Black Hole
Burn’s Black Hole is chock full of imagery. The “Cook Out” section begins with a full-page image of a sharp stick. On the opposite page, Rob’s full nude form is exposed as he stands in a campfire, smoke billowing around him. On the following page, the first image is of a dripping sausage, held over the campfire, pierced brutally by the a sharp stick. The hole that forms around the stick that impales the sausage calls to mind more gruesome images from earlier in the book—the dissected frog for instance. These images, the stick, Rob’s penis, and the sausage are all unquestionably phallic (none very subtle, but one more obvious than the others…). But what is the meaning of such images? The sausage remains in at least every other frame for a page and a half, never looking very appealing. It withers and seems to shrink as it is held over the fire. The sweat from being held over the flame looks like slime, and on second glance, very clearly like sperm. Perhaps Burns uses these simultaneously sexual and disturbing images to comment on how the disease has made sex a disgusting act.
The group of infected people gathered around the campfire is also wretched. Outcast by society, they must fend for themselves, although they aren’t doing too well. They are running out of food and begin to snap at each other. After the discovery of what seemed to be a dismembered human arm, the crew is also constantly on edge. “Shhh! There’s someone out there! I heard them! Gimme the club!” In the half-page the five faces contain more sadness than fear. Lucky for them, it’s only Rob. The ensuing conversation reads like a ghost story, accompanied by eerily suitable art. Stressed dialogue packed with fearful questions, supplemented by Blair Witch Project-esque campfire close-ups build tension.
In just a few pages, we learn a lot about Rob’s relationship with Lisa’s relationship, and a lot about the tension and fear that these infected teens are living with. Rob describes to the group Lisa’s conflict with her parents.
“… I think she’s starting to lose it […] she’s been telling everyone she burned [her hands]… keeps’ em wrapped up in bandages, but…”
“…but how long can she keep that up, right?”
“right, her parents are starting to ask a whole lot of questions”
This dialogue draws attention to the marring effect the infection has—and the tensions that arise when trying to live a normal life. The rest of the group at the campfire listen intently, and continue to ask questions.
“How ‘bout the mouth? Any changes? Getting’ any worse or…”
“JESUS! What IS this? I just got through with Lisa giving me the third degree and now YOU guys! JESUS!” Rob snaps unexpectedly.
“It’s nothing… we just haven’t seen you for a while…”
“Yeah, relax… we’re on your side.”
We’ve all seen this conflict occur in movies and books from all time periods. A group of people, outcast by the majority are pushed to the brink and begin to turn on one another. Burns accentuates this tension with his coloring of the faces, casting dark shadows under the eyes of each member of the group. Further, Burns does such a careful job of creating believable dialogue. We can relate to the characters in their fears, anxieties, and urges. Such realism is compelling, but also disconcerting in a book filled with revolting images.
Well, it’s not just phallic imagery. It’s a castration narrative too. And it means more that Rob is marked for death, that he’s not going to make it out of this alive.
Black Hole’s contagion is a metaphor for loneliness, I think. I once felt sure it was adulthood, and that may work also or in tandem–neither has a ‘cure’, except self-acceptance and love and…death. The first two, we see that in the relationship Keith forms with Eliza. The death we see come for the others. Otherwise, we just live with it.
The juxtaposition you speak of in describing the dialogue, of how the realistic and the creepy are side by side, well, that works to make the creepy parts more real–if the dialogue weren’t as familiar, we’d reject the whole thing. But the familiar parts give us something of a handrail to make it through. This is speculative fiction at its best, taking us into our world by asking “what if it was like this?” and then playing it out to the end.