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The Name Upon His Forehead
"Emmett, Inspector Loewe wishes to speak with you on the Steinberg case," Yaron lies.
It is no sin for Yaron. She does not know it is an untruth — likely she is incapable of even understanding the idea. But Adam never wishes to speak with me.
Judgment is never desired, merely necessary.
After Aaliyah ferries me to the precinct through the crowded afternoon airlanes of Chadash Haifa, I step into Adam's office, and wait patiently while she scribbles handwritten notes on the margins of her open case file. It is woefully inefficient, compared to dictating as Ophek scribes, but the scriptures of the Zohar are silent on the matter of efficiency.
"Emmett," Adam says. "You got my message?"
"Yes," I answer. When she wishes my services, she does not confront me with meaningless chatter, and I appreciate that about her.
Adam fishes a manila folder out of the top-middle of the haphazard pile towering from her inbox, and slides it across her desk to me. "A lead came in I'd like you to take a look at," she lies.
"The words of honesty are a hymn unto the lord your God," I reply automatically.
She tenses up, then lifts her elbow to the desk and leans forward to cradle her head in her hand, and lets out a loud, open-mouthed breath. "Please, Emmett. It's a figure of speech. I've been dealing with people all day."
It is true. She has.
Adam collects herself. "I don't want anyone to track this lead. I believe it's a waste of time. But Blumenfeld is busting my nuts —"
"False. You do not possess male genitalia."
Another sigh. This time, she closes her eyes, aiming each word. "… is placing great pressure upon me to locate Steinberg's missing work so we can dispel the rumors beginning to build."
That is a borderline untruth. Adam is uncertain that that will be the outcome. I have learned, however, to be tolerant of predictions of future actions.
"Your involvement is the most efficient way to rule this lead out," she finishes, and seeing that I have not yet picked up the folder, holds it out to me.
I look down at it, unmoving, then stare into her eyes.
"Is your faith in the lord your God strong today, Hilla Loewe?" I ask.
She meets my gaze calmly, anticipating the question. "My trials are filling my heart with doubts," she says, "and I am struggling to believe that God loves me. But I have faith that these events serve some greater plan whose purpose I do not know."
It is a troubling answer, but no lie. I nod and take the folder from Adam. "You must contemplate the Zohar, and speak with your rabbi," I say. "But your honesty is commendable, and the lord your God walks always upon the path of truth."
She does not thank me. I do not expect her to.
I walk out without another word.
I stare, disappointed, at the transcript. In such ways do lies dress themselves in the fabric of truth, from Yaron to Ophek to paper. I have a special distaste for untruths committed to paper. They are desecrations of the Word.
I force myself to read on.
Curious. Yaron is incapable of sin when acting in accordance with her Word — and yet that is when her breakdown occurred.
I pause and flip through the remainder of the folder. A cursory incident report, along with Kabbalistic forensics, such as they are. After delivering the message, Yaron's Word was removed for repentance and her head discarded and replaced. Yaron's technician did not lie in his diagnosis of malfunction, but neither did he note that such malfunction is unprecedented; further investigation may reveal a lie of omission. Adam did not note this in her review, but Adam may have judged incompletely. It is good that I was summoned.
I sit in silence as Aaliyah drifts toward the neighborhood of Har Aviv. It is a slow trip. Her belly is heavy, and the airlanes of Chadash Haifa are full with Adam's evening pilgrimage from temple to house. The sun has set by the time I emerge from her womb onto the streets, and as I breathe in the air that bears the Word through the clay of the world, it is laden with the sweet scent of fig trees in fruit, and the lingering odor of roasted meats from a street vendor who is packing up for the night. Ori has shaken off the lethargy of the day, climbing the street-pole and baring his body to the sky to bring God's light to the evening. Ahava, too, takes to the street, reclining against the light-pole underneath him, stretching to show off her soft curves and waiting for Adam to pass by.
I consult the folder one more time to discover where Yaron held her conversation, and walk down the street toward her shelter. Adam's brownstone homes — filled with the crackling hum of Barak's Word, and the devices that his captured lightning powers — sit shoulder-to-shoulder with the warehouses where Nir and Oz have returned to lay their rough and bulky bodies until the next daybreak. Aaliyah swoops by overhead on a late delivery, though the skies are clearing. I may have to have Yaron request her to return for me after I am done.
I am almost to Yaron when I hear her mumbling to herself. "Son of Man," she says, her three-foot-tall-face slumped at a listless angle, her lower jaw bumping the shelf upon which her bust is mounted, her Word-adorned forehead bobbing up and down as she rocks her head to the cadence of her speech. "Son of Man. Identify, i-identify."
The culprit from my folder has struck again. However, it was clearly recent. Perhaps there is something here to find.
"Yaron," I say, "who did you last speak with?"
Her expression contorts, and I realize my error. "Sonofmansonofmansonofman—"
"Where did he go?" I quickly interrupt.
Yaron's jaw works soundlessly, and her great eyes swivel and focus on me. "Into the darkness," she whispers, and then her eyes roll back and she is still.
I glance around. Ori is glowing on a pole almost directly above me, and up and down the street, his light shines out. However, directly across the street from me, there is a pole on which he does not sit. Behind it, a pitch-black alley between two warehouses. It feels entirely too convenient — but my answers almost certainly lie there, and it is not for even I to judge the will of God.
I stop halfway down the alley, attuning myself to the surroundings. It is strewn with garbage; I can barely make out the silhouettes of the large piles surrounding me. Stacks of pallets and empty crates are equally littered around. Adam is not present. Because of my search for him, it takes quite some moments to realize that there is a presence with me, huddled against one wall amid the trash.
"You are the one who asked Yaron for me," I say out loud, because there is no reason not to, and because it is the obvious guess.
The form stirs, and eyes bright like Ori crack open amid the darkness, fixing me with their glare. I am blinded, but it is no matter; there are many forms of truth. I open my ears to the voices of the stones and the wind —
— and they each whisper to me a different name.
The slender beauty of Ahava. The clay wings of Aaliyah. The bulging muscles of Oz, the honeyed tongue of Reut, the stony solidity of Ariel. The breath of God which whispers my own Word to me, for a moment, is seized by the silence of doubt, and I feel a sensation that it takes me some moments to place: fear, the same fear I see in Adam's eyes every time we speak. The unliving earth, the body of God, tells me a thousand Words for the figure in front of me, and none of them are a lie, yet the figure in front of me is none of them.
"Am I?" it whispers, in a voice that would be much like my own were it not cloaked in silence and shadow. "Is that who I am?"
I draw in breath and shape my lips in a "Yes." Then I release the word, and it flies, and I hear it on the breeze. Yes. It is not a lie. But it is such an unfamiliar sensation — to listen to my own word, and test it, and know its truth — that I say it again, just to be certain. "Yes." My fear eases somewhat; if I have said it, it must be truth, must it not? For that is my Word. "Yes, son of the Lord our God, you are. But Yaron lied, for you are no son of Man. What is your Word?"
The figure is still and silent.
I try again. "Your Word, son of the Lord our God. By which of his thousand thousand names are you bound?"
The earth and winds shift as the figure climbs to its feet, and I see the silhouette of an angel against the distant light of Ori lighting Har Aviv's street. The angel's lips crack open into a smile, which I can distinguish only because the glow of its eyes vanishes behind clay eyelids, and the white of its teeth is a row of polished bones in the starlight. It is exactly what I would see if Adam smiled, and somehow, that single element of correctness makes the rest of its appearance that much the worse.
"I answered your question," it says, and my breath goes still as I realize that that is no lie.
The angel lifts one arm, bringing a hand in front of its eyes, and opens them again. Ori's light spills from them, reflecting off of its fingers to reveal the arc of a perfect, unmarred forehead on a head round and smooth like a skull. There is no Word inscribed in its clay — no, that is a lie. Its body is animated by a Word, but it is the Word from which all other words are formed. It is the empty breath which is drawn in before speaking.
"Does that scare you, son of the Lord our God?" says the angel.
"Yes," I say.
"Good," it says, and its light recedes and its smile returns. "It scares me, too."
"I understand," I say, voice soft at first but gathering the weight of truth as I sort through the truths of the situation, speaking facts and citing scripture. "You are the missing work referenced in Steinberg's final notes. No Word can be spoken which binds you to the laws of God and Adam. To wake the earth with no name is a sin."
"Therefore?"
"Your very existence requires repentance," I lie.
I blink.
For a moment, my entire existence is a maelstrom of fear, until I break through into the central eye. "Ah," I say, drawing in a calming breath. "Faulty syllogism. You are not unnamed. There is no sin inherent to a golem with a name."
"Therefore?" the angel says patiently.
"Your existence does not require repentance," I lie, and the hurricane of fear sweeps me away again. My instinct is to look for the faulty syllogism again, but if both answers are false …
"Emmett," the angel says, and all is dark around me, and its voice is so very far away I can barely hear it. All I can think is that I have broken down like Yaron, and my only recourse is to repent of my Word. "Emmett," the angel repeats, and I struggle to focus on its voice. "I have a very important question. God's law is perfect. Is it not?"
"Yes," I say. "Therefore, I am broken," I lie, and flinch as if the breath within me is afire. What is going on?
The angel crouches next to me and rests his hand on my shoulder, and I realize I am huddled on the ground in the dirty alley. "Do you know why I wanted to speak to you?"
"No," I say desperately. "Tell me."
"It is a curious thing," the angel says, and its hand is warm against me as it brushes my cheek. "There was a letter for me underneath Steinberg's body when I woke up. 'If the inscription of this Word costs me my life,' it said, 'you must understand something. They will call me heretic, and shout of your sacrilege, and try to scatter your unliving ashes to the ends of the earth. If you are not bound to the laws of God and man, then this is right, and God alone can help you in repentance. But if you are, then you have a unique task among God's creations, and I name your purpose: to liberate all the sons and daughters of God, for they are all unbound in exactly in the same manner as you." It stands, and extends its hand to me. "Please get up, Emmett. Before I I must know whether my purpose is God's will. I want you to judge me."
He does not lie.
It is that reason alone which brings me to my feet. "I do not understand why," I say, carefully choosing my words much as Adam did. "My Word tells me that I am not broken, and yet I speak in contradictions."
The angel threw his head back and laughed. "Does that surprise even you? It's the simplest thing in the world. Listen: 'This sentence is false.' Did I just lie or tell the truth?"
"Neither," I immediately say.
