by Charles Yu
(q) A wonders: Can I be with a woman who, however lovely, does not understand how to hold all else constant? How to isolate a variable?
A thinks:
i. she will see it my way;
ii. she will change for me;
iii. I will educate her.
B thinks:
iv. he is lonely;
v. I can make him less so;
vi. I will change for him.
4. A spent seven years (2,557 days, 4,191 cups of coffee) in the town of (6,3).
He was writing his thesis (79 pages, 841 separate equations). A's thesis is on nonlinear dynamic equations.
(a) In it, he discovered a tiny truth.
(b) When he had written the last step in his proof, A smiled.
(c) A's tiny truth is about a tiny part of a tiny sliver of a tiny subset of all possible outcomes of the world.
(d) When A brought it to his adviser and mentor, the esteemed P, P smiled. A's heart leapt.
(e) P said: What it lacks in elegance, it makes up for in rigor.
(f) P also said: What a wonderful minor result.
5. A and B are sliding down a frictionless inclined plane. They are accelerating toward the inevitable. Domesticity. Some marriages are driven by love, some by gravity.
6. THE THREE-BODY PROBLEM
Things continue to get more complicated for A, now traveling in an elliptical path around B. B remains fixed, giving birth to their first child. Doctors and nurses orbit B periodically.
(a) Given the mass of A (now 80kg) and the mass of B (now 55kg), calculate the gravitational force between A and B using Newton's universal gravitational formula: , where G is the gravitational constant.
(b) Imagine the situation from the stationary perspective of B. As bodies whirl around you, you focus on the pain, the quiet place, the baby. Look at A, who so lovingly paces around you, worried about your health. You wonder: What is A thinking?
(c) Now imagine the situation from A's perspective. You wonder: What if the child turns out like its mother? What if the child does not understand theory? You've spent so many nights lying awake with B, trying to teach her how to see the world, its governing principles, the functions lying under it all. Hours spent with B as she cries, frustrated, uncomprehending.
(d) This is what is well-known in the field of celestial dynamics as the three-body problem.
(e) Put simply, this is the problem of computing the mutual gravitational interaction of three separate and different masses.
(f) Astronomers since the time of Kepler have known that this problem is surprisingly difficult to solve.
(g) With two bodies, the problem is trivial. With two bodies, we can simplify the universe, empty it of everything but, say, the moon and the earth, an A and a B, the sun and a speck of dust. The equations are solved analytically.
(h) Unfortunately, when we add a third body to our equations of motion, the equations become intractable. It turns out the mathematics gets very complicated, very fast.
(i) A has only recently begun to feel comfortable predicting B's path, B's behavior, her perturbations and eccentricity of orbit. And now this, he thinks. Another body.
(j) B screams with the agony of natural childbirth. She looks into A's eyes. What is he thinking, her A, her odd, impenetrable husband? Will he make a good father?
(k) A thinks generally about the concept of pain. A has a witty thought and would like to write it down.
7. MOMENT OF INERTIA
(a) A and B are not moving (VA = VB = O). A is in his study, hidden in the corner. He is talking in a low voice.
(b) B, across the house, is watching television.
(c) A is talking to J, who is married to'S. S is a good friend of A.
(d) J is thinner than B. S is older than A.
(e) B is listening to A. S is listening to J.
(f) Also listening: the neighborhood: Theta and Sigma, Delta and Phi.
(g) Also listening: the social circle: Phi, Chi, and Psi. Eta, Zeta, and Nu. Even Lambda has been known to listen.
(h) Others, just speculating, say that A and J would make a good-looking couple. A says no, thinks yes. J blushes.
(i) S exerts a force on J. A exerts a force on B. A wants to exert a force on J, and J would like it if A would exert a considerable force on her.
( j) B is walking down the hall. A can hear B. B can hear A's voice growing softer with each step she takes. A freezes in anticipation, ready to hang up the phone.
(k) B changes velocity, turns, goes into the kitchen, pretending not to hear.
(l) A does not move. B does not move. The forces cancel out. Everyone remains at rest.
8. PARTIAL, SOLUTIONS
(a) renovate the kitchen;
(b) renovate themselves;
(c) go on safari;
(d) go to a "seminar";
(e) make large purchases of luxury durable consumer goods;
(f) make small overtures to an object of lust at work;
(g) take up golf;
(h) find a disorder and self-diagnose;
(i) get a purebred dog;
(j) get religion;
(k) landscape the backyard;
(l) have another child.
9. GEDANKENEXPERIMENT
(a) Imagine A is building a spaceship. He is tired of being pushed, pulled, torqued, accelerated, collided on a daily basis. Losing momentum. He is tired of his thesis failing, time and again. Every day an exception to A's Theorem. Every day he recognizes it a little less—once a shiny unused tool, a slender, immaculate volume. Now riddled with holes, supported with makeshift, untenable assumptions. A's Theorem has not so much predicted the future with success as it has recorded a history of its own exceptions.
