Ampersand
Gerard/Mikey
One-shot
AU'd all to fuck. Set in a parallel universe where, instead of starting a band, Gerard turns to writing. Rated PG except for one instance of the word "fuck" but I bet this is not new to most of my readers, huh! Written for fanfic100, prompt #83: "and".
2,347 words
Written April 25, 2006
An Analysis of the Long Poem "And", by Gerard Way
(A student essay by John Zampano, written in 2012 for a freshman poetry course at Columbia. The following excerpts were found, with excessive red-pen scribbles in the margins, in the back of a collection of poetry from the Columbia library. The author of the poetry, of course, was one Gerard Way - a semiobscure poet/prose writer who emerged in the wake of September 11. Way is largely unnotable, save one interesting fact: all his books are published with color centerplates featuring his own illustrations, created to mirror his pieces. Zampano, who dropped the poetry course after two and a half months, failed to note this entirely. The editor suspects there is an important reason Zampano dropped out.)
... The first thing most students notice about 'And', of course, is the lack of capitals. This is not a new nuance for poetry, let alone for Way. Yet it becomes more interesting when one considers what appears, at first, to be a typographical error:
and in atlantic nights lit up
with fireflies, We kissed.
Upon more careful inspection, however, the reader begins to see it is quite deliberate: amazing as it may seem, nowhere else in the poem does Way use the word 'we'. Yes, 'us' occurs quite frequently - but 'we' only once. And it is capitalized. Upon finding this, the reader begins to see the true depth of the love behind the poem. For Way, he and the object are ordinary things alone; together, they are The Pronoun. They are the most vital, important thing in the entire poem. This is a subtlety rare in Way's other work - he is, ultimately, a man famous for his shock-value writing - yet upon considering the subject it seems quite logical. Way's other works are written with joy and amusement, but none have been written with such love. It is this - and only this - that has earned the fierce attention to detail so characteristic of 'And'. ...
… For being such a long poem, it's interesting that 'And' seems, at first, to lack any real narrative save the descriptions of love. There is no epic quality to 'And'. It is ultimately nothing more than a long poem; the lovers are the only characters, and they fail to interact with their world in any vital way, save those that offer a description of love, such as the following:
driving down the crossection
of greenwood and briar, eating candy hearts
stolen from the 7-11,
wheels spinning like our kickstarted hearts
While there is a distinct world to 'And' - there are streets and stores - there is no real plot to that world. It exists in a void. This, then, leads one to question the text more directly: instead of focusing on mere plot, as is often the case with stories or epic poems, the reader is forced to investigate nuances of meaning. More, the reader must question the intent behind the piece itself - what Way means by love.
(A question far deeper than this essay can cover, certainly. Way's conception of 'love' is something unique. Something, 'And' seems to suggest, deeply personal - no matter how we try to dig at it, ultimately, there will always be references we cannot comprehend. Consider the following lines:
and the frosting we ate,
the color of your friend
ray's blankets on his bed, the color
of the tattoo you wanted
that you told me about
when the sun set on radios quoting che
As much as we can infer what some of the stanza means, ultimately, it is an event none but these two have ever experienced. No one can know that definition of love - save the lovers.) …
… What startles most students of Way's writing, upon reading 'And', is that it is his only poem which has absolutely no overarching theme, save the subject itself. There is no thread running through the piece. Way skips from metaphor to metaphor, playing with distinctly clashing images. Consider the following passage:
there's sugar in your teeth.
bite down and let it seep
into my veins like pale heroin.
i'm scared of needles
but you are something sweeter than pain.
(From the second stanza, lines 23-27.) Way distinctly relies on images of sugar and drugs and needles - not uncommon themes for him, of course, but fairly related ones. However, by the fourth stanza, Way is writing passages such as this one:
pillows in your bed
made of clover. when you bite down
on the bitter ends you can taste
where i have been.
where i have cried dreaming of you.
Way has jumped from one end to another: sugar/bitter, needles/pillows. While his dualities are not the most common, this is, after all, what makes 'And' so enduring: there is a depth to it that is lacking in Way's other works. …
… Perhaps the most startling fact about 'And' is also the most obvious: that of the names. Naming is a concept Way plays with often throughout the poem, eliminating vowels, spaces, and capitals to toy with the idea of name and identity:
and if i strip you of your capitals
skin down to bones
pull your middle name out like an intestine
are you still mikey?
By questioning the identity of the subject, as well as wrapping it up with the concept of physical persona, Way leads the reader to the conclusion he has already attained - that of unidentity. To Way, it is not the 'capitals' - not the physical details - that cause identity; it is something meatier. Something like a whole name. As much as he changes the details of the individual, he retains the original name; he never strays from the designation "Mikey" for his subject.
Yet as much as Way touches on the ideas of identity and persona, he still avoids stating outright the most blatant theme - that of incestuous love. For all his willingness to name the subject, he refuses to name his relation to the subject. An acute reader will note that, despite the fact that the poem spans fifteen pages - no 'Leaves of Grass', but no William Carlos Williams, either - not once does the word 'brother' appear. Nor does the word 'family', nor 'mother', nor 'father'. The last name, 'Way', is mentioned only once: in the subtitle. The subject exists in a space completely irrelevant to relationship. In fact, the only mention of the relation is surprisingly obtuse: Way writes, in two brief lines,
i want to step back
and snap in half the cord between us.
