. Spinning .

Related to the previous posting on how life sequences can often be encapsulated in lyrics, I found too that readings often require what is commonly called suspension of disbelief, that is, willingness to accept the possibilities, therefore effectively squelching that little voice that says "but it can’t!"

In Sandoval, the main character of Ham is trying to account for life happenings by pinning it down to unknown formulas that could possibly apply.  By asking "if", the potential opportunity to find an answer widens to a tree-like graph of branches of thought and patterned with leaves of circumstance.  But answers don’t always come in clearcut patterns, just as looking at the sky through leaves is a composite of layers that happen at the same time, overlapping without touching each other in different planes of depth and, at different times.  So what one sees is never what is seen by another.  Never the same to the same again.

Very often in literature, as in life, a tempering tone of "nothing is real" — the 70s version of today’s "whatever" is helpful.

The author, Steve Ersinghaus, as a professor of Creative Writing, naturally knows the elements of story and has seemingly adhered to the basics without falling into the trap of making them so obvious that it circles around on itself to present a formlike piece of writing.  This is what often happens when  talent or lack thereof is hidden beneath the cloak of impeccability of doing it by the book.  It’s why there’s a certain lack of something in so much of the the writing fresh out of Workshops or MFA holders; it’s proper, but it’s blah. There’s no worry of that here; Ersinghaus has the talent.

The setting of the deserts of the southwest for the major portion of the story is unsettlingly haunting.  There’s a terrible beauty to it as Ersinghaus describes it, because it holds so much of the main character’s life within it, yet keeps it secret from him.  Ham Sandoval, after schooling out east returns to the area of his birth because he feels it within him that what he seeks, a brother taken from him in youth, the answers to a madwoman’s mind, the shadow of a father, can only reside in wisps of memory here.  There is description of the land that paints an image that makes even a born New-Englander want to discover it.  And when the country is unyielding, the sun is not warming, but cruel.  Ersinghaus knows the area and has laid it out the way he feels it.

The interesting implementation of the hypertext format makes the plot depend upon the reader’s whim or skillful manipulation.  I’ve likely traveled through more than a thousand textboxes by my own two steps forward, one step back approach but the planning out of the story to make whatever path was taken work is exceptionally well done by Ersinghaus.  One thing led to another; one thing bloomed from another; one thing added to another; all working together regardless of its non-linearity of structure.  Behind the scenes, of course, there is a linear progression of story, but the reader doesn’t come up upon all thoughts and recollections in a regulated timeline.

There are several structures beneath the main story of Ham Sandoval that relate to his way of thinking, his character, and his life story.  His work in string theory affects all other aspects of his life and in his efforts to overcome and understand, his application of theory likely comforts him in making some sense of it.  Numbers can be your friends. 

Here there may be a difference of opinion as to how much you need to know about black holes and string theories and such, but being at the low end of the scale and willing to do even the slightest research I found that I still was able to completely enjoy the narrative.  I would guess that someone of Ersinghaus’ interests or knowledge would be even more fulfilled by the story, finding the information within these data bits alone to enhance it.  But I wouldn’t be put off by the technical science as even Ham appears to use it philosophically in his reflections.

The writing is superb.  My feeling at the end of my readings was one of awe because this same guy who taught me loads about writing and has inspired me has by his novel just washed away all hope for myself. There’s talent that can never be taught–the element missing in classrooms no matter what level is reached.  What I’ve learned is what I’ve learned to recognize, and that is in itself an achievement.

There are themes and motifs that even the narrator, Ham, seems to bring to the reader’s attention.  Water, certainly roads, and I would add trees and its multiple as forest or woods, and in the character, memory and loss.  Ham questions his beginnings. But what they are and how they relate to conclusion is something he only understands by the end of this portion of his story.

For conflict and tension Ersinghaus has  added many smaller confrontations to the overall arc of story that outlines Ham’s emotional and mental search for his brother. And these episodes are not without strong impact themselves.  Facing violence, crime, human suffering and political turning points show us Ham’s character even as it brings to the reader’s attention many of the  problems and heartrending tragedies of today’s society.

The novel was written and is read in the Storyspace software environment.  I’ve seen this and played with a demo, and while it evidently makes the writer’s work easier, it is a complicated looking mapping of plots at the same time it is the most organized and easy to work with.  It’s a challenge to write in, I’m sure, and one that this novel has taken to full advantage.  For the reader, unless you have the stubborn resistance of one such as I, you’ll immediately love the experience, though it clearly is not the same as reading a book.

