THE HUNGRY ARTIST

THE HUNGRY ARTIST
by Olmo Filho
(3,389 words)

I

During these last generations, the interest in freak show circuses has markedly diminished. It used to pay very well to exhibit all sorts of ‘human aberrations’ on stage; back when it was still permissible to refer to them in those terms. But for now, we have convinced ourselves that we live in a different world. In the golden era of freak shows, a whole town quickly lit up after the first child spotted the first car in the circus fleet entering the city. Everybody always waited eagerly until the tent was set and tickets made available. The more crafty companies were careful enough to display a different set of freaks each night, guaranteeing attendance was maximized since even previous visitors would remain enticed by their curiosity. "What delightful nightmare would entertain me next?" they wondered. One night, a midget was riding on the back of a man with three legs. In the next one, a bearded lady lifted 200lb of fake weights. Siamese twins were a common presence, whereas a myriad of self-mutilated bodies could also be found: implanted spikes coming out of foreheads and arms; flesh deeply engraved by pictures burned in the skin; heavy stones permanently stuck through punctured lower lips. The very best companies, however, have noticed something interesting: to make sure the audience always went back home satisfied, amazed, shocked, and still feeling good about themselves, even after being exposed to a creative slew of catastrophic aberrations, the main attraction of the night should be followed by a quick, lighthearted, humorous and relatable closing act. Prosaic as it may seem, in this company, a fat man was in charge of that mission. Every night, after a monstrous climax made silence flow between the seats, while women and children hold their tears and man hold their screams, a large voluptuous table, holding food worthy of 10 banquets, was placed in the center of the stage with no announcement. Then a shirtless fat man, fatter than those times thought it was possible, painfully walked toward the table and started to eat. He would salivate, puff, let the food sprawl all over his grotesque chest, then bury his bare hands into the piles of treats, and shove more than he could chew down his throat, like a beast, until he choked. He did it again and again, with lachrymose-looking eyes. As the fat man drowned himself, the silence of the witnesses smoothly converted into laughter: "Look at that pig!", "What an animal!", "Mommy, look!", "Disgusting!", "He will eat until he dies!", "Hahahaha!" were common shouts among the crowd. And so the host in colorful clothing entered the stage, wished everybody a goodnight, and ended the performance, but the fat man kept eating until all seats were empty.

At each new town, amid the other more casual attendees to the freak show, there was always a crew of more faithful watchers, who, in bafflement and surprise, couldn’t help themselves but to buy their way into the spectacle every night it was open. For those, the story was always the same: only in the first few shows would they manage to stare in disbelief at the new aberration displayed, and then release their tension in nervous laughter, as the fat man came to ease the stress of all viewers. On the first night, they all laughed as hard as any other newcomer; on the second, slightly less than that, but still; on the third night, even less so; on the fourth night, the repeated onlookers began to maintain their silence even after the fat man entered the stage; on the fifth, each started to wonder: "How can this man eat so much every night, and not burst and die?", "Does he puke it all afterward?", "Does he have a punctured stomach?", "This is not possible! Something is wrong here." On the sixth night, they cease to care about the main attraction, and from that point onward, they were just coming back to see if the fat man could continue eating; a week after the first show, some attendees would remain seated after it was over, just to see for how long the fat man could sustain his ferocious appetite. On the first attempt, they waited for a whole hour, but the fat man wouldn’t stop; the next time they tried again until midnight, and he still wouldn’t stop. The host of the show never cared to push anyone out, for her, the show could only truly end after the last customer left; besides, she knew damn well what was coming. As the days went by, the dedicated onlookers watched the fat man for longer and longer periods. They went as far as to spend the whole night in their seats, but, ill prepped, they often fell asleep throughout the night-watch and woke up in the morning, to their disappointment, facing an empty stage from their improvised lairs. There were, of course, occasions when at least one of the watchers kept their eyes open until dawn, but in those scenarios, the fat man would just remain there, eating steadily and incorruptibly, for the bafflement of all. A few more days passed by, and the small group of recurrent onlookers got to know each other, so they arranged to take turns watching over the fat man in a permanent fashion, but no great discovery was made: the fat man just stood there eating uninterrupted, day after day, for as long as someone was watching, from the end of one show to the beginning of the next, which was when he had to go backstage for an hour or so, letting the freak show proceed, and then come back again for the closing act, in defiance of his skeptics. This prolonged presentation, forcibly extended due to the skepticism of some didn’t bother the fat man at all. If anything, he preferred it that way, so no doubts hover over the seriousness of his act, and most importantly, so that the circus owner keeps providing him with food, since he only had access to the endless banquet on stage.

