Conspiracy Theory

Reading Douglas Preston and Mario Spezi's Monster of Florence. Epiphany: Conspiracy theories are wonderful for fiction, but they are annoying and bizarre when applied to real life. But, when the police develop a conspiracy theory as in the the case of Dr. Narducci, the School of the Red Rose, and the serial killer(s) known as the Monster of Florence, then God help us.

It is as though the investigators, in their single-minded obsession to catch the killer, see it as a personal offront that the killer is still loose, and develop a kind of collective delusion. They must justify their obsession. They must justify why this character has eluded them for decades. Of course! It can't be only one person! Of course! It must be a conspiracy against law and order. Of course! It has to be a shadowy group of very rich and powerful individuals who are united against me, because a poor Sardianian illiterate could never have eluded justice so effectively for so long. There's nothing wrong with MY methods--I must be up against impossible odds. The motive? Of course--it MUST be SATANIC, because I certainly feel as though I'm in hell...

Apparently such investigative "technique" is tantamount to a kind of hysteria--and leads to factitious delusion and the most bizarre leaps in logic. Like auditors, investigators may need to be rotated so that they don't develop these Captain Ahab-like fixations and mental disorders.

Preston and Spezi, having the temerity to review the evidence and come to their own conclusions--which deviate from the investigator's bizarre construct of events, fall under the lens of suspicion themselves. Like the Salem Witch Trials, when questioning the procedure itself was enough to bring suspicion on the questioner.

Money quote: "I felt like I was in Franz Kafka's The Trial, acted out by Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis."

Daniel Hecht

Finished Bones of the Barbary Coast by Daniel Hecht. Wonderful, lush prose and vivid storytelling, an active main character, and adherence to Point of View make this title well worth reading. Three characters form a triangle of point of view, so that the mistaken notions of one are revealed in the point of view of another. This is effective novel writing. A fourth point of view makes itself known in the journal entries of a dead character, writing from the 1880s.

Hecht deftly works the theme of werewolf, the savage beast within, into the story, as Cree Black's allegiance changes over the course of the novel from her uncle Bert to Ray, a mysterious, deformed figure with strange ideas, who Bert has tangled with in the past. Both men must confront their inner beasts and Hecht uses point of view so extremely well, that there is a seamless transfer of the reader's allegiance, along with Cree's, from Bert to Ray.

I'm not giving too much away here, I hope, since the central mystery, the McGuffin, or raison d'etre, is the Wolfman--a skeleton found in the basement of a San Francisco house. The mystery of the Wolfman's origin forms the scaffold on which the novel is hung--with the character arcs forming all the connective mortar of the story.

Hecht understands physicality in a way that few writers do. His description of action, in particular is based in the physicality of the character from whose point of view he's writing. For Bert, it's dancing, and his heart, for Ray, his sheer exuberant masculine strength. Hecht's description of the thought process during one of the character's deaths (sorry--you have to read to find out which one) rings so emotionally true, that the reader is satisfied that this was contemplated deeply before being set down on the page. We can only ask that much of those whose writing we trust to read.

I note here, sadly, that I listened to the audio version of the book, which was narrated by Anna Fields, who died in a freak accident a year or so ago here in Seattle. She was gifted.

Point of View

Finished Val McDermid's Beneath the Bleeding. I love her characters. I love her caginess. But I have a technical bone to pick. This is not a whodoneit, since we know from the get-go who did the murders, but rather a whydoneit. Even so, you can't write from the killer's point of view and not spill the beans; unless it's some kind of epistolary artifact, like a written confession, a letter, a diary, or a blog, lol. But if you're just walking around inside the guy, inhabiting his head, then you can't simply omit telling the reader the answer to the central mystery--in this case--his motive.

Point of view is a delicate and fragile thing. It establishes trust, a contract with the reader--and when used well it enhances willing suspension of disbelief. You can't abuse it.

On the other hand, the question of the poisoner's motive is left unanswered--and is masterfully handled in the white space. The footballer's body shows evidence of anal abuse. The young policeman, subdued by the poisoner with a Micky Finn of roofie-laden OJ has his pants undone. The poisoner, when caught, argues "I'm NOT a pouffe." McDermid doesn't have to spell it out. It's there--in the white space. Absolutely masterful. She doesn't have to be explicit. Tony Hill knows, though he doesn't articulate it. We know--even though it isn't articulated. Throughout the book Tony keeps trying to profile the poisoner and is non-plussed by the seeming lack of a sexual motive. And in the end, of course, there is one. Brilliant.

So technically, what's the difference? Val McDermid never writes from the poisoner's point of view.

Reputation

Reputation, reputation, reputation! O! I have lost my reputation. I have lost
the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation, Iago,
my reputation!

