THE EUGENICIST a Thesis Submitted to Kent State University in Partial
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THE EUGENICIST A thesis submitted to Kent State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Fine Arts by Valerie Suffron August, 2009 Thesis written by Valerie Suffron B.F.A., The University of Maine at Farmington, 2003 B.A., Walsh University, 2005 M.F.A., Kent State University, 2009 Approved by ______________________________________, Advisor Maggie Anderson ______________________________________, Chair, Department of English Ronald J. Corthell ______________________________________, Dean, College of Arts and Sciences Timothy Moerland ii TABLE OF CONTENTS ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS. v DEDICATION. .vi I. The Author. .1 The Birth of the Author. .2 An Origin Story. .3 Autobiography. 4 TV. 5 Diagnosis. 6 Preliminary Evaluation. 7 A Medical History. 8 Directive from the Brief Pain Inventory. 9 II. Modernity. .10 Awoke Gray in a Whale Heart. 11 A Conditional Toe. 12 iii The Bone Artist. .13 Mythology. .14 The Wedding. .16 A Christmas Poem. 17 Modernity. 18 Shoe. 21 The Law of Diminishing Returns. .23 III. The Show. 24 Situation One: The Cardinal Directions. .26 Situation Two: The Adjacent Rooms. 28 Situation Three: The Pie-Baking Contest. .29 Situation Four: The Division of Domestic Duties. 31 IV. The Eugenicist. .32 BIBLIOGRAPHY. 60 iv ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Two of the poems in this manuscript, “Awoke Gray in a Whale Heart” and “The Law of Diminishing Returns,” were previously published in the literary journal Caketrain, Issue No. 5. I want to thank all of those who allowed this manuscript to happen, but most especially my thesis advisor Maggie Anderson, who stuck with me when it got rough. v For all those who matter; You know who you are. vi I. The Author 1 2 The Birth of the Author She climbed up out of the wine-dark seabed of uninucleate beings. She felt different. She thought, There needs to be a personal pronoun for this. She tested a few. Flub, flub, flub. Kwa, Kwa. Doobeedoo. Chi-Chi. Vroom. Everything sounded like dance moves. AEIOU!, she sang. She picked one. I. It was tall and slim. Nothing like her blobby multicellular body. I, I, I, I. She liked it. It was something to grow into. Now what? I've gotta do something. I. I am? Too much like a tuber? But it had a certain Zen meditation quality to it, too. I am, she chanted. Well, what was she? There were really only two states of being: Hungry, tired. But she had qualities. Roundish. Translucent. Kinda wiggly. I am et cetera, et cetera!, she cried. Her voice boinged through the air. Who cares? I'm talking to myself out here. But there was the stuff around her. The not-I. It would need naming, too. She thought, This is going to take forever. 3 An Origin Story They were farmers, and the woman, with eyes the dark color of German bread, had long hair and fat haunches and small hands that she used to mold flour and water and fat into pie crusts. The man, tall, with a face the color of marbled beef, worked the ground with his hands, his arms like the boughs of oak trees. He grew the onions and the garlic that she baked with the wild rabbit in the pie crusts that she made. They worked without thought and loved without doubt, but confused nature with their religion. Simple, animal, they bred. Fourteen children, eight of them dead before ten. The man buried them in the woods, digging the graves with his hands, and the woman covered their graves with white pebbles she collected. The six who were left grew up and went out to find others like them, people with dark eyes and small hands, who reminded them of home. 4 Autobiography 1. As a child I was scared of people peeking in at me from windows while I slept. I was also scared of clowns, mirrors, knives, a house behind the playground where an old deaf man lived, that I would be possessed by demons, and that people were trying to poison me. 2. The first time I had sex I thought, What's stopping me from killing him? What's stopping me from killing myself? 3. We read James Redfield's New Age spiritualism and went to camp-out raves to learn about our souls. We tried to see the good energy that vibrated through everything. Coincidences were not coincidences. We ate at the Olive Garden and ran into his old piano teacher. We went ice skating and the snow made star shapes on our sleeves. We went to NASA. I got a telescope for Christmas. We found Arcturus. The stars said, See how it's all connected? 4. Once I ate the purple leaves of a Japanese maple. I did not sleep for several nights believing my death was immanent. 5. Then he started speaking Japanese. See how it's all connected? I said, What's stopping me from killing him? What's stopping me from killing myself? What stopped me was the color of snow under the street lamps in the winter. 