Instructions for a Séance with Vladimirs

by Terrance Hayes | Illustrated by Kristina Micotti

Originally published in Issue 05 of Manor House Quarterly: IDOL

Feeble Heart, Beware: do not contact the spirits ill prepared.

1. The dead are lonely. Symptoms include a faint witchcraft, a boom bap, some clap-trap played in a parallel room. I’m thinking of “Self Destruction” performed by the Stop the Violence All-Stars. “I am too tough to die.” This is the motto of the dead when they are alive.
2. We are lonely. Our symptoms include: talking alone, dancing alone and making love alone at least once a day. The symptoms of loneliness it is possible evidence a metaphysical hunger. The mouth on your navel is your own. You sprawl on a two-dimensional floor weeping. Your life is a series of unacknowledged sacrifices. (Only ghosts understand this.)

Invite as many open-minded Vladimirs as possible for they are like magnets attracting the Vladimirs who are dead. Vladimirs with 80’s styled haircuts will attract top-hat Vladimirs. Vladimir the plumber will attract Vladimir the swimmer. Change your name to Vladimir.

What you want is a Vladimir brigade. A mirror of the living reflecting the dead and visa versa. In the towering dusk, groaning and brushing Vladimirs. To overcome the cold one must conjure the supernatural world.

I changed my name to Vladimir and we talked. I got the feeling of water underfoot. A version of vertigo. To overcome hunger you must swallow without biting. I wanted to drink, yes. So I changed my name to Vladimir. I like most people named Vladimir.

The action should take place in a provincial room. The action should take place in a winter barn. The action should take place in an elevator. Do not put nails on the roads or stairs. Do not put dirt in the gasoline tanks or punch.

Letís say youíve gone back in time. The action should take place among the unwieldy entourages of the Grand Prince Vladimir in a time of plague, pneumonia, paranoia, intellectual starvation, spiritual exhaustion, pratfalls, missteps. It should be twelve oíclock noon; five soldiers should pass the house rapidly. The exact speed of light in a vacuum is roughly 300,000,000 meters per second.

1. A CIRCULAR TABLE:
   Around which the skulls shall faint and float backwards with the skeleton of momentum and the gaping jaws and the clinging teeth, the little red heart beating center stage. A circular route of negative and positive transgressions. A means of disappearance and peace.
2. CANDLES
   Let your tar-shaped shadow stretch over the stack of Vladimir’s books. Never read by candlelight, by the way. I didnít say sunlight. Moonlight. Fire. Your tar-shaped shadow, that double exposure. Burn red candles if you desire Vladimir in a halo of warplanes. Burn borrowed candles if you desire a Vladimir with a beautiful gangrene gaze. Break a single candle sick and burn each half if you desire the presence a bald old mug-shot Vladimir.
3. INCENSE
   Cinnamon provides energy and lures cats to the window; Frankincense expands consciousness and aids in meditation; Sandalwood grounds the participants and helps them to stay focused. Beware: there is such a thing as too much symbolism.
4. MUSIC
   “Self obstruction, you headed for self abstraction.” I’m sick of that song. Play some Vladimir Padwa, it will impress your guests. Maybe his “Tom Sawyer”concerto for two pianos. Or maybe play a DJ Vlad (Vladimir Lyubovny) mashup mixtape remix.
5. TAPE/VIDEO RECORDER
   A man in one of the windows outside your house will be watching you.

If you can find your way to Russia’s red light districts of distraction tall with vodka and smitten, look for the women cooing “ooooh” in dark paneled cam rooms, safe-housed and exhausted enough to channel Death. Look for the woman lifting an uncoupled breast to the camera in a room without windows. If you hear the mechanical hum of the soul seeping out of her body, she’s the medium you should use.

Begin by joining hands with the people on either side of you and closing your eyes. (A certain nobility is implicit in saying what I don’t believe and hoping you believe it.) No door will open without creaking. Drugs help and are easy to use, but hard to acquire. I have two hands and they are not as similar as they seem.

