Through Flatland to Particle Man

A just-fo-s***s essay I wrote for a book I was given to read before beginning my freshman year of college.

 

What tide of emotion would Edwin A. Abbott feel if he were suddenly transported to our four-dimensional world, and heard the anonymity of his life’s most memorable work, abridged into song? At their height in the early Nineties, They Might Be Giants wrote the enigmatic “Particle Man”, and the song instantly became their pièce de résistance. Yet nearly one hundred years ahead of Them, Abbott wrote Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions, venturing into a realm outside of what was expected from an English schoolmaster. He created a two dimensional parallel universe that served as a source of one the greatest satires of theology and geometry of its time, continuing to today. They Might Be Giants, a rock band that prides itself on an outside view of the world could readily adopt such an angle and create a song that emanates Abbott’s timeless characters.

In Flatland, a classist society, irregularity is considered the worst offense; an embroidered scrutiny of Abbott’s Victorian society. Coming to terms with imperfection, our time is widely appreciative of human nature, its quirks and humdrums. This is They Might Be Giants’ John Linnell and John Flansburgh’s feeding ground. Like Edwin A. Abbott, They Might Be Giants speak directly to the audience, yet yield for flattering, even outlandish interpretation. Abbott’s Flatland offers a vast base for analysis. The narrator speaks of an complex social structure and humanity’s narrow understanding of the divine, a clear satire of Victorian English society. Echoing this formula in many of their songs, They Might Be Giants emancipates a view of aesthetic proportions, spanning historical, religious, and political commentary, though well veiled behind witticisms and deadpan absurdity. In “Particle Man” we find a similar voice with A. Square, Flatland’s narrator.

Besides the naturally applied “unreliable narrator” in their lyrics, They Might Be Giants tell fantastical stories through the music they generate, frequently erupting from the unconscious with  seemingly silly notions. However, in their work there are often allusions to other more well-known musicians and obscure celebrities, as well as science, zoology, and, yes, literature. In their song, “I Should Be Allowed to Think”, the lyrics begin with “I saw the best minds of my generation / destroyed by  madness, starving, hysterical.” This is the opening line to Allen Ginsberg’s epic poem “Howl”, given to the band with permission. In other songs, the Johns name famous Greek allegories (“No One Knows My Plan”), books written by renowned chess players (“Rest Awhile”), and have reported inspiration from attending poetry readings (“I Palindrome I”). Most notably of their collection is the origin of They Might Be Giants’ name, a distant tribute to Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes, where the main character Don Quixote is convinced that neighboring windmills “might be giants.”  To know They Might Be Giants’ repertoire is to understand the characters they emanate in their relation to Flatland.

While They Might Be Giants songs are extremely difficult to interpret and often have no intended meaning, “Particle Man” and Flatland’s characters show a relationship. “Particle Man” begins just after the start of Flatland’s new millennium, where in a vision A. Square is taken by his savior, the Sphere to the Land of No Dimensions. In this Pointland, they observe the ongoing chatter between the King and himself, truly only “doing the things a particle can.” The song goes on to sing “What’s he like? It’s not important,” which solidifies the King of Pointland’s ignorance to the other dimensions, yet the self-content in his solipsism.

“Is he a dot, or is he a speck?” A. Square is trying to understand how this speck of a Being who cannot distinguish himself from the world, can possible go on in life not wondering of things far greater than his own existence. So is he a dot; a regular figure though infinitesimally small? Or is he a speck and not worth saving? The song begs the question: “When he’s underwater does he get wet? Or does the water get him instead?” Since “[the King of Pointland] is himself his One and All, being really Nothing” (pg. 75) is he truly influenced by things, or does he perhaps do the influencing? Alas, “nobody knows” except the King of Pointland.

The next verse brings Triangle Man into the arena, quite literally. “Triangle Man hates Particle Man” because Triangle Man, Flatland’s proletariat, refuses to believe in any dimension but its own. Flatland is operated by a high society of many-sided officials, called “Circles” who push this belief though readily admitting amongst themselves (and before the condemned) that they are aware of, at least, one other dimension. Anyone who pushes against the issue is either executed or imprisoned, depending on the rank of their sides. The isosceles and equilateral triangles are tradesmen, ill-informed teachers, or worse, they are policemen. Their expendability depends on the size of their angles. As they are uneducated, they follow the Circles blindly. They are the major force behind them and for Flatland’s denizens, belief in a lesser dimension is one thing, but a Third Dimension is the end of the line.