5 TV I am going to be on a TV show in which I will play a character that is myself who is suffering from a disease that I suffer from in real life, but in the show I am just pretending to have it, like I am pretending to be a character that is actually me. When I am my character on TV you will be able to watch me do the same life-extending therapies that are the same life-extending therapies that I do in real life, but on TV they will be simulated and only made to look real. The producers have assured me that they have consulted experts in the field of my disease to be sure that they are giving the most accurate fictional portrayal of the true life of a person with the disease from which I actually suffer. So far the script is nearly identical to the life I am really living, the one in which I have the disease from which I am pretending to suffer. At the end of the series the director says my character is either going to die or have a miraculous recovery. He has decided to let the audience decide. 6 Diagnosis Main Presenting Features: Hunger for toxic metals and translucent streaks on the tongue. Fog. Glass melting under hand and sporadic dish collapses. The recurrent persuasion of windows and a temperature in the soles of the feet. The refraction of memory. A bituminous dust that disrupts water shine at night. If left untreated the patient's brain will harden into a smooth, dark stone through which no light is permitted. Symptoms: 1. An inherited trait of “hand-rhyming,” or the weaving of light sensitive object into versal shape. 2. Inordinate longing for ice, to be underneath water. 3. A developed taste sensitivity to electricity. 4. A refusal to be near any source of smoke. 5. Reluctance to step on sand. 6. An enhanced ability to create echoes. 7. The darkening of the shadow. Associated Features: Exposure to ovens, hearths, stoves, fire pits and other heating units designed for cooking. Overuse of measuring devices. The constant possibility of wet surfaces and/or the potential for precipitation. 7 Preliminary Evaluation The patient has a cramp, is a cramp, is cramped inside an emergency. Waiting. A room. Her hair snares at the vernaculars of triage nurses and bootied doctors of slick-back, full-mask faces. Stats and buzzes, the crumpled bodies like wads of tissue beside her, are her. She is unbuckled, bent and circling the yeses and x-ing the boxes. Yes, the patient has a history of disease, light bulb bright, that cankerous sheen. What medications are you currently taking? She blanks to grapple with infinity. The TV stares at her, but she's glutted with reruns already. 8 A Medical History Do you have or have you ever had any of the conditions listed below? (Check 'yes' or 'no' for each item) Yes No Full glass transfusion from windows that produced vernal shadows and/or internal light discrepancies Snow markings on the face and skin of the arms in a sleep landscape, such as Ohio or Indiana Iterations of fatigue and distress issuing from the small lobes of the music regions, suggesting recession of poetic utterance Breakfast sculpting, with paralyzing strands of scent Sudden flares in oceanic timbre associated with the breathing of fine glass The weakening of the fog A seizure of mauve, or any neurological disorder associated with the colors teal, coral, puce, chestnut, ocher, lavender, or green. A spreading of the hands in liquid Cavities of memory, or bituminous recall Sporadic movement away from weeping spaces Lachrymal discharge originating from the swallowing of metals Heat terrors Evacuations of heavy cloud material Lateral word dissociation of the jaw Night stories with concomitant lapses in sky movement Dispersal of wind spray over wood that causes remittent fevers of light If yes, please explain: 9 Directive from the Brief Pain Inventory: Put An 'X' on the Area that Hurts the Most An X to cancel it out. My Heart? Buzzer. In the Victorian era a Valentine, beaded purse, where souls drank tea. Not my heart, mechanic of pragmatism. When awake it is just fizz, a static, but when I sleep it comes to me as a bear or a blizzard or a gun. It eats poison. I won't cross it out, I will draw it a sweater. One that is itchy, but keeps warm. II. Modernity 10 11 Awoke Gray in a Whale Heart You slimy filamental seaweed wonder, slippery, dew-fat pulsar: In what have you caught yourself all of a sudden? A briny bird first, and then a socket-picked fish, and now mooned-over eyes to straddle the sodden last strand of a wind-empty wind? Terrible to squish such a thing in your fist, and worse to wish that it weren't, but flip through the book of all things thrown back and isn't this just every one of them? Gray the fluff missed from pockets and gray the scruff long-gone-lost and gray the once-ever-happy that ends in the end like all ends end: In tears and in tails, and in the whale re-bellow of stop loving me to which the sea wept, but love me.