...and its place remembers it no more...
Vanitas with Bones and Crucifix, by Neal Auch
My short story, and its place remember it no more, was recently published in Nightmare Magazine. The story is now available to read online for free. You can also listen to a podcast version of the story, if you prefer.
As I discussed in the author spotlight interview, the piece is loosely inspired by the story of Franz Sieber, a Czech botanist who travelled the world collecting rare plant specimens. Sieber enjoyed considerable professional success during his lifetime; however, the botanist apparently suffered from some severe mental health issues. As he approached middle age, Sieber’s behaviour and scientific publications became increasingly deranged and he was eventually committed to a Prague mental institution where he remained until his untimely death. My idea with this story was to take the basic premise of a botanist plagued by some inner demons as a launching pad for a meditation on death, capitalist exploitation, and my own struggles with mental health.
For this email, I thought it would be fun to accompany the story by a few thematically relevant still life compositions. The piece above seemed like an apt choice, since it highlights the biblical themes of the story. The title of the work is drawn directly from Psalm 106: “As for man, his days are like grass—he blooms like a flower of the field; when the wind passes over, it vanishes, and its place remembers it no more.” This metaphorical equivalency between flesh and flowers is repeated many times in the bible, and it also serves as the philosophical underpinning for countless floral still life arrangements, including my own.
My story uses this idea of human life as being like a flower rather explicitly. You can see this connection in the fact that Sieber’s life story is told through his relation to flowers, but also through the nature of the Agrian flowers themselves, which bloom where human blood has been spilled and which are all unique and distinctive. The Argian monsters were meant as a kind of death-haunted counterpart to the flowers, which is why they are described using similar language and arise from the same geographical location. In this way, the juxtaposition of the creatures and the flowers serves a similar purpose to the way 17th century Dutch still life painters often hid bones and other symbols of mortality amongst their floral arrangements, to remind the viewer that all things of beauty are transient—death comes equally to us all.
Vanitas with Bones and Flowers, by Neal Auch
The image above is another example of presenting this biblical connection between flesh and flowers in a more-or-less literal way, by using a portion of a scavenged spinal column to act as the stem for a sort of hybrid bone plant, blurring the distinction between dead flesh and withering blossoms.
Of course, if you’ve read the story and followed my work for any amount of time, you’ll notice another theme common to still life: greed. Classical still life paintings were often a vehicle for heavy-handed moralizing about the meaningless vanity of the blind pursuit of wealth. And this story is no different. The story’s version of Franz Sieber never really appreciates the beauty of the flowers, in the same way that he’s largely unconcerned about the exploitation of the country where they bloom. He’s too distracted by his pursuit of wealth. In the story, as in the works of the Dutch masters, this single-minded quest for riches is ultimately fruitless. It doesn’t make him happy, and it doesn’t save Sieber from his fate.
Some Housekeeping Notes
First off, it’s been a long time since I updated my blog or wrote an email. I broke my leg in a cycling accident a while back and decided to take some time away while recovering. I’ll be writing more about this experience in the future, but it suffices to say that I’m doing well at this point. I’ve re-opened my online store in case you’re looking for something to spice up your gothic home decor. And I have a bunch of new images and essays lined up. Stay tuned!
Secondly, for boring technical reasons I migrated my mailing list from MailChimp to Substack. Hopefully the transition goes smoothly but I apologize in advance for any glitches while I get familiar with the new interface.
And, finally, a call to action: if you find any value in these emails please feel free to share with anyone who you feel might be interested. Indie artists like myself rely primarily on word-of-mouth to get eyes on our work and (eventually) get paid. Every little bit helps, even if it’s just hitting the “share” button on social media or else passing a link along to someone you know.
As always, thanks for reading and best wishes to all you beautiful weirdos out there.