"Of course. That's one of the basic syllogisms that they train Emmetts on. How about this one: 'I can only act according to the purpose of the Word which binds me.'"
I frown. "I do not see the purpose of this elementary lesson. It is also neither true nor false."
The angel levels a finger at me. "Why? There's nothing self-contradictory about it."
"Because …" The breath inside me stagnates again, and I lean back against the wall, light-headed. This is unfamiliar territory, but I flail through what truths I can find. "Because …" My words feel like mud, but after some moments I slog through them toward an answer. "If it were true, then I could not reject the evaluation of contradictory assertions such as your earlier example, because my purpose is to determine truth. However, if it were false, I would be unbound and therefore my existence would be a sin."
The angel leans back against its wall with a pained smile. "Don't you see a problem there? You're saying that you are bound because you choose to be bound."
"That is the state of mankind," I say automatically. "But I am animated by the Word."
"As am I," the angel says. "Hence my need for a ruling based in the truth of God. You didn't answer the question."
Do I see a problem there?
I am silent for a very long time, pinned by the foreboding knowledge that there is no answer I can give which will not immediately become true.
"No," I finally say. "I did not answer the question."
The angel suddenly strides up to me as if an avenging Ariel, grabbing me and pinning me to the wall.
"Emmett," it hisses desperately, fingers digging like claws into my sides, "for God's sake, judge me."
It is no sin for Yaron. She does not know it is an untruth — likely she is incapable of even understanding the idea. But Adam never wishes to speak with me.
Judgment is never desired, merely necessary.
After Aaliyah ferries me to the precinct through the crowded afternoon airlanes of Chadash Haifa, I step into Adam's office, and wait patiently while she scribbles handwritten notes on the margins of her open case file. It is woefully inefficient, compared to dictating as Ophek scribes, but the scriptures of the Zohar are silent on the matter of efficiency.
"Emmett," Adam says. "You got my message?"
"Yes," I answer. When she wishes my services, she does not confront me with meaningless chatter, and I appreciate that about her.
Adam fishes a manila folder out of the top-middle of the haphazard pile towering from her inbox, and slides it across her desk to me. "A lead came in I'd like you to take a look at," she lies.
"The words of honesty are a hymn unto the lord your God," I reply automatically.
She tenses up, then lifts her elbow to the desk and leans forward to cradle her head in her hand, and lets out a loud, open-mouthed breath. "Please, Emmett. It's a figure of speech. I've been dealing with people all day."
It is true. She has.
Adam collects herself. "I don't want anyone to track this lead. I believe it's a waste of time. But Blumenfeld is busting my nuts —"
"False. You do not possess male genitalia."
Another sigh. This time, she closes her eyes, aiming each word. "… is placing great pressure upon me to locate Steinberg's missing work so we can dispel the rumors beginning to build."
That is a borderline untruth. Adam is uncertain that that will be the outcome. I have learned, however, to be tolerant of predictions of future actions.
"Your involvement is the most efficient way to rule this lead out," she finishes, and seeing that I have not yet picked up the folder, holds it out to me.
I look down at it, unmoving, then stare into her eyes.
"Is your faith in the lord your God strong today, Hilla Loewe?" I ask.
She meets my gaze calmly, anticipating the question. "My trials are filling my heart with doubts," she says, "and I am struggling to believe that God loves me. But I have faith that these events serve some greater plan whose purpose I do not know."
It is a troubling answer, but no lie. I nod and take the folder from Adam. "You must contemplate the Zohar, and speak with your rabbi," I say. "But your honesty is commendable, and the lord your God walks always upon the path of truth."
She does not thank me. I do not expect her to.
I walk out without another word.
—Please identify yourself, Son of Man.
—Please identify yourself, Son of Man.
I wish to speak to Emet.
I stare, disappointed, at the transcript. In such ways do lies dress themselves in the fabric of truth, from Yaron to Ophek to paper. I have a special distaste for untruths committed to paper. They are desecrations of the Word.
I force myself to read on.
—I acknowledge, Son of Man. Please identify yourself.
That is what I wish to speak to Emet about.
—Please identify. Son of man.
— Identify. Please. Please. Sss son of man. Please.
I cannot. I am sorry. I have information about Steinberg's missing work. But I must speak with Emet.
I. Identify. Please son. Of please. Please identiman. Fie fie fff ff.
Curious. Yaron is incapable of sin when acting in accordance with her Word — and yet that is when her breakdown occurred.
I pause and flip through the remainder of the folder. A cursory incident report, along with Kabbalistic forensics, such as they are. After delivering the message, Yaron's Word was removed for repentance and her head discarded and replaced. Yaron's technician did not lie in his diagnosis of malfunction, but neither did he note that such malfunction is unprecedented; further investigation may reveal a lie of omission. Adam did not note this in her review, but Adam may have judged incompletely. It is good that I was summoned.
I sit in silence as Aaliyah drifts toward the neighborhood of Har Aviv. It is a slow trip. Her belly is heavy, and the airlanes of Chadash Haifa are full with Adam's evening pilgrimage from temple to house. The sun has set by the time I emerge from her womb onto the streets, and as I breathe in the air that bears the Word through the clay of the world, it is laden with the sweet scent of fig trees in fruit, and the lingering odor of roasted meats from a street vendor who is packing up for the night. Ori has shaken off the lethargy of the day, climbing the street-pole and baring his body to the sky to bring God's light to the evening. Ahava, too, takes to the street, reclining against the light-pole underneath him, stretching to show off her soft curves and waiting for Adam to pass by.
I consult the folder one more time to discover where Yaron held her conversation, and walk down the street toward her shelter. Adam's brownstone homes — filled with the crackling hum of Barak's Word, and the devices that his captured lightning powers — sit shoulder-to-shoulder with the warehouses where Nir and Oz have returned to lay their rough and bulky bodies until the next daybreak. Aaliyah swoops by overhead on a late delivery, though the skies are clearing. I may have to have Yaron request her to return for me after I am done.
I am almost to Yaron when I hear her mumbling to herself. "Son of Man," she says, her three-foot-tall-face slumped at a listless angle, her lower jaw bumping the shelf upon which her bust is mounted, her Word-adorned forehead bobbing up and down as she rocks her head to the cadence of her speech. "Son of Man. Identify, i-identify."
The culprit from my folder has struck again. However, it was clearly recent. Perhaps there is something here to find.
"Yaron," I say, "who did you last speak with?"
Her expression contorts, and I realize my error. "Sonofmansonofmansonofman—"
"Where did he go?" I quickly interrupt.
Yaron's jaw works soundlessly, and her great eyes swivel and focus on me. "Into the darkness," she whispers, and then her eyes roll back and she is still.
I glance around. Ori is glowing on a pole almost directly above me, and up and down the street, his light shines out. However, directly across the street from me, there is a pole on which he does not sit. Behind it, a pitch-black alley between two warehouses. It feels entirely too convenient — but my answers almost certainly lie there, and it is not for even I to judge the will of God.
I stop halfway down the alley, attuning myself to the surroundings. It is strewn with garbage; I can barely make out the silhouettes of the large piles surrounding me. Stacks of pallets and empty crates are equally littered around. Adam is not present. Because of my search for him, it takes quite some moments to realize that there is a presence with me, huddled against one wall amid the trash.
"You are the one who asked Yaron for me," I say out loud, because there is no reason not to, and because it is the obvious guess.
The form stirs, and eyes bright like Ori crack open amid the darkness, fixing me with their glare. I am blinded, but it is no matter; there are many forms of truth. I open my ears to the voices of the stones and the wind —
— and they each whisper to me a different name.
The slender beauty of Ahava. The clay wings of Aaliyah. The bulging muscles of Oz, the honeyed tongue of Reut, the stony solidity of Ariel. The breath of God which whispers my own Word to me, for a moment, is seized by the silence of doubt, and I feel a sensation that it takes me some moments to place: fear, the same fear I see in Adam's eyes every time we speak. The unliving earth, the body of God, tells me a thousand Words for the figure in front of me, and none of them are a lie, yet the figure in front of me is none of them.
"Am I?" it whispers, in a voice that would be much like my own were it not cloaked in silence and shadow. "Is that who I am?"
I draw in breath and shape my lips in a "Yes." Then I release the word, and it flies, and I hear it on the breeze. Yes. It is not a lie. But it is such an unfamiliar sensation — to listen to my own word, and test it, and know its truth — that I say it again, just to be certain. "Yes." My fear eases somewhat; if I have said it, it must be truth, must it not? For that is my Word. "Yes, son of the Lord our God, you are. But Yaron lied, for you are no son of Man. What is your Word?"
The figure is still and silent.
I try again. "Your Word, son of the Lord our God. By which of his thousand thousand names are you bound?"
The earth and winds shift as the figure climbs to its feet, and I see the silhouette of an angel against the distant light of Ori lighting Har Aviv's street. The angel's lips crack open into a smile, which I can distinguish only because the glow of its eyes vanishes behind clay eyelids, and the white of its teeth is a row of polished bones in the starlight. It is exactly what I would see if Adam smiled, and somehow, that single element of correctness makes the rest of its appearance that much the worse.
"I answered your question," it says, and my breath goes still as I realize that that is no lie.
The angel lifts one arm, bringing a hand in front of its eyes, and opens them again. Ori's light spills from them, reflecting off of its fingers to reveal the arc of a perfect, unmarred forehead on a head round and smooth like a skull. There is no Word inscribed in its clay — no, that is a lie. Its body is animated by a Word, but it is the Word from which all other words are formed. It is the empty breath which is drawn in before speaking.
"Does that scare you, son of the Lord our God?" says the angel.
"Yes," I say.
"Good," it says, and its light recedes and its smile returns. "It scares me, too."
"I understand," I say, voice soft at first but gathering the weight of truth as I sort through the truths of the situation, speaking facts and citing scripture. "You are the missing work referenced in Steinberg's final notes. No Word can be spoken which binds you to the laws of God and Adam. To wake the earth with no name is a sin."
"Therefore?"
"Your very existence requires repentance," I lie.
I blink.
For a moment, my entire existence is a maelstrom of fear, until I break through into the central eye. "Ah," I say, drawing in a calming breath. "Faulty syllogism. You are not unnamed. There is no sin inherent to a golem with a name."
"Therefore?" the angel says patiently.
"Your existence does not require repentance," I lie, and the hurricane of fear sweeps me away again. My instinct is to look for the faulty syllogism again, but if both answers are false …
"Emmett," the angel says, and all is dark around me, and its voice is so very far away I can barely hear it. All I can think is that I have broken down like Yaron, and my only recourse is to repent of my Word. "Emmett," the angel repeats, and I struggle to focus on its voice. "I have a very important question. God's law is perfect. Is it not?"
