Michael S A Graziano, The Divine Farce, Leapfrog Press, 2009.
It is I think telling that Graziano's The Divine Farce features within its pages a multitude, and quite possibly an infinitude of bodies that eat, drink, and copulate with Sage (the novel's narrator) there are only three actual characters and even here the name's are Sage's own inventions.
I don't generally "get" fiction, this book being the first novel I have read in at least a year. In spite of this I did find this short book (only 125 pages) immensely compelling. Of the reviews I have read most seem to read this book as an allegory the human condition, and I am sure they're right. However, and I suspect this interpretation is a consequence of my own neuroses, I could not help but find in the text an allegory of the humanity's metaphysical search, it's search for the grand arche that, once discovered, makes the seemingly complex clear. While notions of deity are only implied the reference to the divine in the title seems to point in this direction. But before interpreting the text let me introduce it.
The novel opens with three people ensconced in a concrete cell, not enough room to stand or sit but instead three tangled bodies lumped together for time immemorial and, quite possibly, for eternity. A prison, with no knowledge of what preceded the incarceration, a living hell for no discernible reason. The only sustenance being a pear nectar that ran down the cell walls. Existence, to the extent that there was any existence, was hopeless - the narrator, Sage, opines:
We should have been grateful for the nectar, but it didn't succeed in mollifying us. We stamped, we shouted, we pounded on the walls. Of course we did. We felt sick with panic. We shook with rage. We sobbed. But none of it helped. If I hit the wall, slamming it with the soft part of my palm, lunging at it with my shoulder, I accomplished nothing more than a wet slapping sound, a dull ache, and a bruise that I could feel afterward for a while. None of us could hear any indication of a hollow space behind the wall. its solidity was so absolute that I lost the ability to imagine emptiness outside the microcosm. In my mind the the universe was filled up infinitely with concrete, and at its center was one tiny bubble in which our randomly assorted souls had been entombed (p. 9-10).
What is interesting about the text is that for all the anger and futility quite soon anger turns to resignation, and even contentment and the developing "mutual harmony" of the cramped conditions. And this is where, in my own neurosis God enters the fray. The mutual harmony is shattered when the previously impenetrable cell is revealed to be penetrable after all and in a cruel twist just as Sage is resigned to an eternity of horrid but not quite unbearable existence locked together with his two companions the wall begins to slowly show signs of degradation. At first this was just a gritty residue on the tongue after drinking the pear nectar that dripped down the walls but with the possibility that the hitherto impenetrable cell is in fact vulnerable Sage is left with an existential dilemma. The possibility of escape therefore becomes both intriguing, hopeful and terrifying. What the hole in the wall however indubitably showed that sooner "or later, the entire surface was going to wear away around [them]. [They] were evidently not in eternal stasis" (26). Despite protestations from his companions and the inherent terror of entering the unknown the hole "had to" be developed and the wall torn down so as to see what, if anything, lay beyond it.
It is here that I felt such empathy with the Sage character, for it seems an analog of my own feelings regarding religion/God. Life, however constricted and shitty, would seem so much more amenable without the "God Hypothesis", and yet I must still engage theology. It is both a matter of reluctance and compulsion.
And so Sage digs his way out of his heaven/hell (Graziano maintains a real ambivalence throughout the text). However, on escaping one prison even though he does with his fellow detainees Sage falls to a far more expansive prison. Even though he had been cramped, unable to cramp or stand, the cavernous expanse prefigures a more severe confinement as soon the "mutual harmony" of the three co-prisoners is shattered as Sage overcome by the need to explore becomes detached and although surrounded by a multitude of bodies there is no mutual interaction on a 'real' level - even sex is impersonal.
And yet the desire to question, to seek what lies beyond continues and Sage spots another hole high in the Cave's ceiling, another window into what could but probably won't be a portal to a better future. In this way the story continues. The metaphysical search continues but it would be easier to cease, and yet Sage continues to move beyond the result is a yet deeper level of hell/heaven.
In this way the novel reminds me of Camus' interpretation of the Myth of Sisyphus although inverted, there is always a search for an arche, it will never be found, we know it will never be found, the search for it is itself regressive but nevertheless the search must go on. To refuse is suicide.
Highly recommended, it is definitely among the most thought provoking texts I have read this year.

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