II

Over time, skepticism toward the fat man’s abilities, after all, brought an unexpected opportunity that turned the fat man’s act, originally designed to be an accompaniment, into the main attraction of the company; because this was not only a great but the best company of all time, run by the most talented money-making impresario in the history of that line of business. He noticed that as the fat man ate more and more, the crew of near-resident onlookers grew larger, and they spread the word of how the fat man never stopped to eat but still, for some reason, was never satisfied. "You have to go and see it yourself, it’s unbelievable, he must have gained over 70lb since the circus came in here!" the people gossiped to each other. There was something about it that truly instigated the common man. For the impresario, it was not clear what or why. Anyone can eat too much, he thought, why would a fat man be deemed more spectacular than any of the unheard marvels of human deformity making up the main show? Perhaps they stared at him so tenaciously out of envy, not interest, since unlike the crippled and the dismembered, many people would be thrilled to live the life of the fat man, a life of nothing but salacious flavors eternally mixing up in their mouths, to the satisfaction of their insatiable desire. Unfortunately, very few could afford to either buy all that food or endure shoving all of it down their throats without becoming ill rather quickly, so they just sat and waited eagerly for their moment of atonement to come: the one when the fat man dropped dead from eating too much. He had to, otherwise, our modest diets so diligently maintained, sometimes unwillingly, would be nothing but a life wasted.

Even without a comprehensive understanding of the phenomenon, the impresario did not fail to take advantage of the opportunity for maximizing the season’s profits. The fat man would now have a show of his own. "The Hungriest Man Alive!" said the pamphlets introduced with the new marketing strategy. The main circus tent continued with its nightly performances, however, the fat man was now placed on a new and smaller tent on the side, opened all day every day, and to which extra time-limited entrance fees must be paid by the interested attendees. Inside the tent, there was nothing but the fat man, locked inside an empty cage, except for the piles of food that were daily replenished. No table was used this time, they just carelessly threw the food all over the floor. The first day of captivity was highly advertised, making an upheaval throughout the whole town. The circus held a big event, with lights, music and even some firework. He was weighed in and found to have an astonishing 650lb, but that was only the beginning: the event’s host announced that the fat man was set to amaze all by gaining the weight of two grown men in mere 40 days. The short period to acquire all that extra weight was demanding, given the already exuberant starting size of the performer, but the limit was essential, as the impresario was, other than as smart as he was, well aware that this kind of endeavor could not possibly continue for long: he yet failed to understand the true nature of the perennial power in unjustified hunger. When initially informed about the time limit of his performance to come, the fat man was less than contented. It irritated him a little how most people treated him as if he was undergoing a great challenge as the continuous feasting extravaganza intensified over time. For him, there was no challenge at all. He did realize that, perhaps, people wouldn’t be so drawn if they knew how easy it was for him to eat. It felt like the easiest thing in the world, no matter how much food was already taken. Oh, the bliss of eating when Anything Goes: if any diet is as good as any other, as the fat man told himself, then one might just as well get stuffed with all of them; it’s undeniable that each delicacy provoked its unique sensations, why giving up on even a single one of them? As far as the fat man was concerned, he could keep eating and getting fatter for much, much longer than it was implied by the 40 days deadline, breaking all the records, which were probably already his, to begin with. People used to say that no body could resist after 300lb, and then after 400lb, 500lb… Why would 1000lb be any different? But he was, ultimately, an employee of the circus, and couldn’t afford all that food on his own anyhow, so he had to accept the conditions. The impresario was even a bit surprised to notice that the fat man didn’t complain the slightest bit about being locked in a cage, in public, for the entertainment of others. Little did he know, that for the fat man, being looked up like an animal was liberating, as long as the food stash remains larger than his ability to consume it. Freedom, for the fat man, meant freedom to obey his desires.

And so the fat man’s pilgrimage started. At that point, even though his tent was always open, tickets became harder and harder to buy, as the bleachers got permanently full after a couple of days. His act somehow hypnotized the whole people, what was truly happening right before their eyes? Large crowds waited right outside of the venue for their chance to go in, while those inside refused to leave before passing out and getting removed by the circus crew. In the beginning, the audience was nothing but silence, in tension, worriedly waiting for the moment when the eating hysteria would run its expected course, with the fat man dropping dead from overeating exhaustion and then falling face flat over the pile of food scattered in front of him. But the days gathered, forming weeks, and the fat man, now already visibly fatter, was unshakable in his mission. He even learn to chew by reflex while sleeping, so he could overfill his mouth with nasty consecutive bites, and then nap for 1-2 minutes until it was time for the next nip; he did that in succession throughout all of the nights. As the fat man proved he was up to the task, sustaining the devouring pace as strong as on the first day, the silence that encompassed the crowd morphed into a collective euphoria, they were now cheering him on, screaming, dancing, celebrating. "He is going to make it!" they shouted. Then they followed along and began to eat incessantly on their own. Of course, they didn’t have enough food or appetite to keep up with the fat man, but hordes of people were now coming to the tent bringing in their own buckets of food, to venerate their hero and liberator while fearlessly relegating themselves with their favorite treats. In ecstasy, as the fat man chewed, so did they; as the fat man babbled with his mouth always full, so they cheered and jump to the point of making their bellies ache since they were so full. And so this twisted liturgy intensified continuously for the next two weeks until the fat man finally reached the 40th day of the challenge in glory. When his time was over, it took five men to steer him away from the food and then out of the cage, firstly, due to the obvious mobility implications of his now even larger frame, but also because he attempted to cling onto the bars in a last desperate move to continue.

