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  A Glittering Chaos

  PRAISE FOR LISA DE NIKOLITS AND A GLITTERING CHAOS

  A Glittering Chaos is wonderful, dark, witty and wild. Here is a writer who is willing to explore the darkest corners of the human psyche and expose life for all its beauty and depravity. Lisa de Nikolits is a master storyteller who takes the reader on an unforgettable ride that begins with Melusine and her husband, Hans, whose trip to Las Vegas unravels their lives in ways they never would have thought possible. Stories within stories. Poetry. Madness. Illicit love. A city’s power to unleash forgotten selves. The real dangers of trying to get to the truth. A Glittering Chaos has it all. A completely riveting read that will engage the mind, body and spirit.

  —LISA YOUNG, author of When the Earth

  The adage about “what happens in Vegas” is funny precisely because we know it’s wishful thinking. A Glittering Chaos is about what happens when “what happens in Vegas” comes home to haunt you. Melusine is a German librarian whose ho-hum world wobbles after she tags along when her husband Hans attends a Las Vegas optometry conference. A newly empty nester who speaks no English, Melusine’s voyage of self-discovery is punctuated by the poetry of Ingeborg Bachmann, nude photos in the desert, a black dildo named Kurt, autoerotic asphyxia, and the unravelling of her husband’s sanity because of a secret from his youth. Lisa de Nikolits manages to integrate all these surprising pieces into a jigsaw that is a poignant, at times even lyrical, story of sexual coming-of-age, and the sometimes hard price paid for the wisdom of middle-age.

  —BEVERLY AKERMAN, author of The Meaning of Children

  An innocent trip to Las Vegas sparks a series of commissions and revelations that unravel a couple’s deepest beliefs about themselves and each other. Like Madame Bovary before it, A Glittering Chaos illustrates with an expert synthesis of empathy and honesty the ways in which our fantasies can have very real, and potentially devastating, consequences.

  —RICHARD ROSENBAUM, Broken Pencil

  Lisa de Nikolits is a smart, sensitive and adventurous writer, and she pulls out all the stops in her third novel. Sometimes comical, sometimes touching, sometimes outrageous, A Glittering Chaos is a riveting read from start to finish.

  —ROSEMARY McCRACKEN, author of Safe Harbor

  Expertly crafted, this twisted page-turner unfolds against a backdrop of arid desert and tacky pleasure palaces and carries us directly into the eye of a storm called “unrequited love.” From the delicious heights of sexual awakening to the hellish depths of human depravity, A Glittering Chaos sure blasted a hole in my ozone! Call it required reading: You simply won’t be able to put it down.

  —KRISTIN JENKINS, The Anglican Journal

  Filled with intrigue, excitement, anticipation and sexual diversity, A Glittering Chaos grabs its reader from the very beginning. Lisa de Nikolits shines a light on the reality of a family who seems so perfect on the surface. Digging deeper and deeper, de Nikolits takes you on a roller coaster ride of portentous realizations, consummate emotions, deep-seated secrets and sexual relationships spanning from the reckless abandon of a spontaneous affair to the dark recesses of a deranged mind. The biggest problem with A Glittering Chaos is whether to read faster to see what happens next or slow down in order to savor every word.

  —PAM LOFTON, book reviewer and blogger at oneflewovertheemptynest.blogspot.ca

  A Glittering Chaos provides us with just that: a maelstrom of drama, crises, self-doubt, self-discovery, failure, success and much more, against both glamorous and banal backgrounds. The characters are multi-faceted and deep, each struggling to come to terms with their own flaws and weaknesses. It is possible to both despise and adore them in equal measure. As with West of Wawa, Lisa de Nikolits has created a central female character that you cannot help but fall in love with. Melusine has so much about her to make you shake your head in frustration but at the same time want to wrap your arms around her. She’s lovely and lovable, yet frighteningly frustrating. Once again, Lisa de Nikolits proves she is a master at making a reader think and feel from page 1 to the very end.

  —DONNA BROWN, book reviewer and blogger at tweedling.com

  A Glittering Chaos assures de Nikolits of her rightful place in the Literati world. The perfect balance of the Yin Yang of writing shines through in every chapter.

  —BETSY BALEGA, author, Being Mystic, producer/host of Tuning in with Betsy

  In A Glittering Chaos, author Lisa de Nikolits has written a compelling, fast-paced story peopled with vivid characters who surprise and delight the reader. I couldn’t stop reading until I reached the end.

  —CAROLINE CLEMMONS, author of romance, mystery, and adventure

  Copyright © 2013 Lisa de Nikolits

  Except for the use of short passages for review purposes, no part of this book may be reproduced, in part or in whole, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronically or mechanically, including photocopying, recording, or any information or storage retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.

  We gratefully acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council for our publishing program. We also acknowledge the financial support of the Ontario Media Development Organization.

  We are also grateful for the support received from an Anonymous Fund at The Calgary Foundation.

