{Excerpted from the short story Melancholia Hypochondriaca, by John Holliday, forthcoming in SR 55/56.}
Rumor has it that Alex Sweeting recorded Ulysses with only two 30-minute breaks, four glasses of water, and one stick of celery. This rumor is not true. But it is true that the New York Times has recently named Alex Sweeting “most melodious narrative voice” for the fifth consecutive year, and that he, Alex Sweeting, is close to wrapping up his most anticipated and monumental recording to date, that he’s physically in the studio, working through the heart of the Bible’s last book, chapter 14 to be exact, his eye-muscles moving with awesome coordination and grace, scanning verse 19, speaking with acoustic clarity, “So the angel swung his sickle to the earth and gathered the clusters from the vine of the earth, and threw them into the great wine press of the wrath of God.” The real amazing thing is that since, through this sickle and wrath business, the voice of Alex Sweeting remains tender and dulcet and more than worthy of its New York Times name, this sickle and wrath business itself is oddly tender and soothing, which is one of the reasons Hachette AudioBooks productive supervisor Walter Plankinton strongly believes this recording is going to bring the world to its emotional knees, is going to put Gregory Peck, Charlton Heston, Luke Perry, Max McLean, Alexander Scourby, Eric Martin, Ronnie Meek, Buck Ford, Stephen Johnston, James Earl Jones, Heavy D, Sinbad, LL Cool J, Denzel Washington, Forest Whitaker, Angela Bassett, Cuba Gooding Jr., Blair Underwood, Samuel L. Jackson, and the whole damn Inspired By…The Bible Experience cast, including the Prague Symphony Orchestra, put them all to shame.
And if Walter is any representation of the average human being—and he likes to think he is—his prediction is very much on target. This doesn’t mean it’s not all extremely confusing, that after 417 hours of listening to Alex Sweeting read, Walter can explain how fire and brimstone sounds so beautiful, or why ancestral lists are so riveting, that Walter isn’t absolutely baffled, that he can get anywhere beyond a blurby response, something like “the Bible simply becomes something altogether different in Alex Sweeting’s hands,” which is all he’s been able to muster when asking himself how or why, a fact that has begun to piss him off, severely. But now’s not the time for being pissed or entertaining any questions; now’s the time for total auditory engagement, for monitoring levels, checking noise, and yielding to the voice of Alex Sweeting. And when it comes time to yield, Walter Plankinton has no problem giving himself over to the sweet diction ofNew York Times’ most melodious narrative voice, and, in fact, has to make sure he doesn’t give to the point where he’s no longer paying attention to what’s being said, to what words are literally coming out of Alex Sweeting’s mouth, where the levels become pretty lights and noise doesn’t exist, where the acute auditory sense that got Walter Plankinton on this job is rendered useless, not able to even discern when Alex Sweeting has stopped reading and is addressing Walter personally, as was the case a few days ago when Alex Sweeting wanted a tad more light and all Walter heard was euphony, or just yesterday when Alex Sweeting verbally swore they were getting some structure-borne noise and Walter’s response was a somewhat disturbing look of ecstasy, or right now when Alex Sweeting is feeling the chill of fall and would like the temperature raised two or three degrees or so and Walter eerily hasn’t blinked, let alone raised an arm or made any motion toward the thermostat, signaling that he must have missed that point between pissed and paralyzing rapture, the one he was explaining to Alex after the structure-borne noise incident, meaning Alex could try not speaking at all and wait for Walter Plankinton to snap out of it, or get up, exit the sound booth, and physically snap him out of it. Either way, Alex’s narrative rhythm and concentration will be thrown out of major whack. By the time the temperature is adjusted and Alex gets settled and refocused, fifteen minutes will have gone by minimum, which will be slightly annoying, since it’s nearing the end of the scheduled day, and consequently nearing Alex’s appointment at The Chicago Voice Center. Plus, Alex is feeling a little worn out. And if any part of these last eight chapters isn’t strong, they’ll probably cut the session short anyway. Not to mention that it’s not good to use a larynx worn out to any degree. So Alex does get up, exit the sound booth, and nudge Walter Plankinton, but he also calls it a day, exits the studio and heads down Congress Parkway, perfectly content with The Voice Center’s complete library of The Journal of Voice if they can’t get him in early, leaving Walter Plankinton pissed and residually rapt, a new and terribly complex combination of emotions that’s blowing this production supervisor’s mind.
