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ghostinthelibrarywrites · 3 months ago

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Like the slumber that creeps to me

My first fic for @painlandweek has been posted! You can either read the first few scenes below or find the whole thing here on AO3.

Prompt: Sickfic

Length: 13.5K words

Rating: T

Warnings: none

Summary: While on a case, Charles falls victim to a cursed necklace that causes everyone who touches it to sicken and die. While his friends frantically search for a way to break the curse, a weakening Charles has plenty of time to think about his feelings for his best mate.

Excerpt:

“I fear that I will never understand the living,” Edwin says as they climb the seven flights of stairs to their office on the top floor. He hasn’t groused about not being able to mirror travel with Crystal tagging along once, which tells Charles how off-kilter tonight’s case left him. “They hear about Hell, renowned for being the worst place in existence, and they think, ‘perhaps I should create something just like that and keep it in my pantry.’ Honestly.”

“I don’t think you can blame that on the sorcerer being living,” Crystal says acidly. She doesn’t sound even a little out of breath; she’s acclimating to this climb. “You can blame it on him being a toxic douchebag who wanted to punish his enemies so badly he couldn’t wait for Hell to do it.”

“And now he’s a toxic douchebag stuck in a pocket dimension of his own making, isn’t he?” Charles probably should feel a little bad about trapping the sorcerer in the fire and brimstone hellscape in his pantry, but the way he sees it, he was an evil cunt who had it coming. Russell Mathers had been a surprisingly powerful, if self-taught, sorcerer and he’d used all that power to enact revenge on his enemies. Except, he’d had a very loose definition of what made an enemy: his victims ranged from an academic rival to a colleague that had spurned his advances to the twelve-year-old neighbor boy that trod on his lawn one too many times.

It had been the twelve year old’s spirit who had brought them the case, sobbing in their office about having escaped from the fires of Hell. Edwin’s hands shook for the rest of the day and for that alone, Charles couldn’t feel too bad for closing the door to the pocket dimension in Mathers’s smug fucking face.

“Anyway, it’s done with.” Charles pushes the memories of the raging inferno of hellfire inside the dimension away. He’s been trying real hard not to “keep things bottled up,” like Crystal accused him of doing, since Port Townsend, but this is one thing he thinks he can bottle up for now. “Sorcerer can’t hurt anyone anymore, his victims are avenged, and your wards should stop anyone else from wandering in, Edwin. Case closed.”

“Job officially jobbed,” Crystal and Edwin say at the same time, then look at each other suspiciously. Charles grins down at them. It’s adorable how surprised they both are by the fact that they’re friends now.

“And now I think we’ve earned a break, yeah?” Charles pushes open the door of the office and finds the Night Nurse standing there, standing with her arms folded over her chest and a narrow-eyed look like she’s just caught them out past curfew.

“Evening, Charlie,” Charles says brightly, just to see her eye twitch. Look, he’s mostly forgiven her for cornering him and Edwin in Port Townsend and accidentally getting Edwin sent to Hell, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think he’s earned the right to needle her a bit.

“You’re finally back. I was starting to think you were out… gallivanting.” She says “gallivanting” in the same tone she might accuse them of attending a drug-fueled orgy.

“Oh yeah, loads of gallivanting.” Charles props his elbow on Edwin’s shoulder. “Right, Edwin? We gallivanted right into a sorcerer’s house, where we saved the latest girl he’d tossed into a pocket dimension full of hellfire.”

“And kicked him in for good measure,” Crystal adds.

Charles nods. “It was a real good time. You should have been there, Charlie.”

“You would have loved the pocket dimension.” Crystal smiles in a way that suggests she would have dropkicked the Night Nurse in herself, given half the chance. Charles and Edwin may have mostly forgiven the Night Nurse for Port Townsend, but Crystal never will. She doesn’t take people fucking with Charles or Edwin kindly. Charles finds himself smiling at her dopily and has to turn away. He catches Edwin shooting Crystal a fond look and finds himself smiling dopily at his best mate instead, which isn’t any better.

“Well, now that you’re back, there’s another case,” the Night Nurse says huffily. “And she’s been waiting for hours.”

“Already?” Charles was about to suggest a night of playing Cluedo and not thinking about any fire and brimstone pocket dimensions. “We just got back.”

She glares at him. “Death waits for no one, young man. If you wanted leisure, you should have moved on to your tranquil afterlife.”

Charles grins at her. “And miss your smiling face? Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Edwin steps forward with an exasperated sigh, though Charles isn’t sure which of them his exasperation is aimed at. “Who is the client?”

***

Miss Paula Morris appears to be somewhere between forty and fifty, with a cloud of long, silvery blond hair, horn-rimmed glasses, and dangling earrings shaped like goldfish. She doesn’t appear to be a madwoman, but that seems to be the only explanation for the story she’s telling them.

“So, your beau knew the necklace was cursed when he gave it to you?” Edwin stares at her across the desk, pen poised over his notebook. The living—or in her case, the very recently living—continue to confound him. “And you accepted the gift? Willingly?”

“Oh, yes.” Miss Morris smiles a little sadly. “Raymond knew how much I like spooky stuff. He was always doing thoughtful things like that.”

“Spooky stuff,” Edwin echoes.

“Oh, the usual things. Tarot decks, Ouija boards, cursed dolls.”

He suppresses a shudder. “And so he gave you a necklace that purportedly causes everyone who touches it to sicken and die within three days.”

“He said he found it on Ebay.”

Edwin turns to Crystal helplessly.

“It’s like an online auction house.” She pats him on the shoulder. “I’ll show you later.”

“Raymond didn’t think it would actually make me sick,” Miss Morris says. “Just like my cursed dolls didn’t actually put me in an eternal sleep.”

Edwin shudders again.

“So Raymond gave you the cursed necklace.” Charles leans forward, wearing that winning smile of his. “What happened next?”

Miss Morris’s smile dims. “The next day, he called me and said he felt like he was coming down with something. I felt fine until I was coming home from my book club that night and I started feeling faint. It just felt like the flu. I was tired, a little dizzy, and I had a fever. I couldn’t stop sleeping. Every time I talked to Raymond, he sounded terrible, and then he stopped taking my calls. Yesterday morning, I fell asleep and when I woke up last night, I was dead.”

Edwin gives her a moment to collect himself, cognizant of Charles and Crystal’s lectures on bedside manner. “And Raymond?” he asks after what he feels is a sensitive amount of time, at least ten seconds.

She sniffles. “Oh, he died right around the time I fell asleep. His daughter is the one who found my body when she came to tell me this morning. Otherwise, I don’t know how long I would have laid there.”

“And you’re sure it was the necklace?” Crystal asks.

“I don’t know what else it could have been. Raymond and I were both perfectly healthy up until the day after our date. Three days later, we were both dead.”

“Did he say anything about the seller?” Edwin asks quickly, because he can see Miss Morris is getting emotional.

She shakes her head. “Just that the necklace came from America.”

“Thank you.” Edwin jots that down in his notebook. “We typically do not carry out revenge missions and even if we did, the person who sold Raymond the necklace is most likely beyond revenge. If this necklace’s magic is as potent as you say, it’s safe to assume that they’re already dead.”

“What Edwin means to say.” Charles props himself on the desk, all easy charm. “Is what can we do to help you move on?”

Miss Morris smiles at him, because people are always smiling at Charles. “The necklace is still in my house and my sister and niece will be coming up tomorrow to go through my things. I don’t want them to find it and touch it. It’s a beautiful emerald necklace and green is their favorite color.. I’m afraid that if one of them finds it and takes it home…”

“That they’ll become victims of the curse too,” Crystal says when she trails off. “So you want us to break into your house and get the necklace?”

“Yes, please.” Miss Morris reaches up to toy with one of her earrings. “Allison and Maeve are my only family. I’ve already lost Raymond. I don’t want anything to happen to them.”

Edwin closes his notebook and exchanges looks with Charles and Crystal. It seems like a straightforward case, just the thing after the ugly business with Russell Mathers and his pocket dimension. The sorcerer was just the latest in a line of harrowing cases and Edwin knows his partners are starting to feel the strain. If all they have to do for Miss Morris is break into her home and steal a necklace before tomorrow, this should be a simple affair.

Charles nods and Edwin turns back to Miss Morris. “We’ll be happy to take your case, Miss Morris. But now, the matter of your payment.”

***

“Dear lord.” Edwin stares around Paula Morris’s house with the expression of someone who’s found himself back in the depths of Hell.

“Come on, mate.” Charles nudges him in the shoulder. “It’s not that bad.”

“It is that bad. How on earth are we supposed to find anything here? No wonder she can’t remember exactly where she left it. Amelia Earhardt’s lost plane is probably hidden somewhere among this rubbish.”

Paula Morris’s house seems like exactly the type of place that would belong to someone who’d fancy a cursed necklace as a gift from her boyfriend. It’s covered from wall to wall in stuff: old-timey portraits hanging on the walls, knick-knacks cluttering every surface, too much mismatched furniture for the small space. Charles kind of loves it, but he can see how it would overwhelm Edwin.

There’s a knock on the door behind them. “Are you going to let me in, or should I stand on a dead lady’s porch all night until the neighbors come over to see what I’m doing?”

“Sorry, Crystal.” Charles turns to let her in with an apologetic smile.

She looks around with a raised eyebrow. “Holy shit.”

“I know.” Edwin sighs. “It’s dreadful.”

“I don’t know, it’s kind of cute. Definitely fits Paula’s witchy vibe.”

“Should we expect to find a giant snake in the basement?” Edwin asks acidly, pressing on before anyone can answer. “We only have a few hours until Miss Morris’s relatives arrive, so we should start our hunt. Crystal, you take the kitchen and the powder room. Charles, you the living room and office. I’ll take the master bed and bath.”

Charles frowns. “You think it’s a good idea to split up? Splitting up on the last case almost got Crystal dragged into a pocket dimension.”

“I do not believe we have to worry about any pocket dimensions this time, Charles. The woman handled a cursed necklace on purpose. A magical mastermind she is not.”

“You know most people don’t really believe in curses, right?” Crystal says. “It’s the same reason little girls play Bloody Mary at sleepovers. They don’t actually expect a knife-wielding ghost to pop out of the mirror.”

“They should,” Edwin says. “Charles and I encountered Bloody Mary herself on a case in 1993. A very unpleasant woman.”

Charles shrugs. “She wasn’t that bad.”

“You only say that because she told you that you had a lovely smile before she tried to stab you.”

“I do have a pretty nice smile, don’t I?” Charles grins at him.

Edwin turns a bit pink around the ears. “She certainly thought so,” he says and turns on his heel, striding down the hall towards the bedroom.

Charles instantly feels awful. In the months since Port Townsend, he keeps finding himself saying shit like that without thinking. He doesn’t mean to tease Edwin or play with his feelings. But he can’t stop himself from testing the waters, seeing if Edwin still feels the way he did back then. They haven’t said a word about Edwin’s confession on the steps of Hell since they returned to London. It would almost seem like a hallucination his terrified mind conjured, if not for the fact that every detail still plays in vivid color in his head every time he has five minutes to himself to think.

He doesn’t want to hurt Edwin. He’d rather cut off his own hand than ever make Edwin doubt he’s the center of Charles’s universe. So Charles doesn’t know why he can’t stop trying to see if he can make Edwin blush.

“Guess we’re splitting up.” Crystal gives Charles a look that’s a bit too knowing, then picks something off the kitchen table.

“Don’t pick up any necklaces,” Charles tells her as he heads towards the master bedroom.

“Thanks, Charles, I was definitely going to pick up every cursed necklace I find. How else would I want to spend my weekend, except dying slowly of a magical illness?”

Charles doesn’t know why he surrounds himself with so many adorable, brilliant smartasses. He goes into the living room to poke around a bit. He doesn’t see any necklaces, though he does find a half dozen half-drunk mugs of tea, several lost earrings in between the couch cushions, and a crystal ball that he slips into his backpack to give to Crystal for her birthday because she’ll hate it. He’s checking under the couch when he hears a sound he’s been constantly listening for since Port Townsend: Edwin’s terrified scream.

Charles phases through the wall in an instant, cricket bat already drawn and ready to go. But he doesn’t find a giant snake, a demon ready to drag Edwin to Hell, or even a mad sorcerer with a penchant for pocket dimensions. Instead, he finds Edwin standing in front of an open closet, grip on the door white-knuckled and eyes enormous. On the top shelf of the closet, there’s a row of glassy-eyed, chubby-cheeked baby dolls.

“Bloody hell, mate.” Charles puts his hand over his chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Apologies.” Edwin swallows hard as he steps back from the closet. “They just startled me. I’m being silly.”

“Nothing silly about it.” Charles looks at Edwin’s frozen expression, far too close to the one he wore while watching a demon made of baby dolls tear his body apart, then turns to the row of dolls. With a single swing of his cricket bat, he knocks the baby dolls over, sending them shattering to the hardwood floor. Bits of porcelain scatter everywhere and a single blue eye stares accusingly up at Charles. He crushes it under the heel of his boot.

“That was unnecessary,” Edwin says peevishly as Crystal comes skidding into the room.

“Are you both okay?” Crystal asks.

Edwin heaves a sigh. “We’re fine. Charles was feeling… dramatic.” But there’s a soft curve to his lips as he ducks his head and Charles feels his own lips curling into a smile in response. “You do realize one of those dolls was allegedly cursed, don’t you, Charles?”

Charles shrugs. “What are the chances Paula got her hands on two genuinely cursed objects?”

“I hope you’re right, because if we find ourselves haunted by a cursed baby doll, you and I will have words.” With one last glance at the heap of broken dolls, Edwin turns away.

Charles hesitates, not wanting to leave Edwin again, not so soon after hearing him scream. There may not have been any real danger, but there could have been. Looking around, he catches a glint of something green in the bathroom.

“Hold on.” Charles ducks into the loo and sure enough, there’s the necklace that Paula described, a gold chain with a pear-shaped emerald pendant, haloed by tiny diamonds. It sits on the counter next to the toothbrush holder, probably removed right before Paula went to bed the night she went out for a nice dinner with her boyfriend for the last time. “Found it!”

“Excellent work, Charles.” Edwin follows him into the bathroom, looking pleased, and Charles can’t help but feel the usual warm glow he gets whenever his friend tells him he’s done well.

“It was right out on the counter,” Charles says. “Not much detective work required, was it?”