  Cover design: Lisa de Nikolits. Design direction: Jason Logan. Image: Getty Images.

  eBook development: WildElement.ca

  From Malina: A Novel by Ingeborg Bachmann, translated by Philip Boehm. Copyright © 1990 by Holmes & Meier Publishers, Inc. Used with permission by Lynne Rienner Publishers, Inc.

  All poems from Darkness Spoken by Ingeborg Bachmann. Copyright © 1978 by Piper Verlag GmbH, München for all poems taken from Gesammelte Werke, Bd. I Geditchte. Copyright © 2000 by Piper Verlag GmbH, München for all poems taken from Ich wieiß keine bessere Welt. Translation Copyright © 2006 by Peter Filkins. Used with permission by Zephyr Press.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  de Nikolits, Lisa, 1966—

  A glittering chaos / Lisa de Nikolits.

  (Inanna poetry and fiction series)

  Also issued in electronic format.

  ISBN 978-1-926708-92-8

  I. Title. II. Series: Inanna poetry and fiction series

  PS8607.E63G55 2013 C813’.6 C2013-901783-6

  Printed and bound in Canada

  Inanna Publications and Education Inc.

  210 Founders College, York University

  4700 Keele Street, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M3J 1P3

  Telephone: (416) 736-5356 Fax: (416) 736-5765

  Email: [email protected] Website: www.inanna.ca

  A Glittering Chaos

  a novel by

  Lisa de Nikolits

  INANNA PUBLICATIONS AND EDUCATION INC.

  TORONTO, CANADA

  ALSO BY LISA DE NIKOLITS

  West of Wawa (2011)

  The Hungry Mirror (2010)

  To Bradford Dunlop

  and the red rocks of the Nevada desert.

  Contents

  One

  1.

  2.

  3.

  4.

  5.

  6.

  7.

  8.

  9.

  10.

  11.

  12.

  13.

  14.

  15.

  Two

  16.

  17.

  18.

  19.

  20.

  21.

  22.

  23.

  24.

  25.

  26.

  Three

  27.

>   28.

  29.

  30.

  31.

  Four

  32.

  33.

  34.

  35.

  36.

  37.

  38.

  Five

  39.

  40.

  41.

  42.

  43.

  44.

  Six

  45.

  46.

  Acknowledgements

  Poems and quotes

  Website sources

  Other Sources

  One

  carefree, be carefree

  1.

  THE MAN IS SAYING SOMETHING incomprehensible to Melusine. She is trapped in a hotel elevator in Vegas with a man pointing at her breasts and repeating something she cannot understand.

  “German,” she says, and she shakes her head. “German.”

  The man nods and carries on talking.

  Melusine looks at him. He is waving his arms around as if his gestures might make his meaning more apparent.

  She is so close to him she can smell his fruity chewing gum and she backs away as much as she can, hugging the tightly-wrapped bath towel to her chest with folded arms, and wishing once again that the hotel offered robes but the sprawling low-slung hacienda is just a three-star budget resort, tucked way off the Strip, up near the Mandalay Bay Hotel.

  Melusine knows how far Hans has to travel to get down to the Convention Center and she cannot help but wonder if he deliberately chose a hotel at the opposite end to the conference after she insisted on joining him.

  “Vegas will bore you,” he had said, trying to dissuade her from coming. “You don’t speak English, you won’t understand what’s going on, and you’ll be bored.”

  “Nonsense. I don’t know much about Vegas, but I do know that no one’s ever bored there.”

  He shrugged. “As you wish. I’ll change the reservations. Really, Melusine, you’re so restless and unsettled lately. But if you think coming to Vegas will make you feel better, then fine.”

  And now she is in Vegas, alone in an elevator alongside a smiling gesticulating man.

  The elevator door opens, and she rushes out to the swimming pool, noticing that the area is already crowded and that the other bathers have large blue and white striped towels; hers is the only bath towel. Maybe that’s what the man was trying to tell her; he had not been interested in her breasts or in trying to have sex with her.

  She laughs at the thought and settles down in her deck chair. She can’t imagine anyone wanting to have sex with her.

  She stretches out and takes stock of her body. Her legs are long, her breasts are full and firm, and she has managed to dodge the usual afflictions of age; her skin is unblemished and smooth. But none of this is about her body; it is her mind that’s been causing her all kinds of concerns; her mind that has become so unruly of late.

  She had tried to blame her unsettling discontent on the recent death of her parents and she’d also considered that her shiny new knife-edged tone was due to Jonas’s departure, but none of it rang true in pinpointing the true source of her malaise.

  Shortly before learning of the Vegas trip, standing in her kitchen and making the final preparations for a dinner party, she had acknowledged that her frustrations were not that easily explained away.

  At work, earlier that day, she had taken a moment for herself among the quiet stacks of books in the library, and she had thought about those published works, questioning what she had to show for her life. She, who had dreamt of being a writer, poet or even madly, a philosopher, could only say that she had been a good daughter, an attentive, loving mother and a reproachless wife.

  Ingeborg? Old friend, I near the age at which you died. And look what you had achieved. You know I’d never be so bold, or so foolish as to categorize myself alongside you but still, we both thought I’d achieve more? Even you thought I’d achieve so much more?

  There was no reply.

