Inconceivable Wilson
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a novella by J.A. Tyler
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ISBN: 978-0-578-04516-0
Dimensions: 4.25″ wide x 6.875″ tall
Binding: Perfect bound Paperback
Pages: 130
First Edition ©2009
Printed in the USA
Cover photo by Andrew Ilachinski
About the book:
A woman in a red dress, ankles strapped in shoes, leaving a man at the airport, at a terminal, holding a photograph of him, this man, and on the back only written: Wilson.
Forgive him, he has become so much less now.
Wilson goes: planes, boats, walking until the sun quits rising, until the sun stops existing, and there he begins, there he becomes. A place where the trees change shape and purpose, the environment lost to nothingness, where people speak in clatters and clicks, incomprehensible, a place where he is lost in blindness, deafening sickness, waves of unencumbered night. And Wilson unties within their circle, these people of pitch and tar, this village, these men and their women, their children. He should be reading them, writing words, penning a culture, creating a world from the tips of sentences, but he is instead consumed by them, bent to charcoal words on canvas made of darkness, hearing always and only the rattling of bones and laughter. Curtains open and he becomes less.
Forgive him, he should not have gone.
Men, women, children play in his brain, finger the creases of his thinking, until he comes undone.
Go, he has gone. Go Wilson. He goes.
Go Wilson. Go.
“I’ve concentrated much of my reading here on how Inconceivable Wilson is constructed, what the narrator’s obsessions are; and much of the pleasure I received from the book came from flowing along within its painterly atmosphere, its lyricism, its odd philosophical speculations. The novella’s incantatory qualities will sweep away attentive readers.” – John Madera, review at Big Other
“As mortals, we have no choice but to suffer through life, to face death. We do not choose to be born, yet we are inevitable. This feels inconceivable, yet there is no escaping our ultimate fate. As Wilson says: “I exist. I am existent. Exit. There is no exit.” Tyler’s wordplay insists there is no exit because life will always become life, recalling themes of reincarnation and the transfer of energies throughout a universal consciousness. This novella seems, then, to be a working Zen Buddhism, as Tyler has, in many ways, explored what the human psyche must undergo to achieve that personal nothingness while contemplating one’s own place in the world. We very much look forward to Tyler’s forthcoming works….” -Eric Beeny, review from Gold Wake Press
