with that energetic space within me where lies the yearning and desire to Unfold and Become ... all that I Am and can Be. There are a couple of stories that I love, due to these terms of engagement, and all of them I enjoyed engaging with. Additionally, for writers and aspiring writers, there is much here to learn about 'craft' and 'techniques'.

In a nutshell, there are 18 tales, originally published across the span 1993 - 2012 (one published here for the first time) and their collective scope, taken together, is 'broad'. I like 'broad' in a story collection. That does mean that there are some stories that I may not 'like'. Which is true here. Even those ones I don't feel resonant with or enjoy as story I do engage with as writing, quality writing, and can learn from.

The standout story for me is "The Cat Who Walked a Thousand Miles". This story is a true treasure; and it would make a most wonderful (short) animated film. The central character is Small Cat, whose home (ideal for the tribe of cats who commune and dwell together) is destroyed by earthquake and fire. And so Small Cat embarks on a journey and a quest ... to find. Always yearning, and never giving up the heroic goal, through both danger and support, Small Cat does find what she journeyed a thousand miles for. My Spirit danced as I read. I cried a little. I can't and don't ask for more.

Similarly, the story "The Man Who Bridged the Mist" also enticed me to dance within and with it. It is set in "Empire", where all the people seem to me to be of goodness (this is not an explicit declaration of the story), and all communities are ones of goodness. Kit is the architect of the bridge that is essential for Empire and Rasali is a ferrywoman who ferries across the river of mist, inhabited by fish and "Big Ones" - very dangerous work. It begins 'quietly'. Then, it stays 'quietly'. It is long, and so I had time to wonder; "how will it end?". And the story progresses - quietly - and I wonder again the same question. Which intrigues me greatly. And so I let myself be drawn into the story. At the end of the story (which is told across five years or so) Rasali makes a commitment to her yearning - to further, And Kit also. Very beautiful. Plangent, with the wistfulness that sometimes accompanies our relationship to our own yearning.

Other stories are very different. Some edgier. Some 'experimental'. "Wolf Trapping", another high, is 'about' our understanding of other sentience. The morality of the scientist, Richard, conflicts with the yearning of Addie, who is developing a relationship with a pack of wolves way beyond the experience and comfort of science. The opening story is wonderfully Ray Bradbury-esque, and is its own trueness. I mean this as a compliment of lineage. "Ponies" scared me in the same feeling way that reading the classic "Mimsy were the Borogoves" did all these years ago. And more good reading besides all these named. I have focused on 'yearning'. I read it in other stories here too. But then, yearning calls to me. You may equally love and like these stories and not experience them as ones of yearning.

Finally ... to return to writers and aspiring writers. There is lots of craft and techniques here. I distinguish the two. One of the highest of the high, for me, is when a story is written such to tell itself and it seems like it is not through the intermediation of these things called words, but rather, it just flows into the imaginal mind. Frictionless. Telling. That is high craft. Both "The Cat Who Walked ..." and "The Man Who Bridged ..." were that for me. Straight telling into. Let me repeat. That such telling is high craft.

Be quiet and patient with these stories. And ... "The Cat Who Walked ..." is a treasure.

Namaste! I bow to and honour the Light within you!