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The Electric Philosopher
Irresponsible Pseudophilosophy
Saturday, 26 December 2015
Chasm by Nick Land: Review
Chasm is Nick Land's latest offering to the world of (e-)letters, and it's certainly a welcome
addition to my Kindle library. Although, it's very, very odd (but then again, if you know the first
thing about Land you knew to expect, and, indeed, welcome that).
The writing is a lot tighter than in Phyl-Undhu, his previous work of fiction, released last year. His
focus is much sharper, the narrative strays less (don't get me wrong, as I've already attested to,
Phyl-Undhu is brilliant), and yet it's much more difficult to say what the hell Chasm is about. P-U
remained in conceptual territory I have a fairly good familiarity with (The Great Filter, Fermi, the
simulation hypothesis), while everything here is much more abstract, which is entirely the point: it
contains an appendix called 'Manifesto for an Abstract Literature' after all. Land's inner maths
(Qabalah) nerd was obviously having a lot of fun here, and my comparative numerical illiteracy
blunted my enjoyment a little.
The story follows five men in a boat ('Oh, is he doing Heart of Darkness?' I asked myself early on.
Well, sort of.), sent out into the Pacific by the mysterious QASM corporation to dispose of
something by dropping it into the Mariana Trench. The object in question is described as more of
an absence than a presence, a block of unrelfective material which presumably contains
something. This is pure MacGuffin of course, which Land more-or-less explicitly admits, but by
Cthulhu it's creepy all the same. As the journey continues, the crew enter into a state of total
insomnia...and yet, the lack of sleep doesn't keep them from dreaming...
This is pure Nick Land. There's much Lovecraft in the crew's decaying sanity, and the horror from
the sea vibe, with delicious passages discussing the life that lives around deep-sea volcanic
vents so far, far down that the sun's rays never reach down to them except in the form of the
faintest of particle rays; the preoccupation with numbers; broken causality and linearity;
suggestions of an alignment between corporate and 'deep state' interests. Like Phyl-Undhu,
there's some interesting stuff in the appendices, which I don't think I've ever seen on
Xenosystems so it may very well be unique to this publication. And again like Phyl-Undhu, this
feels a lot like a puzzle that Land is expecting us to try and solve, though, for reasons that will
become obvious when you read it, I'm not sure how willing I am to let this stuff too far into my
head.
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In terms of sheer construction, Chasm is better than Phyl-Undhu, though I must confess I enjoyed
the latter slightly more. It gives you a taste of the wider world of its setting, without giving you too
much to chew on, leaving you wanting more, which is always a good move for speculative fiction.
I think Chasm is best approached as an experiment, rather than just the cleverer kind of weird
story. It's an experiment in constructing a literature composed of hints and suggestions at the
abstract, perhaps even the thing-in-itself, rather than giving us anything definite.
To quote the appendix:
Abstract literature writes in clues, with clue words, but without hope. It is the
detective fiction of the insoluble crime, the science fiction of an inconceivable future,
the mystery fiction of the impregnable unknown, proceeding through cryptic names
of evocation, and rigid designators without significance. The weirdness it explores
does not pass, unless to withdraw more completely into itself. There is no answer,
or even - for long- the place for an answer. Where the solution might have been
found waits something else. Description is damage.
The best monster is one you never see. Everyone knows that. The only disappointing moment in
Alien is when you actually see the bloody thing at the end. A perfect horror story would be one
where you never see anything, or hear anything, or even really know anything. It's one where you
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