When telling a story, the plot is what ratchets up the tension, what moves the needle steadily higher, and what keeps the pages turning. However, what if you knew the actions that drove the tale and the true “mystery” emerged from the protagonist learning the truth about themselves?
Scottish author Robert Louis Stevenson may have been one of the first short story writers in British Literature. He was possibly inspired by Guy de Maupassant or Anton Chekhov to take up the short form as a means to wind up a full story into a concise size for everyone to consume.
A childhood riddled with health problems led Stevenson to find solace in storytelling. He was known to have told his creative flights of fantasy to his nurses and caretakers as early as age six. Despite his father’s request that he abandon writing as a young man (although his father did pay for the publication of his first book,) it was Stevenson’s gift of storytelling that made him famous. Traveling for the family’s engineering firm, Stevenson took an unusual interest in documenting the Orkney and Shetland islands for their landscapes and the feeling of being far away. In the 1892 short story “The Beach of Falesá,” Stevenson’s best contributions record the sense of discovery that his protagonist has upon this tropical island.
I took the glass, and the shores leaped nearer, and I saw the tangle of the woods, and the breach of the surf. The brown roofs and the black insides peeped among the trees.
This “point-of-view” writing seems to be very important to understanding Stevenson. Whether it is the escape of “Treasure Island,” or the madness of “Dr. Jekyll and Mr.Hyde,” acting as a trustworthy narrator possibly took Stevenson back to the dictations of his youth. In the very Dickensian 1884 short story “Markheim,” Stevenson proposes that the crime itself is by no means as damaging as its aftermath. It is interesting that the 1953 radio adaptation "Royal Theatre" starring Sir Laurence Olivier actually opens with Markheim in the dock in front of the judge at the sentencing for his crime. That would have been the chilling conclusion in a normal Victorian tale of lost morality (or perhaps even the denouement following a Maupassant-Ian twist.) Nonetheless, Markheim’s recollection is the only telling of the tale we have.
It’s Christmas Day. Stepping in from the lonely and bare streets, Markheim pays a surprise visit to a high-priced antique shop where he and his past are clearly known. The conversation he has with the shopkeeper is rife with mood changes and the sideways glance of him wondering what Markheim is truly up to. Implied in the work is a sense that “gambling” on Markheim is a surefire way to win and be “paid dividends” as the dealer bluntly puts it. Whether Stevenson is making him a loser in life for a reason, is a great unknown to keep you involved.
The dealer clearly works in some gray areas on his own. Perhaps, Markheim has something to sell from his so-called “inheritance.” To Markheim, this point is where he not only must reveal himself to be honest but an altogether changed man. He waxes a story that is not too good to be believed (telling him that his dear uncle’s cabinet is “bare to the wainscot.”) and that there has been a 180-degree change of intention. “I seek a Christmas present for a lady,” Markheim declares before then making certain to appear contrite to the dealer for his most important commodity on the day off - time.
If anything, Markheim closing with the quandary “a rich marriage is not a thing to be neglected” is the bait for the dealer to think that those aforementioned dividends are about to be paid and handsomely. Of course, as he considers the direction of his next joust at Markheim, we are absorbed into the Poe-like silence being broken by all the clocks in the shop ticking at once. The dealer’s gambit is to show Markheim a 15th Century hand mirror. The dealer does his best to not oversell but makes sure to emphasize that it came from a formerly shady seller who is much like "the old" Markheim. At this point, we are still not sure that the dealer does not see through Markheim’s latest ruse or believes he is a new person warmed by the light of love. So Stevenson has the dealer pour on his “respect” for Markheim in “a dry and biting voice.”
This dialogue is the real action/reaction cycle of Stevenson’s short story. Listening to it acted out, it blazes by you. While the actors perfectly emphasize that each one is clearly sizing the other up, the tension only truly develops when reading the text. Stevenson as the writer, clearly knows more than we do but he wants us to continue to read with that gut feeling that wrongs are about to multiply. The actions that follow are almost secondary to the inner dialogue and where Stevenson departs from the Dickensian tone into Gothic/Psychological Horror.
In the end, without spoiling it, we as readers follow Stevenson’s intentions to the letter. However, he remains uncertain about alerting us to either the Markheims who are out of there or perhaps dwelling within ourselves.
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Mik Davis is the record store manager at T-Bones Records & Cafe in Hattiesburg.
NEW MUSIC This Week
MAMMOTHwvh - II [AUTOGRAPHED LP/CD](BMG Artists Mgmt)
Recording in his father’s famous 5150 studio, Wolfgang Van Halen does his best to pay tribute to his father (the winding Eighties sound of “Like a Pastime") but ends up sounding more like modern Foo Fighters. Amping up the anthemic (“Take a Bow” could have been on “But Here We Are” even with its bluesy guitar solo,) Wolfgang makes a run for his own glory and the family name carrying on.
CIAN DUCROT - Victory [LP/CD](Geffen/Interscope)
This half-French/half-Irish (pron: KEE-an Due-CROW) singer/ songwriter grew a major audience even scoring a UK Top 20 hit from his TikTok. While he parlayed that into touring with Ed Sheeran (which shows on “I’ll Be Waiting,) his piano balladry could be his real ticket to success on our shores.
CHRIS FARREN - Doom Singer [LP/CD](Polyvinyl/Secretly/AMPED)
Though overstuffed (a radio edit of “Cosmic Leash” could be an automatic Alt radio hit,) former Fake Problems member Chris Farren brings a lot to the table on his fourth solo album. Bursting with creative ideas in a realm where that tends to hurt, “Doom Singer” fits in without trying. “First Place” and its overt Pop sensibility join with the screaming of “Cosmic Leash” to show not Farren’s limits but his capability to write around trends.
