Ed, Jesus, and the Post-Modern Allegory in "Basement Jack"
Mikolaj Franaszczuk
April 2006
April 2006
Since the dawn of time, Man has struggled to understand God and the nature of life and existence, with various philosophies waxing and waning like the lives of men themselves. Individuals from ancient times to modern, from Plato to John Paul II, have contributed much to the eternal debate. And while in today's world, science, skepticism, and a general apathy for the supernatural render classic methods of analyzing these issues obsolete, the modern philosopher is somehow able to put things in the right perspective. In his seemingly innocuous short story "Basement Jack," Clark Merrefield brilliantly disguises a sophisticated allegory on the nature and existence of God as a story of an unstable drug addict trapped in another man's basement. The text explores the Christian Trinity, and delves deeper – into the psyche of not just Man, but even God Himself. The first-person narrative is a post-modern gospel, with the protagonist representing Jesus, the unfathomable Ed as God the Father, and Ed's unnamed wife assuming the role of the Holy Spirit. Merrefield's philosophical treatise offers a glimpse into the post-Nietzsche, post-Kierkegaard state of modern theology.
The allegorical nature of "Basement Jack" is apparent from the very first sentence. In it, the narrator sets the stage for his reminiscing to be "in the 80s." While on the surface level this clearly implies the 1980s, the allegorical meanings is, ironically, the 80s A.D. That first century decade was a boon for the nascent Christianity; the gospels were being written in this period, and Paul's epistles have already been established as authoritative documents for the new religion. Despite persecutions two decades earlier, the 80s enjoyed a brief respite, and churches were flourishing all through the Roman Empire. "We had so many women" in the text refers both to the large number of new Christians in the 80s, as well as literally to the women during the period; unlike in pagan religions, the female gender had a large role to play.
After the brief positive introduction, the story quickly shifts to a a dismal mood. The time frame is propelled to the modern world, and Jack is "on the brink of self-destruction." Indeed, with two thousand years of history, divisiveness, and schisms, the modern concept of Christianity is even hard to clearly define. "My wife left me" refers to the Church itself. As is clear in various biblical passages, Christ refers to the Church as His bride. In today's world, particularly in a society like the American, the true Church is gone and has been usurped by politicians and "pastors" with little actual theological knowledge. "My kids hated me", refers literally to children – today's youth. With each passing generation, religion plays a smaller and smaller role - to the point where people begin to not just ignore God and religion – but to actually disdain them.
In the second paragraph, the mood switches dramatically once again. The reader is finally introduced to Ed, whose first description is that he was a "real savior." The allusion to Jesus is obvious. But the twist here is that Ed doesn't represent Jesus – he represents God the Father. Indeed, it is God the Father that is the "real" savior – it is He who initially sent Jesus down to Earth. Furthermore, the implication is that God saved not just Man, but even Jesus himself – much like Ed saves Jack in the story. The deep mystery of God is revealed by the methods through which Ed "saved" Jack. Ordinarily, one wouldn't regard "cocaine" and "Taiwanese hookers" as a form of salvation. Merrefield uses these clearly negative images in a positive sense to show how incomprehensible God is; the paragraph is like the Biblical book of Job, but greatly condensed.
The relationship between Ed and Jack in the story is a strange and complicated one, much like the imagined relationship between God the Father and Jesus in the modern world. Jack, for his own safety, must be kept in the basement until, he "gets better." It's as if God put Jesus aside for a while, to keep him out of the harsh world, until modern religious problems can be solved. Ed himself is still out there – much like God is. For God the Father can transcend Christianity and reach out to religions like Judaism and Islam. Those religions, of course, would not accept Jesus, and even modern Christians' concept of Jesus has been so corrupted, that they would hardly recognize the real Jesus, the "high-powered stockbroker . . . living the high life." But God keeps Jesus abreast of the real world – he filters it our for him. In the story, the basement has a window through which Ed gives Jack "bread and peanut butter." This is clearly the bread and wine of communion. Jesus can't be out there to receive it directly from the people – but God the Father brings it to him. Furthermore, God's first priority is his only son – Jesus. This is evident from the conversation with the wife, in which Ed lists a number of things he has to do, but clarifies that "first I'm gonna go get some things for our friend." The key thing to notice is that Ed's actions are completely selfless and altruistic. He expects nothing in return from Jack, and it is clear that Jack can do nothing for Ed at this stage in his life. The allegorical implication is that much like Jesus selflessly sacrificed himself for Man, Ed has a selfless attitude towards Jesus. The only obstacle getting in the way of Ed's relationship with Jack is Ed's wife, whose presence adds a complex extra layer to the story.
Literary critics have varied opinions on the symbolism of Ed's wife in "Basement Jack." Arguments have been made for her as the Holy Spirit, as a symbol of Wisdom (both in a Biblical and a platonic sense), and even as the gnostic companion of the Divine presence. Analysis pointing to her serving simultaneously as the Holy Spirit and as Athena – the mythic goddess of wisdom, are most plausible. This allows for the narrative to both maintain its Christian core, yet expand into a global understanding of God (much like Ed's symbolism as God can also apply to Islamic and Judaic philosophies). This blend of concepts is indeed novel and indicative of the author's true genius; once this idea is expounded to its full potential, it will surely be referred to as the "Merrefieldian ontology."
