Beach Sloth

thank u for touching me by marie calloway

                Marie Calloway: some have called her the ‘Bjork of Alt Lit’. Everywhere is Marie’s home. America welcomes her Icelandic spirit. This story is written in an entirely different way versus her previous works. I like the excitement behind it. Here Marie is the center, the star attraction. She surrounds herself with Englishmen. I know Iceland and the UK have an ongoing tiff regarding fishing rights and various pension problems. Glad Kip, Christopher and Marie rise above these petty problems in their encounter. New York City is a true melting pot. 

                Kip lives through his friend who emails Jon Gnarr. Mr. Gnarr believes that Iceland could become an anarcho-socialist society. I agree. Any place with so many indie bands is a prime target for anarcho-socialists. The geothermal energy only adds to the appeal. An added appeal is nobody has particularly strong feelings about Iceland. Quite possibly Iceland may be the most neutral country on the planet. Nothing it does angers anyone, except for the UK, and they are more annoyed than anything. 

                Christopher sends long messages about the avant-garde. He’s a good guy. The avant-garde needs energy. Great avant-garde projects have come from the UK, AMM for one, beautiful in its sheer unpredictability. Experimental literature exists online. Wonder if Christopher has ever heard of alt lit? Many aspects of it are quite experimental, other parts no so much. Figure writing his dissertation would be really easy with alt lit. 

                Threesomes remind me of the Smurfs. No matter what anyone can do to try and change my mind that’s what it is. As I tried reading this story I attempted to focus on Marie’s feelings, on the feelings of the other participants. What did she get out of this I tried to ask? Do people act differently than normal in this situation? Yet each time the Smurfs came up, those obnoxious blue creatures. For Marie is the only woman mentioned in the entire story. Like the Smurfs Kip and Christopher are blue. They are male. She appears to be ‘in the zone’ judging from her perceptions of how everyone around her acts. She has sympathy for Christopher, ‘the sensitive one’. Kip, the self-proclaimed ‘cunt’ fascinates her with his sheer enthusiasm for, uh, life. 

                Kip is the leader. Christopher follows. Marie wonders if Christopher acts differently due to Kip’s imposing sense of self. Eventually she thinks of a story she wrote about a sexualized murder. Glad Marie made it out alive. How it ends is a weird in-between place where everyone is silent in a cab. Those can be great cab rides. Affection from Kip bothers her. After all they’ve been through his emotions bother her whether real or fake. 

                I like the lack of resolution. This is probably one of my favorite Marie Calloway pieces I’ve read. Reading it I feel vaguely happy. Guess this is the largest group of people Marie has included in a piece. I enjoy how they retreat away from the rest of the world to focus on themselves. This is the embodiment of ‘sex as art’ or ‘art as sex’.