MCMLXXVIII

JP Somersaulter

Description

MCMLXXVIII is an abnormal book. PREFACE: "It's strongly recommended you don't read this. If you begin, don't read much. For sure don't read to the end. (And watch out for the blood stains.) If you read to the end, don't tell anyone. If you tell someone, you'll likely be restrained and locked away in solitary confinement. Better not to begin. Nobody likes solitary confinement."Fictional review: "?Could make you profoundly crazy. Beware!"Fictional review: "I laughed my butt off."

Sujets

• Psychology

Informations

• Publié par: eBookIt.com
• Date de parution: 02 mai 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781736723227
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

MCMLXXVIII
MCMLXXVIII
JP Somersaulter

Dowers Grove
Illinois
THREE ARTS PRESS
1100 Maple Ave.
Downers Grove, IL 60515-4818
threeartspress.com
Text © JP Somersaulter, 2017
Cover art by JP Somersaulter, 1974 – 78
Published 2017 by Three Arts Press. All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or other, without written permission from the publisher.
Edited by Lillian Moats
Assistant Editor, Paula Moore
Prepress by John Lord at Graphics Plus, Inc.
Printed in USA on acid free archival quality paper by BookMobile
Limited First Edition distributed as personal gifts to unsuspecting recipients.
To purchase copies of this book contact
[e-mail]
From Johnny to his first family: Daddy, Mommy,
Mari, Stevie, Kathy, Friskie, Puff, … and Willy
(Wilhelmina) the hamster
INTRODUCTION, Part 1
I’m JP. You know me. When I turned fifty, I had fifty birthday parties—one-to-one with friends in many locales. Now I’m about to celebrate my seventy-second by completing this writing project which I began in 1978 (MCMLXXVIII). It’s a fictional distillation of what I’ve felt, observed and learned over the past forty years. After my creative partner Lillian publishes this carefully crafted chaos, I will seek out friends and—for my personal satisfaction—give them (you) this volume as a gift.
You may not know that I had seventeen years of psychological therapy. Overcoming rapid-cycling manic depression, killing my relentlessly accusatory inner voice, and learning to face death are I believe the most important achievements of my life, certainly the most liberating. This book celebrates those * triumphs, fictionally.
If you undertake to read it, keep in mind: before the cure comes the illness, before the courage the paranoia, before the liberation the enslavement. This book is “selvagem,” which is Portuguese for “wild, fierce, savage.” MCMLXXVIII wildly interprets my struggle against fierce feelings which began at age eight when I learned of the savage murder of my grandmother, years before my birth. By eleven I was firmly in the grip of guilt and fear. If you read ahead, ignoring the preface, you’ll be challenged by disorientation, dream illogic, and manic-depressive surreality. MCMLXXVIII ’s uncertainty, contradiction, horror, joy, lies and truths do not at all tell the story of my life, but express, rather, the essence of my inner experience.
This book is also “selvagem” because it’s a lament. How absurd that in this infinite universe each of us is required to struggle torturously to construct an individuality, which is then demolished by death. Even if we mature enough to face this “natural” end, we remain defenseless against a more horrifying possibility. Now, even more so after the 2016 USA election, humanity is confronted with the possibility of annihilation—the end of our hopes for a just and creative society and vital earth. In a flash or filthy meltdown we may be forced to witness the destruction of harmonious nature and innumerable species, including our own. No wonder this book screams.
I’m JP. You know me. I hate the debilitating effects of guilt. Please don’t feel guilty if you don’t read all the way through or even a single page. I thoroughly endorse my book, but it may not be your cup of tea. As long as we know one another you need never refer to it again. Our friendship will remain true. What’s important is that we met one more time.
* “Triumph” from Latin triump(h)us, probably from Greek thriambos ‘hymn to Dionysus.’
PREFACE:
It’s strongly recommended you don’t read this.
If you begin, don’t read much.
For sure don’t read to the end. (And watch out for the blood stains.)
If you read to the end, don’t tell anyone.
If you tell someone, you’ll likely be restrained and locked away in solitary confinement.
Better not to begin. Nobody likes solitary confinement.
Table of Contents: (Read as letters, not numerals)
First Chapter M
Chapter C
Second Chapter M
Chapter L
First Chapter X
Second Chapter X
Chapter V
First Chapter I
Second Chapter I
Third Chapter I
Appendixx
This Table of Contents is not remotely accurate.
The frequent misspellings found in this volume wish to be left in peace.
The blood stains couldn’t be helped.
MCMLXXVII I
Third Chapter I, Part 3
INFINITY
… Interrupted by your TIME, your LIFE, LOVE.
INFINITY
Again—so soon!? A TIME, LIFE, LOVE SANDWICH with way too much bread.
—–Cut here to throw away your appendixx—–
CHAPTER? THIS IS NO CHAPTER.
All truthful writing no matter what style or genre is a futile attempt to communicate contradiction and illogic. To write one’s emotions is a hazardous thing, all the more precarious if a clear, declarative prose is attempted. (Surrealists know never to try it.) I strive to write that which cannot be said. It is only through miscommunicating (a word not in any dictionary) that we can achieve authentic self-expression while, thank goodness, retaining some small degree of privacy.
Everything I’ve just said is a lie, just as everything I’m about to say is a lie.
M CMLXXVIII
First Chapter M, Part 1