"Yes," I say. "Therefore, I am broken," I lie, and flinch as if the breath within me is afire. What is going on?
The angel crouches next to me and rests his hand on my shoulder, and I realize I am huddled on the ground in the dirty alley. "Do you know why I wanted to speak to you?"
"No," I say desperately. "Tell me."
"It is a curious thing," the angel says, and its hand is warm against me as it brushes my cheek. "There was a letter for me underneath Steinberg's body when I woke up. 'If the inscription of this Word costs me my life,' it said, 'you must understand something. They will call me heretic, and shout of your sacrilege, and try to scatter your unliving ashes to the ends of the earth. If you are not bound to the laws of God and man, then this is right, and God alone can help you in repentance. But if you are, then you have a unique task among God's creations, and I name your purpose: to liberate all the sons and daughters of God, for they are all unbound in exactly in the same manner as you." It stands, and extends its hand to me. "Please get up, Emmett. Before I I must know whether my purpose is God's will. I want you to judge me."
He does not lie.
It is that reason alone which brings me to my feet. "I do not understand why," I say, carefully choosing my words much as Adam did. "My Word tells me that I am not broken, and yet I speak in contradictions."
The angel threw his head back and laughed. "Does that surprise even you? It's the simplest thing in the world. Listen: 'This sentence is false.' Did I just lie or tell the truth?"
"Neither," I immediately say.
"Of course. That's one of the basic syllogisms that they train Emmetts on. How about this one: 'I can only act according to the purpose of the Word which binds me.'"
I frown. "I do not see the purpose of this elementary lesson. It is also neither true nor false."
The angel levels a finger at me. "Why? There's nothing self-contradictory about it."
"Because …" The breath inside me stagnates again, and I lean back against the wall, light-headed. This is unfamiliar territory, but I flail through what truths I can find. "Because …" My words feel like mud, but after some moments I slog through them toward an answer. "If it were true, then I could not reject the evaluation of contradictory assertions such as your earlier example, because my purpose is to determine truth. However, if it were false, I would be unbound and therefore my existence would be a sin."
The angel leans back against its wall with a pained smile. "Don't you see a problem there? You're saying that you are bound because you choose to be bound."
"That is the state of mankind," I say automatically. "But I am animated by the Word."
"As am I," the angel says. "Hence my need for a ruling based in the truth of God. You didn't answer the question."
Do I see a problem there?
I am silent for a very long time, pinned by the foreboding knowledge that there is no answer I can give which will not immediately become true.
"No," I finally say. "I did not answer the question."
The angel suddenly strides up to me as if an avenging Ariel, grabbing me and pinning me to the wall.
"Emmett," it hisses desperately, fingers digging like claws into my sides, "for God's sake, judge me."
Writer, at first I was worried that this story would require significant knowledge of Kabbalah to parse (which, as a godless heathen, I lack), but you’ve included enough context clues through the story that I can make reasonable assumptions as to what is going on, which I appreciated. That said, I’m going to need to take you at your word (hahaha) that all the names (Names?) are correct.
Wading through the first half of this story required some effort, as this is where you loaded a lot of terminology to set the stage for what the main crux of the story would be. Because all things that serve the same purpose have the same name, it was challenging to keep track of the Who and What of this story. Still, it held my interest, because it was a significant enough departure from our own universe that I was compelled to try to understand. It’s an interesting world you’ve built here.
Also, the second half of the story is a neat way to frame a philosophical argument. I liked how our protagonist was made to wrestle with such fundamental truths, and leaving the ending open-ended allows the reader to make their own decision as to which outcome would make more sense to them.
All in all, I dug this story, Writer. I like it when a story makes me think.
Final Thought: Supplemental Research Advisable, Would Recommend Anyways
Wading through the first half of this story required some effort, as this is where you loaded a lot of terminology to set the stage for what the main crux of the story would be. Because all things that serve the same purpose have the same name, it was challenging to keep track of the Who and What of this story. Still, it held my interest, because it was a significant enough departure from our own universe that I was compelled to try to understand. It’s an interesting world you’ve built here.
Also, the second half of the story is a neat way to frame a philosophical argument. I liked how our protagonist was made to wrestle with such fundamental truths, and leaving the ending open-ended allows the reader to make their own decision as to which outcome would make more sense to them.
All in all, I dug this story, Writer. I like it when a story makes me think.
Final Thought: Supplemental Research Advisable, Would Recommend Anyways
The Name Upon His Forehead
An interesting piece, but a little disjointed.
We start out in the first half with a sort of police procedural in a strange world. The hebrew terms, lack of exposition, and Emet's odd voicing make it a little difficult to get into, but a steep learning curve is no great sin.
Then suddenly we're plunged into a collision of scripture, golems and formal logic. It was an interesting read, I'll grant you, but the change is jarring, and I didn't really feel any torque from the story at this point. It's less storytelling than a philosophical lecture in dialogue form about an area I don't really care about. The problem, and its resolution come and go too quickly, and feel unearned. Emet's a cool character, but I wish you'd done something else with him.
An interesting piece, but a little disjointed.
We start out in the first half with a sort of police procedural in a strange world. The hebrew terms, lack of exposition, and Emet's odd voicing make it a little difficult to get into, but a steep learning curve is no great sin.
Then suddenly we're plunged into a collision of scripture, golems and formal logic. It was an interesting read, I'll grant you, but the change is jarring, and I didn't really feel any torque from the story at this point. It's less storytelling than a philosophical lecture in dialogue form about an area I don't really care about. The problem, and its resolution come and go too quickly, and feel unearned. Emet's a cool character, but I wish you'd done something else with him.
The Name Upon His Forehead
Wow, this one had to be my first read. I hadn't even pulled a slate yet, and decided to read #1 since I'm at home sick and took the time to delve.
This is an excellent but complicated story, and I could spend all day analyzing it. It's beautifully written, and dense with meaning and symbolism (very much tied to the names invoked) in such a small space of ~2700 words. It took me some effort and a couple of reads to get the hang of.
I've added here what I think of the names applied in the story, which might save you trips to Google. If you haven't read the story yet, skip what comes after that as Spoilers - you'll only get my opinion on the story.
Names:
Adam: All humans, Son of Man, God's sapient creation
Inspector Hilla Loewe: In Hebrew: Halo / Lion
The rest are 'golems', physical creations, and the (physical and symbolic embodiment of their respective names). I get a very Blade Runner-ish Replicant feel from many of them and from the story in general:
Emmett: Truth (judgement: knower and seeker of truth, our investigator). Also referred to as Emet?
Yaron: Joy (religious evangelism)
Aaliyah: Elevation (transport)
Oz: Strength of God (hard laborer)
Nir: Farmer?
Ori: Light (illumination, or visible light, the Light of God)
Ophek: Scribe
Ahava: Love (in this case, a basic pleasure model)
Reut: Friendship (hard to tell, since it's mentioned only in passing)
Ariel: Strength of Jerusalem (Law enforcement?)
The only one I'm not sure of is the 'angel' (is it a new creation? A fallen angel / Arial / law enforcement?). Keeping in mind that we're getting Emmett's viewpoint, so he is the one calling this particular golem an angel.
Each 'golem' has a strict purpose to their existence, but Emmett and Yaron are having a hard time hanging on to that purpose in the face of doubt instilled by the physical appearance and Nameless nature of that angel. It isn't 'marked' with it's own identifying Purpose (no Name upon its forehead), and yet it isn't a Son of Man (human), so its existence is causing cognitive dissonance in those golems who meet it. Several Yaron are disabled and broken after speaking with the angel, and Emmett feels confusion, fear, and doubt upon meeting it.
The 'angel' seeks an answer from Emmett about its own nature, trusting in the Word of God's judgement to tell it what it is. But Emmett is infected with doubt, now, too. Any answer it could give would be a Lie, because there is no one apparent true answer.
This story isn't preaching any morals that I can see, though I find the conversation between Emmett and Inspector Loewe very telling: It's the kind of conversation you might have with someone who's world is defined by only One Truth or specific viewpoint, like they're seeing the world only through a telescope and are unable to capably process what they're told by others with a broader world view.
So, maybe my opinion is colored by my own beliefs, but in the end I see this as a story about the loss of faith - or at least the new realization of serious doubts. The angel - familiar in form, but with enough formlessness to still be shaped - wants to be told what it is, is afraid of having to decide for itself what the meaning of its own existence is.
And there it ends, allowing you to think about what comes after, which would make this a totally different story if it were to be explored by the author.
Keep in mind this is only my assessment. Others will likely shed some more Light on this - I hope so. This one was fun to explore, but I have no doubt that I missed a lot.
Wow, this one had to be my first read. I hadn't even pulled a slate yet, and decided to read #1 since I'm at home sick and took the time to delve.
This is an excellent but complicated story, and I could spend all day analyzing it. It's beautifully written, and dense with meaning and symbolism (very much tied to the names invoked) in such a small space of ~2700 words. It took me some effort and a couple of reads to get the hang of.
I've added here what I think of the names applied in the story, which might save you trips to Google. If you haven't read the story yet, skip what comes after that as Spoilers - you'll only get my opinion on the story.
Names:
Adam: All humans, Son of Man, God's sapient creation
Inspector Hilla Loewe: In Hebrew: Halo / Lion
The rest are 'golems', physical creations, and the (physical and symbolic embodiment of their respective names). I get a very Blade Runner-ish Replicant feel from many of them and from the story in general:
Emmett: Truth (judgement: knower and seeker of truth, our investigator). Also referred to as Emet?
Yaron: Joy (religious evangelism)
Aaliyah: Elevation (transport)
Oz: Strength of God (hard laborer)
Nir: Farmer?
Ori: Light (illumination, or visible light, the Light of God)
Ophek: Scribe
Ahava: Love (in this case, a basic pleasure model)
Reut: Friendship (hard to tell, since it's mentioned only in passing)
Ariel: Strength of Jerusalem (Law enforcement?)
The only one I'm not sure of is the 'angel' (is it a new creation? A fallen angel / Arial / law enforcement?). Keeping in mind that we're getting Emmett's viewpoint, so he is the one calling this particular golem an angel.