(b) It is simplest to approach the problem of satellite motion from the point of view of energy.
(c) Every night for a year, A and B eat dinner in silence. Every night for a year, A lights a cigarette, opens a beer, goes to the garage to work on his imaginary spaceship. Sometimes, he has doubts. Sometimes, he gets frustrated, wondering if it is worth all the imaginary trouble.
(d) And then, one day, A finishes his spaceship. Even imaginary work pays off.
(e) A turns on his imaginary vehicle, listens to it roar. It makes a lot of imaginary noise. B tries to talk over it, but the engine is deafeningly loud.
(f) B shouts at A, right in front of his face. A sees B gesturing wildly. Why is she acting so crazy?
(g) The energy of a body in satellite motion is the sum of its kinetic and potential energies. It is given by the following:
(h) A watches B moving frantically around the garage. A notes that B looks rather desperate, as if she is trying to stop him, trying to hold him, trying to keep him from leaving Earth.
(i) A's spaceship is heating up. It is time, he thinks. He holds the imaginary levers and calculates his trajectory. He enjoys for a minute the low frequency hum as it vibrates through his whole body. His future opens up in front of him.
(j) He is moving now. His past sealing itself off, trailing farther and farther behind him.
(k) The escape velocity, vesc, of a projectile launched from the surface of the earth is the minimum speed with which the projectile must launch from the surface in order to overcome gravity and leave the vicinity of the earth forever.
(l) His imperfect theorem, his imperfect credit, his imperfect house, his imperfect bladder, his imperfect hemorrhoids, his imperfect gum disease, his imperfect career, his imperfect penis: gone. Also gone: the history of his interactions, his past collisions, his past. A has finally achieved his major result. He is free from the unceasing pull of gravitational memory.
10. A is in deep space. The solar wind is at his back, pushing him along at a rate of 0.000000001 m/s.
At this rate, it will take the rest of his life to travel a distance of just over eight feet. B is on a space rock, watching A drift by glacially. Imagine you are B.
(a) Imagine you are 20m from A. Close enough to see his face. Close
enough to know his shape. Close enough to imagine contact.
(b) You have a rope. If you can throw it just right, you may be able to tie yourself to A, turn his course, affect his trajectory. You will not be able to stop him, but you may be able to make sure that wherever it is he drifts to you end up there as well.
(c) Assume you are of average strength. Assume you are of above-average compassion, patience, will, and determination.
(d) If you throw the rope and miss, what happens? If you never throw the rope, what happens?
(e) Imagine you will spend a period of eighty years within a few meters of this astronaut, a man in an insulated space suit. Imagine it is possible to drift by this man, staring at him, as he makes his way into the infinite ocean of space.
(f) You will never know any other points, other problems, the mysteries of biochemistry, the magic of literature, the pleasures of topology. You will know only physics.
(g) You will never know what it feels like inside his suit.
(h) You will never know why you are on this rock.
11. INITIAL CONDITIONS
A is on a train traveling due west along the x-axis at a constant velocity of seventy kilometers per hour (70 km/h). He is carrying a suitcase (30kg) and a small bound volume (his thesis; 0.7 kg; 7 years).
He stands at the rear of the train, looking back at the town of (6,3): a point full of sadness, an origin of vectors, a locus of desire; a point like any other point.
My Last Days As Me
The new woman is not as good as the old one. Me doesn't like her and neither do I. On her first day, I discover three things about the new woman:
(1) She is too short to play My Mother.
(2) She doesn't smell right.
(3) When she puts on the fat suit, she doesn't look like My Mother—she looks like a woman in a fat suit.
This causes a number of problems in the Tender Mother-Son Interactions at the end of every episode. For one thing, because she is so short, I have to lean down, really almost crouch, just to put my face near her face for the close-up.
And when I'm that close, it's hard to concentrate because she smells so weird. If I can't concentrate, I can't make the face for Showing Tenderness. And if I can't make the face for Showing Tenderness, how am I supposed to properly evoke Tinged With Melancholy?
***
As Me. my primary job is to evoke Tinged With Melancholy. as often and as accurately as possible. For example:
Episode 4.572.011
— DINNER IS REALLY GOOD, MA
FADE IN:
— INT. FAMILY KITCHEN—EARLY EVENING
ME
Dinner is really good. Ma.
MA
No. It's not.
ME
Yes. it is. It's really good. Ma. These beans are really buttery.
MA
Are they too salty?
ME
No. they're not too salty.
MA
Too salty. huh?
ME
No. not at all. Not too salty.
MA
Too salty. I know.
ME
(sudden, disproportionate anger)
No. Ma. they are not too salty. I didn't say that. Why would you say I said that? These beans are buttery. These beans are perfect. These are perfect goddamned beans. They are beautiful and they are not too salty. Why don't you ever listen?
MA
I'm sorry. You're just being nice to me. They're too salty.
