Plotted: A Literary Atlas

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Plotted: A Literary Atlas Page 4

by Andrew DeGraff


  cross — and made a convincing case that hu

  -

  mans already had the technology to make the

  world a much smaller place.

  Jules Verne was initially inspired by a news

  -

  paper article (or so the storygoes) about travel

  -

  ing around the globe. Clearly,he grasped the

  right idea at the right time. Someone

  could

  do

  it in such a short amount of time, especially

  with railroads recently built across America and

  India; but up to that point, no one had. It was

  a time when the optimism of the burgeoning

  technological age seemed almost to be running

  behind the technology.It was a world where

  telegraph lines and steamboats were fueling

  the British Empire., and it would eventu

  -

  ally pave the way for the global society we live

  in today.What the time period lacked was an

  evangelist for this brave new world. And by

  stacking his work of science ction with scien

  -

  tic facts, Verne managed both to thrill and to

  persuade in equal measure.

  Readers of the serialized novel took Verne’s

  words so seriously that bets were even placed

  on the question (which seemed real enough) of

  whether the ctional Fogg would actually arrive

  in time. Before the century was out, daredevil

  journalist Nellie Bly took up Fogg’schallenge

  and managed to nish the trip with two days

  to spare. It was ocial: the future had arrived.

  Justas Verne took care to deal with the real

  -

  ity of transportation technology at the time of

  writing, we too have taken careto represent the

  vehicles as they really were (at least as far as we

  were able). But the primary thrill of this book

  lies not in verisimilitude but rather in Phileas

  Fogg’spassionate chase of a technocratic

  dream. His days are numbered here as he spans

  continents and overcomes an almost endless se

  -

  ries of obstacles (not to say treacheries). As in

  so many other travel stories, the journey ends

  at the same place where the journey began; but

  as with so many other travel stories, everything

  has changed in the meantime. e London

  where Fogg completes his circumnavigation is

  part of a dierent world entirely.

  •

  Phileas Fogg’s

  Incredibly Credible

  Circumnavigation

  From

  Around the World in Eighty Days

  By Jules Verne

  1873

  67.

  A

  merica may be the

  land

  of the free, but

  the two leading contenders for the title

  of “great American novel” actually take place

  on the water. ForMelville, the ocean contained

  all of humanity’sgreat secrets (and metaphors);

  but for Twain, it was the water itself that was

  the key. In

  Adventuresof Huckleberry Finn

  ,

  the

  river is both the setting of the novel and its cen

  -

  tral theme. And the fact that it also paved the

  way (so to speak) for the American road movie

  is just an added bonus.

  Although Huck Finn was born in a chil

  -

  dren’sbook (namely,

  e Adventures of Tom

  Sawyer

  ), his own story is not for kids. But

  like so many children’sbooks,

  Adventures of

  HuckleberryFinn

  is deeply concerned with

  morality. Its metaphors and characters inter

  -

  act so organically that it’s often easy to forget

  that the river really exists. It is always changing

  yet always right there, and always in tension

  with itself. But Twain’sriver (and, because he

  was a former riverboat pilot, it really was his

  river) is something more American than this

  enduring ancient symbol.

  e Mississippi is a river that literally di

  -

  vides our nation. It’sa river that, for Jim, is the

  only road to freedom, and it only runs one way:

  toward theslave-holding states. And with every

  mile that Huck and Jim travel south, the more

  perilous their journey becomes. But this is a

  comedy as well as a tragedy (with the tragedy

  mostly taking place o-stage), and as a result,

  the more danger they encounter, the more out

  -

  landish the scenarios become.

  As with so many great stories, danger lurks

  around every bend, but it is people who arethe

  trouble, and most of the people are on land. Life

  on the river is thus “free and easy and comfort

  -

  able.” It’san oasis in every way.Once the pair

  passes Cairo, however, it’shard not to view the

  antebellum South as some sort of asylum for

  the ignorant and insane. On all sides, the two

  are surrounded by hucksters, racists, zealots,

  bloody-minded aristocrats, and simple-minded

  fools. Early on, Tom Sawyer accuses Huck of

  having no imagination, but it is Huck’srole as

  skeptic and arbitrator that illuminates the book

  and the people around him. Always being grap

  -

  pled with by people on both sides, he stays in

  the middle. He denes his own morality,makes

  his own course, and continues on.

  is map attempts to borrow Huck’s wis

  -

  dom and follows the river just as Twain pres

  -

  ents it: as a simple trail of water, heading in

  a single direction, which nevertheless is full of

  endless complexity and confusion. Sometimes

  a river is just a river; but at other times, it’s

  certainly not. After all, if you’vegotten to the

  bottom of the Mississippi River, then you’re

  probably dead; and if you think you’veheard

  the last word on Huckleberry Finn, then you’ve

  probably stopped listening. Rivers aren’trivers

  when they stop moving.

