Nemonymous (nemonymous) wrote,

Dadaoism (3)

My real-time review continued from here: DADAOISM – a new anthology from Chômu Press

12 ‘Noises’, by Joe Simpson Walker
Fat fucking goth with a face like Eric Pickles in drag.”
A sad yet hilarious gem of grotesquerie about the noises that beset tenants in flats from other tenants (something that hit a nerf with me as I know someone who has been in just such a situation) – and you may think there is exaggeration in the symptoms described but you really must read this story: it’s brilliant in conveying wonderful nuisance noises that really hit home – so unbelievable, but also at the same time so true! Well, it takes Reggie’s eschairtological chair and factors it into Brendan’s inferred bondage theme earlier – and we have our reading palate cleansed by the pure flame of retribution if not unrequited love … with a sad but eschatologically hilarious final twist. [I don't know if Eric Pickles is at that Greek ceremony today?] (17 May 12 – 8.30 am bst)
Deliciously scatological as well as eschatological! (17 May 12 – 9.45 am bst)

13 ‘Romance, with Mice’, by Sonia Orin Lyris
“Lines of fire, it feels like, that go through her arms and into her heart and stomach. And groin.”
A tantalising treatment of Proustian unrequited love from the viewpoint of the female protagonist, sparking thoughts – via the ‘intrusive author’ syndrome and the aforementioned Intentional Fallacy — of what I once called “revelling in vulnerabilty“, a concept that seems intrinsic to this whole book and to much ‘dark’ literature. And there is further fortuitous working of Peter Gilbert’s earlier revelation, as a version of that ‘revelling’, regarding proximity with real live things (rather than with internet ghosts) and then creating ‘Art’ within that actual vital proximity. Bravo! “She looks at the clock across the street from the park where she’s sitting…” (17 May 12 – 1.10 pm bst)

There is no guarantee how long this real-time review will take to complete, i.e. whether days or years. (17 May 12 – 1.15 pm bst)

As those who have read my previous real-time reviews already know, I try to pay no prior attention to anything published outside of the book’s fiction itself – but I often do pay attention to the shape and style of the book itself while conducting any review, and some of the themes in this very book point to that importance. You will be reading a different ‘book’ if you read an ebook version of it, in other words. That’s not a value judgement comparing the two formats, merely a fact to be taken into account according to your individual tastes. For example, I couldn’t help noticing in my email in-box that a recent Chomu announcement referrred to this book as a ‘butterfly’. Could the front cover be intended as the huge wings of a butterfly rather than the ‘concrete poem’ (cf the book’s flesh poems) or the Olympic torch ideas that I had been toying with? And that brings me back to the Intentional Fallacy (something I’ve been interested in since the 1960s)… (18 May 12 – 7.45 am bst)

14 ‘Grief (The Autobiography of a Tarantula)’, by Jesse Kennedy
Page 161 – 174: “…hauled continuously in the night through the tunnels beneath the earth…”
A tantalising spider’s view of philosophers’ and other writers’ sayings (“The living is merely a type of what is dead, and a very rare type.”) and occult philosophy: and of premature burial: and the spider’s view of itself and of its stowaway maritime exploits where it learns that human scars can be scried (scried as well as that earlier print on flesh?) and other matters. Reversions, mirrors reflecting mirrors - like the earlier imaginary friend’s imaginary friend? I’m seemingly halfway through this novella, so will keep my powder dry. But I am literally enthralled so far by my own mind’s ability to glide through the rarefied conceptual realms to which this spidery text seems to aspire. A realm where human physiognomy is a by-product of animal parthenogenesis. And restlessness is a precursor of existence itself. And it even gives this book a dirty yellow carpet now! And Antonin Artaud as one possible spider’s berth. (18 May 12 – 1.15 pm bst)
Page 175 – 194: Part II: The Discovery of Electricity Among the Dead – or – Looking Back
“To fly a hot air balloon beneath the earth!”
A retrocausal extrapolation from this story’s earlier essay in premature burial and spiderhood and philosophy, and we now meet real human characters who are part of the dead who are not living: living inside a role-play haunted house: combining resonances with Glen Hirshberg and Mark Danielewski, while briefly touching upon the Isis cosmotechniks with “the mesmerising anti-music of dead and bottomless time…” Involving a ”Trash Town” that incubates the symbiosis between insect life and the animal in humanity. Between stylised film and ad hoc reenactment. Decay and growth. Nothingness and something. Madness and sanity. Joy and grief. Life and Death. Evolving towards a true reality as a parthenogenesis from artifice alone. Trite to call the spiderification here Kafkaesque; treat it more as a complex cover for the cover’s “butterfly alighting on the air.” In the book’s front face of darkness, spider and butterfly surely feel the same when lightly touching your own face or physiognomy. Jesse Kennedy is an author’s name for which I shall now definitely keep an eye open and an open mind. (18 May 12 – 3.00 pm bst)

Butterfly alighting on the air” is quoted from Kennedy’s ‘Grief’, and seems to encapsulate both my theories about the cover! (18 May 12 – 6.20 pm bst)

15 ‘Orange Cuts’, by Paul Jessup
“There wasn’t any fire.”
A relatively brief story that seems to echo much about the unrequited love of this book in all its aspects: coupled with the relentlessly onward connection of events by coincidence or destiny, some events dire (eg a shooting of one’s sister), some just irritating bordering on life-changing in a very negative way (eg losing a job amid a recession), some third parties’ tragedies (eg as seen on the TV), but all closer to home as we are all now connected not only by simply being human but also soon by knowing everyone else (exponentially) either from a common coincidental or fated past or, say, on Fatebook (which is launching all our faces on the Nasdaq market for billions of dollars today amid all the job cuts most of us face): and we only have the electronic orange fire linking between figurative torches to keep us ‘safe’ … and sane? Until, even, that orange is just another desiccated fruit in an otherwise empty fridge or a mindless harvest moon in the unreachable sky. This story and its context made me think all those things. It’s a good story even if it didn’t intend to make me think those things. Each reader takes his or her own cut of meaning. (18 May 12 – 6.40 pm bst)

Perhaps the cover is a Face after all – a long-nosed facebook thing akin to a Venetian blind mask? (19 May 12 – 9.00 am bst)


16 ‘Instance’, by John Cairns

17 ‘Kago Ai’, by Ralph Doege

18 ‘Fighting Back’, by Rhys Hughes

19 ‘Nowhere Room’, by Kristine Ong Muslim

20 ‘Koda Kumi’, a Justin Isis re-mix of ‘Italiannetto’ by Quentin S. Crisp

21 ‘The Lobster Kaleidoscope’, by Julie Sokolow

22 ‘The Eaten Boy’, by Nick Jackson

23 ‘Poppies’, by Megan Lee Beals

24 ‘Abra Raven’, by D.F. Lewis

25 ‘Pissing in Barbican Lake’, by Jeremy Reed

26 ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicides’, by Jeremy Reed


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