"977lb!" announced the host in disbelief, after the weighting of the fat man took place during the grand finale. After that, a toast was drunk to the public, and the spectators howled in a celebratory frenzy, as they were all conspicuously satisfied with the results. They jumped (with more effort than before, since they were visibly larger as well), cheered, ate more, and some even threw money over the stage. They were satisfied, but not satiated, since the fat man, with his unintended heroism of not dying in front of all, has not only expanded the boundaries of human achievement but revealed a new pathway of life. The impresario was not any less euphoric; he daydreamed about the sierras of money to be mined by replicating the routine all over Europe. No one had reason to be dissatisfied with the proceedings, except for the fat man, now turned hungry artist, himself, as his mouth was not filled for the first time in several weeks.

III

And so the company traveled around the continent for many years, whereas the artist, to his disdain, was forced by the impresario into a caloric deficit in the resting periods between performance seasons; each of these times subtracted a couple of hundred pounds, even though the artist still managed to accumulate more and more total weight in the long run. Those sessions were hard on the fat man, not as much for the fact his indiscriminate hunger went unattended from time to time, but mainly because he still felt the impresario doubted his abilities, thinking he could die sooner than financially optimal, if not provided with some kind of periodic recovery. How to make others understand that the more he ate, the more his body swelled, the better he felt? People thought he was sick, insane, reckless, or all, but was he? Why should he restrain his hunger, when the price of infinite food was as mild as sitting in a cage? His desire, which never went away, and brought discomfort if ignored, was also the reason for the continuation of his bliss in every new bite. It is true he didn’t remember most of what he ate (how could he, when eating so much) but isn’t that the point? To live in a dream, one has to stay unconscious. Sometimes, these reflections made the fat man unease to a point of rage; he went as far as angrily shaking the bars he could reach, amid screams, like a wild animal (maintaining him ‘starved’ in the cage was the only way the impresario found to keep him away from any food during the imposed recoveries), but he quieted down after someone threw over a few treats during these outbursts, just to keep him distracted.

Paradoxically, as the company became increasingly more famous, and the witnessing of the fat man’s act reshaped the waistlines (and the souls) of more and more people around the cities, the hungry artist fell victim to his success. His fame spread so much that it reached the depths of culture: now, although the artist still held all the records unchallenged, after surpassing the four-digit threshold, almost every citizen was fat, or at least overweight, as well. Consequently, the commercial appeal of the hungry artist’s performance progressively depleted since the average man’s size became just a few times smaller than the fat man’s, unlike the dozens of times in the peek of his career, not to mention it now hurts the common-man sensibilities to have someone resembling himself portrait as the main act of a freak show. The irony. The impresario sadly watched the decline in profits, until it reached a point where the fat man’s ticket sales were not even enough to pay for all the food needed to maintain his impossible size. So the performance was canceled, or at the very least hunger was no longer the main object of amusement: the impresario noticed that the public still retained plenty of untapped desires that, when exacerbated on stage, could bring the company to its old glory. So new artists of lust, masochism, and violence came along and went away, following a career path similar to the fat man’s. Every time a new point of contention was found, the audience became euphoric again, and thanked the impresario by making him even richer. Fair enough, he gave everybody what they wanted.

Of course, none of this artistic identity or commercial success mattered for the fat man: all he cared about was to keep feasting. When informed about the termination of his act, he begged to continue in the company, even without pay, initially to no avail. But after many supplications, he at least convinced the impresario to let him occupy the cage, which was now placed outside of the tent, free to watch and the staff would no longer feed him. "The Hungriest Man Alive – Feed at Will," said a little improvised sign that was hanged next to his lair. Luckily, and to some degree thanks to the artist himself, nearly the whole world has turned fat, and almost all who passed near the cage had a little something left in their pockets for him; some even recognized him. "Look, I was there when he breached 1,000lb for the first time!" some of them said. As such, the fat man’s cage became a de facto leftover dumpster, and he couldn’t be happier about it.

Time passed, and so cups, plastic, and paper bags in which the food remains were thrown inside the cage accumulated and covered the fat man completely. Even though he was now bigger than ever, further breaking his records, nobody could even see him anymore, permanently engulfed by a literal pile of trash (nothing organic though, he ate it all), to a point where everyone became as unaware of his existence as himself, thinking the cage was supposed to be an actual dumpster. One day, a new staffer asked the impresario: "Why do we have to carry that filled dumpster around anyways?" to which the impresario replied: "Honestly, I have no idea. You know what? Just throw it away in the nearest landfill." The impresario wasn’t lying: he actually forgot about the hungry artist, and the staffer did as requested. At that point, nobody knew what happened to the fat man, most just assumed he died, but there was a legend claiming he was still alive and going, buried deep underground, where he could happily eat trash forever.

THE END



THE END