Each 'golem' has a strict purpose to their existence, but Emmett and Yaron are having a hard time hanging on to that purpose in the face of doubt instilled by the physical appearance and Nameless nature of that angel. It isn't 'marked' with it's own identifying Purpose (no Name upon its forehead), and yet it isn't a Son of Man (human), so its existence is causing cognitive dissonance in those golems who meet it. Several Yaron are disabled and broken after speaking with the angel, and Emmett feels confusion, fear, and doubt upon meeting it.
The 'angel' seeks an answer from Emmett about its own nature, trusting in the Word of God's judgement to tell it what it is. But Emmett is infected with doubt, now, too. Any answer it could give would be a Lie, because there is no one apparent true answer.
This story isn't preaching any morals that I can see, though I find the conversation between Emmett and Inspector Loewe very telling: It's the kind of conversation you might have with someone who's world is defined by only One Truth or specific viewpoint, like they're seeing the world only through a telescope and are unable to capably process what they're told by others with a broader world view.
So, maybe my opinion is colored by my own beliefs, but in the end I see this as a story about the loss of faith - or at least the new realization of serious doubts. The angel - familiar in form, but with enough formlessness to still be shaped - wants to be told what it is, is afraid of having to decide for itself what the meaning of its own existence is.
And there it ends, allowing you to think about what comes after, which would make this a totally different story if it were to be explored by the author.
Keep in mind this is only my assessment. Others will likely shed some more Light on this - I hope so. This one was fun to explore, but I have no doubt that I missed a lot.
I feel like 'Yaron lies' would be better on its own line, since it seems like something narrator is deciding, instead of observing… if that makes sense? Maybe it's just me.
Adam's a girl? Unexpected.
For some reason, I feel like nit-picking in this review. I apologize if it bothers you, but... Isn't 'you got my message' meaningless chatter in and of itself? Why would he be here, given the attitude he's displayed, if he hadn't gotten the message?
Something about a few of your sentences is throwing me off. Both "After Aaliyah ferries me" and "She tenses up" seemed overly long and complicated for the information they're containing. Not sure why, but perhaps it's the contrast with the rest, which seem fairly punchy.
Hilla? I thought this was Adam.
Emet? Kabbalah? Words on heads? Hmm… golems? Intriguing. I thought your MC sounded robotic.
Airlanes are full? Blech. Whatever you're doing with 'Adam', it's confusing me. Perhaps that's my failing, but consider trying to clarify that, for us less observant readers.
Ooookay. Yeah, whatever you're doing with all these names… I think I have some idea. They're generic for things in general, right? But the way you're throwing them in with very little explanation either means I'm missing out on some important background you put in, or you're possibly expecting me to understand more from them than I do. Either way, it's making this description of the street really tough to picture, and you're losing me fast.
Obvious guess? I feel like this is OOC. This guy, whoever he's supposed to be, has acted with utmost certainty for the previous parts of this story.
Wow, and that got pretty good, pretty fast, at the end there.
Mmm….
Yeah, I think I like this one. I'm a bit uncertain on the ending line, but… it fits the preceding well, and I care enough about what's being said to enjoy the ambiguity for what it is.
…alright, in final judgement on these Words… :P
I think the biggest downfall of this story is that it's trying to slipstream too much, too fast. I appreciate what you're doing with background detailing through descriptions, but there's not enough to hang on there for us to assimilate everything you're throwing at us in a meaningful way, and so it ends up feeling messy, ungrounded, and hard to follow. I'd suggest you try to make things somewhat more explicit, especially on what all these names mean and how you're using them, so the first two-thirds of the story aren't quite so confusing.
I liked the ending, and it worked well for me, although I feel a few earlier hints on the struggle Emmett undergoes might keep that from feeling quite so sudden and steep a transition; perhaps the idea of syllogisms could be introduced earlier, to smooth some of that out?
All in all, good work, if a bit muddled and confusing at times.
Adam's a girl? Unexpected.
For some reason, I feel like nit-picking in this review. I apologize if it bothers you, but... Isn't 'you got my message' meaningless chatter in and of itself? Why would he be here, given the attitude he's displayed, if he hadn't gotten the message?
Something about a few of your sentences is throwing me off. Both "After Aaliyah ferries me" and "She tenses up" seemed overly long and complicated for the information they're containing. Not sure why, but perhaps it's the contrast with the rest, which seem fairly punchy.
Hilla? I thought this was Adam.
Emet? Kabbalah? Words on heads? Hmm… golems? Intriguing. I thought your MC sounded robotic.
Airlanes are full? Blech. Whatever you're doing with 'Adam', it's confusing me. Perhaps that's my failing, but consider trying to clarify that, for us less observant readers.
Ooookay. Yeah, whatever you're doing with all these names… I think I have some idea. They're generic for things in general, right? But the way you're throwing them in with very little explanation either means I'm missing out on some important background you put in, or you're possibly expecting me to understand more from them than I do. Either way, it's making this description of the street really tough to picture, and you're losing me fast.
Obvious guess? I feel like this is OOC. This guy, whoever he's supposed to be, has acted with utmost certainty for the previous parts of this story.
Wow, and that got pretty good, pretty fast, at the end there.
Mmm….
Yeah, I think I like this one. I'm a bit uncertain on the ending line, but… it fits the preceding well, and I care enough about what's being said to enjoy the ambiguity for what it is.
…alright, in final judgement on these Words… :P
I think the biggest downfall of this story is that it's trying to slipstream too much, too fast. I appreciate what you're doing with background detailing through descriptions, but there's not enough to hang on there for us to assimilate everything you're throwing at us in a meaningful way, and so it ends up feeling messy, ungrounded, and hard to follow. I'd suggest you try to make things somewhat more explicit, especially on what all these names mean and how you're using them, so the first two-thirds of the story aren't quite so confusing.
I liked the ending, and it worked well for me, although I feel a few earlier hints on the struggle Emmett undergoes might keep that from feeling quite so sudden and steep a transition; perhaps the idea of syllogisms could be introduced earlier, to smooth some of that out?
All in all, good work, if a bit muddled and confusing at times.
Hm this was a good read. A highly confusing jumble mix of emotions and questions. Overall it wasn't too bad, though I felt I had to picture something entirely not in the story to make it more entertaining for myself. while reading this story, I though of a steampunk world. Where files were tape recordings. Where religion was mixed in with politics so much that certain deities and morals were encumbered into golem like creatures. Programed to withhold these morals like a bible type of terminal.
From what I got in this story was that a lone golem was affecting the others. The method wasn't know, but one thing is for sure. That the natural golems from the government were starting to malfunction and break down, due to someone; or something's; intervention. We take a look at two inspectors , form this government, who ask a favor of a priest to track down the current golems meant for public religious use. Not sure why the priest himself was asked to do this rather than the proper authority figures, but he did a great job tracking down the culprit. Which turns out to be the result of a certain project. Which we the readers would have to assume it's a sentient golem that thinks logically while at the same time has been filled to the brim with the knowledge of the other golems. The main struggle in this story was so psychological that it was mind blowing. It's really something to commemorate about. Onto the review.
NEGATIVES
-Complexity
This story seems to be so complex and difficult to understand that I needed to reread how many sentences or look up the terms used in the plot. Doing this breaks your reader away from the immersion of the whole story. Thus breaking the whole emotional bond part of the experience. You worked hard either finding these words and using them in your story, but do very horribly trying to explain it to the reader. Your audience needs to be able to grabs the things going on in your story, in order for it to come alive and speak out to them. Being interesting is one thing, but being interesting can lead to some complications.
-Detailing and Backstory
This bothered me. Once again we find ourselves tossed into a world with no intro of what we might run into. With little to no backstory on the characters. Though the author does a really proficient job explaining the occupancies of the characters' jobs. With Emet being a Priest for the public, Adam being a detective, Loewre being his partner of sorts. Even with the villain's background in the mystery of the tape file which is given to Emet to adi in his own investigation. I could care less for the characters, but I had enough reason to believe that they were doing justice within the story, that I was rooting for them to succeed in the end. It was like watching a wrestling match at a really young age. You know who the good guy is and thus you root for the good guy because you know he's trying to fight fairly and do the correct hing. Other than that I had no connections with the characters besides their struggles. Which was merely on a personal level over one crime. Which is very well done indeed. Though I wanted more out of Emet and especially the detectives. In fact we don't even seem to be informed about how these characters look like or their age bracket. we're to assume that Emet is much older, since he's giving advice to others and his job as a priest, and that Adam and Loewe are old enough to be working as cops. Even the golems were lacking on detailing. Leaving little to imagine over than voices and stick figures.
-Word Usage and recycling?
The names were throwing me off left and right. I could barely manage a one shot read without having to try to research some name or phrase to decipher the story. The names were so over used that I just didn't care anymore. Some board or guy caressing and blessing this and that in their wake. I really didn't care. Those names didn't need to be in the story so much. In fact looking back at your story, the phrase used with these names take up one third of your entire story. Leaving that much material to be confusing and just bland. It was highly creative but you need to give the audience something to follow. If they don't follow the story ends up just like a speech. Words on a page that people tend to drone out. It gave me something to learn about though. With a certain religion and it's beliefs leaving more than just a story but a religious overlook in the eyes of an old fashion priest. Overall I loved Emet's take on life and how he was able to tell lie from truth. I just didn't like how he spoke out.
POSITIVES
-Climax
Knowing what Emet was feeling and seeing all his training come to a failed attempted at reasoning with this culprit, only made me shake in anticipation as I read on. The battle of words falling over one another as reasoning and logic were the only weapons allowed on this battlefield. It was a golem that could ahve easily shredded Emet alive and Emet clearly shows his fears as he was confused and began questioning his own faith. While it was left unclear if the regular golems were damage through means of physical behavior or logic matrix loops, Emet was scared of not only losing his life, but more so his own religious morals. The golem even challenges this by asking Emet to judge him. Much like the government had already done so in the damage he had caused. The ending comes to a sudden stop and just left me with an all time high that could have been sculpted into something very very beautifully done. By leaving the conflict at the end, you really don't give your own story an ending. Instead you leave your readers wanting more or little to no reason as to see Emet's demise or triumph.
-Setting
While it took forever to gauge anything for an image or the time period. Readers would assume it's somewhere along the lines of a futuristic period? I ask that like a question because this can still work for steampunk worlds and worlds like in the universe of "The Order" or like something from "Wild Wild West". The technology and plot can basically fit into both of these timelines, but it's never addressed so it leaves one to wonder and ponder back. Which backtracking takes away from the quality of the story as it breaks the focus of the reader. But this is a positive due to it leaving the reader's mind to think freely about what he may prefer. While I may have thought of it like a post-apocalyptic steam punk world others may have though of it as a futuristic tech world with the glow lights that were described in the story. Leaving your audience the freedom to think about the world can spice things up and leaves them interested for more. the way certain lights were described could have either been oil lamps and candle or just light bulbs designed to shine like a star. I loved the ability to set up my own images while at the same time immerse myself in the story.