  •

  Huckleberry Finn’s

  Mississippi River Journey

  From

  Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

  By

  Mark Twain

  1884

  71.

  N

  o one would call Franz Kafka a kid-

  friendly writer exactly,but his works have

  a lot in common with children’sbooks. Like

  them, Kafka’sworks possess a profound sim

  -

  plicity of vision and rely in large part on humor

  for their emotional impact. But thereare also

  times when Kafka’sstories and novels engage

  with the central, and essentially childish, ques

  -

  tion of who we are, what our nature truly is.

  And this question is as proper to humans as it

  is to Babe the sheep-pig.

  Red Peter begins his “report” bydeclaring

  that “it is now nearly ve years since I was an
<
br />   ape,” but insisting that his distance from that

  state is identical with that of the humans in at

  -

  tendance. He cannot become an ape again any

  more than they can. We are eerily proximate

  to our prehistory here, but with the blunt tool

  of language we cannot quite grasp it. Wecan,

  however, begin to draw a line (“the line an erst

  -

  while ape has had to follow in entering and es

  -

  tablishing himself in the world of men”). Or, at

  least, Red Peter can. He has traveled that line.

  It is a journey from unconsciousness to con

  -

  sciousness, from pre-language to language, and

  it oers us everything while telling us nothing

  about what we want to know.

  is is a survival tale stripped down to its

  barest details. When Peter, injured and insult

  -

  ed, is imprisoned in his cage, he knows only

  one thing: “no way out.” No physical way out,

  anyway (Red Peter pointedly refuses to use the

  word “freedom”), but the will to live drives him

  to seek “any” way as opposed to none. And

  here is where the continuous line that he draws

  splits dramatically apart. Red Peter is forced to

  live, “yet as far as Hagenbeck was concerned,

  the place for apes was in front of a locker —

  well then, I had to stop being an ape.”

  Red Peter does not say that he achieved this

  change in an instant, but there is no way to ac

  -

  count for the birth of consciousness. He points

  to the discrete moments — the sense of im

  -

  prisonment, the desire to get out, the pipe, the

  bottle, and the word (“Hallo!”) — but he can

  -

  not take us with him on his journey.It ispast

  and gone forever. He can, however, reect on

  what it is that he has achieved from a new and

  unique perspective. And as it was for Adam and

  Eve, so it is for Peter: ere is a price to pay. As

  he puts it, “One learns when one needs a way

  out; one learns at all costs.”

  e best way out is any way out, and the

  only way out is humanity’s, so Peter takes what

  is available to him. But his unspoken past re

  -

  mains — in his mind, as in his mate’s(“a half-

  trained little chimpanzee and I take comfort

  from her as apes do”) — and this unspeak

  -

  able yet deeply felt knowledge reminds us that

  consciousness itself is not an answer. In fact, it

  might be better to say that consciousness is the

  entryway into the trial that is our lives. And as

  Peter suggests through his willingness to take

  his trousers down to show “the plain truth,” his

  eort, like ours, remains fundamentally absurd.

  (is is, in the end, the story of a talking ape

  after all.)

  •

  An Education

  From “A Report to an Academy”

  By Franz Kafka

  1917

  79.

  Innite Intelligence

  From “The Library of Babel”

  By Jorge Luis Borges

  1941

  H

  ell has been imagined in a nearly innite

  number of ways, but in all of these end

  -

  less variations — from

  e Epic of Gilgamesh

  to

  e Inferno

  to

  Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey

  — hell is always (and forever) a landscape, an

  environment, a place. Or, as Borges puts it:

  “e Universe (which others call the Library) is

  composed of an indenite number of hexago

  -

  nal galleries… one after another, endlessly.” It

  is this sense of geographic burden, the idea of

  always being

  here

  , that allows “e Library of

  Babel”

  to function as both a philosophical es

  -

  say and an existential horror story.

