A Reaction to Three Short Stories in China Miéville's "Three Moments of an Explosion"
A Condition of New Death
A Condition of New Death features the crosshatching of a bewildering event and a familiar newspaper report format. In A Condition, events that we consider impossible are treated as near-normalcy, as no bigger an event than a new strain of disease or a new tragedy, giving the audience almost the feel of culture shock.
While many of the viewer's questions were answered, these only opened up more. A Condition details the "what" of New Death very thoroughly, describing the timeline of events with care as any journalist would. However, the "why" and "how" are never addressed, leaving you only to wonder. The laws of physics themselves were altered to create the phenomenon of New Death, and yet, no one within the world of the story seems concerned with why or how such a bizarre event is possible.
It leaves me open to wonder myself what other possible mind-bending events have caused the people to be so conditioned to be prepared for New Death. Or, perhaps, enough time has passed between the present time of the story and the initiation of New Death that the people of this fictitious world are accustomed to it.
The very nature of death, of reality, is altered, and so it naturally affects all aspects of life, like culture or religion. New Death is always capitalized as if it were a being itself. New Death is spoken about almost as if, possibly, it was a higher power, or served an unknowable higher purpose. The end of the story changes tone from reporter to preacher-like in its qualities, highlighting that New Death was more than just phenomenon, but an evolution of humans. Where do people go after they die of New Death? Where do people go after old death? The last paragraphs ominous tone engenders a feeling that this new reality has consequences beyond prediction.
"We must proceed according to a presumption that we might have something up to which to live, that there might be a telos to all our upgraded dead, that we might eventually succeed in something, that we might unlock achievements, if we die correctly. And, conversely, that if we do not, we will continue to fail.
What the stakes of that success and that failure might be, none of us yet know.
We will all learn." (Miéville, 27)
New Death offers unknowable consequences to a new, unknowable change in reality that makes the reader critically think about the nature of their own reality. How are they unlocking achievements in their own life? Is death meaningful? These questions beg you to uncover that death may or may not have meaning, as only actions in life might give death it's meaning. What this meaning is, "we will all learn."
A Second Slice Manifesto
A Second Slice Manifesto also features a common format, something of an artists statement for a new movement, with a bizarre scenario. At first, the weirdness of this scenario is kept hidden from the viewer, and at first seems like an innocent enough manifesto.
It struck me as odd, at first, that the movement describes itself as strictly representational, but envisions the piece as a series of lines and shapes that seem abstract. As well, noted as being paintless in large sections with abstract colors and shapes, and yet depicts very clearly an image of pedestrians on a Paris street.
The second sign of oddity came in the language. The opening's unclear narrative and direction was contrasted so sharply with vivid words like cadaver, "temnic", slice, and cut. The sting of these words can be felt like bullets to the mind as I raced to understand, but the work purposefully keeps you lagging behind, as if wanting you to feel unprepared for what you are being asked to do.
As if referring to a piece of art as a cadaver wasn't weird enough, A Second Slice Manifesto also insisted that you refer to your artwork as being "hanged" and not "hung". Notice though, that in proper grammar, objects like artwork are to be hung, and living things like people are to be hanged. This allusion to artwork as a person, a body once living that has been killed, gives A Second Slice a very haunting feeling. As though everyone knows something you don't. As you piece together that you are "cutting" the piece to reveal new information within it, you feel yourself like a murderer.
A Second Slice establishes that every painting is a window to an entirely new reality. This reality can only be revealed by the process of cutting away at the painting. The cutting feels like a violation of the painting because you are cutting what is superficial to get at what the painting, artist, or perhaps the universe never meant you to see. In order to grasps this concept you need to think beyond what a human is capable of, and see things beyond the superficial.
The scariest part of this passage, like the last one, is the ending. A Second Slice mentions an unknown, all moving creature that lives in all images, watching you. Waiting, as if hunting, or for motives unknown. Suddenly, you feel less like you are the one violating the image and more that the image is looking back. You feel as if you, too are being laid bare by an entity who watches you through these windows to realities you have never thought twice about.
Säcken
One of the most interesting characteristics of Säcken to me was it's use of language. Though the environment felt cold, grayish, foggy, and wet, it somehow felt alive, as if hiding just beyond the obscurity. To accomplish this, Miéville uses unusual adjectives and verbs to personify the landscape.
"Grass pulled at her. She walked toward the dark chop of the lake. Mel found her book and picked it up and brushed it clean. The wind came up. Mel let the water wet the toes of her trainers." (Miéville, 111)
In this excerpt, you can see that using active words make the environment of the lake feel like its dragging Mel down. In "allowing" the water to wet her trainers, the water seems to have a mind of its own, as the grass as it "pulled". There seems no need for such a violent sounding noun as "chop" to describe the lake, and yet, Miéville chose it for a purpose.
Another interesting technique was to make reference to dark, ominous things if parts of the sentence are taken out of context. For example, "The shore was littered with dead, bleached plant matter." seems far more horrifying without the word "plant". Using such vivid terms for such a calm scene lead one to think that something big had once happened, or will happen again. The environment feels like a dormant energy. Another example is "Even in the sunlight the dark water amputated her hand only a few centimeters down." (Miéville, 111) in which the word "amputated", a very violent word, is used to depict her hand simply disappearing from view.
All of this compliments the power of the lake, and mounts the feeling of being hunted. Even before we knew there was a creature in the lake, Mel saw lights above the water or heard sounds with seemingly no source, but thought nothing of them at the time. The line "She watched the lake and eventually smiled at Joanna, whose attention was the only one she felt on her." personally gave me chills. The line feels like a threat. Just because it was the only attention she felt, it doesn't mean it was the only attention at all that was focused on her. We are haunted not by what we can see or experience in much of Säcken, but what is left to our imagination.