“Still very well-spotted.” Edwin holds out a hand and Charles reaches into his bag to produce a magnifying glass. Edwin bends to examine the necklace closer. After a moment, he says, “I see no runes or other obvious signs of a curse, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. We can perform a closer examination back at the office.”

“Aces.” Charles reaches for the necklace.

Edwin grabs Charles’s wrist, his grip tight enough that Charles can almost feel warmth, like he’s a living boy with a living hand touching him. “Careful.”

Charles blinks down at Edwin’s elegant fingers, unsure why the sight of them gripping his wrist makes him feel strangely off-kilter. “What? This is what we’re here for, isn’t it?”

“That necklace has killed at least two people that we know of. Until we know more about this curse, caution is in order.”

“Right.” Charles looks up at him, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face. “Mate, I’ve got some bad news for you. You might want to sit down.”

Edwin rolls his eyes at the ceiling, like he knows what’s coming. “Charles—”

“See, I’ve been dead since 1989. You were there, remember?”

“It rings a bell,” Edwin says, clearly trying his hardest to look annoyed.

“And I know it might be a shock to learn your best mate of thirty-five years is a ghost—”

“Are you quite finished?”

Behind Edwin, Crystal snorts.

Edwin turns to glare at her. “Do not encourage him, Crystal, I beg you.”

“I hope we can still be friends.” Charles can’t quite suppress a giggle. Then Crystal starts to laugh and Charles can’t help it; he starts too.

“You are both insufferable,” Edwin tells them gravely. “Can we please get on with the case?”

“Got it, mate.” Charles snatches up the necklace. At Edwin’s incredulous look, he shrugs. “Should I have asked it nicely to get into my bag?”

“I was going to suggest using a towel.”

Oh, right. Charles hadn’t thought of that. He drops the necklace into his bag and flexes his hand. “I’m wearing gloves, aren’t I? Everything’s aces, mate.”

Edwin sighs. “Crystal, please remind me to discuss Charles’s impetuous behavior once we’ve seen Miss Morris off to her afterlife.”

“You say we need to discuss that at least once a week,” Crystal says. “Twice so far this week.”

“And this time, I mean it.” Edwin looks around the bathroom with an imperious air, probably judging the smears of toothpaste in the sink and the mismatched towels. “Now, let us please exit this den of chaos. I shudder to think what else is in here.”

***

“You really do need to be more careful, Charles.”

“Can’t lecture me during boxing lessons, mate. If you’re distracted, that means you get two lessons this week.”

“That was not part of the agreement.”

“I’m the teacher, aren’t I? Think it’s the agreement if I say it is.”

Edwin huffs. It’s just before dawn, Crystal is back at her flat with Niko, the Night Nurse is off doing whatever she does when she’s not assigning them new cases, and he and Charles have a rare moment of peace. A rare moment of peace that Charles has insisted on sullying with boxing lessons, of all things. After Port Townsend, Edwin reluctantly agreed to one boxing lesson per week. He doesn’t think knowing how to throw a punch would have helped him against Esther Finch, the Cat King, or a demon from Hell, but it seems to make Charles feel better.

“You should know by now that, ghost or not, curses are not something that we trifle with.” Edwin throws a punch, which Charles easily blocks. “Do we really need a repeat of the Case of the Cursed Mirror?”

“That curse targeted ghosts specifically, didn’t it? I’m not going to get the flu from a necklace.”

“And you know that for sure, do you? Researched the origins of this curse thoroughly?”

He throws another punch and the next thing he knows, Charles has grabbed his arm, spun him around, and has Edwin’s back pressed against his chest, grip firm but gentle on Edwin’s wrist, which is pinned between them.

“That’s the third right hook you’ve thrown in a row.” Charles’s voice is low in his ear, sending a shiver up his spine. “What have I said about being predictable?”

Edwin is having trouble remembering any conversation they’ve ever had. Charles’s hip is pressed against his backside and it’s absurdly distracting.

“Being predictable gives your opponent a chance to plan their next move. You don’t want that. That’s how you end up in trouble.”

Edwin swallows. “And then you come along with your bat and get me out of trouble.”

“And what if I’m not there?”

“You will be.”

With a sound that’s half-laugh, half-sigh, Charles releases him, letting Edwin turn to face him. “Wish you had enough faith in me when it comes to cursed necklaces as when it comes to fighting.”

Edwin rubs his wrist, even though it doesn’t hurt a bit. Even if he were a human whose wrists could be bruised or broken, Charles would never be so careless with him. “And I wish you cared about your own safety half as much as you care about mine.”

“Not possible.” Charles’s eyes go soft. “I’d never get anything done, would I? I’d be too busy worrying.”

Edwin’s nonexistent breath seems to stutter in his chest. He doesn’t know what on earth he’s supposed to say to that. But before he can think of a reply, Charles steps back, stumbling over nothing and grimacing as he rights himself.

“Charles?” Edwin reaches out, ready to steady him if necessary. “Are you quite alright?”

“I’m fine, mate.” Charles flashes him one of those brilliant grins of his. “Just lost my balance.”

“If you’re not feeling well—”

“Oh, no, you’re not getting out of this so easy.” Charles raises his fists. “Try and hit me again. And if you throw another right hook, I’m tying that hand behind your back.”

***

“Charles, I think this is around where our client died, don’t you? It matches his description. The bend in the path, the pond, the bench.” A pause. “Charles?”

Charles blinks. “Yeah, mate?”

“Doesn’t this seem to be the place where our client died?” Edwin gestures to the park around them.

Charles looks down at the ground, half-expecting to see a chalk outline on the ground. But there wouldn’t be; their latest client is a middle-aged man who died of a heart attack during his morning jog, not a murder victim. There wouldn’t be a case at all, except that some prat stole the dead man’s watch, an heirloom inherited from his grandfather that he wants to pass onto his son, off his corpse.

“Seems like it,” Charles says when he realizes that Edwin’s waiting for an answer. “He mentioned the pond, yeah? And the ducks.”

Edwin pivots to face him, hands on his hips. “What on earth is going on with you today, Charles?”

“Me? Nothing at all. Just tired, is all.”

“Ghosts do not get tired.”

“We’ve worked ten cases in five days, Edwin. I was just hoping for a break after we found Paula’s necklace last night, wasn’t I?” Charles scrubs a hand over his face. His mind is filled with a kind of fog. It reminds him of the nights he would sneak out to go to concerts with his friends and still have to go to school the next morning, doing his best not to fall asleep during history class.

Edwin sniffs. “This is certainly a case that I can work on my own, if you’re not up to it.”

“Not going to leave you alone, mate. What if we’re dealing with a watch-stealing monster? Like that Fae we caught robbing houses in South Kensington?”

“I hardly think we’re going to run into another Fae with a penchant for stealing electronics.”

“I’m fine, mate.” Charles rolls his eyes up at the sky. “Let’s have a look around, yeah? Got to be at least one or two ghosts lurking around. Maybe one of them will have seen something.”

They do find a ghost, an old lady still sitting on the park bench where she died, probably around the same time as Edwin from the looks of her. She seems more interested in complaining about all the riff-raff in the park than answering any of their questions. Given the suspicious looks she gives Charles’s earring, he thinks she might consider him part of the riff-raff, so he lets Edwin take the lead.

It’s a beautiful day, late enough in the autumn that it’s bound to be one of the last beautiful days London gets for a while. Everyone seems to be out enjoying it; couples sit together on park benches, kids dart around the playground, a group of uni students are involved in a spirited, if amateur, game of rugby, joggers and dog walkers make their way along the path that encircles the pond.

As Charles watches, a little boy dashes away from the playground, shrieking and laughing. His father lumbers after him, growling with his arms stretched out like a monster’s. A year ago, Charles would have squelched the sadness he feels at the sight. Now, he lets himself feel all the grief, anger, and disappointment that he never got to play like that with his own dad, because he had never once felt secure in the knowledge that his dad wouldn’t hurt him when he caught him.

The little boy’s father catches him, scooping him up into his arms, and the boy’s delighted scream seems to pierce right through Charles’s brain. Charles winces. All of a sudden, all the noise of the park, which had been a pleasant background hum, seems too loud. Kids laughing, parents calling out to their children, ducks quacking, the good-natured shouting of the uni students, music blaring from the speakers of a passing car. It’s all too much, like a physical pressure squeezing Charles’s head.

“Charles?”

Charles turns to find Edwin standing there, brow pinched in concern. The old woman has gone back to scolding passing children who can’t hear or see her.

“Charles, are you alright?” Edwin asks.

“Yeah, mate.” Charles grins at him. Should the sun be that bright? It like he can almost feel the heat beating down on his shoulders. He hasn’t felt the sun on his skin in decades.

Edwin’s eyes look startlingly green in the sunlight. They’re really nice eyes. Charles thinks he might tell him that, but everything is so loud around them and he’s not sure if the words come out. Edwin’s mouth is moving, that furrow in his brow deepening. Dark spots are starting to dance across Charles’s vision, but that’s alright, because he can still see Edwin’s eyes.

“I’m aces,” Charles tells Edwin, because he looks worried, right before the ground seems to shift under him and he’s falling, falling, falling…

***

Read the rest here on AO3!

#dead boy detectives #dbda #payneland #painland week #edwin payne #charles rowland #ghost's fic #ghost's writing

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66sharkteeth · 9 months ago

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All the relevant character's full names

Because i see them spelled just a letter or two off so often in tags or other blogs, so just if anyone wants a full list of the official, canon spellings: Rex Kelman Mikiah Kelman Vallory Kelman Derek Kelman Shnee Desmond Gray Elyssabeth (Lyss) Martella Bag Girl/Bell Simon (Jericho) Maddox Martin Maddox Claude Kastner Nia Bordeaux Lawrence Bordeaux Gabriel Finzé Luis Martella Charles (Charlie) J. Mathers Stella Kingly Jay (No last name mentioned) Minnie (No last name mentioned) Marco (No last name mentioned) Rosie Perez Antonella Lauro

#city of blank #just an fyi for those interested #i dont rly care about misspellings except for schnee personally #that one will always annoy me #but i see stuff like claude castner or stella kingsley a lot #so just putting a full list here!

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letters2fiction · 9 months ago

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Welcome to Letters2fiction!

The concept here is to send in a question or a letter request, and you’ll get a response from your fictional character of choice, from the list below. Please stick to the list I’ve made, but of course, you can ask if there’s some other characters I write for, I don’t always remember all the shows, movies or books I’ve consumed over the years and I’m sure I’m missing a lot 😅

Status: New Characters added - Thursday March 21st, 2024

TV SERIES

A Discovery of Witches:

Matthew Clairmont

Baldwin Montclair

Gallowglass de Clermont

Marcus Whitmore

Philippe de Clermont

Jack Blackfriars

Sarah Bishop

Emily Mather

Diana Bishop

Ysabeau de Clermont

Miriam Shepard

Phoebe Taylor

Gerbert D’Aurillac

Peter Knox

Father Andrew Hubbard

Benjamin Fuchs

Satu Järvinen

Meridiana

Law and Order:

Rafael Barba

Sonny Carisi

Joe Velasco

Mike Duarte

Terry Bruno

Peter Stone

Hasim Khaldun

Nick Amaro NEW!

Mike Dodds

Grace Muncy

Kat Tamin

Toni Churlish

Amanda Rollins

Olivia Benson

Rita Calhoun

Casey Novak

Melinda Warner

George Huang

Sam Maroun

Nolan Price

Jamie Whelan

Bobby Reyes

Jet Slootmaekers

Ayanna Bell

Jack McCoy

Elliot Stabler

One Chicago:

Jay Halstead (Could also be Will if you want)

Antonio Dawson

Adam Ruzek

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz

Dante Torres

Vanessa Rojas

Kevin Atwater

Sean Roman

Matt Casey

Kelly Severide

Joe Cruz

Sylvie Brett

Blake Gallo

Christopher Hermann

"Mouch"

Otis

Violet Mikami

Evan Hawkins

Mayans MC:

Angel Reyes

Miguel

Bishop

Coco

Nestor

911 verse:

Athena Grant

Bobby Nash

Henrietta "Hen" Wilson

Evan "Buck" Buckley

Eddie Diaz

Howie "Chimney" Han

Ravi Panikkar

T.K. Strand

Owen Strand

Carlos Reyes

Marjan Marwani

Paul Strickland

Tommy Vega

Judson "Judd" Ryder

Grace Ryder

Nancy Gillian

Mateo Chavez

The Rookie:

Lucy Chen

Tim Bradford

Celina Juarez

Aaron Thorsen

Nyla Harper

Angela Lopez

Wesley Evers

BBC Sherlock:

Greg Lestrade

Mycroft Holmes

Sherlock Holmes

Moriarty

Molly

Bridgerton:

Anthony Bridgerton

Benedict Bridgerton

Simon Basset

Daphne Bridgerton

Eloise Bridgerton

Kate Sharma

Edwina Sharma

Marina Thompson/Crane

Outlander:

Jamie Fraser

Claire Beauchamp Randall Fraser

Frank Randall

Black Jack Randall

Brianna Fraser

Roger MacKenzie

Fergus Fraser

Marsali Fraser

Jenny Fraser Murray

Ian Murray Sr.

Ian Fraser Murray

Murtagh Mackenzie

Call The Midwife:

Shelagh Turner / Sister Bernadette

Dr. Patrick Turner

Nurse Trixie Franklin

Nurse Phyllis Crane

Lucille Anderson

Nurse Barbara Gilbert

Chummy

Sister Hilda

Miss Higgins

PC Peter Noakes

Reverend Tom Hereward NEW!

