Anti-Labyrinths by Boris Glikman and Michael Cheval

Discover the Philosophical, Fantastical Fiction of Australian Writer Boris Glikman, and a Sneak Peek of His Upcoming Coffee Table Book, Anti-Labyrinths, with Art by Michael Cheval


Terra Incognita II by Michael Cheval

Over the years, I have published many of Australian author, Boris Glikman‘s short stories on my blog, because I’m a fan of his work. He is currently working on a coffee table book collection of his fictional, philosophical, and fantastical stories that will be accompanied by the gorgeous, surrealistic paintings of artist Michael Cheval whose work inspired many of Boris’s stories. It is my pleasure to offer my readers a glimpse into Boris’s upcoming book, Anti-Labyrinths.

But first, here is a list of story titles by Boris Glikman and links to each of them on this blog (in order of latest publishing to earliest). If you have not already read this man’s work, I strongly urge you to do so as it is entertaining, fantastical, philosophical, and thought-provoking.

The Great Switch by Boris Glikman | Bodacious Copy

Reality and “Reality”: A New Perspective by Boris Glikman | Bodacious Copy

The Light of Their Lives by Boris Glikman | Bodacious Copy

Existential Prose: A Train’s Journey by Boris Glikman | Bodacious Copy

Waiting for John / An Ode to the Century Past / Imagine by Boris Glikman | Bodacious Copy

The Shadow of the Great Nebula of Orion by Boris Glikman | Bodacious Copy

The Pen of Plenty (or A Portrait of an Artist as the Entire Universe) by Boris Glikman | Bodacious Copy

The Caterpilion by Boris Glikman | Bodacious Copy

The Curious Story of Frank and His Friend Mr. Stims, The Hydrophobe by Boris Glikman | Bodacious Copy

The (Virtually) Real Life by Boris Glikman | Bodacious Copy

The Day the Internet Died by Boris Glikman | Bodacious Copy

Boris Glikman – Underground Australian Celebrity with A Mind Like A Planet | Bodacious Copy

The Substitute Sun by Boris Glikman | Bodacious Copy

America in the Sky (in Memoriam) by Boris Glikman | Bodacious Copy

The Day Death Died by Boris Glikman | Bodacious Copy

The mePhone by Boris Glikman | Bodacious Copy

Anti-Labyrinths

by Boris Glikman

In an ancient land, distant in time and space, the absolute ruler decreed that a new construction would be built – in the centre of the capital city – an anti-labyrinth, a place where people could go to find themselves if they felt lost or at odds with themselves or with their lives.

What is an anti-labyrinth, you might well ask? Well, everything in this world has its antithesis. And so, just as a labyrinth is a place in which people get lost and experience confusion, frustration, and sometimes fear and despair, a maze in which one must traverse a long and often tortuous path to its centre, becoming disorientated while seeking the secrets that lie at its core, an anti-labyrinth is a place in which the centre lies at every point, where mysteries and truths are revealed and comprehended with each new step, a place without any dead ends, where every path leads to the finishing point, and where instead of getting lost, one finds oneself and realises one’s place in the Universe.
 
(This is also how the book Anti-Labyrinths is structured – you can enter or exit it at any point, you don’t have to begin reading it at its beginning or finish reading it at its end, and at every point of the book secrets and truths are revealed.)

An anti-labyrinth is not an abstract or fictional entity that resides only in books or in the imagination. On the contrary, an anti-labyrinth is a well-defined solid structure, yet its form is not stable and changes over time, sometimes taking on the shape of a building, other times the shape of a tree, occasionally the form of a tune, and many other forms too. Presently, it has taken on the form of a book which you are now holding in your hands.

The Substitute Sun by Boris Glikman

The Substitute Sun

by Boris Glikman

The Substitute Sun by Boris Glikman
Image by Agnieszka

The world awoke one bright morning to find that the Sun was gone, replaced by a circular cardboard cut-out. The cut-out was roughly coloured in by a yellow pencil, with some of the colouring straying beyond the circumference of the disc and staining the blueness of the sky. Short cardboard rays were coming out of the rim and there was a smiley face sketched inside the circle. It looked just like a child’s drawing of the Sun.

After mankind had recovered from the shock of losing their beloved star, plans were made to locate it and put it back in its rightful place. Great rewards were offered to anyone who could provide information as to its whereabouts. Police forces allocated their best men to try and pinpoint who was likely to commit such an act.  Pressure was put on crime organisations to reveal if this was their doing and if so, how much they wanted for the Sun’s safe release. Clairvoyants were called upon to use their abilities to intuit where it might be held against its will.

