Review of Divine
Hangover
by Michael Battaglia
February 2004
Welcome back, boys and girls. You know, for something that
I meant to be semi-weekly, it's sure turned into quasi-monthly,
a frequency that I'm going to try and work on over the next
few weeks. It's amazing how much less time I have now that
I have a full-time job, I figured nothing could eat my time
up more than school did and here I am surrounded by books
I haven't read yet (two hundred and counting!), two stacks
of CDs I've barely listened to, and tasks like this here
critique that I've barely even had a chance to begin embarking
upon. Sad, ain't it? And this is without being involved
in writing another novel, another task that will no doubt
gnarl up my time to an exponential factor. Yeesh. Having
been at my job for seven months now, you'd think I'd have
developed some sort of routine. Oh well. At least I have
the adoration of millions, right? Right? Anybody?
Ahem. I think I've exhausted my potential for composing
lovefests to myself so this time out the column won't be
the labor of Hercules that the other two have been. Of course
I have to be careful this time out, since I'll be going
through Rebecca Kemp's
Divine Hangover. Ms Kemp, in case some of you out
there haven't been paying attention, is the talented designer
of this here site my column is squatting upon, and thus
anything I write here has to go through her first in order
for her to post it. Although I haven't corresponded with
her directly (which is probably something she is very grateful
for, if she's at all looked through the last two columns)
she seems like a nice enough person and not one given to
irrational bouts of censorship. Certainly, it seems highly
unlikely that she's the easily offended type either (unless
it's by people who talk about her like she's not there,
that bugs the crap out of me) but you never know what sets
some people off, so don't be surprised to find that every
time you click on the link to reach this column you're taken
to that page with the dancing hamsters (they're so cute!)
or you'll find that all of my words have been rearranged
into something out of William Burroughs' worst nightmare.
Or perhaps this will simply be replaced by a column about
cheese. Lots and lots of cheese. Hey, it's the Internet.
Anything can happen.
But there's really no reason for me to worry. This will
not be a column filled with vitriol and I can safely put
the dagger shaped writing implement away for today. Rebecca's
story is actually pretty enjoyable in a lighthearted, say
what you got to say and get out sort of fashion. As I mentioned
before it's called Divine Hangover and unlike me,
the title actually has something to do with the story itself,
since that's basically what it boils down to. Oh, and this
is the point where I start dropping major spoilers so if
you haven't read it yet, you might want to go ahead and
do that. It's okay. I'll wait.
The prose here is engaging and well written, not skimping
on the descriptions but not overwhelming the reader with
them either. It reads easy, moving from one sentence to
the next with ridiculous ease, every phrase just sort of
propelling you forward. That sort of skill takes practice
and the whole affair is pretty seamless. So from a technical
standpoint I have absolutely no complaints whatsoever.
To me, the biggest hurdle comes from the subject matter
itself. Clearly the characters involved are meant to portray,
or at least invoke the Egyptian pantheon of gods. Now I
have a vague familiarity with them due to some high school
research and way too many nights spent in role playing games.
But I'm not most people and while I can probably figure
out what "two travels of Ra's chariot" might mean,
that might just confuse the crap out of some people. Which
is no excuse, mind you, but it's good to throw people some
sort of bone. The biggest problem of course is that throwing
in mountains of exposition would ruin the flow of the story,
the best one could probably hope for is little asides in
the dialogue or the narrative that sort of hints at what
purpose which god has what role in the scheme of things
(help actually arrives later, with the quickie summary of
Osiris' problems, which is along the lines of what I was
looking at for everyone) otherwise the reader might be reduced
to "who the heck ARE these people?"
I give the author bonus points for going with unconventional
subject matter, however. Outside of comic books and maybe
some New Age texts, I don't think the Egyptian gods really
get much of a chance for starring roles anymore and a lot
of the mythologies behind them are really interesting, which
Rebecca touches upon but doesn't overwhelm the story with.
It sits as the background but it's not what the story is
about. I would have probably blown this up to epic proportions
and made it a generation spanning saga, that Rebecca managed
to resist that urge and keep it simple is a testament to,
well, simplicity, really. The only really glaring flaw is
the inclusion of a few footnotes, while I'm sure the intentions
were good, nobody likes it when David Foster Wallace does
it and he wins awards. I'd try to incorporate them into
the text itself or just chuck them, personally. I speak
from experience too, since I used to have that habit way
back when and people either ignored them or just got irritated
because they had to keep glancing down for little notes
of sometimes questionable relevance. Again, another technical
note, feel free to take it for what it's worth (and then
leave it, starving and shivering, on some cold doorstep
for some other poor slob to take care of).
This is a fun story, essentially a dialogue between two
gods that culminates in one punchline. This lighthearted
feel is a welcome change from a lot of more morose works
that we see nowadays. Still, it has a bit of a dark beginning,
with the goddess Sekhmet (I'm only typing that once, into
the clipboard you go!) waking up to find nothing but death
and destruction around her. This part, frankly, feels downright
weird, with the massacre described in almost tossed off
terms. I'd have preferred a little more detail here, not
because I'm some kind of sick freak, but because it saps
all the emotion right out of the situation. If you do it
right and slam the reader with this image of broken and
destroyed humanity just lying in bloodied heaps, it can
shock them right out of what they were expecting and then
by then shifting into these two gods basically having a
normal conversation, it might give the story more of a surrealist
feel instead of the more literal sensation that it emits
now. When dealing with gods, it might be better to not make
things too concrete.