• VLADIMIR COUNTING PAPERCLIPS
• VLADIMIR DRIVING A NIGHT ROAD IN A WIND STORM
• VLADIMIR DREAMING OF ARROWS
• VLADIMIR READING A BOOK ABOUT FLYING
• VLADIMIR AT THE FOOT OF A MOUNTAIN
• VLADIMIR IN A TIME MACHINE
• VLADIMIR IN A STEEL MILL
• VLADIMIR EAVESDROPPING ON CHEKOV AND ARISTOTLE
• VLADIMIR LEANING ON A TELEPHONE POLE
• VLADIMIR AS A MATRYOSHKA NESTING DOLL
• VLADIMIR WITH A GUN IN HIS MOUTH
• VLADIMIR HAUNTING YOUR MOTHER

Six hours later Vladimir might say Hello. [Vladimir’s voice is thin and breathless as though he has just run up a steep flight of stairs.] The light on Vladimir is thick and elegiac. You are, indeed, in the company of the dead and chatting with the dead.

[Enter Vladimir in a trench coat. He fishes in his pockets for something removing assorted articles: a beer bottle, a wrist watch, ticket stubs, at least half a dozen keys, a drum stick, eyeglasses, a tube of toothpaste. When his pockets are empty, he removes the coat and scratches his head, pondering in the nude.]

Vladimir may appear to have been drinking. The glow of his jaws may suggest he has a burning light bulb in his mouth. A little red ribbon of blood may run down his forehead like a little red ribbon.

Some Vladimirs may come with props and predisposed poses. Nabokov, for example, may open his mouth to reveal a beautiful trembling butterfly. Tretchikoff may come wearing a kimono and makeup. Chertkov might insist you call him Leo Tolstoy, his spiritual twin. Refusing to speak plainly, Lenin will likely sing his news and conjectures. “Capitalism lives on the witless blood of the young,” he will likely sing in a gruff operatic falsetto.

• What do l love and why should I love?
• Who do I know named Vladimir and who will care to hear about Vladimir?
• Will touch be necessary in the future?
• If the chief faith of my people is the chief business of my people, what is the chief flaw of my people?
• If the chief obsession of my people is the chief business of my people, what will be the chief downfall of my people?
• What is the meaning of meaning?

(The answers of the Vladimirs may be varied, imaginative and occasionally indecipherable.)

If the séance is going well, invite the ghost into your body. It will be akin to being a two-headed, one-manned proletariat. You will be tired people. It will be like being asleep and hating to sleep. Like trying to hear one’s self snore loudly. When a little more time has passed, you will experience a wonderful futuristic mood. You will be born in a state longing for life.

AVOID SUMMONING MULTIPLE GHOST VLADIMIRS

They will agree on nothing:

Vladimir #1: I remember like it was now.
Vladimir #2: No, it’s me who remembers like it was now!
Vladimir #3: You remember like it was now, but I remember like it was before.
Vladimir #4: But I remember like it was before like it was now.
Vladimir #5: I remember how it was even before that, a long, long time ago!
Vladimir #6: I remember how it was before and like it was now!

AVOID SUMMONING TOO MANY LIVING VLADIMIRS

I’ll tell you what happened to me: Morning after the last séance, I woke to the chatter of four or five dozen living Vladimirs. Suits in the varied colors of smoke and leaves at the tail end of autumn, long hair, no hair, black, white, gray men, a few curious adolescent boys and even a pump potato-skinned babushka and her granddaughter namesake: the Vladimiras, named after the grandmother’s father who was there as well encased in the small tin foil frame the old woman carried. Yes, I told her, you may sit for a portrait and later I drew her holding her father’s picture to her chest like a certificate of birth. I began with a vine charcoal and thought for a moment it should remain in that medium: a series of smudged lines symbolizing Babushka-Vladimira’s mortality — a contradiction in image given her girth, her husky gypsy voice. One of the veteran Vladimirs waiting outside my studio heard her chuckle and swore I was in the company of a chain-smoking soldier newly returned from war. He stepped into the room looking for the source of the laughter. Embarrassed he later told me how many friends he’d lost to war. I painted him in green and blue brushstrokes, focusing primarily on how intently he focused on the floor. I finished two or three portraits an hour for eight or nine hours straight that day. To give everyone the same eye color, I mixed a shade akin to water when a fish flashes beneath it. You know how in love I am with the dead, but, my goodness, when Vladimira the granddaughter of Vladimira, the babushka, settled before my easel, she emitted the strange pink heat that cannot be captured in paint. She removed her blouse I did not breathe. The portraits have all been destroyed. And truly, I prefer mythological Vladimirs — they take up much less space.

