#Parabola Magazine

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Jaime Bird :: Pittsburgh :: Jan 1, 2024

* * * *

“I wanted to stand with those who clearly see G-d’s holy broken world for what it is, and still find the courage or the heart to praise it.” 

—Leonard Cohen on the inspiration to create ‘Hallelujah’. Joshua Boettiger on King David, Leonard Cohen and the Search for Meaning from Parabola Magazine.

#2024 #New Year #Jaime Bird #Pittsburgh #Leonard Cohen #quotes #Hallelujah #Joshua Boettiger #King David #Parabola Magazine

[onenakedfarmer]

We don't get home mail delivery and have a mailbox in town, so we only pick up mail two or three times a week. Tonight was like Christmas in October.

Saturday is the anniversary of saying goodbye to little Oliver.

I'm spending this rainy weekend with Alan Rickman.

SIgh.

#Alan Rickman #dogs #in remembrance #my dogs #Oliver #Parabola #reading #The Sun magazine

[lromanus]

And then I saw you, again, after a long time (and I kissed you and blessed you and kept you). And I thought, you are my touchstone now; my home.

—Surnaí Molloy, 'The Word For Soul'

 parabola magazine

[nwbeerguide]

Firestone Walker Brewing releases the "crushable" Firestone XPA. The first in a seasonal series for 2024.

Press Release Paso Robles, CA: Firestone Walker today unveiled its first of three seasonal offerings slated for 2024—the all-new Firestone XPA, a next-generation extra pale ale brewed with Southern Hemisphere hops and California style, available now in all Firestone Walker markets. Find it with the FW Beer Finder.  “XPA is the number one craft beer style in Australia and it’s something we’re excited to champion it here in the U.S.," said Brewmaster Matt Brynildson. "The appeal of XPAs is obvious--they offer everything you love in a good pale ale at a crushable ABV. We fell in love with the style during our travels to hop farms across Australia and New Zealand and we were inspired to make our own." Firestone XPA (5% ABV) is rolling out to all Firestone Walker markets in can (12-oz six packs) and limited  draft formats for the duration of winter and through the spring season into June. An early batch of Firestone XPA earned a Bronze Medal at the 2023 Great American Beer Festival in the International Pale Ale category. Crisp, Hoppy & Crushable Firestone XPA is built around New Zealand’s Nelson hop with its grapefruit and tropical Sauvignon Blanc qualities, all backed up with a dollop of classic Mosaic hops. The resulting beer offers a trifecta of drinkability: crisp, hoppy and crushable.  Firestone XPA also taps into Firestone Walker’s roots as a heritage brewer of California pale ales.  “Creating this beer brought a lot of joy to our production team, there was definitely some pent-up enthusiasm for pale ale brewing,” Brynildson said. “We went all in to fine-tune several test batches and nail what we were after with this beer.” He added, “We wanted to lead with the punchy tropical qualities of the Nelson hop, and we found that adding just the right amount of Mosaic makes the fruit flavors all the more lush and expansive.”  “XPA is the predominant beer style in Australia for a reason,” said Firestone Walker Brand Director Hannah Barnett. “I think it has the potential to take the U.S. by storm at some point, or at the very least become a fixture in the American pale ale landscape. We’d like to be part of making that happen.” # # # Founded in 1996 by brothers-in-law Adam Firestone and David Walker, Firestone Walker is a second-generation, family-led brewery based on California’s Central Coast. Helmed by highly decorated Brewmaster Matt Brynildson, Firestone Walker's main brewery in Paso Robles produces a diverse portfolio including 805, California's #1 craft beer brand; Mind Haze, a top 5 national hazy IPA; and Cali Squeeze, one of the nation's fastest-growing beer brands. The Firestone brand family also includes iconic beers such as DBA, Union Jack, and Pivo Pils, as well as the storied Vintage Series of barrel-aged strong ales led by Parabola. As a California beer company, Firestone Walker also has two additional locations: the Barrelworks wild ale cellar in Santa Barbara County and the Propagator R&D brewhouse in Venice. Firestone Walker was recently named “Best American Brewery of the Decade” by Paste Magazine. More at 805beer.com and FirestoneWalker.com from Northwest Beer Guide - News - The Northwest Beer Guide https://bit.ly/433i7u3