I like how the gods are portrayed here in the style of
the Greek gods, as basically humans with more exaggerated
qualities, not too unlike the people who worship them. To
me, though, gods should also have a vaguely inhuman quality
about them too, something to remind the reader that you're
reading about people who aren't completely human and will
never be. The closest the two come here is their rather
cavalier attitude to the destruction littering the ground
all around them, but that could just be detachment as well.
The family style relationship that's hinted at as well is
fun and welcome (though no hints of the rather incestuous
relationships the Greek pantheon used to have, which would
have been interesting). I personally think it would have
been more fun to show in more detail the conversations and
meetings that led up to Sekhmet nearly destroying the entire
planet, that would have only accented the family feel. As
it stands, the story becomes nearly all exposition, albeit
entertaining exposition, as Horus basically stands there
and fills in all the blanks for the reader, explaining everyone's
reactions and motivations. That saves space and gets the
point across fast, but I think it takes away something in
the resonance department and misses a good opportunity to
really imagine what a banquet among the Egyptian gods would
have been like, with all the clashing personalities and
other manipulations, it might add some more suspense as
to what exactly happened and make the reader feel like they
were experiencing it, instead of just being told what happened.
Perhaps Horus' semi-monologue could be used as a starting
point for a series of monologues slowly but surely showcasing
a look back into what caused Sekhmet to go dough-nutty.
It doesn't have to be all doom and gloom either, it's a
good opportunity to showcase the ribald humor of the gods,
as well as their pettiness and sheer callousness and maybe
even a capacity for love. Like I said, as it stands now,
Horus' monologue just seems to be a long build-up to a fairly
simple punchline (cats are the masters of the world, we'll
see what my turtle has to say about that), one that has
a really quick resolution and one that reader would have
to be cat-lovers to find really amusing (in a knowing "ha-ha"
sort of way). Controlled by cats? The only time a cat will
ever control me is if someone straps raw meat to my body
and throws me in the tiger cage.
It took me a while but I finally realized what this reminds
me of. This story is not unlike some of Neil Gaiman's work,
and I do remember that a bunch of Sandman stories featured
not only an Egyptian cat-goddess (who was dying because
nobody worshipped her anymore) but a story where cats tried
to take over the world (the "Dream of a Thousand Cats"
issue). I'm not saying that this is ripping off Mr Gaiman,
but that it does remind me of his work. The thing that it
lacks is the sense of "magical realism" that his
work often contains. It's well written, it's entertaining,
and has an amusing concept but mostly serves as a lead in
to "cats rule!" which might have a mixed reception
depending on how one feels about felines. I would have put
more focus on the Egyptian gods, on their quirks and foibles,
leading into the manipulation of Sekhmet and then after
she realizes what she's done, letting us watch how she twists
it all around, putting herself in the top position and watching
as her fellow gods and goddesses fade away into the desert
sands, forgotten by everyone except by the occasional nerdy
kid who finds a book on mythology in his local library.
The biggest hurdle this story has is emotional resonance,
this is a great setup for a tale that could have horror
and humor and drama from paragraph to paragraph, with a
great sense of scope and a tangible sense of mystery and
magic that lingers just outside our perceptions. As it stands,
it's a cute little story and I like it, and I don't see
anything wrong with the story staying as just that. But
it doesn't have to, I guess is my point. If that was the
ultimate purpose, then by God you've succeeded brilliantly
and I mean that as sincerely as my poor cynical body is
able to convey, it's a great lighthearted tale of felines
and their "masters" and how it got that way, not
deep or gut wrenching, but fun in its own way. And if that's
all you want to be, more power to you, you've done your
job and you've done it well. But I just wanted to throw
out some thoughts on what other directions the story might
potentially take, while still remaining true to the core
idea. Maybe you think it's neat. Maybe you think I'm a pile
of steaming crap with fingers (so I can type, duh). As a
guy who chooses to spend his days in a job where he's constantly
yelled at, it's possible I'm not the best judge.
That said, I like it. I do. You've done a fine job, Rebecca
and it's clear your talents don't just lie in web site design
judging by this story alone. Is it War and Peace? Of course
not, but there's a place for that kind of book and there's
another equally large place for stories like this, unpretentious
and fun, taking a small concept and running with it and
having a grand time doing it all the same. I smiled when
I read this. I look forward to seeing whatever else you've
got trapped in your computer.
Gee, that wasn't so bad. Not bad at all. I think I made
everyone happy. Heck, there's even plenty of room to tell
you all about how much I really really really like cheese-
- MB
01.21.04
"There's a ringing in my head that keeps my awake
at night, sometimes I just don't know what is right, today
I saw a car crush my little dog under its wheels, it did
not even stop it just sped off and out of sight . . . "
- Todd Rundgren, "Sometimes I Don't Know What to Feel"
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