Narcos:

Horacio Carrillo

Peaky Blinders:

Tommy Shelby

Downton Abbey:

Robert Crawley, Earl of Grantham

Cora Crawley, Countess of Grantham

Lady Mary Crawley

Lady Edith Crawley

Lady Sybil Crawley

Violet Crawley, Dowager Countess of Grantham

Isobel Crawley

Matthew Crawley

Lady Rose MacClare

Lady Rosamund Painswick

Henry Talbot

Tom Branson

Mr. Charles Carson

Mrs. Hughes / Elsie May Carson

John Bates

Anna Bates

Daisy Mason

Thomas Barrow

Joseph Molesley

Land Girl:

Connie Carter

Reverend Henry Jameson (Gwilym Lee's version)

Midsomer Murder:

DCI Tom Barnaby

Joyce Barnaby

Dr. George Bullard

DCI John Barnaby

Sarah Barnaby

DS Ben Jones

DS Jamie Winter

Sgt. Gavin Troy

Fleur Perkins

WPC Gail Stephens

Kate Wilding

DS Charlie Nelson

Sergeant Dan Scott

NEW! Once Upon A Time

Regina / The Evil Queen

Mary Margaret Blanchard / Snow White

David Nolan / Prince Charming

Emma Swan

Killian Jones / Captain Hook

Mr. Gold / Rumplestiltskin

Neal Cassidy / Baelfire

Peter Pan

Sheriff Graham Humbert / The Huntsman

Jefferson / The Mad Hatter

Belle

Robin of Locksley / Robin Hood

Will Scarlet

Zelena / Wicked Witch

Alice (Once in Wonderland)

Cyrus (Once in Wonderland)

Jafar (Once in Wonderland)

Gideon

Tiger Lily

Naveen

Tiana

Granny

Ariel

Prince Eric

Aladdin

Jasmine

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Hercules

Megara

Tinker Bell

Merida

Red Riding Hood

Mulan

Aurora / Sleeping Beauty

Prince Phillip

Cinderella

Prince Thomas

NEW! The Vampire Diaries / The Originals

Stefan Salvatore

Damon Salvatore

Caroline Forbes

Elena Gilbert

Bonnie Bennett

Enzo St. John

Niklaus Mikaelson

Elijah Mikaelson

Kol Mikaelson

Rebekah Mikaelson

Freya Mikaelson

Finn Mikaelson

Mikael

Esther

Marcel Gerard

Davina Claire

MOVIES

The Pirates of the Caribbean:

Captain Jack Sparrow

Barbossa

Will Turner

Elizabeth Swann

James Norrington

Kingsman:

Merlin

Harry Hart

Eggsy Unwin

James Spencer / Lancelot

Alastair / Percival

Roxy Morton / Lancelot

Maximillian Morton / The Shepherd

Orlando Oxford

Jack Daniels / Whiskey

Gin

BOOKS

Dreamland Billionaire series - Lauren Asher:

Declan

Callahan

Rowan

Iris

Alana

Zahra

Dirty Air series - Lauren Asher:

Noah

Liam

Jax

Santiago

Maya

Sophie

Elena

Chloe

Ladies in Stem - Ali Hazelwood books:

Olive

Adam

Bee

Levi

Elsie

Jack

Mara

Liam

Sadie

Erik

Hannah

Ian

Fourth Wing - Rebecca Yarros:

Xaden Riorson

Dain Aetos

Jack Barlowe

Rhiannan Matthias

Violet Sorrengail

Mira Sorrengail

Lillith Sorrengail

Bodhi Durran

Liam Mairi

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stained-glass-cicada · 1 year ago

Text

I just figured out what it is about Ghost Wax that gets me every time because I read and listen to a lot of horror but Ghost Wax is scary every fuckin time, even on relistens I get freaked out

They aren't stupid

These aren't people treading disrespectfully into realms they dont belong in or ignoring their own good sense to chase curiosity or revenge or power

When they do make direct choices that lead to their deaths its usually because they need something

I was thinking about it while Marcus Hanesley was talking in Midnight Snacks because he fucking stopped

He stopped delivering when it really did get too weird

But he needed the money and he sold his life for a thousand dollars

And Charlie or CC, she deleted the dating app when it seemed sketch

Liam Mathers was wrong about Jinx obviously because Jinx is a very good boy but in fairness that cat was being very creepy and he locked that weird talking cat far away from him when he thought Jinx was dangerous

Zane in disintegrate knew right away that he needed to Leave town or something because that wall was going to kill him

They aren't assholes who think they're tough and intentionally egg on the supernatural

They're people making decisions that you understand and that's So Much Scarier

#lol sorry for the ramble #ghost wax

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tanema123 · 7 months ago

Note

HTTYD AU

Lucifer: This is the girl you want to date? *Points at the dragon raised, possibly slightly feral, Vaggie eating a raw fish with her sisters*

Charlie: *With the most smitten, and lovestruck look* Yeah, isn't she amazing.

I wish I could implement this... Damn my au ideas. Maybe as an alternative.

There is plot hole because of which I simply can't implement this, no Mather how much I try.... But I may draw it for you if you want. Outside of au.

I did it.

#hazbin hotel #vivziepop #fanart #hazbin au #alternative universe #alternative universe hazbin #art #chaggie #charlie morningstar #vaggie #lucifer mornigstar #dragon au #httyd au #httyd #questions

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shallowseeker · 9 months ago

Note

okay so, yesterday I found your spn meta by chance and fell in love with them 'cause more than writing they're like images, like they really depict things and I just immediately understand what you mean instantly + I started to rewatch Steve Yockey's episodes 'cause I feel like I like his writing (lots of queer! lots of rom-com references! but it's all done so intellingently, I love it!) but ALSO sometimes it doesn't translate to me + I just saw you wrote about "Optimism"= I GOTTA ASK: what's your take on "Optimism"? I don't understand what the Zombie story and the Musca one should reveal about the characters. Visually, it looks like the Musca = Charlie, so Harper and the zombie are ??? I'm mad at myself 'cause I don't seem to get what the show is telling me so I'm hoping you can share what the show tells YOU and, vicariously, I can get it as well (lol). THANK YOU!

Hi! Hello!

Oh, really? That's so cool. I still have trouble thinking of myself as a "meta writer." I don't mean to be. I just like to ramble. But cool! It's probably mostly that we think alike and are sympatico in some key ways. :-) Always fun to find kindred spirits!

///

O P T I M I S M

I have so many thoughts on Optimism. It's one of my fave episodes! I actually did a re-watch-slash-convo with some friends on Discord and just transcribed the very, very, very LOOONG bulk of it today!

I haven't written much on the Musca. After spending a lot of time of @scoobydoodean's blog, I've just about decided the Musca plot is actually a Sam's emotions-through line more than it is a true dark mirror. Even AU Charlie is cheeky about it:

AU CHARLIE (annoyed at Sam, about the Musca): Your nifty metaphor has holes.

Basically, Charlie is saying that mirrors aren't one-to-one, and that trying to force-fit them into being one-to-one can be super annoying sometimes.

CHARLIE - Every two hundred years there is "bad egg". When a male fails to find a mate, he abandons his community and starts using peoples bodies to "nest". Binding them together with a viscous goo. And when the goo fits...

The Musca/fly is at face-value:

A) A bodysnatcher plot: In that regard, it could be like all angels, demons, or anyone inhabiting a body. (Cas, Lucifer, Michael, Crowley, etc.) Ergo, it's a dark, uncharitable Cas mirror the way Dave Mathers outlaw wraith was in Tombstone. It could be saying that Cas "failed" among "his own people" and cruelly took up space in a human body. But that would be grossly oversimplifying the whole situation, saying that Cas "should have stayed with his people," which ofc doesn't work.

It, as Charlie says, "has a lot of holes." @ilarual has written a lot about the totalitarian structure of Heaven. And Sam himself wants Cas around. As far as metaphors go, it's a dud for Cas.

B) It's a failure to thrive plot: Because the Musca "failed" in The Real World with its Own People, perhaps failed to live up to The prescriptive Dream of Success (TM), now it's wreaking havoc on others.

Sam himself "failed out" of Harvard. He "choked." Kevin Train and Patience Turner are also Failed Gifted Students. Losers who didn't live up to their potential. This could even apply to Chuck, binding together his characters because he's a Loser with a capital L.

///

ANYWAY, I feel like the Music plot is a "red herring" for a few reasons.

One: The main Harper plot is about breaking narratives, about not relying so much on books. And then Charlie says this:

CHARLIE: Goo. So, yeah. I'd say this is the right place. Now, I'm just trying to figure out what we are dealing with. Thus, books.

Aside: Later Cas says sarcastically in Ouroboros that Sam and Rowena, "Have many, many books."

So, there's this niggling indictment of trying to find too much truth in books...

///

Two: Sam has a tendency to see something and, like, imprint on it. He tends to fall into "It's just like me!" instead of speaking frankly about the present situations and emotions.

*In American Nightmare, he sees Madga Peterson, an abused child* -> "She's just like me!"

*In Somewhere in Between Heaven and Hell, he sees someone lying about something completely unrelated to his current situation* ->"Omg, they're lying to them, like I'm lying to Dean! It's just like me!"

*In Lost & Found, he meets Jack Kline, who is Lucifer's son "OMG, he's just like me!" -> *spoiler alert* Jack is not in fact much like Sam at all. -> Sidenote: instead of speaking frankly about how Dean is grieving, how Lucifer killed Cas and likely killed Mary, he uses complex euphemisms with Jack, ones that actually obscure the reality of the situation! This winds up annoying Jack and making him pull away from Sam.

///

IMHO...Sam isn't...naturally all that great with emotions.

He tries really, really hard, and he loves patterns, but he's always seeming to force-fit situations and scenarios into neat little boxes so he can passively-aggressively use it to indirectly communicate something he feels about himself.

He has a very cognitive empathy style. Bless him.

///

So what's REALLY going on here?

Well. In this episode, he wants Charlie to stay. He wants Charlie to stay and fill a void the other Charlie left behind. He wants Charlie to stay really, really badly. And he beats around the bush about it.

At first, he sidesteps his own emotions by passive-aggressively implying that it's Dean that in fact needs her.

CHARLIE: He'll be fine. Your brother, I mean. He's got other friends, right? SAM: Plenty. Uhm, he used to have a pretty damn good wingman. CHARLIE: So call that guy to check on him. SAM: That guy was you. CHARLIE: No, it wasn't. SAM: Right, I, uh, sorry. I didn't mean that.

And then by trying to make the case fit her.

He's very indirect and weird about it. Because he's Sam. (It's a contrast to the effortless, awkward-but-honest communication style we see from characters like Jack and Dean in this very episode.)

SAM: Charlie, you can't just quit and go live on a mountain somewhere. People need people. CHARLIE: Why? Cause they're the luckiest people in the world? SAM: Look, come on. We just do. We're social animals. CHARLIE: Emphasis on animals. SAM: Yeah, but you're also a hunter. The things that we've seen, it's not so easy to just walk away from it all. Believe me, I've tried. Our Charlie tried. CHARLIE: Yeah, well again, she ain't me. It's my life, Sam. Not hers. And not yours.

Ah, yes. Instead of saying, “I want you here,” it’s, “people need people.”

And Hell, sometimes indirect communication works! Like how Dean and Cas use Felix the snake to indirectly communicate with Jack in Peace of Mind!

But the difference with Sam is...he's not using this indirect communication style to find out how Charlie feels (the way Dean and Cas use the snake to suss out how Jack feels).

No, he's using the whole thing to try to tell Charlie what he thinks is best for her! To tell her things, not find out things.

Eventually, he breaks and says what he actually thinks, but only after AU Charlie is starting to lose her patience with him:

SAM (faux-sadly): Got to say, I do feel kind of bad for the Musca. I mean, he could have been happy if he'd stayed with his people. Didn't have to go off on his own just because... CHARLIE (exasperated): Okay, I get it. I am just like the bug and I shouldn't go out on my own.

OMG, Sammy! It's okay if we want to hit Sam sometimes, right? I too wanted to hit him after he said this to Charlie.

CHALIE: But your nifty metaphor has holes. I wasn't looking for love. I found it and I lost it. And I didn't kill people and literally nest in their body parts so...(Scene cuts to other Musca removing the body of the dead one) SAM: Okay, yeah I know, I know, How about this? Don't leave.

(Aside// I think this is a cheeky nod to the fact that Cas and Dean weren't looking for love either. In fact, they tried (and keep trying) really, really hard not to love each other. Their real life was faaaar more complicated than some simple "bodysnatcher plot.")

But thank God--Sam finally says outright what he needed to say to Charlie: Don't leave.

Now, it probably would've been better if he's gone a step further: "I don't want you to leave," but for Sam, this is pretty good progress.

SAM: Hear me out. Sure some people can do bad things when they're desperate or scared. But the guy we just saved, he has a wife and children. I'm not saying that all people are good people or even that most people are but if we help people then maybe they'll help people and all that. And that's worth it. Even with all the tears and death. It's worth it. CHARLIE: Just to be super clear, I am not like the fly monster. (Sam chuckles) But, I'll think about staying.

So I think OVERALL the Musca plot is really about highlighting Sam's difficult communication style, and I think it's intentionally being cheeky about it how it's using a "really "dumb metaphor" with gaping holes!

It's about how Sam tries to force-fit the case of the week into saying what he wants it to say...instead of just saying it.

///

I think Sam has a little bit of a "mental main character syndrome." He sees a scenario and moves directly into cognitive empathy, reading the situation and thinking:

How can I apply this to myself? Or make it a stand-in for either something I want to believe about myself or a stand-in for something I want to say indirectly?

Sometimes you'll see ppl insist that Sam is the "MC" because every storyline tells you "something about Sam." But I'm more in the camp that it's Sam's inherent cognitive style of empathy at work, desperately reworking anything and everything to make it apply to himself.

Whereas Cas and Dean (and Jack) have a truer emotional style of empathy, connecting with people for who they actually are, as they are.

That's not to say that both styles can't be manipulative when we want them to be. But Sam really struggles with his style in a way I feel like Dean and Cas do not. Dean and Cas perhaps don't even realize what effective communicators they actually are!

///

My other thoughts on Optimism:

#asks #sam stuff #spn optimism #harper sayles #jack stuff #jack kline #spn season 14 #spn 14x06 #spn steve yockey #jack relationships

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bracketsoffear · 3 months ago

Text

Spiral Leitner Reading List

The full list of submissions for the Spiral Leitner bracket. Bold titles are ones which were accepted to appear in the bracket. Synopses and propaganda can be found below the cut. Be warned, however, that these may contain spoilers!

