On Christmas night 1970, Epi snapped the radio off and rose from his live-in Falcon to go for a walk: a little air until 6 p.m., when the carols finally stop. His dreams of a giant-leap to his own Moon had crashed months earlier, and he still gloomed on the disgrace. Soon he found himself on Hollywood Way, on a bridge looking west toward Pass Avenue. He surveyed the rush of headlights below; imagined leaping to his death. No, I might cause a chain reaction; can’t sink to that. Somehow the flow of traffic triggered a flashback:

Crack! Crack! Crack! Look on my works ye mighty and despair! I am Lee Harvey Oswald, shatterer of worlds!

The moment of empathy stirred mild surprise; the wounds of Dallas were still fresh, yet this insight banished his rage at Oswald’s intolerable smirk. A year earlier he had read a book on the assassination, one that disdained the resentful loner for his Earth-shattering murder. Now Epi felt his own resentment: at his failure, at the shallow book. He knew he could never top Oswald’s publicity stunt; he had to seek a rational outlet for his furies. Yet how tell the world of his reversed antipathy?

It would be three years before Epi read Dante’s Hell, there gaining hints of the dangers of empathy: that to pity the violently estranged is to risk losing one’s Self in wrong-headed sympathy. For now Epi sensed one thing about his Quest for the Apolline Life: He must endure; he must not let the crushing pains and furies defeat him. He must continue this descent through Hades until he finds a way to his higher Self.

An ever-present Now: Christmas 1970, brooding on Apollo and the call to transcendence: Wishy Epi looking west toward Pass Avenue, singing a lyric from “My Sweet Lord,” a single on George Harrison’s recent first solo album, All Things Must Pass

Keith Fahey sees himself as an assassin-spirit transformed: transformed by attraction to literary and musical art, e’er resolved to claim the gifts he has. He learns to laugh at his Furies by surrendering to the artist: literary artists like Herman Melville, Homer, Dante, Ariosto, and Vergil; and musical artists like Andy Williams, Frank Sinatra, Neil Diamond, the Beatles, and Calysta Bevier: Andy singing “Somewhere,” Sinatra singing “That’s Life,” Neil D. singing “Canta Libre,” the Beatles singing “Let It Be,” and Calysta calling him to be “Brave”—not berserk bravado, but quiet acceptance in the crush of pain, loneliness, and despair. “You sang the hell out of it!”

In crisis, he oft recalls too Alexander Pope, whose grave Clarissa is renowned for waving her graceful moral fan:

What then remains but well our power to use,
And keep good humor still whate’er we lose?

And when stones are still bounding within his Shilo skull, he puts on Beethoven’s Sixth and invokes the atom of faith gleaned from John Fowles’ narrator in The French Lieutenant’s Woman: “life ... is not one riddle and one failure to guess it.”

 

December 22, 2016

Announcing the Comic Edition of:

Epimetheus Bound: A Comic Salute to the Epic Tradition
(Or, how Wishy Epi grows older
without becoming an assassin)

698 pages with 38 pages of notes

EB Soft Cover

Epimetheus Bound, Comic Edition, is available online in Book Baby's BookShop and in Vroman's Bookstore in Pasadena in the Local Authors section
Also available at Amazon or Barnes & Noble

Take a look inside Epi Bound ...

Your comments are welcome: Contact Keith Fahey

Thank you for visiting Epi Bound’s Welcome Page.

Updated December 22, 2016

To everything there is a season ...

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Intermediate Trumpet