At their core, the two works that make up Eckhard Gerdes’ The Unwelcome Guest plus Nin and Nan (2010, Enigmatic Ink.) are both about paranoia and its role in modern life. The Unwelcome Guest follows the seemingly haphazard events in the life of a man at the mercy of Greater Forces (Life, Culture, Society, Work, Love), while Nin and Nan is about a couple pushing back against those Forces, whether they be the constant buzz of cars on the road near their home or the powerful yet moronic Emperor who controls the land with the iron fist of a fascist (and who is lovingly named Pinocchibush because… well, if you don’t know why then I can’t help you there). Plot and Narrative not being particularly important to these works, that’s perhaps even more of a synopsis than the adventurous reader should require. We’re talking about following a writer’s thoughts and digressions and playful shaping of words more than we’re talking Story or Character. Indeed, the two title characters in Nin and Nan are never described, and remain androgynous throughout the work… always Nin and Nan, never she or he.
In reading these stories I was swept from sentence to sentence, scene to scene, feeling many of the images without really understanding them… letting them take me away on drifts of rhythm and flow. Like closing your eyes and listening to a free-form piece of music and not expecting it to take you anywhere… certainly nowhere close to such things as verses and choruses. Gerdes’ prose here (particularly in The Unwelcome Guest) certainly feels like a run of stream of consciousness, and it’s possible to let it affect you that way, but there is also a distinct sense of deliberate thought. And yet, deliberate thought or no, Gerdes’ work remains alive, organic, a writhing and coiling critter moving in and out of narrative lines. Serpentine, shall we say, like a snake exploring new surroundings.
In The Unwelcome Guest his prose moves fluidly from scene to scene, often within the same sentence, taking the reader from setting to setting and thought to thought without pause or segue. It’s dizzying, but in a good way. Intoxicating may be a better word. Reading Gerdes feels much like getting a pleasant buzz from a charming bottle of wine.
There is humor here, too. Copious amounts of humor, shot all through these two stories.
Example A): “I wasn’t going to be accused of mishandling the warehouse materials. The penalty for that would be a semester of only freshman composition classes….” (The narrator of The Unwelcome Guest is a Professor of English).
Example B): “I can’t wait to see the swimmers submerged in Greece.”
Example C): “And so they talked about her role in an elaborate play designed to humiliate and disgrace Pinocchibush, forcing him at the least to abdicate his throne as had his father, Pinocchiclinton, whose nose grew out of his pants.” (From Nin and Nan).
But there is insight and wisdom, as well. My personal favorite: “[m]ost activists are hedge trimmers. Most real writers are root-killers.”
Indeed. Or this, also in regards to writing and the state of modern American culture: “We’re not writing for baubles or trinkets, are we? Respectability means something. No? We’re not a carny sideshow of solipsists on ice. And we’re not all heathens.”
Eckhard Gerdes may indeed be no heathen, but he most certainly is a real writer. One of those root-killers. Not (despite his aforementioned humor and playfulness) a carny sideshow freak or chicken-eating geek or fire-breathing tightrope-walking tattooed jokester. Nin and Nan is a particularly strong-willed work, attacking (via satire and absurdity) the fascist ways of the Bush administration and its abuse of Executive power to fight the amorphous (the dangerously amorphous) “war on terror.” Despite it’s playfulness and engaging sense of the absurd, it is a serious attack on that era and its main players… a salvo meant to do harm to such ways of thinking, or at the very least to pester them like a gadfly.
One of the most striking aspects to these works is the control Gerdes has over his writing. Never once does it feel like he’s losing control, despite the random, dizzyingly serpentine changes to mood and scene he allows his prose to pursue. Lesser-writers who attempt forays into avant-garde literature find their words slipping out from underneath them, and any semblance of control going out the window. Simply put, those writers don’t know where they’re going or any idea why they were headed in that general direction in the first place. Gerdes has complete control over his material and his medium, which allows him to engage the reader in ways much avant-garde works do not.
Such control also allows Gerdes to play off of what has gone before him: among various meta-fictional touches (like naming a narrator Gerdes, or slipping from third-person to first in Nin and Nan), I thought I even detected a Walter Abish-inspired alphabet game at the end of one of The Unwelcome Guest’s chapters. Which may have come effortlessly to Gerdes, flying out of his brain and onto whatever he writes with without any forethought whatsoever… but retaining control over spontaneous events and actions is part of how a confident artist handles the random and the unexpected. One must be quick to adapt to whatever comes up, and expert enough in their chosen art form to react with images of meaning and power.
And now:
Eckard Gerdes humor Example D): “I kept myself busy by reading avant-garde fiction—you really should read it if you haven’t.”
Oh wait, that’s not humor, that’s wisdom. And really, that’s also all that needs to be said about The Unwelcome Guest plus Nin and Nan by Eckhard Gerdes:
You really should read it if you haven’t.