Abbott, Edwin Abbott: Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions Amato, Mary: The Word Eater

Barker, Clive: Abarat Basye, Dale E.: Fibble Borges, Jorge Luis: Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius

Calvino, Italo: If on a winter’s night a traveler Carroll, Emily: A Guest in the House Carroll, Lewis: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland/ Through the Looking Glass and what Alice found there Chambers, Robert W.: The King in Yellow Coltrane, John: Giant Steps Cortázar, Julio: Rayuela (Hopscotch) Cutter, Nick: The Deep

Dahl, Roald: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Danielewski, Mark Z.: House of Leaves de Cervantes, Miguel: Don Quixote DeLaney, Samuel R.: Babel-17

Eliot, T.S.: The Waste Land Ewing, Frederick R.: I, Libertine

Gaiman, Neil: Neverwhere Gilman, Charlotte Perkins: The Yellow Wallpaper

Hall, Steven: The Raw Shark Texts Hamilton, Patrick: Angel Street/Gas Light Hawke, Marcus: Grey Noise Hodgson, William Hope: The House on the Borderlands Hunter, Erin: Warriors

Ito, Junji: Uzumaki

Joyce, James: Finnegans Wake Juster, Norton: The Phantom Tollbooth

Kte'pi, Bill: The Cheshire

Lovecraft, H.P.: The Color Out of Space Lyons, Steve: The Stealers of Dreams

Mathers, Edward Powys: Cain’s Jawbone Mearns, William Hughes: Antigonish Miles, Lawrence et. al.: The Book of the War Morrison, Grant: Doom Patrol Moore, Christopher: Sacré Bleu: A Comedy d’Art Muir, Tamsyn: Harrow the Ninth

National Governors Association and Council of Chief State School Officers: Common Core Math Textbook Nikolson, Adam: Life between the tides

O’Brien, Flann: The Third Policeman Ogawa, Yoko: The Memory Police Orwell, George: Nineteen Eighty-Four

Pelevin, Victor: The Helmet of Horror Pratchett, Terry: Moving Pictures Pynchon, Thomas: The Crying of Lot 49

Ryukishi07: higurashi no naku koro ni (When The Evening Cicadas Cry)

Sachar, Louis: Wayside School Is Falling Down Schwartz, Alvin: "Maybe You Will Remember" (short story from Scary Stories 3: More Tales To Chill Your Bones) Serafini, Luigi: Codex Seraphinianus Shakespeare, William: A Midsummer Night's Dream Shakespeare, William: King Lear Shakespeare, William: The Winter's Tale Silberescher: SCP-1425: Star Signals Stine, R.L.: Don't Go to Sleep!

Unknown, Voynich Manuscript

Wells, H.G.: The Door in the Wall West, A.J.: The Spirit Engineer Whorf, Benjamin Lee: Relation of Habitual Thought and Behavior to Language Wyspiański, Stanisław: The Wedding

Abbott, Edwin Abbott: Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions

Both a satire on Victorian hierarchies and a mathematical examination of lower and higher dimensions, Flatland's narrator has strange dreams of a one-dimensional Lineland where he can only be seen as a series of points on a line. Following this, he meets A. Sphere, whom he in turn can only see as a circle, and is exposed to the three-dimensional space of Spaceland. When he returns home to try and explain what he has seen, he is thrown into an insane asylum.

Amato, Mary: The Word Eater

The titular Word Eater is a worm born with eyes and the magical ability to eat words instead of dirt, named Fip. Whenever Fip eats a word, the object or subject that word was referring to vanishes, at one point accidentally erasing a recently discovered star. When used on a subject, erasure removes any ontological effects, as when used on a torturous dog training method the dogs it was used on all suddenly become docile instead of vicious. The conflict of the story comes in the fact that words are the only thing Fip can eat, so keeping anything else from being erased becomes a matter of starving him. There's also some disgruntled students who almost use him to erase their school, with the protagonist worrying that the effect could abstractly extend to the staff and students, necessitating their thwarting.

Barker, Clive: Abarat

Candy lives in Chickentown USA: the most boring place in the world, her heart bursting for some clue as to what her future may hold. She is soon to find out: swept out of our world by a giant wave, she finds herself in another place entirely...

The Abarat: a vast archipelago where every island is a different hour of the day, from the sunlit wonders of Three in the Afternoon, where dragons roam, to the dark terrors of the island of Midnight, ruled by Christopher Carrion. (...)

Abarat is an extremely Spiral coded place working so differently from the real world and being extremely nonsensical that I think this book deserves to be the Spiral Leitner.

Basye, Dale E.: Fibble

"When Marlo Fauster claims she has switched souls with her brother, she gets sent straight to Fibble, the circle of Heck reserved for liars. But it’s true—Milton and Marlo have switched places, and Marlo finds herself trapped in Milton’s gross, gangly body. She also finds herself trapped in Fibble, a three-ring media circus run by none other than P. T. Barnum, an insane ringmaster with grandiose plans and giant, flaming pants. Meanwhile Milton, as Marlo, is working at the devil’s new television network, T.H.E.E.N.D. But there’s something strange about these new shows. Why do they all air at the same time? And are they really broadcasting to the Surface? Soon Milton and Marlo realize that they need each other to sort through the lies and possibly prevent the end of the world—if Bea “Elsa” Bubb doesn’t catch them first."

The Fauster twins are caught up in yet another apocalyptic scheme as hellish figures plot to stoke a ratings war into a holy war, using elaborate lies and propaganda to provoke the end of humanity itself.

Borges, Jorge Luis: Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius

A short story concerning the author and his friend stumbling upon a mention of the Uqbar region in an encyclopedia, a place which is found in no other literature. One of the myths of Uqbar concerns Tlön, a fantastical place where people do not believe in the reality of the material world, and only the most outre scholars would dare suggest that objects have permanence. Objects there "grow vague or sketchy and lose detail" when they begin to be forgotten, culminating in their disappearance when they are completely forgotten. One year later, Tlönian objects begin to appear in the real world. Then a complete encyclopedia of the world turns up, transforming the human understanding of science and philosophy. As the author writes his postscript, the world is transforming entirely into Tlön.

Calvino, Italo: If on a winter’s night a traveler

The postmodernist narrative, in the form of a frame story, is about the reader trying to read a book called If on a winter's night a traveler. Each chapter is divided into two sections. The first section of each chapter is in second person, and describes the process the reader goes through to attempt to read the next chapter of the book they are reading. The second half is the first part of a new book that the reader ("you") finds. The second half is always about something different from the previous ones.

Carroll, Emily: A Guest in the House

"After many lonely years, Abby’s just gotten married. She met her new husband—a recently widowed dentist—when he arrived in town with his young daughter, seeking a new start. Although it’s strange living in the shadow of her predecessor, Abby does her best to be a good wife and mother. But the more she learns about her new husband’s first wife, the more things don’t add up. And Abby starts to wonder . . . was Sheila’s death really by natural causes? As Abby sinks deeper into confusion, Sheila’s memory seems to become a force all its own, ensnaring Abby in a mystery that leaves her obsessed, fascinated, and desperately in love for the first time in her life"

While most riffs on the Bluebeard story are probably slaughter, buried, or eye aligned, much of the horror in this story is the uncertainty and loss of a clear sense of reality. Also the art of Sheila feels very spiral.

Carroll, Lewis: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland/ Through the Looking Glass and what Alice found there

Both books have a similar structure and are spiral for the same reasons: little Victorian child Alice founds herself in a strange world with rules vastly different from hers (for example, there’s no real geography and the scenery changes suddenly from one place to another very much like in a dream). The characters she crosses constantly defy her understanding of the world and applies logics she struggles to understand. Even though she ends up going with the flow most of the time she never ceases to question whether she’s experiencing real life or a dream; sanity is brought up a few times, and there’s also the popular quote "We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad", delivered by the grinning cat that appears and disappears like a slippery distortion. Lastly I may add that the TMA episode whose title references the book (Mag 177, Wonderland) is a spiral episode.

Chambers, Robert W.: The King in Yellow

A collection of short stories, most of which revolve around a fictional two-act play of the same title: The King in Yellow. Although the play is never described in any great detail, anyone who reads it is driven to madness.

Coltrane, John: Giant Steps

At first a reader simply sees the rapid changes, seemingly random and discordant. Further investigation will begin to reveal patterns, the chords begin to outline other chords, that in turn outline further chords, only to loop back to the beginning. A master or his craft, the creator can seemingly effortlessly navigate this fractal of potential sound. You, can only hope to keep up as the endless, rapidly twisting patterns give you no time to comprehend the page in front of you.

This is specifically against tournament rules, but I still wanted to at least give it a submission.

Cortázar, Julio: Rayuela (Hopscotch)

The story of two young writers whose lives are playing themselves out in Buenos Aires and Paris to the sounds of jazz and brilliant talk, Hopscotch, written in 1963, was the first hypertext novel. Anticipating the age of the web with a non-structure that allows readers to take the chapters in any order they wish, Hopscotch invites them to be the architects of the novel themselves.

Cutter, Nick: The Deep

A strange plague called the ‘Gets is decimating humanity on a global scale. It causes people to forget— Small things at first and eventually their bodies forget how to function involuntarily. There is no cure.

But far below the surface of the Pacific Ocean, a universal healer hailed as “ambrosia” has been discovered. In order to study this phenomenon, a special research lab has been built eight miles under the sea’s surface. But when the station goes incommunicado, a brave few descend through the lightless fathoms in hopes of unraveling the mysteries lurking at those crushing depths."

At first glance you might think this book is much more aligned to The Buried than The Spiral and while it does have a lot of claustrophobic elements, the true horror the protagonist (Luke) faces, comes from slowly losing your perception of reality. The relatively small laboratory soon becomes a labyrinth, as he moves from room to room he also moves through memories that become more and more vivid as time goes by. He has hallucinations, falls asleep and dreams of being awake while sleepwalks, he is chased by monsters that are very real and some that are just his own demons.

(spoilers) At the end we find out he and all the other people in the laboratory were lured by two ancient creatures trapped both at the bottom of the sea and another dimension and needed Luke's body to be free. The Figmen are tricksters, they enjoy doing "experiments" seeing how much a body can twist and what it takes to break a mind. The people inside the laboratory were little more that mice they wanted to see run around for their amusement before being freed

Dahl, Roald: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

I want off Mr. Wonka's wild ride. Why the fuck is this man dragging children through his acid trip pun-tastical Saw movie. OSHA get his ass

Danielewski, Mark Z.: House of Leaves

The novel is written as a work of epistolary fiction and metafiction focusing on a fictional documentary film titled the Navidson Record, presented as a story within a story discussed in a handwritten monograph recovered by the primary narrator, Johnny Truant. The narrative makes heavy use of multiperspectivity as Truant's footnotes chronicle his efforts to transcribe the manuscript, which itself reveals the Navidson Record's supposed narrative through transcriptions and analysis depicting a story of a family who discovers a larger-on-the-inside labyrinth in their house.

***

Come on, its the book that gaslights you. Some pages are literally typed in spirals. Its about a beautiful new house that breaks the laws of physics and also eats some people- Helen Richardson would be PROUD. Its a story in a story IN A STORY. The introduction of the book is about how the man annotating the manuscript of the documentary and his friend used to pick up girls by telling fantastical and false stories about their lives. Everyone in the books universe thinks the documentary was faked. What can i say that hasn't been said before? The “M” in Mark Z. Danielowki stands for “Mr. Michael Distortion”

***

I mean, look at the book. Look at it. I feel like I'm going mad every time I see its pages.

de Cervantes, Miguel: Don Quixote

After reading too many courtly romances, Quixote's perception of reality is warped, and he seeks to become a knight and restore the courtly chivalric graces. Also he thinks windmills are evil giants.

DeLaney, Samuel R.: Babel-17

Rydra Wong is a top linguist, acclaimed poet, and former military cryptologist. When the Alliance military come across a new code used by the enemy, which is beyond their ability to crack, they come to her for help. She informs them that it is not a mere code, but an actual language, and agrees to accept the challenge.

Quickly assembling a crew, Wong heads to the Alliance War Yards to study the raw data on this new language, which the military calls Babel-17. However, shortly after she arrives, an enemy attack forces her to flee in disarray, and she falls in with a privateer, who is, fortunately, on the Alliance side.

Or mostly so. On board the privateer's ship, she begins to learn more about Babel-17, and the surprising benefits and dangers it offers to someone who learns to speak it. The language literally twists the thought pattern of its speakers, making it easier to conceptualize certain ideas, but more difficult to translate your thoughts into anything others can understand.

Eliot, T.S.: The Waste Land

Here's a link to the text if anyone is curious

The Waste Land is a poem that describes a...place? state of mind? an arc of history?...in a series of fragments. It weaves together fractured dialogue, mythology, language, and popular culture of its day into a bizarre but beautiful landscape that defies easy explanation.

Ewing, Frederick R.: I, Libertine

New York Times Best Selling novel by acclaimed author, Frederick R. Ewing, “I, Libertine” tells the story of a social climber who styles himself as Lance Courtney.

I highly recommend those voting seek out the book to read for themselves, as it is truly one of the great works of modern American literature.

Gaiman, Neil: Neverwhere

"Under the streets of London there's a world most people could never even dream of. A city of monsters and saints, murderers and angels, knights in armour and pale girls in black velvet. "Neverwhere" is the London of the people who have fallen between the cracks. Strange destinies lie in wait in London below - a world that seems eerily familiar. But a world that is utterly bizarre, peopled by unearthly characters such as the Angel called Islington, the girl named Door, and the Earl who holds Court on a tube train. (...)"

Extremely weird world that unsuspecting civilian can be stuck in, and there is a door motive. This is a Spiral Leitner if I ever saw one.

Gilman, Charlotte Perkins: The Yellow Wallpaper

Link

From Wikipedia: "The story is written as a collection of journal entries narrated in the first person. The journal was written by a woman whose physician husband has rented an old mansion for the summer. Forgoing other rooms in the house, the couple moves into the upstairs nursery. As a form of treatment, the husband forbids the journal writer from working or writing, and encourages her to eat well and get plenty of air so that she can recuperate from what he calls a "temporary nervous depression – a slight hysterical tendency", a common diagnosis in women at the time. As the reader continues through the journal entries, they experience the writer's gradual descent into madness with nothing better to do than observe the peeling yellow wallpaper in her room.”

***

Epistolary novel about a woman who's being made to live in a single room to treat her post-partum depression. Over the course of the story, she becomes increasingly obsessed with the patterns of the room's wallpaper, spending hours gazing at it and trying to make sense of it. By the end of the story, she believes that there's a woman trapped in the wallpaper, or perhaps that she is the women trapped in the wallpaper. Throughout the story, she's also gaslit by her husband.

***

It's a short story and I highly recommend that you read it. Spoilers (of course) are ahead, so if you want an unspoiled experience, skip past.

This story follows the narrator, as she is locked up by her husband who cares for her and ultimately makes all decisions for her. He makes her doubt her state of mind as she suffers from a nervious disorder. As she stays in the ex-nursery attic, she writes of the horrendous yellow wallpaper. She becomes obsessive of it, watching it night and day amd watching as the colours change with the lighting of the room. She begins seeing a woman locked behind the twisting patterns, and in the end she becomes it - or it becomes her, and she has a hysteric breakdown.

