9 ways of looking at earthquakes through literature
Earthquakes are the expression of a living planet, the earth's way of re-inventingitself. But while this knowledge may be consoling in the abstract, it's not very useful in the face of a catastrophe such as last week's quake and tsunami in Japan. At these times, we need real consolation: food and water, emergency services and rescue ... and, David L. Ulin suggests, literature. Ulin is the author of "The Myth of Solid Ground: Earthquakes, Prediction and the Fault Line Between Reason and Faith."
For as long as we have experienced seismicity, we have written about it, going back to the Book of Acts. Below are nine works (one for each of this most recent earthquake's points of magnitude) that channel both our terror and our awe.
1) "The Earthquake in Chile" by Heinrich von Kleist.Originally published in 1807, Kleist's novella takes place duringthe 1647 Santiago earthquake and ends tragically, with a young couple killed after having been blamed, in a sermon, for the disaster. But Kleist has a bigger purpose, which is to highlight the idea that meaning is a matter of interpretation, that what we know is what we see. "[O]nly when he turned and saw the city leveled to the ground behind him," he writes, "did he remember the terrifying moments he had just experienced. He bowed his forehead to the very ground as he thanked God for his miraculous escape; and as if this one appalling memory, stamping itself on his mind, had erased all others, he wept with rapture to find that the blessing of life, in all its wealth and variety, was still his to enjoy."
2) "The Flutter of an Eyelid" by Myron Brinig.Published in 1933, Brinig's novel is the great modernist fantasy of Los Angeles (every city needs one), although it is essentially unread today. The book ends with a massive earthquake, in which the entire state of California breaks off from North America and crumbles into the Pacific, "Los Angeles toboggan[ing] with almost one continuous movement into the water, the shore cities going first, followed by the inland communities; the business streets, the buildings, the motion picture studios in Hollywood where actors became stark and pallid under their mustard-colored makeup."
3) "The Folklore of Earthquakes" by Carey McWilliams.Written in response to the 1933 Long Beach earthquake, McWilliams'essay is a clear-eyed guide to both what we might call earthquake myths and the powerful terror the shaking provokes. "On the basis of their reaction to the word earthquake,” he writes, "Californians can be divided into three classes: first, the innocent late arrivals who have never felt an earthquake but who go about avowing to all and sundry that 'it must be fun'; next, those who have experienced a slight quake and should know better, but who none the less persist in propagating the fable that the San Francisco quake of 1906 was the only major upheaval the State has ever suffered; and, lastly, the victims of a real earthquake -- for example, the residents of San Francisco, Santa Barbara, or, more recently, Long Beach. To these last, the word is full of terror. They are supersensitive to the slightest rattles and jars, and move uneasily whenever a heavy truck passes along the highway."
4) "Ask the Dust"by John Fante.In this 1939 novel, generally regarded as a cornerstone of the Southern California literary canon, Fante describes the struggles of a young man named Arturo Bandini, based directly on himself. In one particularly memorable set piece, Bandini survives the Long Beach earthquake, which he interprets as divine retribution for his sins. "You did it, Arturo," he reflects. "This is the wrath of God. You did it.... Repent, repent before it’s too late. I said a prayer but it was dust in my mouth. No prayers. But there would be some changes made in my life. There would be decency and gentleness from now on. This was the turning point."
