I have a great story to tell you.
You know those cave paintings? Rock art dating back to Prehistoric times—maybe even further, since the beginning, red and black swathes crafted carefully into bulls or aurochs, magical vignettes of hunting and stenciled-in hands, dotting those cavern walls with points of history. This parietal art paved the way for many wonderful things, the world breathed into life through contest and competition. Yes, these paintings helped shape our world—and brought evil into it. This is the story of how evil came into the world.
Once a year, when the season was cold, the moon a musty yellow, artists from around the globe would travel to the caves. Many imaginative minds came to those hallowed caverns, their wrinkled hands itching to peck into the walls, art that looked the most alive. It was a contest to create life in a way. Some artists drew from the wildlife, stroking into existence plump pigs with the ends of their charred torches, etching black into snouts and caudal coils. Others found the intimacy of the human body to be the thing that looked most alive, to compare one’s self with the pigment on the wall like a stone cold mirror.
But one artist noticed through the luminescence of the torches everyone used, the flickering of shadows. And that artist came to realize, like how we as kids realize, how vivid these quivering contours of doppelganger shape looked. How vividly scary. So scary in fact, that the artist gasped at the sight of her own crooked hand, and heard her sudden breath echo across the wide, endless expanse of the cave. An idea was lit into the artist’s mind, burned bright with the flame of inspiration. And she went to work.
Finally, the artist finished, without placing paint to the wall, but before that wall was a torch, brilliantly lit. When her fellow colleagues came to her station, assembling curiously before the blank wall, the artist began to work her magic. And she started like this:
“I have a great story to tell you.”
Using her hands, she crafted horrible shadows. Inspired by the frightening shapes she had made earlier, she spoke of marvelous monsters, crafted crime after crime and spoke with a booming echo that seemed to shake the walls. Her story spoke of crude sin, of double toil and trouble, and by the bright light of the flame, her words came to life.
By the end, everyone agreed that her art was the most alive and applauded her efforts. But, they said:
“Okay you win, but what you said just now—it isn’t so funny. It doesn’t sound so good. We are doing okay without it. We can get along without that kind of thing. Take it back. Call that story back.”
But, of course, it was too late. For once a story is told, it cannot be called back. Once told, it is loose in the world. So, be careful of the stories you tell, and the stories you listen to.
—
I told this story to a friend, who looked at me oddly because he was wondering why I was interrupting him during a rather heated game of League of Legends. Thankfully, I waited for him to finish to tell him my version of how evil came into the world. The opening line was magical, actually. Like a “once upon a time” or the “OH!” of olden days, I could tell he was curious from the get-go. What made this story so great? What made this story one worth telling?
He asked me what “caves” the artists went to, but I refused to answer. I wanted to keep that level of ambiguity, to keep that bit of detail a secret. While written fiction (especially short stories) does well with specificity, I think with the art of oration, a little bit of mystery can go a long way to help the narrative be catchy. And indeed, it was to him! At least, in that moment. To be honest, it was difficult to learn the whole story by heart, but with a script printed out I did okay! I made sure to use alliteration to help me get into some memorable rhythms among some other techniques, so performing the little tale was pretty fun.
—
Works Cited:
Cave Painting, Artwork. Digital image. All Posters. N.p., n.d. Web. 31 Jan. 2016. <http://www.allposters.com/-sp/Cave-Painting-Artwork-Posters_i10230211_.htm>.
King, Thomas. The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative. Toronto: Anansi Press. 2003. Print.
Milton, John. “Paradise Lost: Book 1.” Paradise Lost: Book 1. Ed. Thomas H. Luxon. Trustees of Dartmouth College, n.d. Web. 01 Feb. 2016.
Shastry, Vaibhav. “Storytelling through Shadows.” The Times of India. TNN, 27 Aug. 2012. Web. 01 Feb. 2016.
Hello Brendan. I have really enjoyed reading your story. It is not only interesting but also captivating. When I began reading your story, I felt a cold chill run down my spine. I couldn’t help thinking of the dark, scary Cango caves I visited in South Africa. While in those caves, I had this eerie feeling that someone was watching me and following me closely behind. The hairs on the back of my head stood on their ages until I got out. So when you started describing “the flickering of shadows…quivering contours of doppelganger shape… vividly scary. So scary in fact, that the artist gasped at the sight of her own crooked hand, and heard her sudden breath echo across the wide, endless expanse of the cave,” I kind of relived the experience I had. The accidental discovery of live performance by the “artist” seems to have led to a new dawn in performance in your story. Do you think that modern live performances could have also been discovered accidentally?
Minkyo, thank you so much!
That experience sounds amazing. I’ve always wanted to venture into the world of cave exploration. While it may be a scary experience, I’ve always just wanted to push my comfort zones, and why not do that by bringing yourself into the relative darkness of a worldly abyss!? Thank you so much for your kind words hahah.
You say that you relived the experience through my story and for that, I am grateful and appreciative of that honor. Stories work in many ways for a multitude of perspectives and your experience reading my story is certainly a reminder of that.
I believe modern live performances have developed from the old. Perhaps the first video uploaded onto the internet featuring a speaker may have not been initially created with the aspect of performance in mind, but definitely, it becomes a performance regardless of the creator’s intentions. With the platform of the internet, any video of a speaker can become a performance—and many have taken that opportunity to express themselves through live streams. A natural progression.
Thank you so much, Minkyo!