While my opinion may have the slightest tinge of bias as the author is known to me, I have tried to be as neutral and honest in my commentary.  Steve Ersinghaus is a damn fine writer. But there’s a lot to bring to this novel, more than a student of his can bring in admiration alone. The reader of The Life of Ham Sandoval needs to be open to ideas, needs to accept what is given and needs to consider each piece of information given carefully.  He must also be willing to accept that one doesn’t negate the other if in conflict.  Both, and all, could be right.   

One of the things peculiar to hypertext is that you never know how close to the end of the story you are at any given point. Having the advantage of the history box and being clever and resourceful, at one point I was able to count the number of text tags in the menu, keep flipping in groups of that number, add the flips until I got the slider at the halfway mark, double what I’d added up, deduct a percentage for the backtracks, and have an estimate. Much easier with a book (three quarters’ done by looking at the closed book or number of pages for better accuracy); a glance at the clock for a movie or tv drama. 

So the ending came unexpected.  While I felt it answering the questions and approaching what would be a viable ending, I could still imagine the story feasibly going on from there.  Even when it ended, it ended at the beginning and even when I thought it had ended, going back to reread I took a right-hand turn and went through a different path that within just a few boxes changed the entire story for me.

Tomorrow at some point I’ll do a wind-up on this and cover the story as well as offer some final thoughts on how the hypertext format influenced the reading of this novel.

While a writer in any form has the majority of control over pacing, a reader can still put down a book–through hard to do in the middle of dramatic action unless your phone is ringing.  Basically, the building up of a scene includes tension and conflict and resolution and this is controlled by short sentences, concise wording, etc. as well as chapter breaks. 

In hypertext format, there is less control over where the reader is going to go next, so since a single linear narrative is not the case, all roads must lead to hell. You know what I mean; to a satisfaction of scenario. 

What I’ve just read through in this novel was dramatic and ongoing (in the present?), and it came to a resolution so things calmed down, then Ham went off on a tirade of what if’s to a couple of ladies and then, both sequences really ended with this:

(Ham on empty space)

I heard wind and water. Another car being washed.  The women were gone. I unrolled a sore set of fingers, opening my palms to the sky. I had to laugh at myself, at this empty space.

Ersinghaus controlled the reading by not having links available during the two main dramatic sessions.  After a couple of textboxes, I wasn’t pressing the CTRL key to even check, moving swiftly (in step with the writing) from one box to another, following the proper course of events.  The final entry as given above is a breather for Ham the same as it is for the reader.

Along with string theory–and I’m not sure it isn’t coincidental (!) to it–there is the theory of coincidence that takes up much of Ham’s reflections.  The excerpt below is very illustrative of the idea:

(Ham on coincidence)

If I acknowledge hunger then others must acknowledge it at the same moment. Much as I write or link or speak this, many of the words in sequence are also being spoken or written or imagined simultaneously, as the lateral patterns enlarge and branch and intersect. I shout. Some gent named Barnes or Flores shouts, too. Four of us, a Chilean, an Alaskan, Belgian, and Taiwanese, shout. We become an anonymous and coincidental cult of shouters.

Without understanding the basis for Ham’s belief that "others must acknowledge it at the same moment," I’ve pretty much just read by this particular plot.  However, I’d come to this:

(Cervantes on Ham)

"What’s a name without a history?  Names can be meaningless, mere labels.

And the thing here is, see, I’d just e-mailed someone mentioning the labels that names can become.  Not the exact moment as reading this–a day or two prior; not the time this was first written–any time within the past few years.  Coincidence?

Does this mean then I’m more open to Ham’s theories on a parallelity (I know, but say the word out loud and you’ll love it) of events?  If I seek rationalization, or justification’s likely a better word, I might point to the theory of there being only 37 plots in life, or that most folks being used to a lunch being taken around mid-day are bound to be eating together.  Too, the increased population betters the odds.