ME
Oh my God. Ma. I just said. Oh my God. Ma! These beans are buttery. They are not too salty. Don't say sorry. I love these beans. I love them so much. I'm not just saying that. I know they're beans. I know they're just beans. and it might seem silly. but I really love them. Please. please. Don't say sorry. Please don't say sorry again.
MA
Sorry.
ME
I just said don't say sorry. What are you sorry for? What could you possibly be sorry for? I swear, if you say sorry one more time, my head is going to implode.
MA
Sorry.
ME
(suddenly tinged with melancholy)
I'm sorry. I'm sorry I yelled. Why are you sorry? Don't say sorry.
MA
Sorry.
***
Just to get things straight: Me is sixteen years old. I am twenty-two. I have been playing Me for as long as I can remember. In that time, three boys have played My Brother and eight women have played My Mother.
I admit, My Mother is undoubtedly the hardest role on Family. When casting each new My Mother, they have, I think, tried to pick a woman age-appropriate relative to Me and My Brother. The first one I barely remember, except that her skin was quite warm. The fifth My Mother was also very good. She taught Me to tie Me's shoes.
The most recent one, I miss her. She had started slower than any of them, during the Puberty Season. But she worked at it. She was always working at it. The technical aspects: Martyr Complex, Unbreakable Matriarch, Weight of the World. During her run, every show had a direction. Every gesture had a purpose.
Her last year was her best. That was the season Me finished high school a year early. My Father was written out of the show, the excuse being something about infidelity. The guy just wanted out of his contract. He'd been there for too long and didn't like where his character was going: the show's anchor, a stable presence, a jocular, asexual, Harmless Bearded Sitcom Dad.
That last season was the best in the history of the program. Me and My Mother averaged nearly fourteen Tender Interactions per week. Ratings for Family were at an all-time high. My Mother cried Pitifully almost every episode. She had Large Problems. It was beautiful to watch her Suffer. A true professional.
***
This new woman, however, is not a professional. I realize that following her predecessor would be tough for anyone. I didn't expect it to go on forever. I'm realistic. If anything, I'm realistic. But this new woman. She's out of left field. She's a complete stranger. I suspect she has never played a Mother before in her life. For one thing, there is the smell. And, as I mentioned, she does not wear the fat suit very well.
Her first show is a disaster.
Family is in the middle of a six-show arc: Me gets a Love Interest, Me loses the Love Interest, Me learns a Lesson About Loss.
The scene we're shooting that day is just about the easiest scene she could ask for. Me is expecting a call from the Love Interest and goes looking for the cordless phone. Me enters My Mother's bedroom to get the phone.
Episode 4,572,389
— HEY, MA, HAVE YOU SEEN THE CORDLESS?
FADE IN!
— INT. MY MOTHER'S BEDROOM—EARLY MORNING
ME
Hey, Ma, have you seen the cordless?
My Mother is lying there, dressed to go to the supermarket, on top of the covers.
MA
I think you left it on the kitchen counter.
ME
Thanks.
The scene should have ended there. The previous woman would have ended it there. But the new woman, she has ideas of her own.
MA
(openly needy)
Can you stay in the room?
"What are you doing?" I whisper.
MA
I don't want to go to the supermarket. I don't want to go anywhere. I just want to talk to you.
None of this, of course, is in the script. I try to explain.
"There's no Interaction," I say. I vigorously mime holding a script. I try pointing to an invisible page and shaking my head.
She takes this to mean I am offering a Tender Embrace. This is bad. She comes toward me in her ill-fitting fat suit, tears already welling up and smudging her makeup. Her face is a mess. I definitely don't want to have a Tender Embrace, when it isn't in the script, when it is early in the morning and her breath is certain to be odd-smelling, when I barely know this new woman.
It goes without saying a Tender Embrace in the middle of "Have You Seen
the Cordless?" is incongruous bordering on offensive. Me has done this scene a million times, and never has there been a Tender Embrace. Not to mention the Openly Needy. Openly Needy in the middle of an ordinary show. That's what bothers me the most.
ME
(pretending not to have noticed My Mother's open neediness)
Oh, there's the phone.
MA
(like a little child)
Can you stay for just a minute?
ME
(trying to avoid an interaction) Thanks for the phone, Ma.
MA
(like a little child)
Please?
Me turns and walks out the door. My Mother weeps softly. The director yells cut.
***
Afterward, I go out back to have a cigarette. The guy who plays My Brother is there smoking in the alley.
"Hey, man." He pulls another one from behind his ear and lights me. "Hey," I say.
This is what I know about the guy who plays My Brother: His name is Jake; he smokes a lot. In Family, he plays My Brother, who is fourteen, but Jake is actually older than me. Exactly how much, I am not sure, but he has crow's-feet and gets a five o'clock shadow by the middle of the morning. Usually we don't say much to each other.
"She'll get better," Jake says, to no one in particular. "It'll get better."
"Well, it can't get much worse."
We smoke a lot. We don't say much to each other.