Despite these exhaustive efforts, the Sun remained missing, although people still clung to the hope that it would be found alive.

With time’s passing, the pain of losing the Sun became less acute. The world slowly grew accustomed to the substitute and even began to appreciate its benefits. People understood how lucky they were that this impostor gave out the same amount of warmth and illumination as the original star. The physicists were pleased that the replacement exerted an identical gravitational force, so that Earth’s orbit remained unchanged; the workers were content that the stand-in did not increase their hours of labour, and the farmers were thankful that the cardboard disc provided an equivalent quantity of light to nourish their crops.

Eventually, it was seen as quite appropriate to have a bogus sun, given that so much else was phony in society: fake tans; fake smiles; fabricated, unnatural foods; artificial noses on artificial faces; living simulated lives on the computer. Many believed that the substitute was put in the sky as a sign of the divine approval of the world’s false ways. Consequently, it was concluded that unauthenticity is the true nature of man.

Centuries passed and there was nobody left on Earth who had experienced the glory of the original Sun. The crudely coloured cardboard circle with its cardboard rays and smiley face was now the only sun that the world had ever known. Lovers swooned under the warm beauty of its radiance; composers wrote symphonies dedicated to the perfection of its proportions; poets extolled the rich vibrancy of its colour in their sonnets and religious worshippers thanked their Maker for gifting the Earth with such a miracle of nature.

Boris Glikman

The Day Death Died by Boris Glikman

The Day Death Died

by Boris Glikman

Andy 7
Image by Andy Paciorek

It’s time for another quirky short story from Australian author Boris Glikman. Death is a topic that has been on my mind a lot over the last couple of years as I’ve lost so many people I’ve known and loved so this concept is particularly thought-provoking for me. Enjoy!

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It was widely known that Death had been ill for some time. Its poor health made it rather slipshod in the execution of its duties. Whole generations were being taken away in the flower of their youth, while other people were living for an extraordinarily long time, over 400 years in certain cases.

For a while Death hovered in a half-alive condition, with one foot in the grave, and mankind held its breath, fearing that it would rally and make a complete recovery.

And then the day came when Death breathed its last and nobody could believe their good fortune. It was hard to grasp that Death no longer dwelled in the world, and that one’s life would never again be burdened with the ever-present spectre of extinction hovering nearby. No one would have to grapple any more with the problem of incorporating one’s own demise into their lives.

The most eminent pathologists of the land were assigned the task of performing autopsy on Death. Their unanimous conclusion was that it died of natural causes. What nobody had suspected was that Death possessed a finite life span. Everyone always assumed that it would live forever, yet it too carried within itself the lethal seeds of mortality.

The next most pressing issue on the agenda was the burial of Death. Issues that never have been considered before needed to be addressed urgently, for the world wanted to be sure that Death really was dead and would not rise again. Where should the funeral ceremony be held? According to which religion’s rites should the memorial service be conducted? Who should give the eulogy? Where to entomb it?

The matter of whom to invite for the service proved to be the most intractable issue of all. It was nearly impossible to determine who was genuinely grief-stricken by Death’s passing and who only wanted to attend the ceremony so as to be a part of a historic occasion.

Eventually, all of these matters were resolved, although not to everyone’s satisfaction, and the world gave Death the sending off that it deserved. Straight after the funeral, the world kicked up its heels and started to celebrate.

After the wave of joy at being liberated from its tyrannical rule had abated, people sobered up and started to remember the ways that Death had helped out in the past.

They recalled with fondness Death’s unique ability to resolve every inextricable problem of existence; its unmatched faculty of erasing all pain, shame and misery; how it provided an honourable solution to hopeless situations and readily offered its helping hand to anyone that would ask for it; the way that it brought equality to the world and granted everlasting rest to the weary.

Religions could no longer survive without Death, for their appeal and authority derived from the promise of ideal existence in the next world. New religions arose which prophesied that one day mortality would return to Earth and that the virtuous would be rewarded with Eternal Death.

Mankind recognised how fundamentally it depended upon Death’s existence for the maintenance of social order and peaceful international relations. Given that capital punishment and armed conflicts ceased holding any threat to a person’s life, nothing stood in the way of lawlessness and immorality in human affairs, and countries went to war on the slightest pretext.

Life soon lost its meaning, for Death had been needed to provide the contrast that distinguished being from non-being. Without it, existence seemed tedious, no longer worth enduring.

Each human being was forced to find the strength to face a baffling future in which the saving grace of demise was no longer present. Only then was it realised how Death had woven its fateful thread into every aspect of man’s existence and how much had been irremediably lost the day Death died.