Like all stories, it changed with time. It shifted from a fun drawing, to a picture with history and some form of meaning. The shift was based on jokes about the position of prominence it holds, where other home might place a crucifix, we have The Fire Chicken. It now lays claim to being “The Deity of the House” (Please do not take this too seriously – It is a Fire Chicken).
Today, The Fire Chicken was dethroned. I took The Fire Chicken off the wall to scan it. I know all my previous roommates felt a shutter in the force, as The Fire Chicken moved for the first time in years. Do not be too alarmed, The Fire Chicken has been returned to it proper place.
As I ponder The Fire Chicken, I think off the number of people who have lived under its “Diety” or those who have visited its shrine (my home). I count at least ten people who have lived here, and countless people have asked us about The Fire Chicken. Its story continues to propagate and the influence of its story spreads far wider than its local impact. Roommates move on, friends change, and stories spread; such is the nature of life and stories.
What prompted this post? The Fire Chicken now has a new story to tell. It was my birthday earlier this month, and my roommate Sam commissioned his younger sister, Laurel, in New York, to write a story about The Fire Chicken. He gave her the title, she created, and I received. The story is excellent! It now hangs on the wall near my desk. It took me two or three readings to fully appreciate the story. So without further ado:
In my previous post about stories, I began to argue that we all live interrupted stories. I think “the Story of a fire Chicken that went Skiing” can help us understand this. The postmodern genius of this story arrives in the third frame. It is here we have a choice, either dismiss everything because a new story breaks in, or accept the interruption and move on with a syncretised understanding. We cannot ignore that we see bunnies and not a fire Chicken in the third frame. Thus, we must conclude that in this story world either a fire Chicken can shape shift, or the story world contains more animals and more spectacular creativity that one originally anticipated. The interruption spurs us on to better understandings, more creative understandings, and more holistic understandings.
There is, however, another option. One may conclude that “the Story of a fire Chicken that went Skiing” is the only story. One may refuse to accept that there has been an interruption in panel three. One may deem panel three “wrong”. I, however, cannot make such claims. I respect the creativity of the author. I acknowledge the limited scope of my understanding of the story. I look to the interruptions for a greater understanding of the story. The story reflects on me, showing my own limitations, while simultaneously showing others (specifically the author) do not have the same limitations. Consequently, I find panel three not to be “wrong”, but to be the best panel in the story because of the immense discovery that goes along with it. The discovery that leads to a great ending. An ending directed at home. Home!
So now. I want to make it abundantly clear. As much as I was talking about “the Story of a fire Chicken that went Skiing” I was also NOT talking about “the Story of a fire Chicken that went Skiing”. Levels, so many levels ;) Stories are great at levels.
Well done Silas. I didn't realize that story had so much to say.
ReplyDeleteSilas I liked this post for so many different reasons...
ReplyDelete1. It has lots of pictures
2. It has a/the fire chicken
3. You used the fire chicken and its story to explore existentialism through narrative
4. the guy say "ooh" in frame 2 (who I interpret to be you)
5. you both interpret and do not interpret and thus FORCE us to interpret in a way that propels us to think...
Wonderful.
I similarly love frame three for all the reasons you have noted. It kicks me both out of the story and then draws me in deeper, forcing me to imagine and consider how to integrate the joyful jumping of the ski bunnies... The declaration of goodness of frame three in frame 4, along with visual disappearance of the fire-chicken and the multi underlining of the word "home" are compelling dimensions that leave one with a sense of both satisfaction and longing simultaneously...
I have come to think that in modernity there has been a profound loss of story and history... Most of us would struggle to give even the loosest of outlines... The cry of modernity "make it new!" continues to reverberate as we have cut ourselves off from both place and tradition... I believe that post modernity is weakest in its most modern aspect: it seeks to cut itself off from modernity just as modernity did from previous history and tradition. Rather, post modernity must be a renaissance that draws us back to the sources, back into our own human story and tradition... While there is interest in recovery of the ancient there is minimal comprehension of our human journey. While our records preserve it we have forgotten to read them. With our ability to record we lost our oral tradition. Our identity has become fractured and disconnected and is now constituted by cafeteria consumerism of ideas, brands and practice that are often an incoherent hodgepodge. Life is compartmentalized rather than integrated. One of the powers of story i think is that I think it demands and encourages integration. We must reconcile ourselves to a whole story or we our not reconciled to it at all. The internal connectedness in narratives pushes us to find, make and understand our own connectedness; to our history, people and the world.
I'm just blown away that you touched the fire chicken... how did it feel?
ReplyDelete