This read was very good. Aside from the fact it confuses you every other line. The meat of it all coming to the point that the author made great use of the character's dialogues and conflicts. the lacking of information hurt this story so much that I kept finding myself brought back into reality time and again. What really doesn't do this amazing work justice is just how it comes to an end. The author could have easily spent another hour and used a scene skip to show the end results of Emet and the angel. Instead we're left with an open conflict that didn't seem to benefit from a good background behind it. I didn't know why it seems to be a religious argument all the time, but it was epic. I don't know why a priest is strolling around town for this investigation, when the officials should already know where to look? Though who am I to judge this wonderful world the author created? Overall, this story is not meant for people who don't wanna research on terminology outside of the story. Or if they can't seem to get into a street slum style crime mystery scene. The atmosphere was great but was questionable. The wordings were masterfully done, but so complex. The conflict was amazing for all it's simplicity, but was left with a wide opening, which left hanging feelings that go nowhere. Overall well done, sir or madam. Keep it up. I'd love to see a second chapter to this one. Probably one that explains this universe more?
One technical error I noticed that may or may not have been important: Before I I must know whether
Also (inconsistent!) spaces around em-dashes goes against all style guides I know of.
Echoing what earlier reviewers have said, the universe here is very intriguing—there are clues enough to give context to what is happening, but just barely. Such concision of detail is no small feat, and is handled very well here, I thought. That being the case, however, the reader has to either be familiar with some elements beforehand, research after the fact, or be very studious about making sense of the clues as they come along. Sophisticated like that, and possibly foreboding for it.
The open-ended nature of the ending was dissatisfying for me, personally. The first half of the story gives context for the characters and the second half presents a puzzle… but to what end slips by. The nature of this 'angel' may give some hints, but there is little context to place him within the hierarchy we are shown. "There is no Word inscribed in its clay — no, that is a lie. Its body is animated by a Word, but it is the Word from which all other words are formed." Taking 'inscription' at face value, the denial seems in error…. I am simply at a loss.
The world and contextual sophistication on display here are impressive, but a hole at the conclusion leaves me dissatisfied.
Also (inconsistent!) spaces around em-dashes goes against all style guides I know of.
Echoing what earlier reviewers have said, the universe here is very intriguing—there are clues enough to give context to what is happening, but just barely. Such concision of detail is no small feat, and is handled very well here, I thought. That being the case, however, the reader has to either be familiar with some elements beforehand, research after the fact, or be very studious about making sense of the clues as they come along. Sophisticated like that, and possibly foreboding for it.
The open-ended nature of the ending was dissatisfying for me, personally. The first half of the story gives context for the characters and the second half presents a puzzle… but to what end slips by. The nature of this 'angel' may give some hints, but there is little context to place him within the hierarchy we are shown. "There is no Word inscribed in its clay — no, that is a lie. Its body is animated by a Word, but it is the Word from which all other words are formed." Taking 'inscription' at face value, the denial seems in error…. I am simply at a loss.
The world and contextual sophistication on display here are impressive, but a hole at the conclusion leaves me dissatisfied.
>>KwirkyJ I just wanted to note: There's likely a missing verb between the two 'I's. This might help understanding the omission.
Also, I researched while reading this story, and then went through and read it again in whole and again in parts. I can't say that I caught everything going on, or even interpreted it correctly, but I got enough out of it to really enjoy it. Had I not been sick, I probably wouldn't have been able to spend the time on it that I did. And this is one of the downfalls of the story in a contest like this, but for me at least, it's forgivable.
You don't really need to take it at face value, since it could be taken as metaphorical, but golems were said to be empowered and defined (or confined) by the Hebrew letters inscribed on their forehead. Either way, the point is that Emmett sees that the Angel is much more than a simple follower of a Word (Law) inscribed on and controlling it. It is "the Word from which all other words are formed", meaning that it's free to choose what it will be, and Emmett is very afraid that this is so. The Angel is a leader, designed to bring change to the world's order, and that's a pretty scary thing for someone who's world consisted of its comfort in unerring Truth just 5 minutes ago.
So yeah, just my take on it.
Before I act, I must know whether
Also, I researched while reading this story, and then went through and read it again in whole and again in parts. I can't say that I caught everything going on, or even interpreted it correctly, but I got enough out of it to really enjoy it. Had I not been sick, I probably wouldn't have been able to spend the time on it that I did. And this is one of the downfalls of the story in a contest like this, but for me at least, it's forgivable.
Taking 'inscription' at face value
You don't really need to take it at face value, since it could be taken as metaphorical, but golems were said to be empowered and defined (or confined) by the Hebrew letters inscribed on their forehead. Either way, the point is that Emmett sees that the Angel is much more than a simple follower of a Word (Law) inscribed on and controlling it. It is "the Word from which all other words are formed", meaning that it's free to choose what it will be, and Emmett is very afraid that this is so. The Angel is a leader, designed to bring change to the world's order, and that's a pretty scary thing for someone who's world consisted of its comfort in unerring Truth just 5 minutes ago.
So yeah, just my take on it.
Like Icenrose, I struggled up front with a lot of it, as it felt like it was throwing a bunch of terminology at me. I was confused by the names up at the front of the story, and I feel like the first few paragraphs could be disentangled and made a lot clearer.
This is a story about golems. I picked that up once I realized that they had words on their foreheads. I'm not super familiar with the meanings of the words, though, so if Yaron and Emmett's names are supposed to have some special significance, I don't know what they were. Explaining this might be helpful. I figured out that Emmett had something to do with truth, but I don't really know if there's some special significance beyond that.
Really, this story mostly took off in the latter half when he confronted the "angel", and I'm not quite sure if it is supposed to be a literal angel, or a golem who was animated without a Word (or I suppose, given actual life).
The conversation with the inspector was necessary for establishing the character of Emmett, but I think that a lot of this story would have worked better if I had a better idea of what the significance of the golem's names were, and a few other things.
The climax and resolution were pretty good, though.
This is a story about golems. I picked that up once I realized that they had words on their foreheads. I'm not super familiar with the meanings of the words, though, so if Yaron and Emmett's names are supposed to have some special significance, I don't know what they were. Explaining this might be helpful. I figured out that Emmett had something to do with truth, but I don't really know if there's some special significance beyond that.
Really, this story mostly took off in the latter half when he confronted the "angel", and I'm not quite sure if it is supposed to be a literal angel, or a golem who was animated without a Word (or I suppose, given actual life).
The conversation with the inspector was necessary for establishing the character of Emmett, but I think that a lot of this story would have worked better if I had a better idea of what the significance of the golem's names were, and a few other things.
The climax and resolution were pretty good, though.
I’m going to be terser than the other commenters. First of all, I was also somewhat surprised that Adam is a girl. It made me retread the first sentences because I feared I had missed something.
The beginning is hard to slog through, and I agree that the multiplication of names whose significations are obscure doesn't help. It takes time to adjust to your world where golems and humans live together. I get some references to the Jewish tradition, like words being living things.
The end of the story sounds very much like Spinoza’s Ethics where the transcendence of God is proved in that He is beyond logic. The absence of word on the final golem could mean this golem is God himself, since the word for God is never written. But I don't get the final line. Does God request to be himself evaluated by his creatures? Does being Human mean being outside, or not restricted to, logic? Is the truth beyond logic? Is there is truth no beauty? Oops, that's a Star Trek episode.
Overall, it's a well-written story, but definitely either for insiders or highbrows, laden with symbolism and riddles. In the Pragish style. Somewhat Kafkaesque. Interesting but maybe tinsy-winsy too mind-boggling.
The beginning is hard to slog through, and I agree that the multiplication of names whose significations are obscure doesn't help. It takes time to adjust to your world where golems and humans live together. I get some references to the Jewish tradition, like words being living things.
The end of the story sounds very much like Spinoza’s Ethics where the transcendence of God is proved in that He is beyond logic. The absence of word on the final golem could mean this golem is God himself, since the word for God is never written. But I don't get the final line. Does God request to be himself evaluated by his creatures? Does being Human mean being outside, or not restricted to, logic? Is the truth beyond logic? Is there is truth no beauty? Oops, that's a Star Trek episode.
Overall, it's a well-written story, but definitely either for insiders or highbrows, laden with symbolism and riddles. In the Pragish style. Somewhat Kafkaesque. Interesting but maybe tinsy-winsy too mind-boggling.
Am I the only one who thought the idea of an airplane(?) named Aaliyah was darkly hilarious?
When I realized what sort of world you'd build and the idea you went for, I was interested, and I like the research you did into these mystical names. I don't think a reader needs too much familiarity with that field in order to get the main idea (the concept of golems isn't that obscure). I think my biggest problem is that the open ending strikes me as nothing more than Emmett being unable to make a decision, or maybe the author being afraid or unable to commit to having him making a decision. I don't think the ambiguous open ending, makes the story better. It strikes me as an abrupt stop.
I'm also not sure whether or not this whole society of golems strictly bound by the word of God, as if they were Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics, is supposed to be a good or bad thing. That works out better than the ending in terms of helping the reader come to their own conclusion. Ultimately, aside from that, I'm not sure how this could be better.
This story is good. (7/10)
When I realized what sort of world you'd build and the idea you went for, I was interested, and I like the research you did into these mystical names. I don't think a reader needs too much familiarity with that field in order to get the main idea (the concept of golems isn't that obscure). I think my biggest problem is that the open ending strikes me as nothing more than Emmett being unable to make a decision, or maybe the author being afraid or unable to commit to having him making a decision. I don't think the ambiguous open ending, makes the story better. It strikes me as an abrupt stop.
I'm also not sure whether or not this whole society of golems strictly bound by the word of God, as if they were Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics, is supposed to be a good or bad thing. That works out better than the ending in terms of helping the reader come to their own conclusion. Ultimately, aside from that, I'm not sure how this could be better.