  Talk to me. Please, talk to me.

  “You always do things so beautifully.” A woman came into the kitchen and complimented her and Melusine smiled politely. Was this the answer to the questions that had been plaguing her? That she created beauty and order where she could?

  “Your house is so perfect and you’re such a great cook,” the woman continued. “You’re the envy of all of us. And your pastries are to die for. You could open a coffee shop, they’re that good.”

  Melusine wondered if the woman had somehow read her mind. The list of her life’s achievements was being offered at exactly the right time.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I do love cooking. Baking in particular.”

  “And Jonas, off to university. Do you miss him?”

  “I feel as if I’ve lost a limb,” Melusine started to say and then realized it would embarrass her to reveal that much to this casual acquaintance. “Not as much as I thought I would,” she said, instead.

  “That’s good. It means that your life is full and rich and you’re happy.”

  “Well, Jonas has always been so independent,” Melusine said, feeling the need to justify something although she wasn’t sure what. And she wanted to object and say that she wasn’t happy at all, and that the woman couldn’t be more wrong.

  She discouraged further conversation by opening the oven and testing the venison. “Hans?” she called out. “Has your wine got enough oxygen into its system yet?”

  It was an old joke between them.

  “I would say just about, yes,” Hans replied, his voice rising to be heard above the chit-chat.

  Melusine carried the dishes through to the dining room and served dinner. She felt absent from the entire evening, dislocated, until she heard Hans say something about an upcoming trip to Las Vegas. It was the first she’d heard of it.

  “Have you been before?” one of the men asked Hans.

  “No. I’ve never understood the appeal but the conference looks topnotch, all the latest high-refraction lenses will be on display and I’ve been invited to give a talk.”

  “You’ll come back a slot machine millionaire,” one of the guests teased, “and never work a day in your life again!”

  Hans pursed his lips. “The only thing on my mind will be business. I won’t have any time for frivolities.”

  “You know what they say,” the same man commented, “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. You could get up to all kinds of mischief and we’d be none the wiser.”

  “Not my style,” Hans retorted. “Now, you on the other hand…” His expression suggested all kinds of mayhem and the group around the table laughed.

  “Melusine,” another man said, turning towards her, “what extraordinary confection do you have in store for our dessert tonight?”

  “Just a simple Apple Walnut Bundt cake,” Melusine apologized but her words were met with enthusiasm.

  “That’s one of my favourites of yours,” one of the other men said.

  “I told her, she could open a bakery or a coffee shop,” the woman who’d been talking to Melusine in the kitchen piped up.

  Hans snorted. “She studied Philosophy, Art and German Literature so she could be a baker? I don’t think so.”

  “You’re right,” Melusine said, getting up and gathering plates. “It’s much better that I check out library books and chase overdue fines instead.”

  The group laughed and Melusine went to make coffee and get the cake.

  Later that night she loaded the dishwasher and tidied up.

  She heard Hans come into the kitchen and she spoke to his reflection in the window, rather than turn around to face him.

  “I’m coming to Las Vegas with you,” she said, and she noticed that she wasn’t asking.

  She watched his reflection stiffen.

  “You’ll be bored,” he said. “And I won’t have time to entertain you. You’ll be on your own. I’m going for nearly a week. You won’t find enough things to do and I’ll have to worry about you.
And besides, what about Mimi?”

  Mimi was Han’s beloved black Riesenschnauzer. Jonas had begged his parents for a puppy for years and Hans had finally given in, telling the boy he could have a dog for his seventh birthday. But then Hans had fallen in love with Mimi and taken the lead in appropriating her affection.

  “We can put her in a kennel. Or one of your friends could take her. Or Jonas can look after her; I know he’d love to. There are lots of solutions. But I’m coming with you, so get used to the idea.”

  She looked at the reflection of her husband’s resigned face and then at her own flushed countenance. Hans turned and left the room and Melusine, still watching her own face against the blackened mirror of the night, saw her shoulders straighten slightly and the hint of a smile appear in her eyes.

  2.

  ON THE PLANE to Las Vegas, with Hans fast asleep beside her, Melusine felt a triumphant sense of accomplishment that she was there at all.

  I step outside of myself, out of my eyes, hands, mouth, outside of myself I step.

  She loved everything about the flight; the tiny oval window with the view of cotton clouds below, the neat little containers of food and she even loved the wine that Hans deemed worse than vinegar.

  Melusine felt as if all her senses were heightened and the world seemed exciting again, in a way that it hadn’t since she was a teenager with her veins filled with the rush of amphetamines and her heart ready to explode.

  They arrived at midday and from the minute the plane landed, Melusine loved Las Vegas. She immediately wanted to go out and explore. Hans wanted to unpack, have a nap and work on his presentation.

  “Well, I’m going out,” Melusine said.

  “Wait,” Hans stopped her. He took out a map. He circled where they were and showed her how to get to the Strip from their hotel. He gave her a hundred dollars.

  “But I brought my own money.”

  “Let me treat you,” he replied with a lopsided smile she had once found so endearing. “A man’s allowed to give his wife a treat.”