Samalio Pardulus

 

Samalio Pardulus by Otto Julius Bierbaum
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The word "transgressive" is a trite over-used, particularly in academia, where it seems anything is okay to write a thesis on, so long as it's "transgressive". In all honesty, the word is losing its meaning, losing its sting. In my experience, I've seen this phrase used anachronistically in historical and literary theses, in particular. We've made the word blase, boring, even, in the 21st-Century, and imposed it on many texts and circumstances that don't really deserve the word.

Then along comes Otto Julius Bierbaum's Samalio Pardulus. Given that it was first published in 1908, before the horrors of World War I stripped away all innocence (now THAT is a transgressive event if there ever was one!), this work is a prime example of why the word was invented in the first place. Another word that has lost all meaning nowadays, "blasphemous," also describes this work quite well. The corruption of the Christ and Madonna figures in Samalio Pardulus own artwork, along with his un-natural love for his beautiful sister, qualify the work as both blasphemous and transgressive. As with all such "good" examples of such works, the ugly, the evil, and the dark are not only portrayed, but eventually they corrupt those who would have earlier fought against such things (as part of the moral order and how things "ought to be") so much that the erstwhile innocents not only accept the morbid drippings that fall from Pardulus' table, they practically feast on them, in the end. As Messer Giacomo, the initial art-teacher for Pardulus, states "Art is the worst snare of evil". This story sets out to prove that and does so, quite convincingly.

Alfred Kubin's art, always a welcome addition to any book, in my opinion, serves to provide dark glimpses into the scenes and artworks described in the tale. These were not added until the 1911 edition, well before the war, but with a sort of mood that makes one wonder how prescient Kubin was about what was to come in a mere three years. While reading and admiring the art, I thought of the toleplaying game Never Going Home in which the horrors of World War I unleash hell on Earth. This work feels like an initial foray, a peek into what was to come, lurking in the interstices of "good" society.

This is well worth your read. And with the inexpensive, simple, and beautiful editions that Wakefield Press provides (again and again and again), you should feel like you're stealing it when you buy it. You may lose a piece of your innocence.

And that's the perfect mood for this book.



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