Drink to Me Only with Labyrinthine Eyes by Thomas Ligotti




 
Drink to Me Only with Labyrinthine Eyes - the second story in Thomas Ligotti's Nyctalops Trilogy bookended by The Chymist and Eye of the Lynx. And that's Nyctalops as in night blindness, an inability to see clearly in dim light.

The tale's narrator tells us he was born with the full power of a master hypnotist, not a business or profession but a calling, a master hypnotist with eyes so singular they're taken for strange crystallized lenses, eyes befitting one whose destiny has been marked by fate's stigmata.

The narrator mingles with the guests at a party for high society where he will soon take the stage with his stunningly beautiful assistant, an assistant who is, as he tells us, a somnambule. He asks a gentleman if he would like to meet her; however, he knows the answer: “They all do. They all want to know you, my angel.” Sidebar: a somnambule for an assistant is most appropriate since the author's Nyctalops Trilogy is included among those tales under the heading Dreams for Sleepwalkers as part of his Songs of a Dead Dreamer.

Here we have a tale of hypnosis with language that seems to purr, language so flowing, so soothing it can work its hypnotic magic on a reader, as when “a spotlight focuses on a pair of metronomes, their batons sweeping back and forth in perfect unison like windshield wipers in the rain: smoothly back and smoothly forth, back and forth, back and forth. And at the tip of each baton is a replica of each of my eyes swaying left and right in full view of everyone, while my voice speaks to them from a shadowy edge of the stage."

Once again, Thomas Ligotti proves himself master of the craft. Having read Labyrinthine Eyes multiple times, I can assure you the narrator's every single word counts. Thus, rather than offering a synopsis or recounting the evening's entertainment, I will shift to a number of questions readers are invited to explore -

Magical Arts – Can we detect a similarity between the narrator and author Thomas Ligotti, that is, as the narrator was born with the full power of a master hypnotist, so Ligotti was born with the full power of a master storyteller?

Rotten Candy Apple - The narrator tells us: “Even now I hear those high-society vulgarians still laughing, still dancing, still making a fuss over my charismatic doll of the dead.” Is there a sense all those members of high-society are blind to the destructive, putrid consequences they have wrought against others less fortunate and against society at large? Is the opulent, alluring world they've created for themselves, in fact, rancid at its core? Hint: One of these well-dressed scums asks the narrator if his hypnotic skills could serve as a tool for his advertising business.

Light and Darkness – At one point in the evening's performance, the narrator alludes to his assistant as a star. “Already you can see the glowing. She begins to effloresce. She begins to incandesce. And now she approaches such radiance that she almost disappears into it.” Recognizing the female beauty is, in fact, a corpse, is the narrator gifting (or damning) his audience with the Angel of Death?

Thrills and Chills – What are we to make of our modern society's obsession with watching other people suffer? "They wanted the death stuff, the pain stuff. All that flashy junk. They wanted cartwheels of agony; somersaults through fires of doom; nosedives of vulnerable flesh into the meat grinder of life." Turns out, the master hypnotist gives the crowd exactly what it wants – but in unexpected ways.

Mash the Puppet - As in The Chymist, the narrator exerts complete control over the female character’s form. Among other atrocities, he breaks her neck and bones in order to stuff her into an impossibly small box. Could this be the same woman made incapable of screaming from the author's first tale in the trilogy?

Childish Innocence – The hypnotist has a private session with a child. As both he and we as readers discover, the child possess a sharpness of perception; the young boy can see his assistant as a yucky corpse. Recall the boy in the medieval tale who cries out, “The emperor has no clothes!” What is it that separates this youth from those odious bastions of the upper crust?

Plato's Cave – The hypnotist performed in a room where there were no windows, only mirrors. Ha! Scratch the surface and you have the grotesque. Is living in a hall of mirrors any better than looking at shadows in a cave? This brings to mind that famous Gilles Deleuze quote: “If you're trapped in the dream of the Other, you're fucked.”

Death and More Death - The hypnotist's telling pronouncement, “Well, frolic while you can, you dullards. The show isn't over yet.” Are these women and men in store for more death than that of the beautiful assistant? Who knows, perhaps she carries the deadly plague. Echoes of Edgar Allan Poe's Masque of the Red Death.


Thomas Ligotti, born 1953

 

 

 

 

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