Hall, Steven: The Raw Shark Texts

Eric Sanderson wakes up with no memory of who he is or any past experiences. He is told by a psychologist that he has a dissociative condition known as fugue but a trail of written clues purporting to be from his pre-amnesiac self describe a more fantastic and sinister explanation for his lack of memories. According to these, he has activated a conceptual shark called a Ludovician which "feeds on human memories and the intrinsic sense of self" and is relentlessly pursuing him and will eventually erase his personality completely.

Also at one point there's about 30 pages of an ASCII shark moving towards the reader. Could easily be interpreted as the Ludovician actually approaching the reader in a Leitner-ized version.

[SPOILERS] When the Ludovician attacks Eric, he decides to go in search of a doctor named Trey Fidorous, identified by the letters from his previous self, in the hope he may be able to help to explain what happened to him and how to defeat the shark. Eric travels through Britain in search of clues and is contacted by a mysterious figure called Mr. Nobody, who is part of a megalomaniac network intelligence called Mycroft Ward. Mr. Nobody attempts to subdue and control Eric but Eric manages to escape with the help of an associate of Fidorous named Scout. Scout takes Eric to meet Fidorous, travelling through un-space (an underground network of empty warehouses and unused cellars). They begin a romantic relationship during the journey but Eric feels betrayed when he discovers that Scout has brought him to Fidorous to use him as bait for the shark in the hope of destroying Ward.

With their help Fidorous builds a conceptual shark-hunting boat and they sail out on a conceptual ocean. After a battle with the shark they throw a laptop hooked up to the Mycroft Ward database into its mouth, destroying both Ward and the shark. Eric and Scout remain in the conceptual universe while Eric's dead body is discovered back in the real world.

Hamilton, Patrick: Angel Street/Gas Light

Under the guise of kindness, Jack Manningham is slowly torturing his fragile wife Bella into insanity in his efforts to cover his search for treasure from his diabolical past. He makes her think she is forgetting things and rattles her nerves with the flickering gaslight, which he controls from another room. One day, when Jack is out, Bella has an unexpected caller: kindly Inspector Rough from Scotland Yard. Rough is convinced that Jack is a homicidal maniac wanted for a murder committed fifteen years earlier in this very house. Gradually the Inspector restores Bella's confidence in herself and as the evidence against Jack unfolds.

The play that inspired the movie 1994 "Gaslight" which brought the term "gaslighting" into the public eye.

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The literal origins of the term "gaslighting," the play follows the recently-married protagonist as her husband tries to convince her that she's going mad.

Hawke, Marcus: Grey Noise

Evan is just trying to get his store, REWIND VIDEO, up and running. Fate, unfortunately, often has other plans. Then he finds something that would be the perfect touch, an old vacuum tube TV. One that keeps turning to static. And it too has other plans. It follows you. Drives you. It’s already inside you. Lose yourself in...GREY NOISE.

Hodgson, William Hope: The House on the Borderlands

Fishing buddies Tonnison and Berreggnog didn't bargain for what they found while on holiday near the remote Irish village of Kraighten. While walking along the riverbank, they're astonished to see that the river abruptly ends. It reappears as a surge from a chasm some 100 feet below the edge of an abyss, where also stand the remains of an oddly shaped house, half-swallowed by the pit.

Exploring the ruins, the friends discover the moldering journal of an unidentified man--the Recluse--who had lived in the house with his sister and faithful dog years ago. Its pages reveal the man's apparent descent into madness--how else to account for his chronicles of otherworldly visions, trips to other dimensions, and attacks by swine-like humanoid creatures that seem to have followed him home? After one particular vision in which he witnesses the end of the earth and time itself, the Recluse awakens in his study to find nothing has changed--except that his dog Pepper is dead, dissolved into a pile of dust. And then the "swine things" return...

Hunter, Erin: Warriors

Can you keep track of who the fuck is related to who and who died when and what these cats look like and what they're named? No you fucking can't, there's four writers all sharing a pen name and metric shit ton of books in the main series alone, let alone the spinoffs. Continuity is dead and these cats murdered it.

Ito, Junji: Uzumaki

Uzumaki follows a high-school teenager, Kirie Goshima (五島桐絵); her boyfriend, Shuichi Saito (斎藤秀一); and the citizens of the small, quiet Japanese town of Kurouzu-cho (黒渦町, Black Vortex Town), which is enveloped by supernatural events involving spirals.

As the story progresses, Kirie and Shuichi witness how the spiral curse affects the people around them, causing the citizens to become either obsessed or paranoid about spirals. Shuichi becomes reclusive after both of his parents die from the horrific psychological and physical powers of the spirals, but also gains the ability to detect when the spiral curse is taking place, although he is often dismissed until the next paranormal effects of the curse become obvious. Eventually, Kirie is affected by the curse as well, when her hair begins to curl into an unnatural spiral pattern, drains her life energy to hypnotize the citizens, and chokes her whenever she attempts to cut it off. Shuichi is able to cut her hair and save her. The curse continues to plague the town until a series of typhoons conjured by the curse destroys most of its structures. The only remaining buildings are ancient abandoned terraced houses, which the citizens are forced first to move into, and then begin expanding as they grow more and more crowded.

As a series of increasingly powerful earthquakes and additional destruction from delinquents able to utilize strong winds strike the town, Kirie and Shuichi devise a plan to escape Kurouzu-cho, but when they attempt to escape, their efforts are unsuccessful. After returning to the town, they discover that several years have passed since they left, as time speeds up away from the spiral. The other citizens have expanded the terraced houses until they connected into a single structure forming a labyrinthine spiral pattern, but have become mutated as a consequence of overcrowding, their limbs twisting and warping into spirals. Kirie and Shuichi decide to search for Kirie's parents, which brings them to the center after many days of walking through the labyrinth.

At the center, Shuichi is hurled down a pit leading deep beneath the earth by a mutated citizen, with Kirie herself descending via a colossal spiral staircase to find him. She falls but is saved by countless bodies making up the ground of a vast, ancient city consisting entirely of spiral patterns in various arrangements. As Kirie looks for Shuichi, she finds her parents twisted and petrified, resembling stone statues, along with many other citizens of Kurouzu-cho who have met the same fate. Then, she hears Shuichi call for her and goes to him. Both are overwhelmed by the ancient spirals surrounding them and Shuichi points out how it seems as though the spiral ruins have a will of their own. Noticing that the petrified citizens of Kurouzu-cho are all facing the spiral city, Shuichi theorizes that this is the source of the curse; the city expands on its own periodically and has cursed the land above out of jealousy from having no one to view it.

Shuichi urges Kirie to leave without him as he can no longer walk, and that the curse should be over soon, but she replies that she does not have the strength and wishes to stay with him. The two embrace with their bodies twisting and intertwining together, signifying their acceptance into the never-ending curse. At the same time, a stone tower in the shape of a drill bit rises out of the city, and breaches the surface, forming the centerpiece of the abandoned town. As Shuichi and Kirie lie together, Kirie notes that the curse ended at the same time it began, for just as time speeds up away from the center, it freezes at the center. The spiral's curse is eternal, and all the events will repeat when a new Kurouzu-cho is built where the previous one lay.

***

I was debating if I should just do the first volume but three in one horrors sounded great to me. So Uzumaki is largely about spirals, to put the most obvious reasoning first. That's that Uzumaki translates to, after all. Spirals begin enveloping this small town, causing supernatural events. But the madness side of things comes as quickly as the spirals are there. You see it first in completely opposite ways with Shuichi's father and mother, with one becoming obsessed with spirals to the point of madness and eventually becoming one himself and the other being so terrified of spirals that it turns into its own psychological torment as she tries to remove spirals from her life and eventually realizes that those spirals are part of her naturally, causing her to try to take apart those aspects of her as well. Over chapters, characters become warped and characters succumb to the madness of spirals. Some fear the spirals, while others embrace them. Escaping the spirals is proven futile, and through that, it is also proven how out of sync the town is from reality as a whole, with time being sped up. Also, it has a labyrinth at this point, built by those suffering from the curse, so I think the Spiral would love that. In the end, the spirals are proven inescapable, and the two main characters warp together into a spiral of their own. The curse seems to end here, but really, it's a never ending cycle, and a curse which will never go away. The curse and the madness it brings won't fade.

***

Kurouzu-cho, a small fogbound town on the coast of Japan, is cursed. According to Shuichi Saito, the withdrawn boyfriend of teenager Kirie Goshima, their town is haunted not by a person or being but a pattern: UZUMAKI, the spiral—the hypnotic secret shape of the world.

***

Plot is about a town cursed by spirals which make you go insane

Joyce, James: Finnegans Wake

Considered to be one of the great literary mindscrews. The plot is covered in about a tenth of the chapters in the book. The rest tell a series of unconnected vignettes, describe minor characters in excessive detail, give allegories for the main plot, and teach you geometry. One chapter was described by Joyce as "A chattering dialogue across a river by two washerwomen who, as night falls, become a tree and stone." Some chapters feature random doodles in the margins. The first sentence is the ending part of the last sentence, making the book circular. Finally, it's written in a combination of five dozen or so different languages, random puns that you need a doctorate in ancient mythology and the aforementioned languages to understand, and general stream of consciousness. In short, it makes no sense. Which is awesome. Joyce stated that it was supposed to be a dream-like "night book" in comparison to his "day-book", Ulysses, which described a day in the life of some ordinary Dubliners but whose style and construction was almost as weird.

***

Finnegan's Wake is one of the most experimental novels of the twentieth century. Rather than write using conventions of novels--or of the English language--Joyce structured his book on language itself. The result is surreal, dense, and famously difficult. To get a sense of just how strange and dreamlike the whole thing is, even its Wikipedia page compares it to Lewis Carroll's "Jabberwocky" before pointing out the the book begins with the second half of a sentence, which it gives the first half of at its end. Tl;dr Finnegan's Wake is so unsettlingly experimental that Joyce had to break the English language down to its components to get his vision down on the page.

Juster, Norton: The Phantom Tollbooth

Milo receives a package one day, from an unknown source. The package takes him on a journey where he meets the judge jury and executioner, the princesses rhyme and reason, and more

Kte'pi, Bill: The Cheshire

If you don't want to read this whole summary, here's a song based on the story

Alice Little came out of a showing of Disney's Alice in Wonderland sixteen years ago with nothing but a blue gingham dress, a faded daguerrotype of cats, and jumbled memories of being Alice Liddell. Specifically the fictional character: "she'd never thought of herself as the 'real' Alice, the one Charles Dodgson wrote Alice's Adventures in Wonderland for - she had no memories of that Alice's life, only of the life chronicled by Lewis Carroll - madness and tea parties and talking animals. Worse, her memories conflicted, as she remembered Alice's Adventures Underground, Wonderland's first draft, as vividly as she did the two published novels." After years of attempting to return to Wonderland failed--she'd "tried every drug she could, hallucinogenic and otherwise [...] meditation, trances, pain rituals, sweat lodges, prayers and madness and hypnosis and psychotherapy"--Alice tells herself that her memories are merely symptomatic of a dissociative disorder and tries to go clean. But she puts an ad in the paper asking "Why is a raven like a writing desk?" (which includes a coded message saying "SAVE ME"), searching for answers despite herself, and eventually gets an answer. She meets a grinning man "in a purple-striped turtleneck, with odd-shaped nails and a tattoo of a mushroom on one of his knuckles" at a bar and they talk about her struggles, with him eventually getting her to ask what she really wants to know--if he can take her back. The man replies, "'There's no back to take you. You never left [...] Maybe we recognise each other because you're Alice and I'm the Cheshire Cat. Maybe we're descendents of the originals. Maybe we're brother and sister, separated after our parents' deaths and so traumatised we sought refuge in the books Father read to us as children. Maybe we're simply mad.'" After giving her LSD, the man tells her that a raven isn't like a writing desk at all, "And he faded away, leaving nothing but a grinnnnnnnnnn."

Lovecraft, H.P.: The Color Out of Space

An indescribable color leaches the life out of a patch of farmland and everyone on it.

Lyons, Steve: The Stealers of Dreams

Synopsis: "In the far future, the Doctor, Rose and Captain Jack find a world on which fiction has been outlawed. A world where it's a crime to tell stories, a crime to lie, a crime to hope, and a crime to dream.

But now somebody is challenging the status quo. A pirate TV station urges people to fight back. And the Doctor wants to help -- until he sees how easily dreams can turn into nightmares.

With one of his companions stalked by shadows and the other committed to an asylum, the Doctor is forced to admit that fiction can be dangerous after all. Though perhaps it is not as deadly as the truth... "

Why it's Spiral: A society where lies and fictions are forbidden is, evidently, a society that will fall for anything. The repression of any untruth -- by threat of violence and by invasive brain surgery to paralyze the region that dreams -- means that people are more desperate than ever to believe in anything. Fiction has consequences on this planet. And what could be a more obvious lie than the time-traveling man in his blue box...?

Mathers, Edward Powys: Cain’s Jawbone

I'm just going to quote an article from The Independent: "Cain’s Jawbone, originally published in 1934, is a murder mystery puzzle composed of 100 pages – all assembled in the wrong order. The only way to solve all six murders in the prose narrative is to reorder the pages and correctly identify the crimes, their victims, and who perpetrated them."

Here's the link to the article

Mearns, William Hughes: Antigonish

It's all pretty much all in the TMA episode (Upon the stairs). The little man who "wasn't there" in the stairs.

Miles, Lawrence et. al.: The Book of the War

Synopsis: "The Great Houses: Immovable. Implacable. Unchanging. Old enough to pass themselves off as immortal, arrogant enough to claim ultimate authority over the Spiral Politic.

The Enemy: Not so much an army as a hostile new kind of history. So ambitious it can re-write worlds, so complex that even calling it by its name seems to underestimate it.

Faction Paradox: Renegades, ritualists, saboteurs and subterfugers, the criminal-cult to end all criminal-cults, happy to be caught in the crossfire and ready to take whatever's needed from the wreckage… assuming the other powers leave behind a universe that's habitable.

The War: A fifty-year-old dispute over the two most valuable territories in existence: "cause" and "effect."

Marking the first five decades of the conflict, THE BOOK OF THE WAR is an A to Z of a self-contained continuum and a complete guide to the Spiral Politic, from the beginning of recordable time to the fall of humanity. Part story, part history and part puzzle-box, this is a chronicle of protocol and paranoia in a War where the historians win as many battles as the soldiers and the greatest victory of all is to hold on to your own past."

