Why Trilogy

Five years ago, I was decidedly anti-trilogy. I wonder if it isn’t worth talking about why I’m writing one now.

Forms are fascinating to artisans and artists. Boiled to the core, a series of books is a dream that continues again upon a new sleep. A form of living ideas enhanced by the quantum matter of the space between them. Time spent resting, reading other things, resuming later when the mood strikes, the moon is high, and the mind is ready again.

There’s this book I never finished reading except in stages, like a serial text. So dense and rich I had to rest. My bookmark lingered long. When I resumed the text I was lost. Sifting through the old pages, losing my place even as I tried to find, not the memory of events, but the flow of them in sound. It isn’t that one needs to recall that the grandmother died saving the christening goose, but how it happened in the weight of the hours, days, and memories. No time for this, I went to work, made dinner, cleaned the house and walked away. No time to carry that dream. Returning again and again to grandmother’s goose to read the book. When I got along a ways, all I could remember were the plot points that I had to scan so many times to read the text that I never kept the dream of things in mind. In other words, dense text, art and craftsmanship separated by design. Expectation of a reader with a life, appointments and assignments, who cannot hold a dream for six long months each night.

I ask less by my divisions that I may ask more inside each dream.

Paul Jessup calls them cuckoo’s eggs. Imagine it as incubation. Rest a while and let the egg rest. Three memories made but each is only asking for a weekend or a week. taste this drink and think. taste again to believe. Taste one more time to love or hate or feel nothing after a meal that is divided into courses instead of a jambalaya melange.

Dig? Take a breath. Breathe. Think of all the possibilities, until the truth comes to strip it all away. Death hangs at the end of the road for Jona. Death is not quantum. Oh

O but think.

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