#Craft Beer #Beer #News

[fuckyeah-jessicabiel]

Jessica Biel for Empire Magazine - August 2007

AS ANY HOLLYWOOD-FLAVOURED LIFE COACH WOULD TELL YOU IT’S IMPORTANT TO HAVE A PERSONAL GOAL THUS, RARELY DO FIND A HOT YOUNG ACTRESS WHO ISN'T ON THE PATH TO ATTAIN HER AMBITIOUS BUT PERFECTLY ATTAINABLE GOAL. THE THING ABOUT JESSICA BIEL, SO HEALTHY-LOOKING YOU WONDER she can cure all known ailments with a touch of her silky hand, is that she has already reached her goal. Or rather, scored it. "The usual thing was, put me in front of goal and I'm hopeless," says the right-s midfielder-turned-actress who's having one of those real moments at the moment. ' team-mates were like, •No don't give her the ball!' And my then boyfriend was -I mean, he never came - and I came running up the right side and hit it, I mean perfectly.

The ball left her foot on a perfect parabola and everything went slo-mo. She did just bend it like Beckham; this had the graceful arc of Pele in '70, Maradona in '06, Lineker in '90 (although she wasn't goal-hanging), and it nestled on a postage seam in the top left-hand corner of the net. "It was an awesome, awesome goal," she grins. You do know it won't get any better than that? I know, I know, but what can you do?" she shrugs. "And that boyfriend ended up being a total idiot anyway. Ugh, I wasted my big goal on you..." Quite what that now-very-much-ex-boyfriend was thinking is impassible to gran a former girlfriend who is not only lighting up Hollywood like a very sexy-shaped G light, but also boasts the polished skills born of years of playing soccer for her local team. Anyway, Biel has moved on and moved up. She's become the current "it” girl, across magazine covers, but is determined to be seen as more than a pretty face. "I don't feel afraid of putting myself out there," she asserts. "I think at this point in my career it's necessary. I don't want to just keep doing things I've done before, to take any risks. I'm always craving something a little dirtier."

The Biel spiel is already well-honed- the 25 year-old from Boulder, Colorado, the bit between her pearly teeth, ready, willing and highly likely to take it to the next How she has sprinted up the touchline of fame: modelling to television drama (7th to Freddie Prinze Jr. romantic comedy (Summer Catch) to scream queen (The Texa Saw Massacre remake) to vampire-hunting (Blade Trinity) to the period drama eve loved (The Illusionist) and girlfriend of... Oh, don't go there. We (the press) have been informed (by the publicist) politely (but firmly) that an questions will not be tolerated - the response will be immediate termination. It is whether this means the interview or your life. Still, it remains the elephant in the te-so to speak; Biel's personal life has become the talk of the town. So let's get this out.

#jessica biel #empire magazine #articles #magazines #soccer #2007 #adam lavorgna

[parabola-magazine]

Lisa Starr remembers beloved poet, Mary Oliver in our summer issue, THE WILD: 

We now know, through some of the later poems, a few of the details about the abuse she endured as a child, and we also know that she used her craft to transform not only her own suffering, but also the heartbreaking nature of the world—the fact, say, that everything and everyone is going to die—into a thing of beauty. Think of 'Night and The River;' think of the snapping turtle she found and captured in the city and released into a nearby pond because: “Nothing’s important/except that the great and cruel mystery of the world,/of which this is a part,/ not be denied.”

Read it here.

