Evil Editor was setting the hands of the plastic Evil Editor-Will-Return-Clock to 3 pm when he saw the strange figure with a lobster on a leash approach. Evil told himself there were always a few “characters” who showed up at these things, but by then he was cowering in a lump on his desk, having a certifiably unreasonable fear of crustaceans in general and lobsters in particular.
“Good Afternoon!” said the strange man with the lobster, “I am Gerard de Nerval. Jack Kerouac recommended you.”
Evil could barely sputter in response. A petite but feisty blond nearby intervened, much to Evil’s relief, and offered to take the lobster for a walk. Evil regained his composure and was seated.
“I am hoping you will be interested in my story. It concerns a young gentleman who has fallen in love with Adrienne, who does not return his affections, possibly because he has never declared himself to her. When Adrienne is sent to study at a distant convent, the young man mistakes her absence for death. He is devastated and takes comfort in the company of Adele, who is a proper girl from a well-connected family. One night he meets an exotic dancer, Sophie, and the passion and excitement he thought he might never know again is rekindled; Sophie is almost identical in appearance to Adrienne, his departed love. He continues the sordid trysts even after he and Adele are married in a lavish wedding celebration in Nice. But even as Sophie is starting to feel the pangs of Catholic guilt, Adele is beginning to suspect her husband of infidelity. In a dramatic denouement, the gentleman is confronted by all the women he has loved and finds he must adjust some long-held beliefs or lose everything.”
The blonde and the lobster approached at a stately pace. Evil thought quickly. “Here’s my cell,” he said, handing a card to the author as he shoved the yellowed manuscript into his laptop. “Ditch the blonde and the lobster and call me in an hour!”
--ME
Sunday, July 27, 2008
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9 comments:
Oh man, I totally want an Evil-Editor-Will-Return alar clock!
Er, alarm clock. Proofread comment *before* hitting the submit button.
Wow. The things you learn in an EE writing exercise. This guy's quite the character.
Strange and lovely.
--Bill H.
A shaken Evil, interesting touch.
This was fun, and I especially enjoyed the line about Evil's "will return by" clock.
Are fugitive lobsters as bad as fugitive emissions?
Manon, Manon is that you?
Good work.
I liked it. I read some of his stuff when I did a tutorial in modern French poetry, but I didn't know about the lobster. It's not mentioned in the version of AT THE DROP OF A HAT that I have.
Good reason to fear lobsters:
From Publishers Weekly:
The latest in Dedalus's Euro Shorts series is a surreal anti-fairy tale featuring a bizarre trio of star-crossed lovers. Plucked rudely from the sea, Lobster finds himself in a tank in the Titanic's dining room, watching in horror as Angelina, a beautiful young opium addict, devours his father. Lobster himself is dropped into boiling water three days later, but is saved when the Titanic hits the iceberg and, red but alive, he's sent careening through the flooding ship. He finds Angelina trapped in the death grip of her male companion, frees her with his pincers, realizes that he feels human lust for her and, in a startling scene, brings her to her first-ever orgasm. They escape to a lifeboat, but Lobster falls overboard, and the book's next movement concerns the lovers' attempts to experience such ecstasy again. Angelina loses her clitoris to the pincers of the wrong lobster, and Lobster, feasting on Titanic dead, befriends Jules, a Newfoundland tattoo artist/fisherman, whom he hopes will somehow take him to Angelina. Meeting Angelina on a ship to France, Jules (who's brought Lobster along in a basket) falls in love with her too. With its fortuitous encounters and near misses, its moments of sweet affection and suicidal despair, Lecasble's tale manages to be both tender and appalling.
From Booklist:
Lecasble's first novel marks the latest formal move in a career that has already progressed from painting to filmmaking to children's books. Is it surprising, then, that Lobster is a story of changing forms, like something out of Ovid's Metamorphoses?
Lecasble has perhaps learned equally from film and Rimbaud the dreamlike impetus of his prose, which sweeps impossibility, and the reader's possible disgust, before it. Ludicrous and macabre, as well as erotic, this is some kind of tour de force.
EE, would you have bought this?
Um, ew, tal. Sounds like John Irving meets A. N. Roquelaure (aka Anne Rice). And not in a nice way either.
Sarah, I came across LOBSTER because a scene from it appeared in the Literary Review's annual Bad Sex Contest.
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