Universe Man, or the Sphere, carries his own force. He seeks a disciple in A. Square and brings him to his 3-D world. From where he stands in Spaceland, A. Square can only comprehend that he is at eye-level with a god. This “omnividence” makes the Sphere the “size of the entire universe, man.” The Sphere rebuts this. He is “usually kind to smaller man,” so generously imparts his knowledge on A. Square who is at first not an eager student, but as he is absorbed into a completely different outlook of the universe, he becomes overeager and insists on farther dimensions than the Sphere’s Third. For his impertinence, the Sphere casts A. Square out of Spaceland. The Sphere is on the clock. He must have a disciple this millennium or try again in another thousand years. He is sure that when the time comes, and everyone is enlightened by the higher dimension(s), then it will be “a happy land.” The Sphere apologizes in a dream and that is when he takes A. Square to Pointland.

“Hit on the head with a frying pan,” A. Square is left with new, startling knowledge and the difficult task of converting a pupil to the Gospel of Three Dimensions. It is disastrous in Flatland to speak of any dimension but the second. After failing to convince his usually reasonable grandson, he becomes desperate and blurts out in front of a meeting of his fellows that he has seen the Third Dimension. He is at once arrested, trialed before the Council, and must live the rest of his life “in a garbage can.” Without the Third Dimension, A. Square is distressed, saying, “All pleasures palled upon me; all sights tantalized and tempted me to outspoken treason, because I could not but compare what I saw in Two Dimensions with what it really was if seen in Three, and could hardly refrain from making my comparisons aloud.” (pg. 80) The narrator feels worthless, finally failing to convince his brother, who was put in jail when he witnessed the Sphere descending upon a crowd. A. Square has not produced a single student, and has degraded himself to his countrymen. “Who came up with Person Man?” Why was the millennial Revelation made to him? The Flatland society has only succeeded in putting down another subsidiary.

“Triangle Man wins,” but is it really Triangle Man? The question has reverberated in concert halls and specially tailored wikis for years. The Johns had this to say: “We pretty much write these songs and let other people figure them out. I remember one thing that went into [“Particle Man”] was that we were watching Night of the Hunter or something on TV and somebody commented that Robert Mitchum reminded them of a triangle. Something about his body type. He seemed like this kind of evil triangle.” The Night of the Hunter holds the unrefined, yet loose basics of Flatland. There is a religious backdrop where Mitchum’s character is a preacher who preys on rich widows then kills them, helping God with doing away with women who tempt men’s carnal instincts. The preacher feels that he has a special mission handed to him by God, like A. Square’s obligation to enlighten his peers. The preacher’s contempt of women correlates to Flatland’s general philosophy of women. At face value, the book and the movie are contrary, but from the wayside we can see the disquieting parallels.

However, They Might Be Giants fans have been trying to interpret the band’s work for years. John Flansburgh, guitarist, told PopCultureCorn.com in 1998 “I think ‘Particle Man’ is probably the song that people talk about the most, and yet has the least to offer. Basically it's just a song about characters in the most obvious sense. They're not real people; it's not Animal Farm.” Not Animal Farm, maybe, but Flatland? In contrast, George Orwell’s Animal Farm satirized Joseph Stalin, Leon Trotsky, Adolf Hitler, and others in authoritarian government. Flatland does not take on the roles of specific people in Edwin A. Abbott’s 1800s world, but points to the social hierarchy of Victorian culture, which in effect “Particle Man” does with the battering levels at which Triangle Man must dominate and Universe Man’s strong need to inform.

To believe in this interpretation of Flatland, we must think “Upward, not Northward” like A. Square. Although They Might Be Giants admits that their songs should be taken at face value, fans continue to work together to puzzle on the unconscious depth to their work. Abbott’s epic characters are revived in They Might Be Giants’ “Particle Man” whether purposefully or not. Their characters refine the characters that came before them, and beg for definition. Like a two dimensional view, a simple song may contain hidden layers of higher meaning that brings us round and round again.

 

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[Adam Greenfield]

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