Pictured: Mary Oliver, photograph by Tricia Spoto

#parabolamagazine #MaryOliver #TheSearchForMeaning #poetry

#Parabola Magazine #Mary Oliver #poetry

[carolkeiter]

Sufi master – Fire Season | Myth of Progress and Endless Economic growth fostering Ecocide

Sufi master – Fire Season | Myth of Progress and Endless Economic growth fostering Ecocide

Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee – Sufi teacher in the Naqshbandiyya-Mujaddidiyya Sufi Order – writes for Parabola Magazine Fire Season – A Sufi master looks at—and beyond—the approaching flames “Will the fires and floods finally awaken us, turn our attention back to the living Earth? Or have we lost that connection, that place of belonging? How long before we are forced to wake from this nightmare of…

View On WordPress

#climate change #Ecocide #economic progress fuels ecocide #everything is sacred #Fire Season #fires #global warming #Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee #mass extinction #materialism #multidimensional kinship #parabola magazine #Sufi master

[abiding-in-peace]

Drifting pitifully in the whirlwind of birth and death, As if wandering in a dream, In the midst of illusion I awaken to the true path; There is one more matter I must not neglect, But I need not bother now, As I listen to the sound of the evening rain Falling on the roof of my temple retreat In the deep grass of Fukakusa.

Eihei Dōgen (1200 - 1253)

#Eihei Dōgen #parabola magazine

[crashinglybeautiful]

“I wanted to stand with those who clearly see G-d’s holy broken world for what it is, and still find the courage or the heart to praise it.” —Leonard Cohen on the inspiration to create ‘Hallelujah’.

Joshua Boettiger on King David, Leonard Cohen and the Search for Meaning from Parabola Magazine.

#Leonard Cohen #Parabola Magazine

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

“...this notion of effort. This word at first means something you strive for. But you understand at a certain point that the kind of effort you need to comprehend is different; that what is meant by effort is letting go. It is an effort because I have to struggle against what is ingrained in me about the idea of effort: I want to get something, to do something. Finally, after years of trying, I begin to understand that the nature of effort is to allow something to appear. This new meaning of effort has to do with relaxation. And it is really an effort to understand relaxation when all my training is to strive, to battle against, to chastise some aspect of myself.”

~ Paul Reynard, 'Another Axis Within: An Interview with Paul Reynard', Parabola

(Ian Sanders)

#quotes #effort #Paul Reynard #Ian Sanders #Parabola Magazine

[blackmoonmusings]

Skip Maselli, from Parabola magazine Volume 46 Number 4

Winter 2021-2022; “Season on the Equator”

#skip maselli #words #my posts #lit #literature #quote #quotes #poetry #poem

[lromanus]

I turned the world upside down, I hung myself in space; the sensation of emptiness, beneath the soles of my feet, beyond the thin sheet of the plane’s walls, for days. Pausing in the interstitial airports that could have been anywhere in the world, that could have been in any season; I walked in circles for hours. Until I landed into summer, into a green, sloping world. Kia Ora.

Sleep-deprived and anxious, hurriedly preparing for customs, I emptied my pockets of stray seashells. That piece of home I carry with me everywhere—that small stone with the perfect hole through it—I left on the plane (I kissed it and blessed it and left it). It belonged to a different world than this one. 

And then I saw you, again, after a long time (and I kissed you and blessed you and kept you). And I thought, you are my touchstone now; my home.

—Surnaí Molloy, 'The Word For Soul'

 parabola magazine

[nwbeerguide]

Back in 2023, Firestone Walker Brewing releases their latest edition of Parabola, barrel-aged imperial stout.

Press Release

Paso Robles, CA: Firestone Walker’s iconic Parabola imperial stout is back with a new vintage that was aged in a rare blend of spirits barrels from Blanton’s and W.L Weller distilleries. This release is also accompanied by the next edition of a small-batch spinoff called “Paraboloid,” which was aged in 20-year-old Elijah Craig bourbon barrels. 