JPEGMAFIA/DANNY BROWN [CD](PEGGY/Many Hats Endeavor/AMPED)
It is hard to tell who wins from these two rappers collaborating on this busy, nerve-jangling cutting edge Hip-Hop album. Producer PEGGY assembles such a dizzying array of samples and twisted melodic ideas, that the recognition of some (Al Green on "Tell Me Where To Go") and the inability to comprehend the arrangement of others (the standout "HERMANOS" complete with mid-song breakdown) makes you listen closely. This one is definitely one to watch. Like Harry Fraud's fantastic backdrops on his recent collab with slow-rhymer Valee ("Virtuoso,") it also left us wishing for an instrumental version in the future.
Reissues this week
JOHN AND BEVERLEY MARTYN - Stormbringer!/The Road To Ruin [LP](Proper Records UK)
When the promising Folkie John Martyn married singer Beverley Kutner (a friend of Paul Simon,) their music took a surprising turn into the British Folk being nursed along by Fairport Convention. After a pair of records where Martyn started combining his love of Blues and Jazz with new Folk, Beverley mellowed him to the point of sounding more like Nick Drake. "Stormbringer!" took the duo to Woodstock, NY where they played with bassist Harvey Mason and drummer Levon Helm. Both of them have such a clear influence on the music that producer Joe Boyd pushes them high in the mix. On the title cut to "Stormbringer!," John Martyn takes some chances with double-tracked vocals and altering the mood of his performance (possibly an influence from Beverley who does it so well on "Can't Get The One I Want." "The Ocean" goes a little farther into experimentation with organ, vibes and strings. However, it is "Would You Believe Me?" where Martyn's Echoplex guitar and smooth vocals hint toward what will become synonymous with him in the Seventies.
"The Road To Ruin" was actually recorded with members of Nick Drake's band and it gives both John and Beverley chances to really shine. Beverley's leading on the acoustic balladry really take flight this time out on cuts like "Primrose Hill." Since she gets the soaring, romantic role here, John takes on a subdued habit of singing long, languid lines that warm up the more you listen ("The Road To Ruin.") and he gets his slide guitar back out on the pastoral "Tree Green." However, when both Martyns join forces with Paul Harris' cascading piano chords on "Auntie Aviator" and sing "zoom, zoom, zoom" - you are finally carried away.
THE SMITHS - The Queen Is Dead [LP](Sire/Rhino)
When College Rock began to take its turn into "Alternative," UK critical darlings The Smiths launched a campaign to breakthrough to US shores when a B-side, "How Soon Is Now?" became a calling card to disheveled suburban teenagers everywhere (note: its opening line were scrawled on the Converse high-tops of your humble writer.) It was not that Morrissey communicated for any of us, I mean, them. (Honestly, he still truly only speaks for himself - whether you like it or not.) It was that The Smiths consolidated some of the ill feelings about not fitting in with everyone else, feeling invisible even to yourself, and - the big one - a shared feeling that "social structures" were about to tumble (the bouncy "Frankly, Mr. Shankly" boasts the fantastic line "I've got the 21st Century breathing down my neck.")
So, 1986's "The Queen Is Dead" was the first Smiths album to hit American shores with a little hoopla. Despite its blatant Britishness (that opening: "Take me back to dear old Blighty,!") it was like Shakespeare - the feeling sunk into everyone who listened. "The Queen Is Dead" was new Punk Rock. Morrissey did have to sneer or scream, he could dust a hundred years of tradition with a single couplet (the ferocity of "Bigmouth Strikes Again" with its immortal line "now I know how Joan of Arc felt.") The band was never better. Johnny Marr, ever the inventive guitar player, shows flashes of brilliance that were incomparable to the previous AOR-style Rock everyone grew up with. "Cemetry Gates" was such a painful kiss-off lyrically and bathed in the Romantics of old ("the love, and hate, and passion just like mine. They were born, and then they lived, and then they died.") Marr's bright strumming guitar and the late Andy Rourke's buoyant bass made it shimmer like a Pop song. Their stunning array of surprising guitar Pop got even better with "The Boy With The Thorn In His Side" and the heartbreaking "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out."
Finally, "The Queen Is Dead" was the album where The Smiths finally nailed down two missing facets of their crown. First, the painful ballad of longing. "I Know It's Over" is poetry committed to tape. It boasts two of Morrissey's best lines ever: the painful slice of "if you're so funny, then why are you on your own tonight?" and the painful truth of "It's so easy to hate/It takes strength to be gentle and kind." Finally, what we will call their "song from a dream." Set aside instrumentals like "Oscillate Wildly" or dream-y adventures like "Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want" (or even this album's "Never Had No One Ever,") The Smiths were so close to reeling off a song that sounded so natural and without pretense it could have only emerged from some fugue state. "Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others" finally ticked that box. So alluring, mysterious, haunting, even slightly funny, "Some Girls" marries the repetition of Marr's brightly colored guitar lick with Morrissey's near whisper (for him.) It absolutely made the perfect ending to complement the muscular, blustery opening title track. A perfect album still.
Sadly, "The Queen Is Dead" would begin the long death spiral of The Smiths. Delayed from release, members were succumbing to excess to cope. Shows were cancelled on the tour that followed. The revolving door of membership caught their creative process by surprise as well. Now having developed a following in the US, we were bombarded with a bevy of high-priced import singles with B-sides to study. Then not one but TWO different singles compilations both sharing some tracks but possessing different names. Finally, in September 1987, the long-awaited (how it once was) "Strangeways, Here We Come" was released and it simply could not obscure the message that our favorite band was taking their final bow.