Propaganda: A text which purports to be a constantly shifting and updating guide to The War, a conflict so overarching and complete that every other conflict is but a pale shadow thereof; the Time War. Of course, since it would shift retroactively with the changing timelines, there is no way to prove or disprove this claim. Notable entries include cities built from days stolen from shifting calendars, the secrets of removing yourself from history while still leaving yourself free to interfere, Grandfather Paradox, the location of the exact centre of history, how to weaponize banality, and Parablox.

Oh, and there's something else in there. Something that seems to be talking to you...

Morrison, Grant: Doom Patrol

The series in general could easily fit in the Spiral, but I'll focus on a certain arc. A great new evil emerges! The Brotherhood of Dada! Its members: a woman that has super strength when she's asleep, a man that is made of fog and swallows his victims(and then has to put up with their voices inside his brain forever), a woman that has every super power you haven't thought of and is deathly afraid of dirt and an illiterate man that can turn into a hurricane. And their intrepid leader! Mr Nobody! He used to be a boring, average man. With the help of a very criminal doctor he tried to turn into a new man...but he went so insane he's always slightly left of reality and 2D. He doesn't mind though, he rather enjoys the meaninglessness of it all, which is a bit Vast of him. He also calls cops fascists.

The bad guys steal a painting that swallows everything and anything and they put Paris inside it. One of the funniest panels ever is various super heroes sitting around a painting wandering what they're supposed to do. Thankfully, Doom Patrol knows how to deal with the weird stuff. They go into the painting, get separated in different artstyles and beaten up.

But the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse is coming, so they cooperate and put him in the dadaist section, making him lose all meaning and turning into a wooden horse.

A big part of the arc is also narrated by the illiterate hurricane guy, which makes it harder to understand since he writes phonetically.

The whole thing is absurdity, the first bad guys are absurd and the second bad guy gets beaten by the absurd. After a few more arcs Mr Nobody runs for president(with some members of the Doom Patrol endorsing him) and gets killed by the CIA in a similar manner to Jesus. For his campaign he drove a bus that made everyone behind it feel like they've taken lsd.

Moore, Christopher: Sacré Bleu: A Comedy d’Art

The story surrounds the mysterious suicide of Vincent van Gogh, who famously shot himself in a French wheat field only to walk a mile to a doctor’s house. The mystery, which is slowly but cleverly revealed through the course of the book, is blue: specifically the exclusive ultramarine pigment that accents pictures created by the likes of Michelangelo and van Gogh. To find the origin of the hue, Moore brings on Lucien Lessard, a baker, aspiring artist and lover of Juliette, the brunette beauty who breaks his heart. After van Gogh’s death, Lucien joins up with the diminutive force of nature Henri Toulouse-Lautrec to track down the inspiration behind the Sacré Bleu. In the shadows, lurking for centuries, is a perverse paint dealer dubbed The Colorman, who tempts the world’s great artists with his unique hues and a mysterious female companion who brings revelation—and often syphilis (it is Moore, after all). Into the palette, Moore throws a dizzying array of characters, all expertly portrayed, from the oft-drunk “little gentleman” to a host of artists including Édouard Manet, Paul Gauguin, Georges Seurat, Claude Monet, Camille Pissarro and Pierre-Auguste Renoir.

Muir, Tamsyn: Harrow the Ninth

Harrow the Ninth is, above all, really fucking confusing. Roughly every third chapter is actively gaslighting the reader about what happened in the last book. The main character is fucking struggling to maintain any sort of grip on reality all throughout the story, and more often than not, she fails miserably. This is due to several factors, including, but not limited to - sleep deprivation, latent schizophrenia, ruthless emotional manipulation from everyone around her, being full of a frankly alarming number of ghosts from several entirely unrelated sources, childhood parental and religious trauma, and a self-inflicted amateur lobotomy.

***

Takes place post(sometimes pre) DIY lobotomy; leaving our protag, who already struggles identifying between reality and hallucination, a paranoid, constantly questioning wreck. It's written in second person and does not follow events chronologically, leaving the reader questioning everything almost as much as the protag.

National Governors Association and Council of Chief State School Officers: Common Core Math Textbook

Drives me up the damn wall insane. This is mostly a joke suggestion but also I think there’s something to be said about fractals’ place in mathematics, and the widespread range of common core math’s influence. To be honest, submitting this is a gut feeling of dread to me.

Nikolson, Adam: Life between the tides

Look this probably shouldn’t even make it into the bracket and this is mostly a very dull book about shoreline ecosystems but there’s this one chapter where the dude gets positively poetic about I think?? winkles?? (a kind of snail) and it absolutely reads like a statement like we are talking fractal winkles-all-the-way-down insanity. I need to tell someone about it bc it was like suddenly reading another book. A better and also worse book. I’m pretty sure he quoted philosophers in it. I wish I had taken notes. He would get along with Ivo Lensik’s dad.

O’Brien, Flann: The Third Policeman

Synopsis from Goodreads: "The Third Policeman is Flann O'Brien's brilliantly dark comic novel about the nature of time, death, and existence. Told by a narrator who has committed a botched robbery and brutal murder, the novel follows him and his adventures in a two-dimensional police station where, through the theories of the scientist/philosopher de Selby, he is introduced to "Atomic Theory" and its relation to bicycles, the existence of eternity (which turns out to be just down the road), and de Selby's view that the earth is not round but "sausage-shaped." With the help of his newly found soul named "Joe," he grapples with the riddles and contradictions that three eccentric policeman present to him."

Ogawa, Yoko: The Memory Police

The story is set in an alternate Japan where people's memories of certain things and concepts (e.g. birds, hats, winter, books, seasons, even their sense of self) are slowly taken away from their collective minds for 'their safety' by the titular Memory Police, a government force of sorts. This forced forgetting goes to the point where they can't physically perceive that concept; birds are weird creatures because no one remembers what a bird is like, and it's always winter because no one remembers what spring is. The story even ends with the unnamed protagonist (along with several others) eventually fading away from existence (read: forgetting) as memories of certain body parts and finally the concept of the human body is taken away by the Memory Police. It's like if the vase from MAG 38 formed and entire task force to do its job.

This one has narrative potential too; imagine a statement where someone slowly lose memories of certain things after reading this Leitner, gradually becoming an unreliable narrator as reality slips away from their conscious.

Orwell, George: Nineteen Eighty-Four

Pelevin, Victor: The Helmet of Horror

Eight people find themselves in eight different rooms with a labyrinth behind them and a computer in front of them. They try to communicate via the computer that allows them to chat with one another, but has nicknames set for them(IsoldA, UGLI 666, Ariane...) and blocks their personal information. They(and us) can't know if they are lying. When two of them try to see each other by visiting a spot in the labyrinths that should be the same they each then recount a completely different experience and accuse each other of lying. Another character claims they all must be figments of his imagination, he must be very drunk. And they're all afraid of the minotaur. It is a book where no one, even the reader knows what's real, everyone is afraid of what might appear if they turn a corner and no one knows what's going on.

Pratchett, Terry: Moving Pictures

"‘HOLY WOOD IS A DIFFERENT SORT OF PLACE . . . HERE, THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IS TO BE IMPORTANT.’

A new phenomenon is taking over the Discworld: moving pictures. Created by the alchemists of Ankh-Morpork, the growing ‘clicks’ industry moves to the sandy land of Holy Wood, attracted by the light of the sun and some strange calling no one can quite put their finger on…

Also drawn to Holy Wood are aspiring young stars Victor Tugelbend, a wizarding student dropout, and Theda ‘Ginger’ Withel, a small-town girl with big dreams. But behind the glitz and glamour of the clicks, a sinister presence lurks. Because belief is powerful in the Discworld, and sometimes downright dangerous…

The magic of movies might just unravel reality itself."

Pynchon, Thomas: The Crying of Lot 49

Oedipa Maas spends the whole book trying to figure out if the conspiracy she’s trying to unravel about the US postal service and a conter-postal service via plays, signs/images, and history is real or if she’s being gaslit by her ex, who just died and made her executor of his will.

Ryukishi07: higurashi no naku koro ni (When The Evening Cicadas Cry)

The series explores paranoia and deceit among friends. It uses its POVs incredibly well, limiting your view of the situation so much that it is genuinely incredibly hard to figure out what happened or why (until you read the answer arcs ofc). Several key plot points involve characters getting so consumed by their own madness that they cannot see reality for what it is and wildly assume false things. This madness repeats and repeats and repeats, consuming the friends group over and over and over, leading them to do horrific things to each other. Many a character become so consumed by suspicion and fear that the world distorts and details change in their mind to match what they think is happening. I am desperately trying to describe the series without spoilers rn

Sachar, Louis: Wayside School Is Falling Down

Obviously all of Wayside School is a little Spirally -- the weird architecture, the cow invasions, occasional hypnosis, and more -- but this one tells a story of the nineteenth floor. Wayside School has no nineteenth floor. There is one teacher on the nineteenth floor, and only one class, who learn about how to alphabetize every number. Sometimes, new students arrive...

Schwartz, Alvin: "Maybe You Will Remember" (short story from Scary Stories 3: More Tales To Chill Your Bones)

A girl, Rosemary, and her mother are on vacation in Paris. Rosemary's mother is ill, so Rosemary is sent to get medicine, but ultimately has her time wasted by the driver on the way back, and when she returns to the hotel, nobody recognizes her, telling her she has the wrong place. Her mother is gone, too, and when Rosemary asks to see the room they stayed in as proof they were there, the clerk shows her a completely unfamiliar setup, making Rosemary wonder what happened to her.

In the appendix of the book, the scenario is explained. Rosemary's mother was sick with the plague, and the doctor, recognizing it, knew she would be dead very quickly. Rosemary was put on a wild goose chase for the medicine and given a driver who would delay her, with the doctor and hotel staff working to dispose of her mother's body and re-decorate the hotel room while Rosemary was away. With Rosemary unable to verify that she was in the hotel, and unknowing that her mother died of plague, the hotel avoided any negative publicity that would have occurred if anyone were to find out a guest had the plague. The hotel's PR was saved, but Rosemary was left doubting her sanity.

Serafini, Luigi: Codex Seraphinianus

The Codex is an encyclopedia in manuscript with copious hand-drawn, colored-pencil illustrations of bizarre and fantastical flora, fauna, anatomies, fashions, and foods. The illustrations are often surreal parodies of things in the real world, such as a bleeding fruit, a plant that grows into roughly the shape of a chair and is subsequently made into one, and a copulating couple who metamorphose into an alligator. Others depict odd, apparently senseless machines, often with delicate appearances and bound by tiny filaments. Some illustrations are recognizable as maps or human faces, while others (especially in the "physics" chapter) are mostly or totally abstract. Nearly all of the illustrations are brightly coloured and highly detailed

***

It's an encyclopedia for a universe that doesn't exist, treated as if it does exist in another universe while being written in a nonsense, impossible to understand language. The things it depict doesn't make sense either, ranging from swimming trees and eye-shaped fishes to absolutely bizarre creatures and technology, like a rainbow-making cloud shaped like Da Vinci's aerial screw. The entire thing comes off as surreal nonsense because it's meant to symbolise the feeling of trying to understand something that you can't understand, but finds cool because of the visuals. It's a book that you aren't meant to read understand, but simply look at, because trying to understand it just... doesn't work.

***

The Codex is an encyclopedia in manuscript with copious hand-drawn, colored-pencil illustrations of bizarre and fantastical flora, fauna, anatomies, fashions, and foods. It has been compared to the still undeciphered Voynich manuscript, the story "Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius" by Jorge Luis Borges, and the artwork of M. C. Escher and Hieronymus Bosch. The illustrations are often surreal parodies of things in the real world, such as a bleeding fruit, a plant that grows into roughly the shape of a chair and is subsequently made into one, and a copulating couple who metamorphose into an alligator. Others depict odd, apparently senseless machines, often with delicate appearances and bound by tiny filaments. Some illustrations are recognizable as maps or human faces, while others (especially in the "physics" chapter) are mostly or totally abstract. Nearly all of the illustrations are brightly coloured and highly detailed.

The false writing system appears modeled on Western writing systems, with left-to-right writing in rows and an alphabet with uppercase and lowercase letters, some of which double as numerals. Some letters appear only at the beginning or end of words, similar to Semitic writing systems. The curvilinear letters are rope- or thread-like, with loops and even knots, and are somewhat reminiscent of Sinhala script. In a talk at the Oxford University Society of Bibliophiles [...] Serafini stated that there is no meaning behind the Codex's script, which is asemic; that his experience in writing it was similar to automatic writing; and that what he wanted his alphabet to convey was the sensation children feel with books they cannot yet understand, although they see that the writing makes sense for adults. Take a look for yourself:

Shakespeare, William: A Midsummer Night's Dream

The way the fey play with the perceptions and emotions of the wandering youths in the woods is peak Spiral, as their loves and disdains change with the machinations of Oberon and Puck.

Shakespeare, William: King Lear

The play has everything: real descents into madness, fake descents into madness, betrayal by trusted loved ones, loyalty from betrayed loved ones, and would-be wise men who turn out to be fools.

Shakespeare, William: The Winter's Tale

Imagine that you are absolutely, completely, 100 percent certain that your wife is cheating on you with your best friend. Now imagine you're the king, and your best friend is the king of a far-off kingdom. Now imagine that the consequences of your actions spiral outward: your wife and son die, one of your trusted advisors has disappeared with daughter on your orders to kill her.

This first half of this deeply underappreciated play explores the consequences of one man's fear of betrayal. Coincidentally, it is one Shakespeare's more surreal works. It's the origin of the infamous "Exit pursued by a bear," a stage direction that concludes a scene set on the coast of a kingdom that in real life was landlocked. And--spoiler alert--the play concludes with a statute coming back to life.

Anyway, it's a surprisingly Spiral-like play with a dream-like atmosphere, fairy-tale logic, and a Distortion-esque look at the fear of betrayal.

Silberescher: SCP-1425: Star Signals

Stine, R.L.: Don't Go to Sleep!