-Shakespeare, Othello, Act II Scene iii

Wikipedia states that "reputation" is an ego construct which exists as a mechanism of social control. (My emphasis)

This past week I watched a co-contributor's rep go down in fiery flames due to a perverse and disastrous email exchange with a third party. Emotions ran white-hot, and in the rare and strange medium of email and the internet, unconscionable and irretractable things were written. And thus the escalating war of words was spread throughout the blogosphere and my fellow writer's rep is now dust in a box.

Personally, I am not involved beyond having a story published in the same anthology, however, I feel for the guy. There but for many, many years of subjecting my work to critique groups, lots of therapy and 12-step groups, go I. I am also a very hypersensitive individual. My work means a lot to me, as everyone's does.

But here's the truth: The only opinion that matters is that of the editor who buys your work. You submit and submit and submit, and eventually, you'll find someone who resonates emotionally with your work. Don't pay any attention to those who don't. As my great writing teacher and mentor Pam Goodfellow says, "just smile and nod." It's a bobble-headed response to bad reviews. Don't waste any time trying to change anyone's opinion, let your work speak for itself. You'll cultivate mystery and dignity that way.

Now that I've blogged about this I can hopefully stop obsessing about it and let it go. My life seems to be a continuous string of serial obsessions...

Unspeakable Horror is Almost Here

Gentle Friends, my debut story is almost out on the store shelves. I received my contributor copies in the mail yesterday and I'm salavating to read the other 17 stories (besides mine) which are in the book. This is an excellent story value for the price.

You may order your very own from Amazon.

The editors, Vince Liaguno and Chad Helder, have an interview over at Zombo's Closet of Horror which is quite complimentary to yours truly. Please check it out!

Doppelganger

Websters defines "doppelganger" as "a ghostly counterpart of a living person." Different from a ghost because the individual is still alive. The doppelganger is a psychic double or distinct separate entity from the individual. This metaphor has been used throughout literature and is deeply ingrained in the psyche of Western Civilization. The astrological sign of Gemini comes to mind. Also the sign Pisces, with its twin inverted individuals. The god Janus, the god with two faces, one looking forward, the other back. Popular culture is repleat with intances of "evil twins." The novels and stories of Joyce Carol Oates and the films of David Lynch explore this theme tirelessly.

Dr. Robert J. Lifton, in his book The Nazi Doctors: Medical Killing and the Pyschology of Genocide suggests that psychological doubling was the means by which such individuals as Josef Mengele (to name only the most infamous) were psychologically capable of being loving family men on the one hand, and ruthless mass murderers on the other.

In Dr. Lifton's view, the psyche doubles. This process is distinct from splitting, the effect of which is usually dissociation. The result is that the split personality is numb or catatonic. On the other hand, the psychological double experiences no loss of efficiency.

Says Dr. Lifton:

Doubling is part of the universal potential for what William James called the “divided self”: that is, for opposing tendencies in the self. James quoted the nineteenth-century French writer Alphonse Daudet’s despairing cry "Homo duplex, homo duplex!” in noting his “horrible duality” — as, in the face of his brother Henri’s death, Daudet’s “first self wept” while his “second self” sat back and somewhat mockingly staged the scene for an imagined theatrical performance.9 To James and Daudet, the potential for doubling is part of being human, and the process is likely to take place in extremity, in relation to death.

I have experienced this phenomenon when performing on stage, also watching myself perform from the audience. George C. Scott, the actor, also reported having this experience (as well as many other performers). Dr. Lifton's theory though, is that psychological doubling occurs under duress. The duress is the ego's rejection of the moral depravity of mass murder on the scale of Auschwitz. Thus the ego "doubles" or allows a separate and distinct personality to emerge that has no moral scruples.

Dr. Lipton states that for the Nazi doctors, the turning away from their previous code of ethics and moral equalibrium was a kind of psychological stress fracture. Their individuality had been pummeled into submission by the fuhrerprinzip. The Nazi hierarchy was entrenched and intractable. It allowed for no deviation, no dissent, and no disagreement. The alternative to utter submission to the will of the fuhrer was death. So yes, the psychological doubling of the Nazi doctors was in effect a Faustian bargain, which allowed them to survive as participants and organizers of the horror of the concentration camps and in particular the medical "treatments" and experimental procedures they imposed. That the resulting holocaust was so extreme is testament to the very nature of the SS Nazi "cult" they were all desperately trying to function within, coupling intense fear of death or reprisal with a desire to please one's superiors. None of this emancipates one from ethical responsibility, of course.

New Home

Welcome to the new home of Furor Scribendi at Blogger. I attempted to merge my AOL Journal with my Blogger account which I set up back in 2005, but I could only import into a new blog, rather than merge with an existing blog, and this is it. You are in the right place for info about Mike Hacker's doings. For more specific details about Mike Hacker's writing, please visit my other blog, White Space. This blog is more for politics, philosophy and issues of personal interest, whereas White Space is geared specifically toward writing.

So please kick back and take a look through the archives. Lots of comments on lots of different issues. Make yourselves t'home.