bbirkensnake:

Write a story about the Toynbee Tiler. What is the story he is trying to tell? What message would you convey in a succinct street installation?
More pics
Submit your story

bbirkensnake:

Write a story about the Toynbee Tiler. What is the story he is trying to tell? What message would you convey in a succinct street installation?

More pics

Submit your story


bbirkensnake:

What is the story here? How is it meaningful that this note was found/lost? What is the role of crutches? What do you think about crouching? What other associations can you make from this note?
Submit your story.

bbirkensnake:

What is the story here? How is it meaningful that this note was found/lost? What is the role of crutches? What do you think about crouching? What other associations can you make from this note?

Submit your story.


bbirkensnake:

image

In the movie Amelie, Hipolito is a failed author writing a book about “a guy who keeps a journal. Not about his past but about disasters in his future. So he gets depressed and does nothing.” Later, Amelie writes a sentence from his book on a wall. Think about the transition of private to public writing. Think about writing about doing nothing. Write a story that Hipolito might have written. Make it less than 1,000 words. Submit it here.


lostpuppycam:

Shotgun Torso by Brian Warfield, an UP Literature ebook

lostpuppycam:

Shotgun Torso by Brian Warfield, an UP Literature ebook


donate for stories by Katie Moore, Nora Nadjarian, Thaddeus Rutkowski, and David Tomaloff.

donate for stories by Katie Moore, Nora Nadjarian, Thaddeus Rutkowski, and David Tomaloff.


Jeffrey Hecker, Ofelia Hunt, Janey Smith and Marcus Speh stories. Donate to get the pdf.

Jeffrey Hecker, Ofelia Hunt, Janey Smith and Marcus Speh stories. Donate to get the pdf.


donate some money ($) to get a pdf of these stories for you to assemble into little books.

donate some money ($) to get a pdf of these stories for you to assemble into little books.


Open for Submissions

Pachydermini will be returning shortly, hopefully this month with another pack of mini books. In the mean time, we are taking submissions again. We’re looking for short stories 300-700 words long. We’re looking for strange, normal, broken bones, tears, well-made soup, collage of birds, shackles, nostalgia, something utterly new, surprises, boredom, hoops, mirages, etc. Please dazzle us.


Haitus

Pachydermini is going to have to take a brief break to retool formatting and all of that terribly boring stuff.


Interview with Carissa Halston

1. “The Dual” is a homonym for “duel.” Was that intended? What connotations do you hope people will read into your title?



The homonym was intentional, yes. It’s both representative of Claire’s struggle with her anti-identity (that is, her denial over being a number-cruncher and her resistance to being a person who can live amicably with numbers) and the role many readers take on when reading. This goes beyond reading, but most people gravitate toward binary distinctions—good or bad, hero or villain, left-brained or right-brained. I hope that readers will intuit that those kinds of divisions create a sort of literary confrontation pitting the reader against the story. It places them mentally in one camp or another and nuance is subsequently lost.

2. There are a lot of numbers in your story. Is there a hidden code?

No hidden code, I’m afraid. I can say that I had a very good time writing the first half of that story with regard to the number of numbers. I put at least one reference to numbers or math in every sentence until the story became more “emotional” (read: before it referenced love). I did so to exploit that either/or dichotomy I mentioned above.

3. Would you concede that this is a horror story?

I concede that there’s a moment of horrific violence in it, but I’m not sure I’d call it a horror story. I don’t find it scary. I find it sad. I suppose it could be called magical realism or surrealism.

4. Are you good at math?

I’m quite good at arithmetic. I’m an adequate predicate logician. I haven’t thought (and I mean really thought) about algebra in some time, but it didn’t keep me up at night in high school. Per IQ tests, I’m a spatial reasoner. That has a bit to do with math, I think.

5. How are math and art related?

In literature, math can represent restrictions. Look at Oulipo. Queneau wrote a single scene 99 different ways for Exercises in Style. Calvino structured Mr. Palomar in nine cycles, with three chapters per cycle—there’s actually a fascinating little explanation at the back of the book about what exactly he was doing structurally. So math can make for some really self aware literature. However, it can also prove as a foil to character (as it does in “The Dual”) or as a method of proving/disproving epistemological issues. That is, if you can disprove a mathematical “truth,” how can anything really be “true?” In fiction, that’s an idea which could take an entire novel to tease out.

In visual art, it gets even more interesting because math allows artists to create patterns and then use them to exploit/skew reality. When three-dimensional perspective was first being rendered in two-dimensional art, the first thing that painters messed with was what they knew was visually factual. So you’d get a painting of The Last Supper (of which there are many) wherein the tiles on the floor don’t align with the patterns on the wall and there’s no mathematical way the room they’re in could exist. This led to more skewing and we wound up with fascinating pieces that blur the lines between viewer and subject, like ceiling paintings that bleed out over their ornate borders (e.g., Andrea Pozzo’s trompe l’oeil ceiling in the Church of Saint Ignazio, c. 1680s).

Combining literature and visual art, you have William Blake’s prints that show distorted limb placement and impossible scenes that were basically meant to be satirical when placed alongside these pastorals. Speaking of binary, just look at the plate for Blake’s “The Argument.” So math can influence art, but art in turn makes math more interesting. Read Edwin Abbott’s Flatland. Watch Chuck Jones’s animated short based on Norton Juster’s “The Dot and the Line.”

That’s the long answer to your question. The short answer is that fiction and art can make math more accessible.