"Matt hates his tiny bedroom. It's so small it's practically a closet! Still, Matt's mom refuses to let him sleep in the guest room. After all, they might have guests. Some day. Or year. Then Matt does it. Late one night. When everyone's in bed. He sneaks into the guest room and falls asleep. Poor Matt. He should have listened to his mom. Because when Matt wakes up, his whole life has changed. For the worse. And every time he falls asleep, he wakes up in a new nightmare... "

Inception, for kids! Whenever Matt falls asleep, he changes reality -- and a group of special agents want to stop him by putting him to sleep, permanently.

Unknown, Voynich Manuscript

Many call the fifteenth-century codex, commonly known as the “Voynich Manuscript,” the world’s most mysterious book. Written in an unknown script by an unknown author, the manuscript has no clearer purpose now than when it was rediscovered in 1912 by rare books dealer Wilfrid Voynich. It's a strange code describing alchemical formulae and unknown life forms, and no one understands it. It's a mystery waiting for you to lose yourself in its pages.

Wells, H.G.: The Door in the Wall

This short story is about Lionel Wallace, who at the age of 5 encountered and entered a weird door. Behind it he found a beautiful and peaceful garden and felt such happiness and bliss, that when he was transported back on the street and escorted back to his home, he was very upset. He would see the door again many times later in life, but every time he will refuse to enter it due to his responsibilities (for example, to not be late to class, to catch a train, to be on time for an appointment). He grew up and became a successful politician, but the perfect world behind the door haunted him, and his success felt dull and boring. The book ends with people finding his lifeless body at the bottom of a pit, and that he had in poor light walked through a small doorway that led onto it. The narrator then speculates that maybe Lionel saw the perfect garden behind the doorway and was finally able to find happiness.

West, A.J.: The Spirit Engineer

Based on a real story about a guy who was convinced that one particular medium was the real deal. He completely upended his career for it, and wrote a paper on the science of the ghostly plane.

He did several shows, and got relatively famous. Eventually, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle [someone who wanted to believe] and Harry Houdini [An avid non-believer] invite him over to convince them that séances were real. In the process, Houdini completely disproves him, and outs the medium he thought was real as a fraud.

It turns out his wife and coworker had convinced the 'medium' and their family to run a prank on him. In his fury, he kills everyone involved, and then drinks Poison to try - one final time - to proove his theory.

Tldr: A real story who unknowingly changed his life and ruined his reputation because of the lies of the ones he trusted. When he realises, he looses his sanity and kills everyone around him, including himself.

Whorf, Benjamin Lee: Relation of Habitual Thought and Behavior to Language

The famous text about language as a symbol that can never truly reflect reality can kinda fuck with your perceptions about how our language serves to construct our own realities. We're programmed to experience the world in different ways according to the way we interpret language.

Wyspiański, Stanisław: The Wedding

Relevant parts from Wikipedia

"The play's action takes place at the wedding of a member of the Kraków intelligentsia (the Bridegroom) and his peasant Bride. Their crossclass union follows a then fashionable trend of chłopomaństwo ("peasant-mania") among some Polish intelligentsia, who were often scions of the historic Polish szlachta (nobility). (...) Among the live guests are ghosts of personae from Polish history and culture, representing the guilty consciences of the living. The two groups engage in dialogues. The wedding guests are hypnotized by a rosebush straw-wrap (Chochoł) from the garden which comes to life and joins the party. (Offending a chochoł, according to folk beliefs, could provoke the thing to play tricks).The "Poet" is visited successively by the "Black Knight" (a symbol of the nation's past military glory); the "Journalist"; the court jester Stańczyk, a conservative political sage; and the "Ghost of Wernyhora" (a paradigm of leadership for Poland). (...)Thus the wedding guests, symbolizing the nation, waste their chance at national freedom. They keep on dancing a "chocholi taniec" (a "straw-wrap's dance") "the way it's played for them" (a Polish folk saying), failing in their mission." This play is as if patriotically motivated Spiral avatars crashed somebody's wedding, and I think it deserves consideration as Spiral Leitner.

#leitner tournament #reading list #spiral poll

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mandy-eminem-moxley77 · 2 years ago

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Saw that dogs were trending on here! Makes me smiles cause I love dogs myself! PS don’t tell the cat lovers!!

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dustedmagazine · 2 months ago

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Dust Volume 10, Number 9

Photo of Aerial M by Tim Furnish

We’ve got a couple of Peel Sessions in this month’s batch, and it makes you think about how people can go on shaping the taste of millions, finding new bands, bringing up worthy underdogs for decades, and then stop. We come to rely on these people—John Peel for sure, but there are others—but they’re not here forever, and who will step up when they’re gone? Well, we’re not saying we’re John Peel, not by any stretch, but we’re still here at Dusted, still digging the obscure and overlooked, still operating in more or less a vacuum. We don’t make Dusted for the clicks or the acclaim and certainly not for the cash (there is none). We do it for each other. We do it for the bands. We do it for you.

Anyway, we hope you enjoy this iteration of Dust. Jennifer Kelly, Christian Carey, Bill Meyer, Jonathan Shaw, Tim Clarke, Bryon Hayes, Ian Mathers, Andrew Forell and Jim Marks contributed.

Aerial M — The Peel Sessions (Drag City)

This three-song EP collects the output from Aerial M’s only Peel Session, recorded on March 3, 1998 (it was broadcast about a month later). Here in the interim between Slint and Papa M, David Pajo lays down an extended version of “Skrag Theme,” an alternate version of the single “Vivea,” and “Safeless” from the 1998 Vivea EP (which, very curiously, did not include a version of “Vivea”). Although Aerial M is largely considered a solo effort, Pajo was accompanied on this occasion by a crack Louisville post-hardcore ensemble: Tony Bailey, a veteran of more than 40 Kentucky underground bands, on drums; Cassie Marrett, who would later be known as Cassie Berman and a member of Silver Jews; and Tim Furnish of Parlour, Crain and the For Carnation. That band knocked Pajo’s Aerial M songs for a loop, pushing the woozy guitar tones of “Vivea” with a gut-checking drum beat and shading it subtly with either a keyboard or a melodica. Still moody, still layered with guitars, but subtly more physical, the track is the stand-out of the three. Likewise “Skrag Theme” fills out with a live band, its cerebral guitar lick anchored by the weight of drums and bass. “Safeless” spins out lyrically, meditatively, from a guitar line too chilled and thoughtful for rock, but not exactly jazz either. It’s all enough to make you wonder how things would have turned out if this band had kept at it, pushing at the boundaries of rock and noise and psych together.

Jennifer Kelly

Franco Ambrosetti — Sweet Caress (Enja)

Flugelhorn player Franco Ambrosetti brought together an all-star cast to record at Skywalker for his latest Enja release, Sweet Caress: pianist Alan Broadbent, guitarist John Scofield, bassist Scott Colley, and drummer Peter Erskine, with a generous string section alongside. Broadbent is also arranger and conductor. They dig into an estimable list of standards such as “Soul Eyes,” “Old Friends,” and Charlie Haden’s “Nightfall,” the latter of which sent me right to the piano to learn it. Ambrosetti has a rounded tone and enjoys adding fleet runs to his solos. His colleagues are equally fluent, and a solo violin introduction on the title tune underscores the album as a whole’s suavity.

Christian Carey

BassDrumBone — Afternoon (Auricle)

If you don’t know anything about BassDrumBone, after one look at the cover of Afternoon, with its image a many-ringed tree stump,you’ll have a pretty good idea of what they play, as well as the band’s collective sense of aging. And you’d be right, twice over. Mark Helias plays bass, Gerry Hemingway drums, and Ray Anderson is on trombone, and they recorded this album 46 years after they first got together. What you won’t know until you play it is how comfortable they are with each other, not as in “let’s kick and blow some old tunes,” but in the “I’ve got your back and I know you have mine, so let’s see what happens” sense. They alternate between written tunes that exploit the line-up’s potential for turning tight angles and improvisations that journey from eerie chamber abstraction to robust swing on a path pocked with aside-inducing holes in the road.

Bill Meyer

Black Mold — In the Dirt of Oblivion (Hellprod)

Grim, grotty blackened punk from somewhere in Portugal, released for your unpleasure on a shitty-sounding cassette. That sort of willfully outmoded packaging is the sort of thing that the hipster kids in the various undergrounds love to pieces — but the technical atavisms are unironically earned here. How else should we listen to a song called “Faint in Obscurity”? Turn that tune up loud and you’ll hear all the tasty, weirdo guitar tracks churning and distending under the mix’s buzzy, brittle surface. Is it frustrating that Black Mold seems to care about how their music strikes your battered, beleaguered earholes, and the indifference to anything resembling recording fidelity turns that care in on itself? Is that punk perversity? Kvlty authenticity? When the music is this raw and exciting, does it matter? In any case, the tape closes with a song called “Futile Purpose,” so fuck it, and fuck us all for giving a shit in the first place. Black Mold doesn’t.

Jonathan Shaw

Broadcast — Distant Call: Collected Demos 2000-2006 (Warp)

Following May’s 36-track Spell Blanket, a sprawling, varied and intermittently brilliant collection of Broadcast demos dating from 2006 to 2009, Distant Call is now the final release from Broadcast. It’s a much more succinct and consistent collection of songs, most of which are spare voice-and-guitar renditions of tracks that made their way onto Haha Sound, Tender Buttons and The Future Crayon, including essentials such as “Tears in the Typing Pool,” “Where Tears and Laughter Go” and “Pendulum.”To anyone familiar with the band, it’s not only striking to find that much of the character of these songs resides in Trish Keenan’s unique songwriting style and vocals, but also how much the full album arrangements and production contribute to their vivid realization. I can’t imagine wanting to hear any of these versions in preference to their album incarnations, but there are a couple of previously unreleased songs to sweeten the deal: “Come Back to Me” and “Please Call to Book.” The former’s sing-song melody over ripples of fingerpicked guitar is archetypal Broadcast, eerie and mesmerizing. The latter closes out the collection in a hushed, hesitant manner, with lovely harmonized vocals and a bright swell to the chorus: “When the sun shines inside the sun shines outside.” It’s a bittersweet send-off to one of the most beloved and influential bands of recent decades.

Tim Clarke

The Gabys — Self-Titled 7-inch (Fruits and Flowers)

The Gabys are from the U.K. but are sonically aligned with San Francisco’s bedroom pop scene. Stalwart Bay Area scenester Glenn Donaldson is a fan. His band The Reds, Pinks & Purples has covered “Molly” from the duo’s debut cassette, and he’s released two of their EPs on the Fruits & Flowers label he co-runs with Chris Berry. The Gabys’ music also runs parallel to the general sonic milieu of Paisley Shirt Records, another SF-based champion of fuzzy DIY sunshine. The duo pair the romantic and jangly edges of The Velvet Underground’s oeuvre with vocals eerily reminiscent of Young Marble Giants’ Alison Statton. Their home recording ethos lends their sound a hazy quality. On past releases, Matt and Natasha (the pair behind The Gabys name) have wrapped their harmony-filled song nuggets in clouds of lo-fi murk, but this latest EP polishes off their sound and reveals a quartet of brief and beautiful tunes. This additional clarity makes reveling in The Gabys’ jangly sound world even more rewarding, so hopefully the pair unveil more music soon.

Bryon Hayes

Christoph Gallio Roger Turner — You Can Blackmail Me Later (Ezz-thetics)

While the album name and certain of the track titles imply belligerence, this music steers clear of hostility. However, it’s perpetually tense and mercurial, with pungent horn phrases sharing space with featuring swift changes of attack. Swiss saxophonist (soprano, alto, c-melody) Christoph Gallio sounds exceptionally distilled, doling out pungent tones that gradually build in length and mobility. Englishman Roger Turner’s drumming is a master class in making each strike count and using shifts in volume to shape the music. The duo struck up an ultimately robust partnership when Gallio moved to London for a six-month sabbatical with the express intention of studying London’s improvised music scene. A single gig launched a sequence of private, recurring encounters, during which they hashed out the shared language heard here.

Bill Meyer

Gleaming Shard — Mirrors in Light Diamonds (Balance Point Acoustics)

Gleaming Shard is an improvising duo based in Chicago. Both of its members, prepared guitar player Da Wei Wang and percussionist Jerome Bryerton, have shared stages with musicians you might follow if you’re into that scene, but on Mirrors in Light Diamonds they clear a zone of their own. The instrumentation — mainly a couple guitars on a table and an array of gongs — has some precedent, and so does their sound. But connecting tools to output is a bit harder to do. The album’s six pieces sound like field recordings made at noon in a town comprising nothing but churches. Tom Verlaine once sang about walking around in the ring of a bell, but these guys have set up shop and spent so much time there that their postures have been molded to fit the furniture. It’s a marvelously engulfing racket.

Bill Meyer

hkmori — in search of a life worth living (self released)

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How you feel about the work of enigmatic producer hkmori can probably be summed up by how you feel about the genre name “depressive breakcore.” Incomprehension and/or revulsion? Well, there’s plenty of music out there to check out instead. But if instead you’re intrigued by the idea of melding one type of sonic extremity to a different type of emotional extremity (kind of similar in spirit if not at all in sound to depressive black metal, actually), c’mon in. The four EPs hkmori has posted on Bandcamp in 2022 and 2023 are all strong examples of the form, and now their first 2024 release feels like it widens the scope just a little bit. Yes, you’ve still got songs like “tearsoaked pillows” hitting that sweet’n’sour spot, but on “What even is b@#$%core?” and “unrequited meaning” you start getting some new tones and timbres introduced (emotionally and sonically). Still not for everyone, but if you’re on this wavelength it’s another solid transmission.

Ian Mathers

Hubbub — abb abb abb (Relative Pitch)

abb abb abb, the fifth album by Hubbub, was recorded in 2019. This makes it an unofficial 20th anniversary observation by the French electro-acoustic improv unit, which comprises Fréderic Blondy, Bertrand Denzler, Jean-Luc Guionnet, Jean-Sébastien Mariage and Edward Perraud, released just in time for its 25th. Sometimes good things take time, and while the ensemble’s music is created in the instant of performance, it’s informed by a lot of history and takes its time manifesting. While its line-up (reeds, electric guitar, piano, percussion) and component personalities differ, there are aspects of 1990s AMM in the tension that Hubbub obtains from the tectonic friction of sonic layers. However, the music’s silence to event ratio is never so large, and the saxophonists stand ready to switch into close, prickly interaction, which combine to give the music an austere muscularity.