Or I can just go along with the flow.  Certainly I’ve wondered what a particular someone was doing exactly at this moment but halfway around the world. This is common, especially when loved ones are away somewheres.  And the fact that someone is doing exactly what I’m doing now is not all that odd–I’m at the laptop.  I’ve been struck sometimes by the thought of Instant Messaging, or online classroom forums, which there must be some knack to skillfully communicate because I always find myself typing at the same time the other person is and we hold a most rude conversation by talking over each other.  Yet I’ve held great conversations via e-mail and perhaps the reason is that it’s a hit or miss that you catch each other and if you do, you focus on a conversation.  I’ve saved lotsa money this way when a phone call to Florida or New Hampshire or Arizona would’ve run up a bill.

But multiple happenings concurrently, unplanned but exact.  An odd thought that will tickle my mind until I’ve sorted it out.

(Ham on heads)

(…) I thought I might follow just to see or confirm. But I might have been here before, some leg of life unmemorized thousands of years ago or into the future. Why make the journey again if just to circle back?

Here’s Ham, alone in the desert, and this is the way that he thinks.  He has much more difficult to understand thoughts as well when he gets into time and space and motion and theory, but the above gives an easier to understand version of what’s going on in this character’s head. 

He also applies these intellectual philosophies and intelligent calculations to much of his daily living routines and yet without being a jerk about it.  In the background, of course, is the history, the future, of his brother, Geronimo, and his mother.  So he’s obviously very smart, very dedicated to his seeking of universal answers, and still a likeable, caring person.  So what’s he see in Pen?

It doesn’t matter.  He’s taken with her.  Albeit a charming and exciting trait, Pen’s predisposition of offering grounding then flying off on newly grown wings would be, I should think, the very thing that Ham would avoid, would fear, based upon his losses of loved ones before.  Perhaps the Butlers provided enough for him to have overcome what might have crippled emotionally a less stable personality.  Perhaps Ham, in his patience with Pen, is unconciously setting a trap that once sprung by the least of the ghosts, Pen, will make up for all the rest in this single capture.  Maybe he’s just a masochist.

The main thing is to not try to tell the character what he should do: Go find yourself a nice lady who loves kids and cooks like a chef–Ham’s mother being one to liquify food before serving, another path to explore next time I come up to it. An interesting proposition, not knowing exactly what’s in Ham’s mind, not knowing if he himself knows, or cares, or is just clicking on links same as I.

One thing I haven’t touched on to any depth is the characters and their relationships to each other.  Obviously Ham, as the main character and first person narrator is exposed by his perspective of the story which is all we really have to go on.  But through his relationships we see the other characters in two ways: how Ham thinks of them and how we instead might interpret them through reported dialogue or action.

So I’m not crazy about his girlfriend, Pen.

He is, and that’s perhaps where I see most clearly the separation of writer/character to be necessary, even more so than the reader/character situation.  In simpler terms, it’s the "I’d never do that" effect.  The writer then, is allowing the character to behave in a manner that perhaps most readers would not, and more importantly, he would not.

Through conversations and meetings and reunions we may judge for ourselves the relationships and certain things become clear by reinforcement–which often comes at odd times when you’re dealing with hypertext, and always at different times for different readers.  For example, it’s obvious that Ham loves Pen, Ham and McKenna are good friends, and that Ham and his "sister" Maria were and will always share a bond.  In Ham’s relationship with Pen, however, I find my acceptance of her free and easy ways to be self-centered.  She is a user.  She also loves Ham and likely seeks him out whenever she needs to find whatever it is she’s looking for.  And then she leaves.

What makes me wonder about how much I am influenced by the nature of hypertext is that since time is efficiently available at command–past, present, future all at a click–it may seem to me that Pen’s comings and goings are one thing, away a long time, back for a minute and gone again. And as I follow Ham’s life in between these spaces, when Pen comes back it is almost an intrusion and I think I resent her for that.

And perhaps it is only because of my own reading style in the hypertext environment that Pen behaves as she does. 

Engage the senses, the books say.  Poetry teaches this and poetry shows it best:

(Pen on Geronimo)

Pen looked white and vulnerable herself on the bed, her naked legs folded beneath her, her eyes glittering with sins to come.  We’d lit candles and opened the sliding doors to let in the scented night breathing off the mountains, cricket chirps and night larks owling.

"eyes glittering with sins to come."  That describes the moment and it describes the future.  Maybe Ersinghaus is right; maybe they’re one and the same. 

We get the sound, the scent, the visuals and the imaginings, i.e., "larks owling."  I personally love making nouns do the work of verbs. 