The 2023 vintage of Parabola is rolling out to all Firestone Walker markets in limited 12-ounce bottle and draft formats. Meanwhile, 12-ounce bottles of Paraboloid are available for a limited time at all Firestone Walker locations and online at FirestoneBeer.com. 

Parabola is always a beast of a beer, with intense flavors of black cherry, dark chocolate, vanilla and roast coffee—yet each annual release also bears its own subtle imprint, gained from aging in a unique mix of barrels from one year to the next. 

True to form, the 2023 edition was aged for a year in an equal combination of eight-year-old Blanton’s bourbon and 12-year-old W.L. Weller wheated whiskey barrels. The wheated whiskey barrels accentuated Parabola’s signature richness with fine notes of cereal grain, while the bourbon barrels imparted their classic notes of toasted coconut and cocoa nibs.

“These barrels are pretty rare, and we’ve never used them to this extent in Parabola,” said Brewmaster Matt Brynildson. “I’ve been a longtime fan of Blanton’s, and I’m a more recent fan of Weller, and together they add a flavorful new twist on the story of Parabola.”

Origin Story

The origins of Parabola date back to 2005, when it was created as a component for Firestone Walker’s first barrel-aged Anniversary Ale, which was called Ten. When this inaugural Anniversary Ale was released the following year, it became an immediate sensation and helped spark the coming surge in barrel-aged craft beers. 

Along the way, Parabola gained a cult reputation of its own, finally meriting its own stand-alone release in 2010. Ever since, Parabola has returned each spring as a small-batch Firestone Walker staple. Today, Parabola maintains a perfect 100-point rating on Beer Advocate. 

Paraboloid: Aged in 20-Year Elijah Craig Barrels

Parabola also achieves new heights in the limited small-batch spinoff known as Paraboloid. 

The story of this beer began when it was aged in a special selection of premium 20-year-old Elijah Craig bourbon barrels. These barrels complemented Parabola’s flavors with mellow hints of oak, fudge and chocolate brownie. 

“The rarity of these barrels speaks for itself, we were grateful to secure them,” Brynildson said. “They’re as old as the Parabola recipe itself. We’ve used Elijah Craig barrels in our barrel-aging program for a long time. Their barrels are super consistent and I’m a massive fan of their bourbons—but I’d never seen a 20-year-old Elijah Craig barrel until now.”

Additionally, the beer was aged for a full 18 months prior to blending and bottling, cultivating an ultra-smooth mouthfeel for this prodigiously flavorful stout. 

# # #

Founded by brothers-in-law Adam Firestone and David Walker in 1996, Firestone Walker Brewing Company is a California beer company with three innovative brewing facilities. Firestone Walker’s main brewery in Paso Robles produces a diverse portfolio ranging from iconic pale ales to vintage barrel-aged beers. The Barrelworks facility in Buellton makes eccentric wild ales, while the Propagator pilot brewhouse in Venice specializes in R&D beers and limited local offerings. Firestone Walker is also the brewery behind 805, one of the nation’s fastest-growing beers. Firestone Walker was recently named “Best American Brewery of the Decade” by Paste Magazine.

from Northwest Beer Guide - News - The Northwest Beer Guide https://bit.ly/3y1iZke

#Craft Beer #Beer #News

[dk-thrive]

Every human being who gets up in the morning and forms a positive attitude to overcome their obstacles and live in the face of the destructive forces around them is a hero.

This means, oddly, that the realm of heroism doesn’t lie in outward action; it is within us, where we form our attitude towards things, that the hero is born, not in the deeds that he or she does to save the world. Every human being who gets up in the morning and forms a positive attitude to overcome their obstacles and live in the face of the destructive forces around them is a hero. And they will always be a hero, whether they succeed or fail, because the hero is already there in the attitude, regardless of whether they live or die in the context of all the forces that would drag us down.

The hero starts here, and starts now, by saying, yes – I can Be. I can have a wish for the good.