Bill Meyer

Hybrid — Movable Objects (Self-released)

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Hybrid is New York tenor saxophonist Adam Larson’s trio with Chicago bassist Clark Sommers and Kansas City drummer John Kizilarmut. On Movable Objects they take a low key but sophisticated run through a 40-minute set of original material. As soloists they favor oblique melodic and rhythmic approaches to passionate intensity and technical fireworks and their interplay has a complexity and depth that reveals itself beneath placid surfaces. On “November to March” provides the template as the trio move from a simple opening motif into deft improvisation with deceptive ease. Sommers’ solo seems to slip sideways before you realize it, darting like a hummingbird from idea to idea. Kizilarmut makes fine use of his rims playing with a relaxed feel that seems to shrug at his inventiveness. Larson is likewise an agile presence, his tone sharp and he invests his runs with both emotional depth and satisfyingly unpredictable turns.

Andrew Forell

Isik Kural — Moon in Gemini (RVNG Intl.)

Isik Kural presents a different kind of expression than that of previous recordings on Moon in Gemini. Gentle lullabies and dulcet vocals provide a mood that transcends mere ambience into back to the womb sound bathing. “Almost a Ghost” is affecting, with hummed backing vocals, plucked acoustic guitar, synth harp, and field recording snippets supporting a laconic lead vocal. “Behind the Flowerpots” has dulcet upper register singing accompanied by scalar pitched percussion and a repeated chord progression in synth strings. The final track, “Most Beautiful Imaginary Dialogues,” quotes a Silvina Ocampo poem, convincingly summing up a warm outing that is compelling rather than cloying.

Christian Carey

LDL — In the Endless Wind (Wide Ear)

in the endless wind by LDL (Leimgruber - Demierre - Lehn)

LDL is soprano saxophonist Urs Leimgruber, (mostly prepared) pianist Jacques Demierre and analogue synthesizer player Thomas Lehn. Originally Barre Phillips held Demierre’s space, and for a time they were a quartet. Years of improvising together have resulted in a shared language that is simultaneously distinctly tripartite and irretrievably blurred; Lehn and Demierre can each run the other’s signals through their respective instruments, and Leimgruber’s high, lacerating shards of pitch come startlingly close to those of Lehn’s synth. Thus, the action often comes from sounds pixilating, flickering at the edge of silence, combining into dense blocks that are decayed around the edges, or snapping back into conventional voices. Their interactions mutate and reconfigure, inviting the listener to follow them on a trip that’s unfailingly alien but never gratuitously weird.

Bill Meyer

loscil // Lawrence English — Chroma (self released)

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Colours of Air, last year’s debut full-length collaboration between loscil (Scott Morgan) and Lawrence English, did so much with its pipe organ source material that it’s not shocking that Morgan and English might take another kick at the can. If anything, the surprising part is that while Chroma is identifiably part of the same overall project, it does have a distinct identity, one even gentler and quieter than its predecessor. It also, in the form of “Vermillion,” has an example of how the duo’s live shows went, presenting a gorgeous excerpt from their set at the Vox Organi festival in Vancouver. Fittingly enough, “Vermillion” is the track across both LPs that most clearly sounds like a pipe organ (which was played live by both human and computer). The result is not quite as striking as its predecessor, but it’s hard to be upset with 32 more minutes of this particular good thing.

Ian Mathers

Love Child — Peel Session (12XU)

Peel Session by Love Child

Love Child’s Never Meant to Be is one of 2024’s best reissues, compiling both full-lengths, singles and radio appearances for these NYC-based purveyors of lo-fi post-punk. It’s a comprehensive survey of the band’s 1988-1993 run, but not exhaustive. This four-song EP adds two never-released songs to the catalog and reprises two from the main retrospective. All four come from a December 1992 Peel session that, sadly, never aired. They catch the band at a loosely slung, wildly energetic peak, months before they broke up for good.

The band, if you’re just checking in, featured Alan Licht on guitar, Rebecca Odes on bass and, by that point, Brendan O’Malley, who had replaced founder Will Baum on drums. Their version here of “Asking for It” is careening punk rock, with Rebecca Odes spattering the walls with indignant verses and Licht executing tight repeated squalls on guitar. If you think you’ve heard it before, you have. It was the lead-off track to Never Meant to Be. You might also be familiar with closer “Greedy,” with its seething guitar and candy-coated vocal (Odes again), and for the same reason. But two of these tracks are new to almost everyone, and they capture the band moving in a welcome but unfamiliar direction of droning psychedelia. “All Is Loneliness,” for instance, has approximately 0% of Love Child’s early brat-punk vibe, instead it flickers and builds and howls like an outtake from Bailter Space or, possibly, Bardo Pond. “Slow Me Down,” lurches forward on blasts of heavy metal guitar, tamping the riff down just enough to reveal the song’s indie post-rock heart. A guitar lick that reminds me, no kidding, of the Wrens, coincides with brutalist assault, and it might have been interesting to hear more of that if the band had stayed together a little longer. Oh well.

Jennifer Kelly

Mahti — Konsertti I (VHF)

Konsertti 1 by Mahti

Mahti is a Finnish instrumental quartet with ties to their compatriots Circle, but you wouldn’t know that by listening to them. There’s no heaviness and virtually no rock in their music. Electronic percussion percolates more than it propels, trading off the lead position with a clean-toned electric guitar like a couple of geese swapping a flock’s point position, and synths move volumes of sound like lassoed clouds. A fourth member plays kantele, a Finnish folk zither, but it tends to blend with the other instrumental voices rather than assert one of its own. The music was recorded live, but audience noise and room town are so absent that you might never know. To perky to be ambient, soothing but busy, this music feels familiarly krauty without ever adopting anyone else’s guise.

Bill Meyer

Mutated Void — Listen to the Struggle (Unlawful Assembly)

Listen To The Struggle by Mutated Void

Depending on your tolerance for feral, freaked-out skate punk, you might wish to paraphrase the title of this new tape from Mutated Void: Listening is the struggle. Others among us will be as happy with Listen to the Struggle as we have been with the Nova Scotia band’s previous output. Ugly, stoopid riffage; indifferently bashed percussive elements; harsh, hoarse croaks that have a vaguely humanoid quality — good times, galore. It’s the sound of several layers of skin being peeled off by sunbaked concrete; or maybe, given the Nova Scotia provenance of these noises, a rain-slicked quarter-pipe slowly falling to pieces. In any event, these tunes will scar you, or at least leave you with some nasty splinters. Cassette-closer “Zombie (Mecht Mensch)” is the main attraction. Like a moldy hunk of ambulatory undead flesh, the song really stinks, and it’s just wonderful.

Jonathan Shaw

Meshell Ndegeocello — No More Water: The Gospel of James Baldwin (Blue Note)

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After records celebrating Nina Simone and Sun Ra, vocalist, bassist and songwriter Meshell Ndegeocello commemorates the centenary of author James Baldwin on No More Water. Staceyann Chin’s passionate readings and synthetically treated spoken word treated synthetically are interwoven with song structures. Vocalist Justin Hicks provides an often angst-laden delivery, and Josh Johnson adds saxophone and synths to the mix. Ndegeocello’s adroit bass-playing and low voice anchor the other disparate elements. The mood vacillates too, with elemental fury succeeded by exceeding tenderness. The album doesn’t reflect the music of Baldwin’s time, instead mixing R&B, funk, and electronica. This makes it no less potent an homage.

Christian Carey

Nidia & Valentina — Estradas (Latency)

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Italian percussionist and multi-instrumentalist Valentina Magaletti and Afro-Portuguese beat-maker Nidia Borges combine forces to produce a set of rhythmic improvisations on their debut collaboration Estradas. Magaletti is best known as a member of London based dub trio Holy Tongue and here uses marimbas and found objects and synthesizers to complement Borges’ Angolan kuduro beats. Their music has the spatial feel of dub but concentrates on African polyrhythms and melodies. With elements of high life and gnawa thrown in, the duo concentrates on making you move as they explore their intersecting influences. The music itself is hugely enjoyable although at times find yourself wishing the songs were harder, faster, less polite. Minor quibbles about a collaboration that feels it has more to offer in the future.

Andrew Forell

Oliwood — Anatomy of Anarchy (Jazzwerkstatt)

Anatomy of Anarchy by Oliwood feat. Evans, Mahall, Landfermann

German drummer and composer Oliver Steidle is constantly searching for new means of musical expression. Each of his projects showcases a fierce resistance to standing still. Genres bleed together in joyous cacophony and each release boasts its own lineup of collaborators. Anatomy of Anarchy is tame in comparison to some of his other work, being firmly rooted in the jazz idiom. Yet it certainly moves quickly, drawing energy from a cadre of high-octane collaborators. Steidle works alongside experienced players from both sides of the Atlantic: trumpeter Peter Evans, clarinetist Rudi Mahall, and bassist Robert Ladfermann spar with him across this lengthy song cycle. Tracks such as “Freaks” and “Bling Bling Frogs” swing with a sense of unison among the team, while much of the other material strays far outside, exploring group improvisation territory. This crew are not afraid to wander, and Anatomy of Anarchy benefits from this adventurous approach.

Bryon Hayes

Ivo Perelman / Chad Fowler / Reggie Workman / Andrew Cyrille — Embracing the Unknown (Mahakala)

Embracing the Unknown by Ivo Perelman

There are plenty of prolific improvisers, but Brazil-born, NY-based tenor saxophonist has earned the right to have his face in the dictionary next to the word’s definition. Embracing the Unknown is one of eight albums released in 2024, each made with a different line-up. The quartet that made Embracing the Unknown is the largest, and it includes some heavy company — Mahakala proprietor Chad Fowler on stritch and saxello (a straight alto and curved soprano saxophone, respectively), and octogenarians Reggie Workman and Andrew Cyrille on bass and drums. Each has a hand in forming the music’s character. Fowler brings a bag of blues everywhere he goes, and while Perelman favors more abstract pathos, the music’s sentiments are darkly shaded; Workman contributes both propulsion and harmonic dimension; Cyrille’s short bursts of sound give the music a floating quality, articulating its progress without tethering to metrical time.

Bill Meyer

Laurence Pike — The Undreamt-of Centre (The Leaf Label)

Drummer Laurence Pike has been a name to watch for nearly two decades now, first in experimental jazz group Triosk, then in explosive synth-rock band PVT with his brother Richard, and more recently backing Angus Andrew in the latest iteration of Liars and as one-third of the drums, synth and sax trio Szun Waves. The Undreamt-of Centre is Pike’s fourth solo album, which arrives with an intriguing premise: what would a requiem sound like constructed out of drums, electronics, and choral voices? The results are often deeply arresting and affecting, especially the opening two pieces, “Introit” and “Orpheus in the Underworld,” in which the wordless vocal tones and swells of rhythm seem to carry an easily digestible internal narrative. The balance between the voices and drums seems to be key to the varying success of the pieces. The cantering beats of “Mountains of the Heart” don’t leave much space for the voices to steer the music, and the queasy ululations of “Universal Forces” are crying out to be ushered into form by the sparse, pattering drums. Thankfully the album’s longest piece, “Requiem Aeternam,” brings a sense of resolution with its sustained ambient tones, driving synth arpeggios, and washes of cymbals and toms.

Tim Clarke

Saccata Quartet — Septendecim (We Jazz)

Septendecim by Saccata Quartet

There’s an observable phenomenon in which the outernaut members of revered legacy rock acts will let their freak flag fly and get substantial audiences of folks wanting the parent band to show up and play a secret gig. Saccata Quartet (Nels Cline, guitar; Darin Gray, double bass; Chris Corsano and Glenn Kotche, drums) is just the sort of ensemble that could lure a Wilco fan out and then drive them back to the bar, grumbling and disappointed; Septendecim was even recorded at The Loft. Improv heads might come with their own set of expectations; this writer has distant memories of a multi-drummer concert at Chicago’s Hideout that involved Corsano trying to curl up inside a bass drum, and Gray and Corsano have played plenty of volcanic free jazz in the company of Mars Williams and Akira Sakata. But if you put aside expectations and put up your active-listening antennae, something else takes form here that is very good on its own terms. The quartet eschews rock gestures and gonzo energy that diffuses individual identities in favor of a more texturally derived intensity that is generally pretty quiet... until it’s not.

Bill Meyer

Shredded Sun — Wilding (Self-Released)

Wilding by Shredded Sun

Shredded Sun has been at it for a while now, first in the jangle-punk Fake Fictions and now four albums into their current iteration. A lifer vibe of the best sort, then, hovers over these punchy, vulnerable, pop-punk songs. They sound like reticent, literate Yo La Tengo crashing into the Pixies at a four-way stop. When bass player Sarah Ammerman sings, as on caroming “Shake the Clouds,” a warbly, Muffs-style enthusiasm bubbles over. When Nick Ammerman, the guitarist, takes over, a tremulous Feelies-into-Jonathan-Richman aura creeps in. The music pummels and jangles and struts no matter who’s in front, with excellent, energetic drumming from third member Ben Bilow. It’s excellent stuff, creative but crafted with care, occasionally humorous (see final track, “Another Song Called Mirror Ball,” but never silly. It’s what might happen if you just keep doing what you do regardless of whether anyone’s paying attention — you keep getting better and more yourself.

Jennifer Kelly

Luís Vicente Trio — Come Down Here (Clean Feed)

Come Down Here by Luís Vicente Trio

Back at its dawn, free jazz was supposed to change the world. The first changes were mainly technical — can we please untie this chordal straitjacket? — but it was soon aligned in the minds of both audience and practitioner with a broader array of personal and societal liberties. Half a century on, the music endures because in part because it gives musicians the freedom to interact in ways that are uniquely joyous and thrilling. Luís Vicente Trio taps into such opportunities. The themes that trumpeter Vicente brings are skeletal, but just enough to invite a collective act creation that pulses with momentum, expands and contracts like living architecture, and sings with palpable toughness and vulnerability. Sure, you can connect some of this music back to the music of Don Cherry and the Art Ensemble of Chicago on account of its expressive qualities. But within that formal framework, deeply personal shapes and interactions bloom like desert flowers, as vivid as they are time limited.

Bill Meyer

Woody Yang — apple red/dots (Mt. Hazey Records)

apple red//dots by woody yang

Woody Yang delivers a short but solid set of acoustic guitar originals in the Takoma school tradition. Switching between 12- and six-string, he doesn’t break any new ground, but there’s no reason he has to, and his take on the tradition is compelling. Yang certainly knows how to build these kinds of compositions. One of the tracks features his reedy vocals, and another features bongo accompaniment by the audio engineer, but the focus is on Yang’s deft fingerpicking. An auspicious debut.

Jim Marks

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