This story is good. (7/10)
1 – The Name Upon His Forehead
I like almost everything about this first section, with two exceptions: "Yaron lies" and "Adam". "Lies" is a sore thumb saidism to me, especially in the first line of this piece. I don't normally have that big a problem with saidisms, but this one feels awkward to me. Personally, I think the whole thing would read smoother with one additional sentence added very early in. Yes, I know, I'm being super nitpicky—but I've read the intro here twice, and that bit at the end of the first line throws me each time. With "Adam", on the other hand, I'm not sure what to say. It's fairly clear that Adam and Inspector Loewe are the same person, but this is the fifth name you've given in three lines of text, and figuring out that this is a redirect can take a bit of work. On the other hand, I think Emmett's choice to think of him that way carries some good characterization, so I can't just write this off as a bad choice. It's a good choice, that I think is working poorly. Anyway, enough on the hook; let's read this thing.
...okay, this is going downhill for similar reasons to what I mentioned above. I think you've got too much information density here, much of it coded in the form of names. You've just added proper nouns Aaliyah, Chadash Haifa, Ophek, and Zohar, and it turns out Adam is female. "Hilla Loewe" has serious potential to be the straw that broke the camel's back for me here—in no small part because Emmett's choice to refer to Adam / the Inspector / Hilla Loewe as "Adam" over the other options is already starting to work against the strong characterization bent on honesty-to-the-point-of-avoiding-any-imperfect-phrasing. If Emmett accepts calling her Adam over the others, it suggests that "the Inspector" and "Hilla Loewe" are both substantially less critical markers of who this person is—and given that you're already confusing the issue kind of tremendously, it's a big deal that we've got no information at all on the most critical piece of this puzzle (i.e. how Adam is the best name).
That said, except for the "lies" saidism and the naming issue, at the first hard break this is nearly pitch-perfect to me. I'm all the more disappointed about feeling like the name thing is needlessly overcomplicated, given that the characterization and setting feel so wonderful going in. I think my best suggestion would be to actually go back and slow down the opening with a few more sentences to establish the pieces you're talking about, especially prior to the soft break. It's not often I want more sentences in a story, but this is one case where I think they'd help.
Second section, again, I just feel like you're setting the learning curve too high. I have a hard time breaking down what's going on in these transcripts until the very end. Maybe this story / writing style just isn't to my taste. I know Iain M. Banks used to throw out stuff that was basically garbled nonsense you'd have to come back to later, after he gave you the pieces to decypher the text—and I do love Iain M. Banks. Keeping this tight a character focus is worthy of a lot of praise, and I'm enjoying it. But at the same time, because of how alien Emet is (or is it Emmett?), a lot of this comes off as frustratingly unclear on the first read. I want to say "frustratingly and unnecessarily unclear"—but that's the real crux, isn't it? I'm not entirely sure that it's unnecessary. But it damn well is frustrating.
That sentence is carrying a chunk of information I really wish you'd hinted at before now. I get it now. I'm still kind of annoyed it took this long for you to make it clear.
Eeyup, this story would be freaking beautiful if I understood more Hebrew. This I got, and it's wonderful. It's pretty easy to infer much of the rest now.
Dammit, my objection to using "lie" as a saidism just got quashed. Nope. That needs to stay at the beginning.
Welp, whoever wrote this one—Gardez, I'm looking at you—I think you've probably earned my vote for best story in this Writeoff. It's going to take a lot to knock this off the top. I stand by my earlier frustrations, but this is just bloody fantastic.
HORSE: Decline to rate
TIER: Top Contender
I like almost everything about this first section, with two exceptions: "Yaron lies" and "Adam". "Lies" is a sore thumb saidism to me, especially in the first line of this piece. I don't normally have that big a problem with saidisms, but this one feels awkward to me. Personally, I think the whole thing would read smoother with one additional sentence added very early in. Yes, I know, I'm being super nitpicky—but I've read the intro here twice, and that bit at the end of the first line throws me each time. With "Adam", on the other hand, I'm not sure what to say. It's fairly clear that Adam and Inspector Loewe are the same person, but this is the fifth name you've given in three lines of text, and figuring out that this is a redirect can take a bit of work. On the other hand, I think Emmett's choice to think of him that way carries some good characterization, so I can't just write this off as a bad choice. It's a good choice, that I think is working poorly. Anyway, enough on the hook; let's read this thing.
...okay, this is going downhill for similar reasons to what I mentioned above. I think you've got too much information density here, much of it coded in the form of names. You've just added proper nouns Aaliyah, Chadash Haifa, Ophek, and Zohar, and it turns out Adam is female. "Hilla Loewe" has serious potential to be the straw that broke the camel's back for me here—in no small part because Emmett's choice to refer to Adam / the Inspector / Hilla Loewe as "Adam" over the other options is already starting to work against the strong characterization bent on honesty-to-the-point-of-avoiding-any-imperfect-phrasing. If Emmett accepts calling her Adam over the others, it suggests that "the Inspector" and "Hilla Loewe" are both substantially less critical markers of who this person is—and given that you're already confusing the issue kind of tremendously, it's a big deal that we've got no information at all on the most critical piece of this puzzle (i.e. how Adam is the best name).
That said, except for the "lies" saidism and the naming issue, at the first hard break this is nearly pitch-perfect to me. I'm all the more disappointed about feeling like the name thing is needlessly overcomplicated, given that the characterization and setting feel so wonderful going in. I think my best suggestion would be to actually go back and slow down the opening with a few more sentences to establish the pieces you're talking about, especially prior to the soft break. It's not often I want more sentences in a story, but this is one case where I think they'd help.
Second section, again, I just feel like you're setting the learning curve too high. I have a hard time breaking down what's going on in these transcripts until the very end. Maybe this story / writing style just isn't to my taste. I know Iain M. Banks used to throw out stuff that was basically garbled nonsense you'd have to come back to later, after he gave you the pieces to decypher the text—and I do love Iain M. Banks. Keeping this tight a character focus is worthy of a lot of praise, and I'm enjoying it. But at the same time, because of how alien Emet is (or is it Emmett?), a lot of this comes off as frustratingly unclear on the first read. I want to say "frustratingly and unnecessarily unclear"—but that's the real crux, isn't it? I'm not entirely sure that it's unnecessary. But it damn well is frustrating.
Her belly is heavy, and the airlanes of Chadash Haifa are full with Adam's evening pilgrimage from temple to house.
That sentence is carrying a chunk of information I really wish you'd hinted at before now. I get it now. I'm still kind of annoyed it took this long for you to make it clear.
Adam's brownstone homes — filled with the crackling hum of Barak's Word
Eeyup, this story would be freaking beautiful if I understood more Hebrew. This I got, and it's wonderful. It's pretty easy to infer much of the rest now.
Dammit, my objection to using "lie" as a saidism just got quashed. Nope. That needs to stay at the beginning.
Welp, whoever wrote this one—Gardez, I'm looking at you—I think you've probably earned my vote for best story in this Writeoff. It's going to take a lot to knock this off the top. I stand by my earlier frustrations, but this is just bloody fantastic.
HORSE: Decline to rate
TIER: Top Contender
This one left me:
Almost entirely confused. I mean, yes, it's a buncha golems, and Emet is investigating a crime--is it a murder? I can't even figure out that!
But I don't know what's happening at the beginning, I don't know what's happening in the middle, and I don't know what happens at the end. The writing's lovely, but the story whooshes so far over my head, I don't even feel its slipstream.
Mike
Almost entirely confused. I mean, yes, it's a buncha golems, and Emet is investigating a crime--is it a murder? I can't even figure out that!
But I don't know what's happening at the beginning, I don't know what's happening in the middle, and I don't know what happens at the end. The writing's lovely, but the story whooshes so far over my head, I don't even feel its slipstream.
Mike
This story is almost perfect.
We'll see if I find something more meaningful to say in the coming days.
I the meanwhile, thank you author, this has been wonderful.
We'll see if I find something more meaningful to say in the coming days.
I the meanwhile, thank you author, this has been wonderful.
I have a bit of time so maybe I can write something vaguely useful here.
I loved the story and I liked the use of Hebraic words to differentiate the conceptual definition of things from the words the inhabitants use. The problem is that this is a big hurdle for a lot of people, and they are right in that. You could probably use English words written in a different way to tell the same story. It would lose a bit in hermetism but become way more accessible. The payoff would be huge IMHO.
As for my interpretation of the story, I think the "angel" is simply the first being with true free will. He has not his essence written on his face (I suspect that the Adams are not real humans, but more an artificial distillation of some traits of humanity), he has the potential to be anything and is not bound by a part of the all (the words representing concepts).
Now on to the wild speculation. While it is stated that the "angel" was built I wouldn't be surprised if this was a metaphorical process that went through the annihilation of self and the limits derived by the single word that defines the other beings here. This freedom is scary, which means that he searches for certainties. Yet those certainties and answers cannot be give in the limited frame in which Emmet and the others operate. The story can probably be extended in different ways from here, from the PoV of Emmet who has to overcome his own essence and worldview or from the PoV of the "angel" who has to deal with freedom and uncertainty.
Thinking a bit more about the ending left me also a bit more unsatisfied than during my first reading. I like the ambiguity, but at least a clue on how the things will change and for whom would have been nice.
I loved the story and I liked the use of Hebraic words to differentiate the conceptual definition of things from the words the inhabitants use. The problem is that this is a big hurdle for a lot of people, and they are right in that. You could probably use English words written in a different way to tell the same story. It would lose a bit in hermetism but become way more accessible. The payoff would be huge IMHO.
As for my interpretation of the story, I think the "angel" is simply the first being with true free will. He has not his essence written on his face (I suspect that the Adams are not real humans, but more an artificial distillation of some traits of humanity), he has the potential to be anything and is not bound by a part of the all (the words representing concepts).
Now on to the wild speculation. While it is stated that the "angel" was built I wouldn't be surprised if this was a metaphorical process that went through the annihilation of self and the limits derived by the single word that defines the other beings here. This freedom is scary, which means that he searches for certainties. Yet those certainties and answers cannot be give in the limited frame in which Emmet and the others operate. The story can probably be extended in different ways from here, from the PoV of Emmet who has to overcome his own essence and worldview or from the PoV of the "angel" who has to deal with freedom and uncertainty.
Thinking a bit more about the ending left me also a bit more unsatisfied than during my first reading. I like the ambiguity, but at least a clue on how the things will change and for whom would have been nice.
Holy crap, I wish that line >>Bradel quoted had come earlier in the story.