We have a choice in our lives. We can practice this simple science of metaphysics in simple ways, by understanding how we form the outer world through our inner attitude; and we can begin in every moment by trying to make an effort for the good, rather than letting everything go down.

—Lee van Laer, from “A Simple Science” in Parabola Magazine, (via Alive on All Channels) 

#Lee Van Laer #good #hero #morning

[giftwrappingpaper]

wangxian bakery au

prompt: "I'd love to enable a creator to write/draw that self-indulgent niche workplace AU they've always wanted to make."

Lan Zhan finds Wei Ying baking bread in the kitchen of a hole-in-the-wall bakery in Yiling.

-----

A low, all too familiar voice hesitantly calls his name. "Wei Ying?"

No fucking way. Wei Ying looks up, raised eyebrows wrinkling his flour-dusted forehead. Yep, that’s Lan Zhan alright; no matter how many years pass, Wei Ying could recognize that face anywhere. His sharp, meticulously perfect appearance makes him look like a high-fashion magazine model cutout slapped on a stock photo of yellowed plaster and secondhand baking equipment.

“No customers in the back,” Wei Ying advises before returning his attention to the dough in his hands. A picture of informality, with a small smirk playing on his lips — a half-hearted attempt to conceal the shock and surmounting panic bubbling in his gut.

How the hell did he find me? one side of his brain despairs, while the other side reassures that at least it isn’t Jiang Cheng.

Lan Zhan continues his stalwart breach of Burial Bakery’s kitchen. What a rebel. “Wei Ying,” he says again.

“That’s me.”

“You’re here.”

“Uh, yeah?”

“You’re in a...bakery. Baking.”

Wei Ying breathed in the calming smell of fresh sourdough and tangy levain. Thank the heavens he had been able to convince Wen Ning to take a lunch break, leaving Wei Ying to man the kitchen alone. This isn’t going to be pretty.

“That’s kinda what we do here, yeah,” he says, eyes trained on his workbench, crowded with floured bannetons and formless lumps of dough. “A helping hand would be nice. I’d appreciate that much more than the gawking.”

Lan Zhan blinks, jawing clenching and ears flushing. Wei Ying’s smirk lifts into something softer. Even after all this time, it’s still so easy to rile him up.

“How’d you even find me, anyway?” he wonders, stretching his dough flat against the workbench, stopping right when it’s about to rip. Gently, of course. Wouldn’t want to pop the gas built up after hours of proofing.

“The back door is open,” Lan Zhan answers faintly. His expression mirrors the face of a guy after finding a years-long missing sock long since chalked off as having been eaten by the dryer. “I saw you from the counter.”

A quick glance to the entrance confirms this. Wen Ning must’ve forgotten to close the door when he left. Damn, that’s no good. Can’t let the cold air flow in. Might mess with the dough proofing in the walk-in.

“Could you close that for me?” Wei Ying asks, briefly letting go of the dough to rub the back of his neck. When Lan Zhan continues to stand there, motionless like a beautiful, bewildered statue, Wei Ying tsks and says, “I’m not going anywhere, Lan Zhan. Gotta get yesterday's proofed loaves in the oven by the hour.”

Miraculously, Lan Zhan obeys. Wei Ying half expected him not to. He and Lan Zhan have never been the closest of friends; Wei Ying was an annoying student, and Lan Zhan has a zero tolerance for annoying classmates. But people can change, he supposes. It’s been over four years, and neither of them are the same people they were before Wei Ying packed up his things and gave up his cushioned life in the Jiang estate and his scholarship to one of the most prestigious universities in the country to start slumming it with the Wen siblings and A-Yuan in their closet of an apartment.

“Aw, thanks,” Wei Ying says when Lan Zhan returns. He belatedly realizes that he should’ve asked Lan Zhan to close the door behind him as he leaves the kitchen that he, as a non-employee, isn’t supposed to be in. Oh well; Wen Qing can chew him out for all the health codes he’s violating later. Isn’t she supposed to be manning the front? Lan Zhan must have snuck past her to get here, so she’s just as guilty.

