Seriously, I wish I had thought of this first. Hope somebody enjoys my two cents...
The Devil’s Holiday
My slightly serpentine lisp was about the only clue that may have given me away. I was taking a vacation, and I wanted none of the usual trappings to hold me back from relaxing and enjoying myself. The greasy almost curly, almost shoulder length hair under a grey plaid trilby hat and oversized black plastic framed glasses all screamed what would have a few years earlier been called a hipster, but at the time registered in public awareness as little more than a poseur. Nothing worth noticing for long enough than it took to ignore.
That was the plan, anyway. And I’m not the type to have my plans messed with. The constant pressure on the prince of darkness to always “be on” had worn a deep gouge into my awareness. So I packed up and took a little stroll upstairs. The standard picture people carry of me is that I enjoy tormenting lost souls, and that eternity is the only time span quite long enough to sate my need to do it. And they’re right… to a degree. I exist for that very purpose. Mortals the world over look to me as an example of purity. Pure darkness, of course, but purity is purity.
The only problem with that is that it gets rather boring, day in and day out tormenting the same souls into eternity. The vast creativity (no You-Know-Who is not the only one capable of creating) necessary to not go blind raging mad with performing for eternity in front of an eternally growing audience is not as taxing as you might think. It is actually eternally more taxing than you could ever imagine.
And hence, I donned the “I would really rather you ignore me” garb and went on a bit of a holiday. Nobody seemed to notice when I strolled out of the water onto the beach. Of course nobody had kept count of how many had gone into the water in order to later say “wait, too many people came out”.
“Is it really safe to go in there?” A couple who seemed as though they had never seen more water than could fit into their bathtub were quite terrified of the ocean in front of them. I smiled and told them there was nothing to worry about. I was being pleasant. An intriguing change for me.
Of course, I, being the strange loop that sends anything I meet into an infinite regress ending only at uncertainty and suffering, could only do that as a façade. The poor couple wound up eaten by a shark. The same shark I had smiled to and greeted on my way in from the sand bar.
The funny thing is, after I returned home, and resumed my duties, I “went easy on them” and promised never to make them go near any water. I still can’t keep from grinning whenever I consider just how unpleasant an eternity without water must feel for a creature whose very being is composed of the stuff.
My holiday was quite fun. I realized just how much those mortals and I have in common. We both change our appearances, make ourselves up to be whatever we think suits us best, act out our existences just so… and in the end, we all come back to where we started. Things balance up that way. I’ve worn many outfits over the years, some more recognizable than others. Some you would be surprised to find out were me. Of course, when you add it all up, there I’ll be. Just around the corner. Right there in the shadow. Maybe laying out in the sun on the beach. You never know where you’ll find me, but I promise I’ll be there. And I promise not to disappoint.
Steven Hall
www.thepensivepenguin.com
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chilling. and cheerful.
ReplyDeleteThanks, I meant for it to be lighthearted and cheery. Kind of the lighter side of dark humor.
ReplyDeleteI like the idea of devil as entertainer and being exhausted by the Sisyphean task almost as if it were his prideful punishment. He often is the most (or one of most)interesting characters be he from Faust, Paradise Lost, Brothers K. I can't remember who said this, maybe Norman Mailer, but every artist has a secret desire to put on the devil's coat and assume the role.
ReplyDeleteCertainly, the mischievous prankster is always a fun role, and this little bugger is the king of them all. But seriously, it is so common to think of an artist as god... you know, the whole creator thing... but really, the way we (fiction writers at least) dream up our numerous charges and pull their strings trying to make something worth reading out of them we really are more closely related to the other end of that spectrum.
ReplyDeleteYeah, I agree. Art is often about pushing limits and exposing cultural taboos, many works we uphold now as great were at one time or another banned. Interestingly we would like to think nothing could be banned in America today but actually Swedish writer Fredrik Colting's 60 Years Later: Coming Through the Rye can't be published in the states. Copywrite issues(moneyed interests) is one of the current bogey men. I'd liked to see stories about mickey mouse, batman, or actual people placed into literature.
ReplyDeletehttp://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2009/jul/02/publication-salinger-sequel-blocked
True true, and Batman is such a potentially wonderful literary character. Just his existing genesis and mythology are enough to provide plenty of room for tons of depth and exploration into so much more than the comics have done. (Not to take anything away from the comics, they're great too)
ReplyDeletePushing limits is what draws me to Murakami, and Bulgakov (interestingly enough, I believe he is still banned in Russia and the bulk of his writing hasn't been translated) and magical realism type fantasy in general. There is the surface of our reality that we have grown familiar and comfortable with, but what really lies just beneath where we've bothered to look? Where might I wind up if I take just one more step beyond where I feel comfortable? That can be (and most often is) one hell of a step.