Gas Station Carnivals

[Nemonymous]

GAS STATION CARNIVALS – As we proceed from the Purple to the Crimson Woman, and further paranoia concerning the reality of our own motives excellently conveyed by this classic story of both Horror and Absurdity and by entwining Narrations of Night Club and Sideshow and by deeper Sideshows of meaning (fitting for our world of Credit Crunch entertainment-seediness or of ‘The Swords’ by Robert Aickman), we simultaneously know by means of Magic Fiction (“art-magic delusion”) rather than the more common form of literature often known as Magic Realism that Gas Station Carnivals (described by Quisser as an archteypical reality we can’t avoid) actually do exist (even if they don’t).
A miniature Ferris Wheel no taller than a bungalow-house (as the story describes) and, having lived in a genuine bungalow-house since 1995 (with two bedrooms in the roof with dormer eyes), I feel guilty as if I’m a brazen Showman. A writer should surely not be such a Showman but, rather, a Monk (like MG Cardin’s Monk not MG Lewis's Monk!) selflessly intent upon close-ordered textual exegesis. I must now return onward, with some trepidation, to that very story, The Bungalow House....
“And any room that I enter may become a sideshow tent where I must take my place upon a rickety old bench on the verge of collapse.”