“So you’ve been here the whole time?” Lan Zhan says, watching Wei Ying shape the dough. “Since you — left?”

“Basically.” Stitch the dough into itself. Then fold and tuck. Push the dough underneath itself with the palm of your hands to create surface tension, giving the newly formed loaf that tight, professional finish. Took Wei Ying ages to get the method down pat enough to be consistent. “Wanted to get out of the Jiangs’ hair, so I left soon after dropping out of uni.”

Dust the loaf with rice flour. Place it into a banneton, seam side up. Into the rack, then repeat. “A friend of mine had just inherited their family bakery. I volunteered to help out, and it eventually ended up becoming a full-time thing.”

Lan Zhan stands there without a word — not that Wei Ying minds. He hadn’t let himself dream they’d see each other again, hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up that he'd be lucky enough to see a familiar face again after all this time. Damn, he thinks, sneaking glance after glance between the loaves he’s shaping, he’s more handsome now than ever. Who knew the gorgeous teenager he’d harassed throughout two years of university would turn out to become a gorgeous adult who somehow stumbles into Wei Ying’s bakery? Even the unflattering cast of the yellow, flickering overhead light Wen Qing had been meaning to replace can’t wash out how black Lan Zhan’s hair is, how his skin is as smooth as a baby’s. How golden his eyes are, peering at Wei Ying as if he’s the sunrise after a long, cloudy night.

Bah. Where the hell did that come from? Maybe Wei Ying really is as self-centered as Aunt Yu claimed him to be.

“I wasn’t aware of your...baking aspirations,” Lan Zhan says, causing Wei Ying to choke out a laugh. He’d forgotten how funny Lan Zhan could be.

“Me neither,” Wei Ying admits. He sidesteps the kitchen mixer he’d spent the last year fixing up — he’d bought it in a sorry state, but Hobart engines are built to last a lifetime, and he couldn’t pass up the deal he paid for — to place another filled banneton into the rack. “But I’m not too mad at where I’ve ended up. Speaking of. How did you end up here?”

Lan Zhan's shoulders hunch suspiciously, and Wei Ying's eyebrows arch into fucking parabolas. “I wanted bread,” Lan Zhan replies defensively. “So I went to a bakery.”

Wei Ying scoffs, unimpressed. “A bakery all the way in Yiling?”

Lan Zhan glances away. “I travel a lot for work.”

Fine — he’ll let it go for now. “Well, as long as you don’t tell anyone back home about this, I guess it’s fine.” Wei Ying pauses. “You’re not gonna rat me out, are you?”

The thought should scare him, but a traitorously large part of him thrills at it instead. The Jiangs' are a key food supplier for the Lans' hotel chain, so Lan Zhan has to have some form of communication with them. Does Jiejie think about him from time to time? And Jiang Cheng...well. They’re still brothers, aren't they? Surely he must, at some small capacity, miss him.

But no brotherly love, whatever left there may be, could erase this: the cold silence that hung over the Jiang family table whenever Wei Ying would show up for dinner. Aunt Yu’s constant disapproval and Jiang Cheng’s wavering willingness to put up with it. The car ride. The screech of metal. The hospital said their Range Rover flipped four times. Wei Ying must have passed out after the first. But he was lucky: only a broken arm and whiplash. He had lied about being too hurt to attend the funeral.

It had been a good decision to leave. It had to be.

The back of his neck stings; a constant reminder. He hangs his head low as he stitches the dough.

“I’m not going to...rat you out,” Lan Zhan denies. He’s closer than he’d been since the last time Wei Ying looked up, his slack-clad hip brushing against the corner of Wei Ying’s workbench. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t. Thanks.” Another banneton in the rack. Slower output than usual. He’s going to have to speed up to reach today’s quota. He gestures to the door. “Now, if you’re not gonna help out…”

Lan Zhan doesn’t take the hint. “You left. Without saying goodbye.”

