Unusual Novel: The Absurd Life of the Artist

By Izidore K. Musallam

The story of four artists at their journey's end, both mentally and physically. The four are set on a collision course with their fate when a sudden miracle happens. Their four lives become intertwined into one as a mysterious woman comes to their rescue. A jazzy novel with a deep resemblance to the wandering soul of improvisation. The characters are loose and liberated, with comic spontaneity of thoughts and movements. Continuously they question their being with doubt and anxiety. A story told from the inside out in a modern world.

A singer, a writer, an actor and a painter, all four were once successful and famous. As life progressed they were left behind in their own corners, alienated from the surrounding and from themselves. For each one, their loneliness led to a little life that had its downs with no ups. Life became an empty box of candies that lured the four artists separately but surely into the abyss.

Then the unexpected happened: she appeared from nowhere. From her painted toenails to her head of a long black hair—some smooth and some curly—and a slender body and a classical bone structure with a gorgeous face. She had the complexion of a night-blooming lily, but above it all, her manner as much as her looks turned men's hearts into hope. A muse, a lover or maybe an invitation to a party, the four artists had no choice but to attend.

The story moves forward in a fast tempo of unpredictable romance. Especially when a young woman introduces herself into the menu of love rather than desire. Love is for the young, desire is usually for the old. The mix is tonic or even bitter, but the taste is sweet for men who were born artists and died when they are still living.

A thief of personal memories, his gang and the artists collide. The conflict leads to entanglements that demand that the living act and fight for their possessions and the reaffirmation of their existence, and they do.

Recognize that art is a gift—a gift that takes a lifelong to unwrap. When it is revealed, it is always surprising and astonishing. Sometimes the revelation is dark, disappointing and defeating; still, to be a complete artist one needs to celebrate it, and only then maybe the purpose of life becomes less hazy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Jan 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9780228872306

Izidore K. Musallam

Izidore K. Musallam is an award-winning independent filmmaker based in Toronto. He has written, produced, and directed seven feature films, two of which won international awards: Foreign Nights and Heaven Before I Die. Izidore also wrote and sold numerous feature film screenplays to different producers.Unusual Novel is his first published novel.

Book preview

1

Daniel

The night is falling. Daniel needed a tale to put him to sleep. Though he knows sometimes words mean very little and don’t help much. But now he needed to listen to some words. The words that can cure him. You see he never did fancy life much. Not because his life has been hard, not at all. He found life as either a simple puzzle that seemed easy to solve or a web of complex puzzles that needed a much more superior mind than his.

Suddenly the phone rang. He thought, The words that have been promised are about to be delivered.

Her voice was weak and distant. She said, My mind is aching. Exactly the same pain I had two summers ago, when I thought I was in love with the other man.

Daniel thought for a second. I haven’t gone to bed yet.

What happened? she asked.

In life you have become number two. Not like in my dreams. I am serious. Tell me, are we ever going to have breakfast together?

After a long silence, she said to the receiver, Maybe someday! What if I can’t love you? Would you still remember the first night we met? The night when you sat in front of me and talked about so many other things. Tell me, what did you think then?

But you love me, Daniel moaned, I am in pain.

With a soft and fragile voice, she said, My mother always told me, when you feel like that, think about your grandmother and what she went through.

Your grandmother is far away, in the old country. I am here and the pain is real. Daniel said hoping to bring her back to reality.

In a sad reflective voice, she said, My grandmother is far away but not in the old country.

I am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you by bringing the memory of the dead. Sometimes I am too selfish, forgive me. Daniel felt her breath and fell silent.

Then he collected his strength and asked, Let me touch you. With no hesitation she replied, Touch me if you want. I understand you love me.

Daniel couldn’t fall asleep. He got dressed and left in search of some sort of a solution. He walked the streets of New York City. The city that never sleeps and sometimes goes into coma by the odd riots of people fighting for their rights or people fighting to take the rights from the weak. You see the Brits accused the Natives of being too disorganized. Discipline was their motto. Progress was their intention. Ever since, everybody has been forgotten in the city. The neon lights are fake, and the local TV stations keep on repeating old American movies. Mostly films starring Yankee John Wayne in his heydays.

In developing nations, societies tend to protect their own. Families care for each other, and friends console one another. Here in the new land, Daniel must call upon a therapist to console him. Since it was night and all therapists were beyond therapy or having dinners and eloping with their lovers, he had no one to attend to his need for solace but to call on his imagination. With his unfortunate timing, his imagination was on a one-day sabbatical.

Daniel found himself in the Portuguese area of New York City. He was a bit bewildered and needed a quick refuge. In front of him, a majestic building stood erect. Its doors were made of expensive oak. What do I know? he said to himself. A Portuguese Church, a mishmash of cultural diversity. How can anyone not assimilate, he wondered.

Daniel tried the doors; they were open.

God’s doors are always open to the needy and to his followers.

Daniel dipped his right hand in the bowl of the holy water. He crossed his hands as he was taught.

Suddenly he got stuck. He did not know what came first, the right side or the left side of his chest.

Daniel looked again at the bowl of the holy water, and he noticed it was empty.

He touched his right hand’s fingertips. They were wet!

Daniel trembled with fear. A miracle is about to take place!

Every Saturday morning, before breakfast, his father would drive his brother and him in the city of Reggio Calabria in southern Italy to a derelict old church to pray at the Church of Stella Maris. They were young and ready to believe in anything that was holy. They would sit next to their father for a few moments of silent prayer. Daniel was fascinated with the striking colors of all those paintings of the Virgin, her Angels, and her Son. After the silent prayers, they would follow their father down into a cave and light candles. The candles were some sort of tribute to God and their hope that God does not forget to protect them. Daniel always wondered what happens when the candles die. Would God continue to protect?

Now, Daniel stood waiting for the miracle to happen. On his right hand, he saw a painting hung on the wall. The painting was of an angel, a beautiful woman. Surely it had to be an angel, he thought, he is in a church, what else? Portugal has no queen or a king, then it must be an angel, Daniel wondered aloud. He walked towards the painting and stared. The woman in the painting looked straight into his eyes. Daniel moved a few steps to the right and then a few steps to the left. Her eyes were still focused on him. To double-check he was not daydreaming, Daniel made a few sudden moves in all directions. Still the woman in the painting was directly staring at him.

Daniel was overwhelmed! The next six nights, at the same time, he visited the Portuguese Church and went through the same experience with the woman in the painting.

On the seventh night, early Tuesday morning, Daniel literally sat on a chair in front of the painting and stared back at her.

The woman’s lips moved, in echo-like sound. Slowly and clearly, she said the following words, Your patience is paying off.

Daniel had his moments of insanity but not now. With tears in his eyes he asked, Is it really you talking to me?

That depends on how much you care? she gently responded.

You know I care. I have been visiting you every night, since I discovered you. Daniel was serious.

There is an empty physical space between us, so it is impossible to build a bridge between us, she said it