Brendan,
Thank you of your story. After I read it, I re-read it aloud to a study partner to their great enjoyment. As an student outside of the English department, subtle literary technique is often lost on me, until pointed out. I would not have noticed how your subtle use of alliteration contributed to your story’s success if I had not read the latter part of your blog post.
I was almost 100% certain that the link you included in the line “the flickering of shadows” was going to connect in some way to Plato’s allegory of the cave. I then thought that maybe there was some connection between Plato’s story and yours. However, if I think about it now, the similarities really end at the fact that both stories are set in a cave – maybe too also the power of the vividness of shadows in comparison to reality.
I’m curious as to why you linked to the Times of India article. Care to enlighten me?
– Merriam
Thank you so much, Merriam!
I tried not to be too obvious with my alliteration, like a novice poet trying to rhyme without meaning or like a poet trying to flex a million classical allusions into one poem! I’m glad that the technique was subtle, and so the confirmation allowed me a nice breath of relief!
Actually you are not too far off from my initial thoughts. As I was writing this version of the evil story, the cave and the lights immediately brought me into the realm of Plato. For a long while, I wanted to do something with that connection but I decided I would end it there! Definitely a vista into how storytelling sometimes excises the excess.
Oh, and about the link! I’m so sorry! I made an accident by hyperlinking an url that changes constantly. I’ve updated it with the proper link that talks about the art of shadow storytelling! You can click here for your convenience! I’m glad you caught this because I don’t think I would have noticed it! Ahaha, this is definitely a learning moment and perhaps, a potential weakness for the art of digital storytelling (when used in conjunction with hyperlinks).
Thank you so much!
Hi Brendan,
Great story! I love how you’ve created such vivid imagery. I’m really intrigued by your comment about how mystery helps keep the interest of a story’s listener. It’s interesting how when a seemingly insignificant component of a story (such as the exact location of the caves) is kept secret, it can help to captivate the listener. While I didn’t think too much about where the caves might be when I started to read your story, after reading your friend’s question, I began to wonder about where these caves might be. I think this component of mystery can help a listener (or a reader) to engage with a story even after they have stopped listening to or reading it, since they might be thinking about the story long after. Why do you think mystery can make stories so much more compelling?
– Emma
Emma, thank you for reading and commenting!
I love that you’ve identified that play of insignificance versus significance within the bounds of a narrative! Certainly, mystery can do so much to make a story compelling—at least in oration because I think a lack of specifics is a detriment to short fiction at least—because the listener then attaches their own ideas of what that ambiguous description could be. By doing so, they lend a little bit of themselves to color the story in an attempt to decipher the unknown and perhaps that engagement creates that compulsion to pick at the story even long after it has been said.
Thanks again for the great comment!
Hey Brendan,
I absolutely loved your story! I really enjoyed the quirky/colloquial tone (forgive me if I interpreted that wrong :S), it definitely caught my attention and kept my focus. The visual of the cave paintings you put at the beginning also helped to set the scene for me, along with your vivid descriptions of the setting. The part about the flickering shadows was definitely a favorite.
It made me think of a few art movements that I’ve been studying in another course, more particularly realism and impressionism. These were two art movements that sought to capture reality in the truest way possible. I compared those to the characters of your story who base themselves on wildlife or the human body to paint. Then came surrealism, cubism, futurism, dadaism, modernism etc, which were all about bending reality into new shapes and concepts. I thought this was pretty similar to the artist who based himself on the flickering shadows.
King says, stories have the power to create. So when human minds let themselves free of limits, and think up anything they want, it can actually become a reality. But a new, unknown and sometimes too absurd to fully digest. When I say this, I’m really thinking of psychopathic murderers like Ed Gein who Silence of the Lambs was based on. I know we live in a pretty violent world, and that horrible things happen everyday, but certain methods of violence shock us to the core more so than others. I think that when we learn about violence of a certain level one of our reaction is “who would even think to do something like that?”, it seems absurd, and just too horrible to even think about.
I thought it was interesting that the artist who didn’t in fact draw from usual reality to paint was the one with the scariest story, and it made me think of people in real life who out of their own imaginations have created some of the most horrible realities we’ve known. Great story!
Oh, you totally got the tone! At least, the beginning’s sorta like that having written it as if I was speaking it!
Your discussion of art movements is absolutely fascinating to me. If I had the time and the gutso, I would have loved to study art history here, but I suppose I’ll have to do that on my own time.
I love your connection to the modern day with Ed Gein and then your subsequent connection to the literature/cinema it inspired. Really, stories have that power don’t they? The imagination is an infinite tool.
Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate it a lot, Marie!
Hi Brendan Ha!
Great Story! I really enjoyed reading it. It is interesting how you talked about those paintings as being the thing that brings evil to the world. What inspires you or helped you create your story? I myself had a really hard time deciding what to write on and yours is definately really unquie!
Karen
Karen, thanks so much for reading it. I really appreciate your comment and everyone else’s in regards to my story. I can’t help but feel humbled and embarrassed, ahaha.
I first got my inspiration from a painting by Nicolas Poussin called Et in Arcadia ego, where shepherds crowd around a tomb, an intrusion of death into their supposedly perfect world, and look upon it curiously. The first rendition has a shepherd pointing at the tomb, and in the process casts a shadow upon the tomb simultaneously creating a sort of shadow-portrait.
From that image, I got the brain going, thought of cave paintings which are known as one of the first forms of art, connected the two and voila!
Thanks for letting me explain the process for this particular story, Karen!