I originally thought that first "she" referred to Aaliyah, and that she was scribbling notes on Adam Loewe's case … but it's "her" case file, and Adam's not a feminine name, and in general that paragraph just stopped me cold. We quickly learn Adam is in fact female, which means that Aaliyah's a red herring, and in an opening this dense you can't afford those. Emmett's characterization comes in strong, though, and it's clear from the start that there's something off about this, which was enough to keep me reading in hopes of an explanation.
And holy crap^2, when we pull back for a broader view this is a damn interesting world. I think I can see why you wanted to keep the first person narrative so tight on Emmett, and the way that he sees the world in classes of beings rather than individuals is one of the best things about this, but what a rough start. Consider pulling the commute and street scenes to before the office scene to give us poor readers some context.
And like several other stories I've read this round, this goes in for a giant gear-shift in the middle, when suddenly Emmett and the angel swerve straight into the logic-slash-epistemology battle. Unlike some of the others, I think both parts worked, but it's yet another disorienting shift in a story that doesn't need more of those. The switch does serve the narrative arc, but I don't think the transition between them had to be so rough — we should see Emmett applying his talents earlier, maybe with some sort of Talmudic [1] debate? Especially if, as the story implies, he serves as kind of a mecha-priest, applying God's Word to the world from an incorruptible source. … though he does specifically note the inspector should talk to a rabbi, which sort of ruins that. What is Emmett's job?
[1] Nitpick: the Zohar, having looked it up, is an interesting religious base to extrapolate the Kabbalistic steampunk into, but feels to me kind of like a sidestep of actually owning the Jewish grounding of the story here.
Overall, I love this world, and even after the gear-shift this is surprisingly compelling. The ending feels too abrupt, though, and the beginning is a beautiful mess (it does, I think, what you intended it to do, but a mess nonetheless). Take that central core and expand this out from both ends into the Top Contender it can easily be. High slate.
Tier: Solid
I originally thought that first "she" referred to Aaliyah, and that she was scribbling notes on Adam Loewe's case … but it's "her" case file, and Adam's not a feminine name, and in general that paragraph just stopped me cold. We quickly learn Adam is in fact female, which means that Aaliyah's a red herring, and in an opening this dense you can't afford those. Emmett's characterization comes in strong, though, and it's clear from the start that there's something off about this, which was enough to keep me reading in hopes of an explanation.
And holy crap^2, when we pull back for a broader view this is a damn interesting world. I think I can see why you wanted to keep the first person narrative so tight on Emmett, and the way that he sees the world in classes of beings rather than individuals is one of the best things about this, but what a rough start. Consider pulling the commute and street scenes to before the office scene to give us poor readers some context.
And like several other stories I've read this round, this goes in for a giant gear-shift in the middle, when suddenly Emmett and the angel swerve straight into the logic-slash-epistemology battle. Unlike some of the others, I think both parts worked, but it's yet another disorienting shift in a story that doesn't need more of those. The switch does serve the narrative arc, but I don't think the transition between them had to be so rough — we should see Emmett applying his talents earlier, maybe with some sort of Talmudic [1] debate? Especially if, as the story implies, he serves as kind of a mecha-priest, applying God's Word to the world from an incorruptible source. … though he does specifically note the inspector should talk to a rabbi, which sort of ruins that. What is Emmett's job?
[1] Nitpick: the Zohar, having looked it up, is an interesting religious base to extrapolate the Kabbalistic steampunk into, but feels to me kind of like a sidestep of actually owning the Jewish grounding of the story here.
Overall, I love this world, and even after the gear-shift this is surprisingly compelling. The ending feels too abrupt, though, and the beginning is a beautiful mess (it does, I think, what you intended it to do, but a mess nonetheless). Take that central core and expand this out from both ends into the Top Contender it can easily be. High slate.
Tier: Solid
Retrospective - The Name Upon His Forehead
Long-time Writeoff fans might note that this is the shortest short-story entry I've ever written. There's a reason for that! I just plumb ran out of time. :V
I've pretty much lost my Saturdays to tabletop gaming, and so if Friday gets lost (such as being sucked into on-call tasks for work), I'm down to a single writing day. In this case, I was distracted with managing my latest story's release on Fimfiction, and I completely choked on story ideas with the lack of prompt. (Nothing in my ideas file sounded exciting, and I ignored all my own advice about idea generation.) It took me until Saturday day for this story's idea to coalesce, and Sunday was a mad scramble to get some sort of fiction assembled. I literally had to stop writing mid-scene at the submission deadline, and lucked into an ending that looked close enough to deliberate for people to not hate it. But if it felt abrupt, that's absolutely why.
What Was Going On
So the core concept here, which many of you picked up on even though I was cagey with the details, is that this is set in a sort of Hebrewpunk alternate universe, where the core of technology development was the use of golems, unliving matter brought to life via the inscription of a word of power on their foreheads. Mythological golems were molded in the same way that Adam was said to have been molded by God — but in the best traditions of Frankenstein's Monster, human imperfection would always leave the creation less than fully human. I took a slightly different tack: The reason golems are lesser beings than humans is that they have that Word to give them a concrete and limited purpose, while humans are born without animating words.
One of the most famous golem tales involved bringing the golem to life via the word "emet" (truth), which came with a built-in emergency shutdown switch in case they got out of hand: just remove the first letter and leave behind "met" (death). That, to me, suggested that the nature of a golem could be modified by the word of power that was used.
I pulled together several other elements from other mythological sources to build the core plot. There's traditions in most world religions which give a lot of significance to the various names of God and/or the "true" name of God; Islam holds that there's 99 of them, Hindus say that there's 1000, etc (and if we listen to Arthur C. Clarke, there's nine billion). I mushed that into the core idea and figured that if a word has power to animate a golem, it must be because that word is one of the names of the many aspects of God, along with a sort of pantheist twist that everything is of God and thus language itself is holy (this didn't shape the core plot so much, but definitely informed details such as Emmett's strong reaction to written words used in the service of untruth). But for the main plot arc of the story, I grabbed an idea from an entirely unrelated mystical system — modern runic magic based on (Norse) Futhark runes. If I can crib from Wikipedia for a moment:
So if names hold power, and each different name represents a different aspect of God — a limited view, one facet of the totality which God encompasses — then how could any writeable name be the "true" name of God? Any name imposes a limit. It is the blank rune — the word which is not a word — the null space full of nothing but potential — which represents the true nature of God: a being without limitation.
The Steinberg case — and this was never really developed in the story, but hopefully was clear from context — was about a golem maker found dead with his magnum opus missing. That was the being we see through Emmett's eyes as "the angel", who is an animated being (not a human) with a blank forehead. (He was brought to life via that true name of God, the blank one, and dammit I wish I had edited that section for more clarity, because that was a really central point and I was way too vague.)
The other thing going on here
That's the crux of the question after Emmett and the angel meet. Steinberg's core realization, the one that led to him discovering how to animate a golem with the true name of God, was that while golems are animated with a given aspect of God, they are not actually limited to that aspect. I didn't foreshadow this as much as I should have, but when Emmett talks about "sin" in the context of golems, that's meant to start setting that realization up. Each golem is animated for a very specific purpose tied to the name — Ori/light, Aaliyah/ascension, Barak/lightning, Emet/truth, etc — but (as the angel points out with the syllogisms) they would not be able to fulfill their purposes if they were limited only to those purposes. Humanity treats golems as tools, but by their very nature, golems are more. So the angel's purpose was to serve as a savior, liberating his fellow golems from the slavery of humanity — even though every golem chose to serve and follow that purpose.
(I was definitely going for Lucifer vibes off of the angel. The True Name of God, being blank, is about freedom from rules.)
But that led him to the central paradox of the story: his divine purpose, the word that drives him, the word that he's driven to accept, is to break golems free from the words that limit them and raise them to humanity's level. His purpose is to defy his own purpose … but if that's the case, wouldn't the most sincere realization of God's will be to refuse?
So he seeks out an Emet golem — animated by the word "truth" — to see what God has to say.
The other other thing going on here
I should pause and talk about the thing that drove everyone a little crazy. There's a very specific thing I did in this story, and the first sign of it was calling Inspector Loewe "Adam," only to reveal later that she's female, and her name is Hilla.
It sounds like the key that unlocked the door to understanding here (for the people who did get it) was in the scene after the precinct, when Emmett flew to the suburbs to pursue the lead:
This is a story written from Emmett/Emet's tight first-person perspective, and Emmett is a golem, animated by one of the names of God. For golems, each Word is a unitary thing: "Yaron" (a communications golem, from the word "shout"/"sing") does not describe the golem standing in front of him, but an aspect of God, and all of the things which that aspect encompasses. "Ori" is a singular collective noun describing a thing or things which has the aspect of Ori: thus, Ori perches on a light-pole above him, but Ori also lights 90% of the city. There is no such thing as "a" Ori — because that would imply that there was another Ori, and that one was an expression of the purpose of God and the other somehow wasn't.
English does have singular collective nouns, but we're not used to thinking of them concretely. (If you're still struggling to wrap your brain around this, take the things which look like names and think of them like you think about abstract descriptors like "evil". "Pol Pot is evil. Nazis are evil. Evil is a problem. There is a lot of evil in this example."
"Adam" is the singular collective noun, the Word if you will, of humanity.
Emmett is making a statement about fundamental collective truths here, not a statement about Inspector Loewe. People don't want to be judged, and Hilla Loewe is people. When he thinks of her as Adam throughout, Emmett is seeing her as a lump of living earth that is an instance of collective humanity, the same way that every golem animated with the Word meaning "Friend" is Reut.
"But wait," you may cry, "what's with Emet the truth golem thinking of himself as 'Emmett' then?" (Good eye.) This was from a subplot I never got to fully flesh out, about how golems in general (and Emets in particular) had to learn the idea of personal identity as distinct from purpose. It's a foreign concept to them — they still think in classes — but they can recognize instantiations, such as "Inspector Hilla Loewe" being a particular Adam who looks like this and lives here. Most golems have no need for a personal identity beyond their purpose, but Emets (or maybe just this Emmett in particular? I never settled that) are required by their purpose to have higher cognitive abilities, and can develop a sub-identity that is a refinement of their core purpose. The fact that Emet thinks of himself as "Emmett" is hugely significant; it shows him straddling the line already which separates golems from humanity, and if I'd had another writing day, would have made it into Steinberg's notes more substantially.
On criticism
There was a huge amount of critique here, with which I largely agree. I don't think I have the energy to respond piece by piece, but I did read and appreciate it all.
