@curatormagazine posted my most recent essay. Surprise, I write about death again. And Dylan Thomas.
Irony isn’t bad, of course. It allows us to grasp the nebulae of death or time or memory and examine them as things, briefly, because irony is a posture toward existence that grants the bizarre possibility that things like flowers could stand in the place of gigantic death. We need it. But in the end, the metaphors of irony’s garden are ridiculous little signs. If we forget that and carry on tending our metaphors, or worse preserving them as though they lived beyond their moment; if we forget that there is real life and death beyond these things, or maybe even a god that makes and sustains these things, then soon enough, all of existence is rendered ridiculous. Elegant maybe, but absurd. See more: http://www.curatormagazine.com/seth-wieck/hammer-through-daisies/
Hammer Through Daisies
“Lantern, Name Thy Bearer”, an excerpt from a long story I’ve been working on, was selected as a finalist in Narrative Magazine’s 2013 Spring Contest. Here’s a list of the finalists, a group in which I’m proud to be found:
Jerad Alexander On Our Next Stop in Modern War
Robert Bausch Rescue
Joe David Bellamy Bad
Stephen Carson River of the Crumbling Banks
Camilla Collova The Year I Grew Up
Pete Fromm Grief
Roberta Gates The Man Who Wore Violets
Nhi Huynh Caught
Katherine James Fishhook
Louise Marburg Poor Bob
Elizabeth Mosier Animator
Lynn Stegner Cedros Island
Seth Wieck Lantern, Name Thy Bearer
– See more at: http://www.narrativemagazine.com/node/223484
P.S. The inimitable msodradek looked at it this summer and made some much needed suggestions, for which I’m very grateful.
Finalist in Narrative’s 2013 Spring Contest
Like Shelley and Blake, Melville was charmed by the individualism and heroic striving of Milton’s Satan, and he imbued Ahab with the same sense of outsized self-mythologizing. His rereading of Paradise Lost during the composition of Moby Dick significantly altered the novel’s meaning and mythic scope. The extraordinary fact is that as late as 1849 (Moby Dick was published in 1851), Melville had yet to conceive of Captain Ahab and was focused instead on the non-epic bildungsroman of a shipmate called Ishmael. Take Milton’s Satan away from Melville and you can forget about the earthshaking achievement of Moby Dick.
The Writer as Reader: Melville and His Marginalia by William Giraldi
Once again, the fine folks @curatormagazine have posted one of my essays. I have a few more scheduled over the next several weeks, so I’ll keep you informed.
My nephew Jude was stillborn. The diagnosis came early in the pregnancy: an extra chromosome written into the genetic language would lead to, among other maladies, a terminal heart condition. A period on a sentence still being thought. Yet. Inside the womb, Jude was vibrant. Strong even. I felt him kick my hand through my sister-in-law’s stomach. The reality of that touch was difficult to reconcile with the doctors’ predictions. The doctors had narratives built from a battery of tests and data, but I had flesh upon flesh.
His Tomb Is With Us To This Day
The task theology has to fulfill is continually to stimulate and lead [the community] to face squarely the question of the proper relation of their human speech to the Word of God, which is origin, object, and content of this speech.
Barth, Karl. Evangelical Theology: An Introduction. William B. Eerdman’s Publishing Company, Grand Rapids. 1979. p 41.