A Condition of New Death features the crosshatching of a bewildering event and a familiar newspaper report format. In A Condition, events that we consider impossible are treated as near-normalcy, as no bigger an event than a new strain of disease or a new tragedy, giving the audience almost the feel of culture shock.
While many of the viewer's questions were answered, these only opened up more. A Condition details the "what" of New Death very thoroughly, describing the timeline of events with care as any journalist would. However, the "why" and "how" are never addressed, leaving you only to wonder. The laws of physics themselves were altered to create the phenomenon of New Death, and yet, no one within the world of the story seems concerned with why or how such a bizarre event is possible.
It leaves me open to wonder myself what other possible mind-bending events have caused the people to be so conditioned to be prepared for New Death. Or, perhaps, enough time has passed between the present time of the story and the initiation of New Death that the people of this fictitious world are accustomed to it.
The very nature of death, of reality, is altered, and so it naturally affects all aspects of life, like culture or religion. New Death is always capitalized as if it were a being itself. New Death is spoken about almost as if, possibly, it was a higher power, or served an unknowable higher purpose. The end of the story changes tone from reporter to preacher-like in its qualities, highlighting that New Death was more than just phenomenon, but an evolution of humans. Where do people go after they die of New Death? Where do people go after old death? The last paragraphs ominous tone engenders a feeling that this new reality has consequences beyond prediction.
"We must proceed according to a presumption that we might have something up to which to live, that there might be a telos to all our upgraded dead, that we might eventually succeed in something, that we might unlock achievements, if we die correctly. And, conversely, that if we do not, we will continue to fail.
What the stakes of that success and that failure might be, none of us yet know.
We will all learn." (Miéville, 27)
New Death offers unknowable consequences to a new, unknowable change in reality that makes the reader critically think about the nature of their own reality. How are they unlocking achievements in their own life? Is death meaningful? These questions beg you to uncover that death may or may not have meaning, as only actions in life might give death it's meaning. What this meaning is, "we will all learn."
A Second Slice Manifesto
A Second Slice Manifesto also features a common format, something of an artists statement for a new movement, with a bizarre scenario. At first, the weirdness of this scenario is kept hidden from the viewer, and at first seems like an innocent enough manifesto.
It struck me as odd, at first, that the movement describes itself as strictly representational, but envisions the piece as a series of lines and shapes that seem abstract. As well, noted as being paintless in large sections with abstract colors and shapes, and yet depicts very clearly an image of pedestrians on a Paris street.
The second sign of oddity came in the language. The opening's unclear narrative and direction was contrasted so sharply with vivid words like cadaver, "temnic", slice, and cut. The sting of these words can be felt like bullets to the mind as I raced to understand, but the work purposefully keeps you lagging behind, as if wanting you to feel unprepared for what you are being asked to do.
As if referring to a piece of art as a cadaver wasn't weird enough, A Second Slice Manifesto also insisted that you refer to your artwork as being "hanged" and not "hung". Notice though, that in proper grammar, objects like artwork are to be hung, and living things like people are to be hanged. This allusion to artwork as a person, a body once living that has been killed, gives A Second Slice a very haunting feeling. As though everyone knows something you don't. As you piece together that you are "cutting" the piece to reveal new information within it, you feel yourself like a murderer.
A Second Slice establishes that every painting is a window to an entirely new reality. This reality can only be revealed by the process of cutting away at the painting. The cutting feels like a violation of the painting because you are cutting what is superficial to get at what the painting, artist, or perhaps the universe never meant you to see. In order to grasps this concept you need to think beyond what a human is capable of, and see things beyond the superficial.
The scariest part of this passage, like the last one, is the ending. A Second Slice mentions an unknown, all moving creature that lives in all images, watching you. Waiting, as if hunting, or for motives unknown. Suddenly, you feel less like you are the one violating the image and more that the image is looking back. You feel as if you, too are being laid bare by an entity who watches you through these windows to realities you have never thought twice about.
Säcken
One of the most interesting characteristics of Säcken to me was it's use of language. Though the environment felt cold, grayish, foggy, and wet, it somehow felt alive, as if hiding just beyond the obscurity. To accomplish this, Miéville uses unusual adjectives and verbs to personify the landscape.
"Grass pulled at her. She walked toward the dark chop of the lake. Mel found her book and picked it up and brushed it clean. The wind came up. Mel let the water wet the toes of her trainers." (Miéville, 111)
In this excerpt, you can see that using active words make the environment of the lake feel like its dragging Mel down. In "allowing" the water to wet her trainers, the water seems to have a mind of its own, as the grass as it "pulled". There seems no need for such a violent sounding noun as "chop" to describe the lake, and yet, Miéville chose it for a purpose.
Another interesting technique was to make reference to dark, ominous things if parts of the sentence are taken out of context. For example, "The shore was littered with dead, bleached plant matter." seems far more horrifying without the word "plant". Using such vivid terms for such a calm scene lead one to think that something big had once happened, or will happen again. The environment feels like a dormant energy. Another example is "Even in the sunlight the dark water amputated her hand only a few centimeters down." (Miéville, 111) in which the word "amputated", a very violent word, is used to depict her hand simply disappearing from view.
All of this compliments the power of the lake, and mounts the feeling of being hunted. Even before we knew there was a creature in the lake, Mel saw lights above the water or heard sounds with seemingly no source, but thought nothing of them at the time. The line "She watched the lake and eventually smiled at Joanna, whose attention was the only one she felt on her." personally gave me chills. The line feels like a threat. Just because it was the only attention she felt, it doesn't mean it was the only attention at all that was focused on her. We are haunted not by what we can see or experience in much of Säcken, but what is left to our imagination.
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