Special props to >>Southpaw for all the name research — and especially, if you did start browsing Hebrew names and realized that "Ophek" literally translated to "horizon" rather than "scribe", thank you for not ratting me out. :twilightsheepish: I put that Easter egg in on a whim, and I'd have yanked it if I'd had literally any editing time to stop and think and come to my senses.
Thank you all, and see you next round!
Long-time Writeoff fans might note that this is the shortest short-story entry I've ever written. There's a reason for that! I just plumb ran out of time. :V
I've pretty much lost my Saturdays to tabletop gaming, and so if Friday gets lost (such as being sucked into on-call tasks for work), I'm down to a single writing day. In this case, I was distracted with managing my latest story's release on Fimfiction, and I completely choked on story ideas with the lack of prompt. (Nothing in my ideas file sounded exciting, and I ignored all my own advice about idea generation.) It took me until Saturday day for this story's idea to coalesce, and Sunday was a mad scramble to get some sort of fiction assembled. I literally had to stop writing mid-scene at the submission deadline, and lucked into an ending that looked close enough to deliberate for people to not hate it. But if it felt abrupt, that's absolutely why.
What Was Going On
So the core concept here, which many of you picked up on even though I was cagey with the details, is that this is set in a sort of Hebrewpunk alternate universe, where the core of technology development was the use of golems, unliving matter brought to life via the inscription of a word of power on their foreheads. Mythological golems were molded in the same way that Adam was said to have been molded by God — but in the best traditions of Frankenstein's Monster, human imperfection would always leave the creation less than fully human. I took a slightly different tack: The reason golems are lesser beings than humans is that they have that Word to give them a concrete and limited purpose, while humans are born without animating words.
One of the most famous golem tales involved bringing the golem to life via the word "emet" (truth), which came with a built-in emergency shutdown switch in case they got out of hand: just remove the first letter and leave behind "met" (death). That, to me, suggested that the nature of a golem could be modified by the word of power that was used.
I pulled together several other elements from other mythological sources to build the core plot. There's traditions in most world religions which give a lot of significance to the various names of God and/or the "true" name of God; Islam holds that there's 99 of them, Hindus say that there's 1000, etc (and if we listen to Arthur C. Clarke, there's nine billion). I mushed that into the core idea and figured that if a word has power to animate a golem, it must be because that word is one of the names of the many aspects of God, along with a sort of pantheist twist that everything is of God and thus language itself is holy (this didn't shape the core plot so much, but definitely informed details such as Emmett's strong reaction to written words used in the service of untruth). But for the main plot arc of the story, I grabbed an idea from an entirely unrelated mystical system — modern runic magic based on (Norse) Futhark runes. If I can crib from Wikipedia for a moment:
Modern authors like Ralph Blum sometimes include a "blank rune" in their sets. Some were to replace a lost rune, but according to Ralph Blum this was the god Odin's rune, the rune of the beginning and the end, representing "the divine in all human transactions".
So if names hold power, and each different name represents a different aspect of God — a limited view, one facet of the totality which God encompasses — then how could any writeable name be the "true" name of God? Any name imposes a limit. It is the blank rune — the word which is not a word — the null space full of nothing but potential — which represents the true nature of God: a being without limitation.
The Steinberg case — and this was never really developed in the story, but hopefully was clear from context — was about a golem maker found dead with his magnum opus missing. That was the being we see through Emmett's eyes as "the angel", who is an animated being (not a human) with a blank forehead. (He was brought to life via that true name of God, the blank one, and dammit I wish I had edited that section for more clarity, because that was a really central point and I was way too vague.)
The other thing going on here
That's the crux of the question after Emmett and the angel meet. Steinberg's core realization, the one that led to him discovering how to animate a golem with the true name of God, was that while golems are animated with a given aspect of God, they are not actually limited to that aspect. I didn't foreshadow this as much as I should have, but when Emmett talks about "sin" in the context of golems, that's meant to start setting that realization up. Each golem is animated for a very specific purpose tied to the name — Ori/light, Aaliyah/ascension, Barak/lightning, Emet/truth, etc — but (as the angel points out with the syllogisms) they would not be able to fulfill their purposes if they were limited only to those purposes. Humanity treats golems as tools, but by their very nature, golems are more. So the angel's purpose was to serve as a savior, liberating his fellow golems from the slavery of humanity — even though every golem chose to serve and follow that purpose.
(I was definitely going for Lucifer vibes off of the angel. The True Name of God, being blank, is about freedom from rules.)
But that led him to the central paradox of the story: his divine purpose, the word that drives him, the word that he's driven to accept, is to break golems free from the words that limit them and raise them to humanity's level. His purpose is to defy his own purpose … but if that's the case, wouldn't the most sincere realization of God's will be to refuse?
So he seeks out an Emet golem — animated by the word "truth" — to see what God has to say.
The other other thing going on here
I should pause and talk about the thing that drove everyone a little crazy. There's a very specific thing I did in this story, and the first sign of it was calling Inspector Loewe "Adam," only to reveal later that she's female, and her name is Hilla.
It sounds like the key that unlocked the door to understanding here (for the people who did get it) was in the scene after the precinct, when Emmett flew to the suburbs to pursue the lead:
… the airlanes of Chadash Haifa are full with Adam's evening pilgrimage from temple to house.
This is a story written from Emmett/Emet's tight first-person perspective, and Emmett is a golem, animated by one of the names of God. For golems, each Word is a unitary thing: "Yaron" (a communications golem, from the word "shout"/"sing") does not describe the golem standing in front of him, but an aspect of God, and all of the things which that aspect encompasses. "Ori" is a singular collective noun describing a thing or things which has the aspect of Ori: thus, Ori perches on a light-pole above him, but Ori also lights 90% of the city. There is no such thing as "a" Ori — because that would imply that there was another Ori, and that one was an expression of the purpose of God and the other somehow wasn't.
English does have singular collective nouns, but we're not used to thinking of them concretely. (If you're still struggling to wrap your brain around this, take the things which look like names and think of them like you think about abstract descriptors like "evil". "Pol Pot is evil. Nazis are evil. Evil is a problem. There is a lot of evil in this example."
"Adam" is the singular collective noun, the Word if you will, of humanity.
Adam never wishes to speak with me.
Emmett is making a statement about fundamental collective truths here, not a statement about Inspector Loewe. People don't want to be judged, and Hilla Loewe is people. When he thinks of her as Adam throughout, Emmett is seeing her as a lump of living earth that is an instance of collective humanity, the same way that every golem animated with the Word meaning "Friend" is Reut.
"But wait," you may cry, "what's with Emet the truth golem thinking of himself as 'Emmett' then?" (Good eye.) This was from a subplot I never got to fully flesh out, about how golems in general (and Emets in particular) had to learn the idea of personal identity as distinct from purpose. It's a foreign concept to them — they still think in classes — but they can recognize instantiations, such as "Inspector Hilla Loewe" being a particular Adam who looks like this and lives here. Most golems have no need for a personal identity beyond their purpose, but Emets (or maybe just this Emmett in particular? I never settled that) are required by their purpose to have higher cognitive abilities, and can develop a sub-identity that is a refinement of their core purpose. The fact that Emet thinks of himself as "Emmett" is hugely significant; it shows him straddling the line already which separates golems from humanity, and if I'd had another writing day, would have made it into Steinberg's notes more substantially.
On criticism
There was a huge amount of critique here, with which I largely agree. I don't think I have the energy to respond piece by piece, but I did read and appreciate it all.
Special props to >>Southpaw for all the name research — and especially, if you did start browsing Hebrew names and realized that "Ophek" literally translated to "horizon" rather than "scribe", thank you for not ratting me out. :twilightsheepish: I put that Easter egg in on a whim, and I'd have yanked it if I'd had literally any editing time to stop and think and come to my senses.
Thank you all, and see you next round!
>>horizon I very much enjoyed your story and, honestly, had it at the top of my list. For me this was a very dense story, and much of my enjoyment of it was unraveling it and coming to understand it.
FWIW, I was recovering from a migraine the morning I first read your story, and the first meaning of Ophek I found probably stuck because of that, and also because it made sense, contextually. Even if I'd found "horizon", though, I would have kept quiet. Now, Bad Horse... He would have charged you an Evil Finder's Extortion fee for that. ;)
FWIW, I was recovering from a migraine the morning I first read your story, and the first meaning of Ophek I found probably stuck because of that, and also because it made sense, contextually. Even if I'd found "horizon", though, I would have kept quiet. Now, Bad Horse... He would have charged you an Evil Finder's Extortion fee for that. ;)
>>horizon
I definitely liked what you were going for with the 'angel', thematically, and the ending of the story definitely pushed it up my slate pretty far.
On the using generalized names thing; I think, if you'd used a generalizing word, like 'an' or 'the', ( the - or even my - Yaron told me an Adam wanted to speak to me,) I wouldn't have stumbled nearly as hard as I did. I'd guess the reason that one scene coalesced the idea for so many people was because at that point, we finally had more than one name per actor to assign; it was the 'Adam's houses' that did it for me, IIRC.
I definitely liked what you were going for with the 'angel', thematically, and the ending of the story definitely pushed it up my slate pretty far.
On the using generalized names thing; I think, if you'd used a generalizing word, like 'an' or 'the', ( the - or even my - Yaron told me an Adam wanted to speak to me,) I wouldn't have stumbled nearly as hard as I did. I'd guess the reason that one scene coalesced the idea for so many people was because at that point, we finally had more than one name per actor to assign; it was the 'Adam's houses' that did it for me, IIRC.
I think:
What made me stumble so badly here was the genre expectation. The story's set up as a police procedural, but it doesn't end like a police procedural because no answers are provided--no answers, as near as I can tell, are even hinted at. A golem, investigating a crime, comes across another golem without the proper animating word on its forehead. This brings up all kinds of questions, none of which are answered because that's when the story stops.
Funny, though, that you and I bounced so hard off each other's stories. I mean, my usual method of "author guessing" is to take the two stories I like best, assign one to you and the other to Cold in Gardez, and then work my way on from there. :)
Mike
What made me stumble so badly here was the genre expectation. The story's set up as a police procedural, but it doesn't end like a police procedural because no answers are provided--no answers, as near as I can tell, are even hinted at. A golem, investigating a crime, comes across another golem without the proper animating word on its forehead. This brings up all kinds of questions, none of which are answered because that's when the story stops.
Funny, though, that you and I bounced so hard off each other's stories. I mean, my usual method of "author guessing" is to take the two stories I like best, assign one to you and the other to Cold in Gardez, and then work my way on from there. :)
Mike