A casual reader might not even make the connection between the word 'cord' and the word 'umbilical', and thus not draw up all the connotations of family, motherhood, blood relations. One might even be able to assume that Way himself was unaware of his own thought process when writing the line. What emerges, then, is a picture of an author who is so deeply in love, and yet unable to express the nature of his love; at the same time, he is unable to deny it. What makes 'And' so compelling is the duality of Way's refusal to admit to incest - and his refusal to deny it. By naming his lover outright in the subtitle, Way admits it; by stepping around the concept of name, he denies it. ...
... It's well-known to most students of Way's poetry that debate is common over the author of 'And'. Unlike many of Way's other works, which dwell in the morbid and the beauty thereof, 'And' is at heart a simple love poem. Where other volumes of his work tend towards bats and blood and vampires, 'And' refers to wrists and roses; it refers to kisses. This has led many to debate the authenticity of 'And', citing the fact that only one draft has been found (a typed copy, folded and stuffed into an ancient journal of Way's.)
It certainly doesn't help that Way refuses to give comment on the poem itself, and published it in a separate section in 'Early Sunsets'. There are many theories on Way's taciturn response. Some claim he stays silent only for the glamour and mystery it lends to the poem; others say he simply stole it from some anonymous, unknown poet. One small (though vocal) faction likes to claim that, in reality, it is written by the subject; according to this faction, when reread with the name 'Gerard' in place of 'Mikey', the poem begins to scan and sound far different. These claim that, in reality, 'And' is a love poem from the mysterious subject himself to the supposed author.
Yet ultimately, one must consider: does the true author matter?
What matters about 'And', more than its author or its background, is its truth. There is something in 'And' that rings in our hearts. When Way says,
you say our two names like one:
gerardandmikey.
i was touched until i realized
there was still that word
separating us. i want to erase
the word 'and.'
we feel something resonate. There's a distinct awareness of what that sounds like - to hear two names spoken as one - and yet a similar, parallel awareness of how lovers can never truly be close enough, can never achieve the ultimate union. Does it really matter which lover has written the piece? What matters is that it is written, from one to another, and that it is written well. ...
... Also worth a brief note is the vocabulary of 'And': where Way's more typical works tend towards the extravagant, a quick scan of 'And' places it at a fifth-grade reading level, at most. While Way has a tendency towards elaborate sentence construction, the words themselves are simplistic. The most elaborate words are those linguistic tics Way uses for effect - "atlantic" as an adjective, "shatterbright", "heartsound", etc. Even these can be picked apart simply.
While many put this down to mere sloppiness on Way's part, or an eagerness to reach the opposite of his typical style, there is another theory: Way's simplisticness is due to the inherently universal nature of love. By making the poem simple in language, if not concept, he extends his metaphorical handshake to all people, regardless of age. Viewed in this light, 'And' seems to be making a certain statement: that love can be found anywhere. If within the family, why not within children? Why not within the dull, the uneducated, the illiterate? 'And' is not limited to an elite or esoteric group, as much of Way's other work is. 'And' is a love song for the whole world. ...
… Truly, what leads to much of the general disbelief about Way's authorship of the poem is the subtlety of it. Many claim that Way must be the author, if only because he is one of the rare authors who would dare to touch on the subject of incest, let alone in such a devoutly loving poem. Yet this also leads to many doubts: when has Way ever been so subtle? In a typical work of Way's, the devil in the closet would jump out, screaming about family and blood vessels and whatnot.
Yet as already stated, 'And' is full of tenderness. There is no devil in the closet - nor any closet. There is no fear or shame in the poem. In fact, Way seems almost proud of the love he writes about:
if i had your heart tattooed
(despite fears of needles)
i would want it on my hand
so when i reached out to you
the world would see
how i always tried to return your heart
(how you wouldn't let me.)
For all the feelings that he isn't good enough for the subject, Way still displays his love proudly on his palm; he does not even touch on the idea that the world might reject their form of love. Way is, ultimately, writing about something deeply personal and adored. There is no shock value in this love. Way doesn't even consider the idea of trying to shock the world with it.
(Which, some might argue, is his ultimate - pardon the language - fuck-you to the world. His final, most shocking piece: by displaying no remorse, one might argue that Way makes the piece more startling than it ever could be. A far too cynical, bitter point of view to even consider truthful.) …
... What remains in character for Way, of course, is the total lack of transition. From the first stanza we are thrown into the poem. There is no introduction, no easing into the piece - no exposition of any sort. Way assumes that from the title, we have drawn every conclusion necessary. Thus he begins the poem with the word 'but', as if in the middle of the piece.
Yet the later stanzas contain few to no transition words. Way skips about from memory to memory, topic to topic, assuming the mere common thread of the subject will retain the cohesiveness of the piece. An easily bored reader will, in fact, assume the opposite and claim that Way lacks focus entirely. But the piece does hold up - and in reality, it truly is because of the title. By telling us from the start that the poem is about incest, Way captures our attention; by dodging the subject in the piece itself, Way forces us to focus on what's there - and what isn't.
The average reader might say that it is not, in fact, an incest piece at all, due to lack of discussion. Yet the more astute reader sees right away that every line is about incest. Way just won't admit it to us. It's only through the title - something offset from the entire poem, another example of his abrupt transitions - that we can discover what he won't say outright.
After all, the piece itself may be titled 'And', but it is the subtitle that truly describes it:
(a love song for mikey way)