Movement:  "the night breathing off the mountains."  Touch:  the warm smoothness of skin on skin in "her naked legs folded beneath her." 

There.  In a couple of sentences, we’ve been asked to open ourselves up completely.

This, part of a conversation between Ham and a friend:

"I haven’t read a book in about ten years," I said.  "I don’t trust them."

Priceless.

UPDATE:  And the next box is even better–though I can’t reveal it.  It’s shades of a green chair and a man reading a murder mystery.  It’s…it’s…wild.

UPDATE #2: The green chair refers to Julio Cortazar’s A Continuity of Parks.  (s-thanks).

I don’t think it’s any big secret that I’m the teeniest bit of a control freak.  Nor that for a long time I nodded and smiled while deep inside me lurked a festering resentment against hypertext, IF, gaming, or any other means by which the reader rebellion could claim victory over the author.

How can you plan a story out so carefully (said she who has never plotted from A to B but creates instead in response to the "voice" inside her head) and then leave it up to some smudge you’ve never met to read it right? (insisted I.)  How indeed can you foresee and plan for every possibility so that some jerk doesn’t fuck mess it up?  How can I trust someone not to turn it into a farce?  (I wailed.  Inwardly.  Silently. Because I’m extremely polite.)

There is an added pressure on the author of hypertext story.  Loose ends must be glued to another strand of thought or episode.  Characters may drop out of a scenario but there must be damn good reason.  And, they must be returned before they’re forgotten. 

Ersinghaus has a well thought-out story line here, though I would think that it may be considered several, it still is focused upon the main character Ham Sandoval in various segments of time that come to the forefront when needed, (omigosh–I just got an image of a grid with covered words or pictures that you have to select in pairs and match, or re-cover and remember and try again). 

There is Ham Sandoval’s youth, his memory of his mother, brother, and what he was told of his father.  There is his teenage years with the Butlers and his closeness with Maria.  There is his first teaching position, then his switch to journalist.  And there is his love interest, Pen, who weaves in and out among the blocks of time, as does the string theory and black holes and water (and trees!) that provide the bindings of narrative structure.

Ersinghaus, being the proper English Professor minus the stuffiness that accompany some, has not disregarded the primary elements of story, the need for conflict, tension, and more thought-provoking and timely topic matter (meaning political–just can’t get away from it…) that serve as the high points, the blips on the arc of whatever curve the story has taken you–or rather, you it. What each of these conflicts accomplish may be a moral decision, a character revelation, a statement on human oppression that surprises the reader–but stays with him.  And this is for two reasons:  one, it has a certain subtle shock value and two, the problem doesn’t get solved.  Just like in real life.

It is admirable to watch how an author has knit together a coat that covers a character.  And while I would call this a literary novel, it is not by any means a navel-gazer nor does it require any more from the reader than to tap and click one’s way through it.  Oh yes, and to think about what was just read. 

Finally found a sequence that’s concise and wouldn’t ruin the reading for others to illustrate what I’ve been saying are the more scientific workings of Ham Sandoval’s mind that he applies to his view of the more mundane reality of daily living:

(Pen on boats)

A squirrel leapt onto a boulder near the edge of the river, the Rio Grande.  The heavy rains had made it swollen and dangerous.  The animal jumped and ran a linear path toward bushes.  (Squirrels may only run forward on an imaginary two dimensional curving plane.  It’s an ambulatory axiom, set into existence at the Beginning.  We move forward on curves because the earth is round, although from our limited point of view they appear as straight lines.)

This one, fortunately, is one that’s more easily understood.  We’ve all known people like Ham, those who think on a different level, whose mind is constantly forming relationships between data gleaned from normal conversation, observance, reading, experience.  Thoughts of sausage and peppers as a possibility for supper will, if uninterrupted by something more titillating to the passionate interest in a particular field, wander into the coordinates, volume, gravitational resistance of a dirigible, all from an image of sausage.

And when it starts to make sense to the reader, as the obvious reference to curvature did to me, it brings one to a new level of understanding of the main character.

Involvement to the point of foreseeing.  To the point of the joy of comprehension.  That see, I told ya! moment that is the rare delight.