“Must’ve forgotten to leave a note,” Wei Ying says, nonplussed.

“No one knew where you had gone off to.”

“Kinda preferred it that way.”

“But I didn’t —” Lan Zhan stops. Takes a breath. This is the most emotional Wei Ying has ever seen him, if mildly discomfited could constitute as emotional.

When he meets Wei Ying’s eyes again, his face is in its usual state of aloofness. “I was worried about you,” he tells him. “I wish I had known that you were alright.”

A block of guilt presses on Wei Ying’s shoulders. “Oh,” he says. “Sorry.”

Lan Zhan shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.”

“It’s just — with all that happened with the, the accident, and the handling of the estate —”

“You don’t need to explain anything to me you’re not comfortable with.”

“And my relationship with Jiang Cheng was down the fucking gutter —”

“He misses you.”

“I just felt that it everything would’ve been better off if —”

“I understand.”

“— I just left, y’know?”

At this, Lan Zhan frowns. “I fail to see how your sudden disappearance made anything better,” he says.

“Well, you weren’t there.” Wei Ying sighs, and what little fight he had to defend himself from the past drops to the floor. “I don’t want to argue with you.”

Lan Zhan bristles. “I didn’t mean to — that’s not why I’m here.”

Then why are you here? But Wei Ying is done playing this game. “Look, it’s really nice to see you again. But I kind of have a lot on my plate right now, so if you don’t mind.” This time, his gesture to the door is clear. Leave.

Of course Lan Zhan doesn’t leave; he’s always been so damn stubborn. After a beat, he walks over to the empty sink — Wei Ying prefers to wash the dishes as he goes — and washes his hands. Dries them. Rolls up the sleeves of his button up, revealing forearms Wei Ying can’t help but swallow at. Makes his way to Wei Ying’s side, staring down at the lumps of dough like how a runner glares at the bottom of her shoe after stepping on a pile of dogshit.

“Alright,” he says, “how do I do this?”

Wei Ying blinks. “What?” he asks, like an idiot.

Lan Zhan experimentally cups the nearest dough mound with his palms. It sticks to his hands as he lifts them, streaks of the stuff already clinging to his slender fingers.

“Gross,” he says, monotone, pinching two ends to stretch it; an imitation, Wei Ying realizes, of his own technique.

Wei Ying stares. An incredulous smile spreads across his lips. “You’re —” He laughs. “You’re so weird, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan squints at him, confused, hands still making a mess out of the dough. “You asked for my help.”

Perhaps all those years away from home was enough penance for, at the very least, this. “Yeah," he says, soft. "I guess I did.” Wei Ying sways closer to Lan Zhan’s side. He discreetly sniffs the air in a selfish bid to find...ah, there it is, masked between notes of wheat flour and sourdough starter: sandalwood aftershave, brushing past Wei Ying's nose when Lan Zhan turns to him with an expectant glance.

Wei Ying laughs again. “No, not like that. Like this.”

He lays a floured hand over Lan Zhan’s and, together, they get to work.

-----

also posted on ao3

promo post on twitter

fic commissions

#mdzs #wangxian #cql #the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangji #mdzs fic #cql fic #mo dao zu shi #myfic

[fantasticazioni]

Nel 2014 scrivevo per Finzioni Magazine e mi venne chiesto di preparare un “coccodrillo” per Valerio Evangelisti. Passò molto tempo da allora e per fortuna non fu mai necessario pubblicarlo. Oggi ho scavato nella casella di posta, ritrovando quel file word e riscoprendo passaggi, citazioni, che forse vale poco ma vale mettere qui o da qualche altra parte, anche e soprattutto per chi non conosce Valerio Evangelisti e vuole semplicemente iniziare a leggerlo, a scoprire quanto è stato importante per la letteratura e quanti mondi ha aperto e potrà ancora aprire in noi. 