The story first introduces us to the wife in a very negative way. Jack states bluntly that she "hated [him]." This, ironically, fits perfectly with the platonic concept of Wisdom. Jack, with his frail disposition, exemplifies the exact opposite of wisdom: emotion. But Jack, like Jesus, realizes that this "hate" is just a force of nature and not anything personal. He later admits, once he realizes that the wife will be gone, that he "always liked her and [was] sad to see her go." This is a direct parallel to Jesus' relationship with the Pharisees in the gospel; they confronted him with wisdom (albeit Judaic, but, in these circumstances, it can be equated with its platonic version). Although Jesus constantly got into arguments with the Pharisees, it was also his chance to present his own viewpoint; if there were no Pharisees, there would be nobody to argue against. In this manner, Jack admires Ed's wife; he thinks of her often, as is evident in the "orange smelling cleaner" passage. The "Holy Spirit" symbolism of Ed's wife is evident in her relationship with Ed himself. They are ultimately a happy couple, with Ed informing her of what he does. The "college freshman" he plans on bringing home is symbolic of the souls of people – God wants everyone's souls in his kingdom. Ed's desire for the freshman is clearly not a form of adultery, as otherwise he would not inform his wife of it. The physical aspect of the relationship ("He kisses her and squeezes her breast and her ass") is indicative of the unity of the Holy Trinity; God the Father and the Holy Spirit are just different aspects of a single divinity.
Before delving into the powerful and thought-inspiring conclusion of the short story, it is worth to analyze the etymology chosen by Merrefield for his divine names. The only person named within the story itself, is, of course: Ed. After all, he represents God the Father and as such is the most important entity, The short name is reminiscent of the Lord's tetragrammeron used throughout the Hebrew Bible: YHWH. Cleverly, "ED" is exactly half as long. Perhaps it's because in this post-modern world, God is only half as significant as he used to be. Nevertheless, he is not forgotten: "Ed" appears numerous times in the short narrative. Notably, in the dialog segments, his name is fully capitalized as "ED" – another allusion to YHWH. Now, while the narrator's name appears nowhere in the story itself, it is present in the title: "Basement Jack." The starting letter, "J", is a subtle hint for the allusion to Jesus. What is perhaps less subtle is that "basement" directly modifies the name; the title is not "Jack in the Basement" for instance. This equates "basement" with "Christ"; for Jesus really is "Christ Jesus." Finally, one cannot ignore the significance of the number "3" - so prominently highlighted in one passage. The sentence in which it appears could have, on a literal level, read simply "I heat up my stuff with a black lighter and put it all in the reservoir." The very deliberate insertion of "3" serves as a powerful link to the Holy Trinity. Jack is not alone when he lights up his "stuff;" Ed and his wife are there with him in spirit, much like God the Father and the Holy Ghost are together with Jesus.
The dramatic ending of "Basement Jack" is nothing short of a powerful retelling of the crucifixion story, but set in today's world. Merrefield's mastery of literary devices creates the parallel on more than just an allegorical level. The "yellow and white flickering like a thousand eclipses" immediately brings to mind the flogging of Jesus after his trial. One can almost visualize the Roman soldiers "yelling in an official language" (which, to Jesus, would be Latin – as opposed to the local Aramaic that he spoke). "The door slams", "the latch clicks" - these images, with their associated sounds, force the reader to almost feel the whips on Jesus' flesh. Then, the story reaches its climax, with its re-imagining of the final stages of Christ's life. The "splintered wood" is clearly the cross, and much like Jesus had to carry it up to the mount, Jack has to climb the stairs to reach the door. He is "partially terrified" and "partially ecstatic" - the same juxtaposed emotions Jesus experienced – with his human part fearing death, and the divine part joyous that he was about to fulfill his destiny. The narrative gets even more graphic here. Jack gets splinters into his "palms", into his "left foot, and another into [his] right foot." These, of course, are the nails with which Jesus was attached to the cross. The final agony parallels the human nature of the passion. "it's stuck . . . but it's stuck . . . The door is stuck." Along with Jack's earlier statement that he is "alone. There is literally no one there," this is reminiscent of Jesus' futile cry of, "My God, my God – why have you forsaken me?" Jack, in his heart, was crying for Ed.
But with that, the story abruptly ends. "The door is locked." There is no escape for Jack, and thus no resurrection for Jesus. The narrative is left open-ended. What could happen next? Will Ed, as he had in the past, once again somehow act as savior for the protagonist? Or will Jack rot away in that basement, abandoned? The meaning takes on metaphysical aspects, as the reader is forced to examine both his own beliefs and the state of religion and theology in the world as a whole. Will the Christianity and Jesus of ancient times return to the world, or will the continual decline of organized religion continue? The reader himself will play a role in answering this question. But whatever the answer ends up being, the debate will certainly benefit from Merrefield's groundbraking short story. The visceral, powerful allegory he created is undeniably the first of its kind and will surely influence theology for years to come.
Mikolaj Franaszczuk is not a professor of comparative literature at Cornell university.