  Although the story is delivered in the style

  of an instruction manual (one that is sur

  -

  prisingly hard to follow,it should be said),

  there is also a thrilling pace to it, as the true

  nature of this world is revealed in layers.

  First we encounter the individual cell (“hex

  -

  agonal galleries, with vast air shafts between,

  surrounded by very low railings”); then the

  knowable world for a typical librarian (“I am

  preparing to die just a few leagues from the

  hexagon in which I was born”); and only then

  do we get the God’seye view of this entire uni

  -

  verse (“e Library is total… its shelves regis

  -

  ter all possible combinations”). It all sounds so

  straightforward, but complexity and paradox

  are infused throughout. e original, simple-

  sounding cell is actually quite dicult to imag

  -

  ine (or recreate, in this case). And despite the

  incredible size of this universe, it is, on a hu

  -

  man scale, cramped and claustrophobic (“there

  are two very small closets. In the rst, one may

  sleep standing up”). But these details do not get

  us any closer to comprehension. Innity itself

  is full of paradoxes. And Borges, in these few

  pages, is constantly shifting our perspective,

  taking us to the brink of things and throwing

  us o. Like the librarians of his story, the hu

  -

  man mind forever teeters on the brink when it

  comes to questions of the innite.

  As Borges teases out the implications of

  his library,Borges’sskills as a philosopher are

  immediately evident; but he was also a writer,

  and as the story closes, the focus shifts again,

  as the nightmarish depths of this world expand

  to take on the emotional fears of the author as

  well. After all, this is a world that contains

  all

  books, and as a result, any one book that an

  author may write is of vanishing importance.

  e clearest, loveliest, wisest volume takes its

  place among the shelves, as does the volume

  containing a repeating series of M’s, C’s, and

  V’s. Our narrator holds out hope that order, at

  least, is present here. But as with all things at

  the Library,that dream is double-edged, as it is

  that same order that will allow his body to fall,

  unobstructed, to his grave in “the fathomless

  air.”ese maps, in some ways, require little

  imagination. Borges’swords have already creat

  -

  ed this world, but even when conned on four

  sides it remains perilously easy to go plunging

  into the abysses it implies. Man, the imperfect

  librarian, can never rest easily here.

  ere are no arrows on this map because, as

  readers, we are everywhere and nowhere.

  •

  84.

  Convergi
ng Paths

  From “The Lottery”

  By Shirley Jackson

  1948

  “

  T

  he Lottery”

  is almost as famous for its

  reception as it is for its contents. After it

  was published in

  e New Yorker

  in , the

  magazine received a barrage of letters and calls.

  People were furious with Jackson for bringing

  such darkness into their lives. But many sto

  -

  ries are dark. (H.P.Lovecraft had only died

  ten years before, after all.) Something else was

  happening here. Something that perhaps could

  best be described as “uncanny.”

  We recognize the town in “e Lottery”

  and accept it without hesitation. Itis a typi

  -

  cal, familiar place, lled with typical, familiar

  names: Adams, Allen, Bentham, Clark, Dun

  -

  bar,Graves,Hutchinson. And although we

  sense that something here is rotten, the man

  -

  ner in which we as readers tend to discover

  this story — in a prestigious weekly magazine,

  in a library,or in a freshman English class —

  makes the reveal just that much moreshock

  -

  ing. And no matter how many times we read it,

  the shock always comes. is crime should not

  be happening. Not here. And yet we also know

  that it couldn’t happen any other way.

  A black spot indicates the sacricial vic

  -

  tim. But that black spot infects and implicates

  everyone in this unnamed town, killers and

  killed alike. And it implicates us as well. In

  the same way that a certain level of abstraction

  allows us to project ourselves into characters

  and concepts (like Mickey Mouse, love, clouds,

  et cetera), this town’sblank demeanor and non

  -

  descript patronymics force us to consider the

  ways in which we unintentionally (not to say

  unwillingly) subscribe to thousands of lesser

  crimes against our neighbors. e German

  word for uncanny is

  unheimliche

  — the negative

  expression of

  heimliche

  , or “homely.”We are

  both profoundly at home here and yet pro

 

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