[…]



Nel 1994 è uscito il suo primo romanzo, "Nicolas Eymerich, inquisitore", vincitore del Premio Urania, che ha dato vita al Ciclo di Eymerich, inquisitore domenicano realmente esistito, nato nel 1320 in Catalogna e protagonista di ben otto romanzi. Del suo personaggio più famoso, Evangelisti azzardò una volta un parallelismo: «Sono scorbutico e asociale. Sono aggressivo, e questo è legato all’asocialità. Ho amplificato tutto questo aspetto della mia anima nel personaggio Eymerich, che rappresenta il peggio di me. Prendi Eymerich, dividilo per dieci e ci trovi me». Spietato, inflessibile, tormentato, perfido ma senza mai essere meschino, l'inquisitore domenicano è stato la figura in cui, romanzo dopo romanzo, Evangelisti ha trasferito tutto se stesso, traslocando nel suo personaggio. 

«Sfuggire alle definizioni era fin dall'inizio il mio obiettivo». Da questa frase si può partire per descrivere la solida parabola letteraria di Valerio Evangelisti. Da qui sboccia e si espande, lucida, senza definizioni, ma compatta, definitiva, perché nessuno come lui negli ultimi decenni ha saputo legare insieme fantasy, fantascienza e horror al rigore della documentazione (la Storia, il suo primo amore), come se la letteratura dovesse avere coscienza di sé e di quello che il mondo ha da raccontare, prima di poter provare a cogliere quello che vuole essere. È così che la parola diventa opposizione al precostituito, volontà di trasformazione della realtà.  

Prima ancora che un acclamato autore di bestseller, Valerio Evangelisti è stato il demiurgo di un immaginario antagonista, capace di andare oltre la letteratura di genere: «Devo dire che il mio obiettivo finale non era tanto, la commistione, quanto l'esplosione». Oltre le contaminazioni, Evangelisti ha dato alla narrativa una nuova, sorprendente vitalità senza aggettivi, dove il fantastico è un'arma tanto potente quanto rara, se impugnata con consapevolezza. Se si utilizza cioè, per addestrarsi all'evasione dei sogni che ci vengono imposti. L'arma della fantascienza è sognare ciò che ci è stato proibito sognare, dall'appiattimento totale e unilaterale della nostra esistenza, dagli schemi che vogliono recintare ogni possibilità di trasformazione per cui nasce, in fondo, la letteratura. Uno dei motivi che stanno alla base della fondazione di Carmilla, la rivista letteraria che ancora oggi continua il suo percorso online. Ecco, c'è un valore politico, nella letteratura di Valerio Evangelisti, c'è la volontà di poter sognare di essere tutto: «Quando si smette di guardare a un futuro diverso non si conquista più niente, perché se chiedi l’oggi ti danno l’oggi e se chiedi il futuro ti danno parte dell’oggi. Il futuro è tuo se hai l’idea che ci sia, un futuro. Appiattirsi sul presente porta a una sconfitta dietro l’altra».

Ci piace chiudere così, con le parole con cui Tiziano Scarpa descriveva Valerio Evangelisti e la sua scrittura, a cui il tempo riserverà, ne siamo sicuri, il sentiero della leggenda: «La sua scrittura è al servizio del racconto, dispone di toni e colori molto vari, ma non è mai gigiona o vanitosa, è solida e sorvegliata, serve per sprigionare suoni e odori e brividi, dibattiti teologici come duelli all'ultimo sangue, metafisiche che fanno a scazzottate, incubi a occhi spalancati. Sembra scritto da sempre, e verrà letto per sempre, come Jules Verne, Emilio Salgari, Agatha Christie, Isaac Asimov».

#valerio evangelisti #finzioni magazine #tiziano scarpa