If, for any reason, things start to get out of control quickly beg the spirit to go in peace, then break the circle of hands, extinguish the candles and turn on the lights. As the sun rises, there is a chance you’ll find a Vladimir huddled in the tub upstairs. His hands and feet may hang over the sides. Tragic people are theatrical. Theatrical people are tragic. You or one of your guests should declare: “I’m all even with life!” and you all should then abruptly head outdoors.

Vladimir means “to rule the world.” Vladimir means to give meaning to the world. Consequently, venerable vehement Vladimirs may continue to appear. Violent, vagabond, vandal Vladimirs. Or virtuoso Vladimirs. Virtuous Vladmirs. Kidnapped, mummified, gift-wrapped, bitch slapped, riff-raff Vladimirs. I do not know what will happen. Vladimir may appear in a clean shaven, psychotic visage. Bald as a cloud of trousers. Dead he may wish to be dead again.

*COLLAPSED LYRICS OF A SÉANCE

FEEBLE HEART BEWARE / THE DEAD ARE LONELY / A FAINT WITCHCRAFT AGAINST DEATH/ SELF DESTRUCTION PERFORMED BY STARS/ I AM TOO TOUGH TO DIE/ WE ARE LONELY/ OUR SYMPTOMS INCLUDE METAPHYSICAL HUNGER/ THE MOUTH ON YOUR NAVEL IS YOUR OWN/ A TWO-DIMENSIONAL WEEPING/ A SERIES OF UNACKNOWLEDGED SACRIFICES/ A MIRROR IN THE TOWERING DUSK GROANING AND BRUSHING/ ONE MUST CONJURE CHANGE/ I HAVE CHANGED / FACE A PROVINCIAL ROOM/ A WINTER /LET’S SAY YOU’VE GONE BACK IN TIME/ PLAGUE PNEUMONIA PARANOIA INTELLECTUAL STARVATION SPIRITUAL EXHAUSTION PRATFALLS MISSTEPS/ IT SHOULD BE TWELVE O’CLOCK/ FIVE SOLDIERS SHOULD PASS THE SPEED OF LIGHT/ NEGATIVE AND POSITIVE TRANSGRESSIONS/ A MEANS OF DISAPPEARANCE/ CANDLES THAT DOUBLE EXPOSURE/ THERE IS SUCH A THING AS TOO MUCH SYMBOLISM/ DISTRACTION COOING IN A DARK PANELED ROOM/ AN UNCOUPLED BREAST WITHOUT WINDOWS/ AND THE MECHANICAL SOUL/ A CERTAIN NOBILITY IS IMPLICIT/ I HAVE TWO HANDS AND THEY ARE NOT AS SIMILAR AS THEY SEEM/ THE GLOW SUGGESTS A BURNING A BEAUTIFUL TREMBLING BLOOD/ WHAT DO I LOVE AND WHY SHOULD I/ WHO DO I KNOW AND WHO WILL CARE TO BE UNNECESSARY/ INVITE THE GHOST INTO YOUR BODY/ TIRED PEOPLE/ A WONDERFUL FUTURISTIC MOOD/ BE BORN LIKE IT WAS NOW/ BEFORE LIKE IT WAS NOW/ EVEN BEFORE THAT/ I REMEMBER NOW LIKE IT WAS NOW/ THE CHATTER OF SMOKE AND LEAVES/ AND NAMESAKE AND MORTALITY AND BRUSH STROKES/ BENEATH A NAME / THE NAME AS THE SUN RISES/ EVEN WITH LIFE/ MEANING WORLD/ V V VA/ I DO NOT KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN/ A CLOUD MAY WISH TO BE DEAD AGAIN