A few hours ago I posted on the way that hypertext allows the future to be remembered.  Now you’re going to have to trust me on this one (though I have the history box to prove my path if not the time I traveled through this particular cube of space) but I just read this:

(Ben on the past)

"But I feel that for you remembering is not just about the past, the things left behind, the things lost. Remembering is the future. Think about it. You have empty ground in front of you."

So then the story is the hypertext form, the hypertext form the story. It all ties in so nicely.  With a string.

Beyond story and beyond the provocation of ideas, there is the thought of the author’s choice of the medium of hypertext to present this novel.  I can say that it suits the story theme perfectly, as there are layers and backstory and a randomness of psychological realism that builds the character of Ham Sandoval wonderfully well.  But is hypertext the best way to go?

I’ve come to a point in the story where there are many directions (intersects) via links and while I’m sure I’ve followed my own tendencies to investigate and return (and this habit is really the choice that hypertext offers, rather than making a decision on going a particular way into a story, since that cannot be known until the link is indeed used and the connection is made), there are times when I believe I’ve circled the wagons around an idea and then end off in a new direction.

I’m curious as to how this would set up in a text book format.  There is backstory of course, flashbacks, character thoughts, use of dialogue to reveal or to foresee and build tension.  But with the first person pov that is used in this story it is all dependent upon Ham’s experience to bring us reliably into his head. 

There are many places–and I’m hitting them more and more as I move inward–that I recognize as being from Ham’s childhood. Often these come up seemingly out of the blue although they are cleverly tied to the state of mind of Ham or event that he is experiencing in the prior thread. It’s a nice way of reinforcement and insight, and it’s a very natural manner of thinking when you consider the way a mind works.  It’s that oh, yeah, that reminds me type of normal progression of thought.

There are also a load of text spaces that are Ham’s thoughts on very scientifically based theories of how the world works.  I don’t pretend to understand them but know that reading each carefully may bring me that much further into Ham’s head, with a bonus of having learned a bit more of what may be worth learning. 

I can see how hypertext works, where it works well, and where it may be one of the only methods to bring a story to its fullest and most complete telling.  As a wannabe writer, I’m fascinated by its opportunities as much as I am terrified of its power.

Once again I ran instead of walking through this field of story.  Even as I follow a linear path, the sideroads lure me outward and away.  Two things have me convinced that even with my rather timid profile and a deeply set-in sensitivity to getting lost, I am often out of control and still can romp merrily ahead.  First, the backspace key.  Second, the author’s mapping of the narrative structure that was painfully considered and constructed to bring the reader around and loop if necessary to a plausible flow of story line.  And third, a history tool that may not be available in the final version, but for now can show me every step I’ve taken thus allowing me to retrace my steps or go back to the point at which I veered to follow this illusion or that one.

At one point, I’d hit the wrong button and cleared the history.  Ack!  Then I remembered a trick this same author had taught me about dealing in the game format when I could not escape the inevitable during a certain sequence in the gameplay:  Exit the program and do NOT save. All the bad things you’ve done will be forgotten.

So now my winding trail of history has been recovered and in going down the list I am in awe that hypertext reveals not just a page 1 –> page 2–> page 3–> etcetera reading but rather an almost "memory tank" of names and places specific to a story point that I can easily relate and recall.

Neat. Now I’ll go back and see what sent me crashing like a waterfall down the edge of cliffs and write up a proper post about it.

There’s some beautiful writing here and I’m been waiting for a particularly dramatic section that didn’t reveal too much of plot.

(Ham on movement)

I made my move without regret.  I drifted the outskirts and made my way to the side of the house where I had followed the girl the night before and went around back. I expected a dog, something wet-mouthed and starved crazy for living flesh to flash out and grab me in the guts with hot teeth.  I thought my heart might stop at the thought and I breathed through my mouth.

No extra words, no fancy words, but the drama is exhibited by language that gets right into the middle of the scene and sets it with minute details: "wet-mouthed and starved crazy" makes me see, feel, hear, and fear this dog though the dog does not even exist except as Ham’s imagined expectation.

At this point in the story I’m hitting links I’ve followed before, because of my method of reading crablike, checking out links and following them out before backtracking and taking the main trail I’ve chosen.  Some links produce new data, but even the ones that I’ve seen before serve as reinforcement, may mean something in retrospect that they hadn’t before.  It’s like flipping back to a page you recall with a question brought up by the page that you’re on.