CONTENT WARNING: This piece contains themes of alcoholism, addiction and drug use.

A State of Decoherence

Erasure of Dark Matter by Blake Crouch (Penguin Random House, 2016)

Book pages and back cover, archival tape, and cardstock

Transcript:

[NOTE: After the phrase “Bottle of wine,” all text is scattered across the page, sometimes overlapping. There is rarely a correct order in which to read these words and phrases, only a general sensation of unraveling into incoherent chaos. The exception is a square border of text in the center of the page that reads one drink turns into two, which turns into the world spinning and turning itself inside out. “Have you taken any drugs or alcohol tonight?” My stomach lurches. I feel impossibly heavy. In the middle of the square are six words cut from the book’s neon red-orange back cover, white letters in all caps: “ARE YOU HAPPY WITH YOUR LIFE?”]

One night, this man goes to a bar

He crosses to the bar and climbs onto the empty stool He calls the bartender over. “It’s not that I’m not happy all I want is a glass of wine. Plastic cups filled to the brim with beer. foam spilling down the sides. Wine.” a drink?” the whiff of alcohol The smell of red wine. the smell of malt a drink—two drinks, world-class Scotch, Champagne? bottle of Tempranillo. Bottle of wine. Bottle of something. We watch her pull a pint from the tap the bar and bring over the glass I drink a second beer, and then a third. He grabs my arm. “Whatever he’s drinking.” “Doubles. My tab.” We order cocktails. Then wine. “We’re drinking the best tonight.” we just feel like drinking wine then whisky, the bar You hold an empty wineglass, streaked with the dregs of a red. Macallan Twenty-Five Champagne. Share a beer Drinking. a glass of pinot noir. I ask for a beer, take a sip of wine my corner bar the bar We take our scotches wine the bar He drinks He drinks I order a beer Some wine I drink my whisky I try not to have a drink acknowledge how delicious it is being in a bar. The pleasant buzz from the beer a new bottle, second wine bottle bar Macallan 12s [the bar] holding a bottle I sip my drink beer lukewarm beer, my beer. drink whiskies my local bar beer She’s radiant, holding a glass of red wine in one hand Her breath is wine-sweet, “We should open more wine, right?” drinks, bottle of wine, my local bar, “This is my local bar.” The bar I remember how the wine had stained your lips. You had whisky all the bars. the bar wineglass. she lifts her wineglass empty wineglass wineglass a new glass of wine I finish my whisky. “Thanks for the drink.” “Want to start a tab?” the pleasant buzz from the beer a new bottle, second wine bottle bar good reason to drink a lot of wine I finish mine. my corner bar dive bar From a heavy rocks glass, I sip the dregs of a single malt, the bar the remnants of the bar whatever whisky he’s been drinking they’ve both been drinking. The wine- the bar my local bar. buzzed I polish off my glass The bar I stand on the deck, sipping a Corona-and-lime, He finishes his beer buzzed I say, “Feel like a nightcap?” I’m drunk, the bar, you are drunk, in something of a fog. I finish off my drink, eyes are glassy, wine. The bar good and goddamn buzzed, I’m drunk. eyes are glassy the bar The bar liquor wafts off them I drink an entire pint of J&B. you take the glass out of my hand drunk the beer, the wine, drunk traces of alcohol the alcohol a little drunk, drunk. the booze “You guys are wasted.” bar beer. Wine I wasn’t thinking beer red wine pub crumpled beer cans wine. our drinks our drinks my wine, beer the bar, the bar the alcohol is traveling too fast I’m so drunk I can feel my pulse beating I hurl the night’s wine and Scotch beer wine “Exactly how much did you drink

“I’m fine.”

Artist Statement:

Dark Matter is a science fiction novel that asks big questions about the choices we make and their consequences. As a person in recovery who has loved people with substance abuse issues, I was struck by the author’s seemingly unconscious obsession with drinking. Alcohol seeps into Crouch’s dystopian hellscapes and high-security prison cells, his deathbed monologues and family dinners—a saturation that feels all too familiar.

My intention with this piece is to foreground what can so often be obscured from one’s readers, one’s family, and oneself. The wall of text presented here represents most mentions of alcohol and drinking in the book, but not all. There was simply not enough room.

You can find Kate over on Instagram, her website, or give their Substack newsletter a subscribe!