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Millennia MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Merged MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM MuffledMurmur MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Mama MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM…
M C MLXXVIII
Chapter C, Part 1
Cold.
Confusion.
Conflict.
Chaos.
CONSCIOUSNESS.
MCM L XXVIII
Chapter L, Part 1
LOVE.
M C MLXXVIII
Chapter C, Part 2
Charlie’s my name. Good Morning … or Good Evening maybe. Does this JP understand anything about writing a book? In good conscience I must speak up—those first four chapters (and the “No Chapter”) are completely nonsensical. His preface and table of contents are crazy.
Meaningless artsy contortions make me want to scream. Who needs confusion, lies? What we crave is candid, coherent communication.
MCMLXX V III
Chapter V, Part 1
VIOLENCE!
MCMLXXV I II
First Chapter I, Part 1
I?
I am.
My first memory: those terrifying squeals. Wrestling monkeys? I sat up and stared into darkness through vertical bars. No escape. I knew no words—not for speaking, not for thinking. All I could do was listen and see and smell and taste and feel … and cry. I didn’t know my name or that names exist or how I’d been imprisoned. Night and day—crib and playpen.
Multiple units of passing time haven’t helped me understand. I am … still beginning. What are my feelings? Words can’t express them, yet I’m made of words—for I’m nothing but a fiction. My name? I still don’t know it. For now just call me “X.”
I’m no longer trapped behind bars. I’m certainly not in prison. I’m innocent of the charges against me and therefore I have nothing to feel sorry for. In fact there’s no reason to keep me locked up and if I were released I wouldn’t kill the person or persons I’m not thinking of right now. I haven’t been given permission to use this ancient Underwood typewriter in the prison library. I haven’t decided to come here every day to write notes for myself, trying to untangle my confusion.
When you’re in prison you have to have something productive to do. I’m writing these notes. I think I feel—I believe I’ve always felt—insignificant. Smallness is nothing new to me. Being in prison can’t make me smaller than I already am.
I’m not important to the world. Everything I’ve ever said will be forgotten as soon as I’m dead. Only my despicable actions will be remembered—recorded in the permanent record of my GUILT.
M CMLXXVIII
First Chapter M, Part 2
And now I’m going to tell the truth by lying. I’m going to create another fictional character, “M.”
This M has been in prison for thirty-two years. When someone is permanently incarcerated, there’s every reason to expect he or she will be different from free people.
Imagine if you will being led into M’s prison cell, your new home. Already you’re feeling hateful, antagonistic toward everyone, not to mention extremely small.
You know you’re going to be meeting the person you’ll be for