(San Diego Comic-Con reminder: I’m at First Second’s booth #1323 where, among other Twain surprise artifacts we’re unveiling are Lorelei ship stationery and a little gift for readers—more on that soon! Also the Sailor Twain ticket gives Twain readers a discount on the San Diego Maritime Museum ships. Twain meet-up is Sunday the 25th, at 8pm at the Steam Ferry Berkeley, a short walk from the convention center—for an after-Con bite at the nearby Anthony’s outdoor Fishette. It may be just a handful of us, as I’ve heard from many they’ll be gone already. Next time, we’ll schedule earlier? Looking forward to seeing whoever comes.)
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As you can imagine, I’m keeping busy at the Comic-Con. Since perhaps this first page of this new chapter doesn’t invite much discussion, as our Lorelei heads South from Albany back towards Manhattan, I thought I’d throw in a couple of items to stimulate comments and discussion, in order, from the ridiculous to the sublime…
First a gratuitous moment of Victorian titillation:
From the Private Collection: A History of Erotic Photography 1850 to 1940. Published by Other Criteria.
Is there any relevance to the story? No, not even anything about the history of bicycles enters into Sailor Twain. Strange to think that this young woman had a whole life before and after this picture. Maybe even her grandchildren lived and died, and this picture has stayed behind.
But some of you out there are better than that (right?) so here’s something on the finer end of the spectrum, to enter into our “Masters of Black and White” archive:
This gem moment is from Emmanuel Guibert, and his Alan’s War
In both cases, he displays a truly masterful elegance of line, composition, and storytelling. And something very, very dear to my heart: Guibert, like the water in this short video, portrays the artist as medium—in every sense of the word, but especially as when the artist becomes the vehicle, becomes the brush, the pen, for other things.
Guibert is that very rare breed of creator, who sometimes sets himself on one side, and becomes transparent. In these two books in particular, his art and skill serve the voice of other men. In Alan’s War
Ok, over to you. Looking forward to your views, across the spectrum! And remember to send an invitation to your friends to come aboard!
Nothing like a little historical pornography. Too bad this rules it out from any involvement in the story!
I’ve never heard of Guibert, but that’s some amazing work. Just watching the ink flow… very skillful. I might have to look into his books.
In the 1890s, bicycle riding was viewed as a threat our national pastime. Owners felt if people were out riding they weren’t watching ballgames and players were fined for doing so. Of course, bicycles have always had a special allure for Victorian women that the Captain’s decorum doesn’t permit us to discuss here, but is evidenced in said photograph.
Thanks for the historical and anatomical precisions, Salty Aire. The Captain would be none too pleased for the lowering of tone occasioned by this entry, if he didn’t have other things on his mind.
Perhaps it just ruined the appreciation of Guibert’s art magic and precluded a fine conversation between us aboard the Lorelei, I’m not sure. Learning as we go, on this maiden voyage.
Very well done Mark, very well done. The tension has been building, and building. The suspense is killing me, and I wanted to scream. I also wouldn’t have it any other way, because it is a testament to you story telling, how well your story can reach out and grab the readers. Keep going! I am the fish on the hook. Throw me back into the river, and i’ll just bite again.
Thank you kindly, Matt. I’m taking your boost of encouragement with me as I return to the noisome circus of San Diego’s Comic Con, where in the tens of thousands of attendees, there are still a few who are into books…
Okay, the Guibert video officially made my top ten list of “holy crap” moments in art creation.
I can’t even begin to guess how very, very long and well he must have been working to make ink do what he did there.
At the same time, it’s such a wild variance from the work I do (principally digital photography, typography, and vector art, with the occasional opportunity to foray into pencils and inks) that it’s difficult for me to imagine being so willing to let something so organic, so stochastic, have total control over the success or failure of an image.
That’s a level of skill — and courage — and most especially patience — that simply leaves me astonished.
Plus: Nekkid lady on a bike. And a new chapter of ST. Where I come from, we call that a trifecta.
Mark, your pacing is perfect, and the cliffhangers so well timed! Nothing like throwing in a nekkid lady on a bicycle to get the readers through the weekend. My first thought was, “How is that bicycle staying upright?” and I wasn’t satisfied ’til I figured it out. I’m guessing other readers found different distractions.
This is reminiscent of a cross-country train trip, during which one settles in for the journey and enjoys the sidetracking. The thrill is in the voyage, not in reaching the destination.
As for our dear Twain: “The Captain would be none too pleased for the lowering of tone occasioned by this entry, if he didn’t have other things on his mind. ” Would that be the gorgeous half-dressed creature in his bed, perchance? Oh, heavens.
Apaprently Warren and I wrote “nekkid lady on a bicycle” at the same moment. While I agree with everything Warren has ever written here (I am now an avidociter of Warren as well as you) and admire his inventiated verbalities, I must stress that we are not the same person.
Purely by coincidence, this is exactly what the weather is like in Albany today. (And, I imagine, points just south.)
“The river looks a little crowded today, dear…”
“All the better! Perhaps we’ll see some friends out on the water.”
All in favor of going boating! Even in the rain.
And Anne, there’s a pole tucked under the seat going off behind the bike at about a 45-degree angle. It’s the dark line without flowers on it. Cleverly hidden.
Anne:
“Apaprently Warren and I wrote “nekkid lady on a bicycle” at the same moment.”
Or within ten minutes of it, at any rate. Now that’s just spooky.
“Avidociter” — aha, so now begins the word-coinage subtext?
Game on, Warren. In a totally laid-back, Twainiferous way.
How does she defy gravity’s rainbow? The bicycle has a standard “kick stand” that is visible behind the sprocket. However, to hold such an angelic figure, even an unclothed one, you can see that both tires are secured to the floor and a paper covering hides most of the floor bolting. Blended in with that magnificent background, it’s the digital avatar of its day. Perhaps this is what drove Lance Armstrong to roids?
It must be some odd testament to the artistic perspective of Twainers that we are addressing engineering strategies instead of the presence of a nude woman on a bicycle.
I’m thinking Terry Gilliam might be a little frustrated with us.
I for one will never think of handlebars in quite the same way again.
I’m just finishing up a piece of writing where a minor character happened to be named Twain. I thought I’d be clever and name him after the author of my comic addiction.
Your first name is Mark???!!!! Mark – Twain??!!!!
Was that completely obvious to every other reader from the start? I’m feeling seriously startled here.
Hi Adele, will you share your piece of writing when it’s done?
At some point, I think I’ll post about the writing in Twain, about the choice of ‘register’ for the language, and about names. Twain and Lafayette have obvious roots in the American psyche. The initial thoughts I entered into the story with have opened up and revealed more meanings as the adventure unfolded. A hint for later in the story about Twain’s name? Look at his birthday. Another is to be found in anagramming “Twain”… More to come!
And yes, I evaded the question.
“you can see that both tires are secured to the floor and a paper covering hides most of the floor bolting.” I missed those. With the edges of the tire out of the frame, they could have been bolted to a sturdy framework as well and nobody would be the wiser. It does look like the pedals are secured with wire, although the chain is still in place, so I’m guessing that was how she got up there. And she’s sitting on what looks like a pillow, and holding the seat with her right hand.
I’m assuming that saying “Ok, quick, take the picture before I fall off!” would have been ridiculous with the cameras of the day. It’s a very clear photo, without even the slight blurring that I expect in pictures of people who had to breath while their picture was taken. H.O. must have been quite the photographer.