The opening paragraph
of Gerald Callahan's, "Chimera," has all the qualities of
great fiction: mysterious characters; a setting every reader can place
himself in; a rhythmic flow of language and images; and an enticing
hook; the arrival of a dead spouse, in person.
Callahan says that
what inspired him to write the essay was a poem in which a dead relative
visits the living. The poem triggered the memory of the time he sat
in a café and watched his ex-wife, dead now for 10 years, come in, order
a muffin and coffee and leave without acknowledging him. He sat down
and wrote the scene, and that sparked the evolution of "Chimera."
Callahan is fortunate
that opening lines come easily to him. What he has a harder time doing
is putting the pieces of his writing together coherently. Often the
opening launches the rest of an essay. He wrote the opening of "Chimera,"
in one sitting, almost word for word how it appears in its published
form.
Callahan has studied
and taught immunology for 25 years, and has an intimate knowledge of
the connection between the immune system and memory, which he eloquently
explains in "Chimera." "But immune systems do remember things,
intricate things that the rest of the body has forgotten. And the memories
stored inside our immune systems can come back, like my first wife,
at unexpected moments, with sometimes startling consequences," he writes
in the essay. The slippery notion of memory fascinates him: where we
store memories in our minds and bodies, and what different types of
memories there are.
The notion of phantom
memory is an idea that Callahan is researching with others in the medical
profession: psychiatrists, biologists, and immunologists. He is intrigued
with how we perceive ourselves and what immunology and biology can tell
us about human behavior. In "Chimera," he says, "No one knows
how much of our reality comes to us from the physical world and how
much 'reality' we create inside our own minds."
Callahan is disturbed
by the fact that scientists, because the nature of scientific writing,
have closed the door to a lot of people on really interesting information.
He believes that scientists are bad at communicating to the public what
they do. "Very few people have followed the example of Carl Sagan or
Isaac Asimov in trying to convey the wonder in science and the insights
of who we are." His goal is to try to blend the two disciplines and
re-open some of those doors.
In his first book,
"River Odyssey," he says that he tried to go to the opposite
side of the personal essay, using poetry as the form. He tries now to
blend the two forms but finds that he too easily slips into his traditional
science writing voice and all the jargon that goes along with it. Fortunately,
his wife is a writer but not a scientist, and helps reel him back in
when he gets too technical.
He practices writing
prose by writing poetry. Every piece he writes on science, he tries
to rewrite four or five times: first he'll write it according to science
and scientific principles, then he'll go back and try to weave the more
human side of language and idea into it. He is not completely satisfied
that "Chimera" moved far enough away from science and far
enough toward lyricism.
"Chimera"
is the first of a series of nine essays by Callahan about how we perceive
ourselves, and what immunology and biology and other "ologies" can teach
us about ourselves and our interactions in the physical world. He is
interested in reexamining the concept of self from the perspective of
a biological scientist. He is currently conducting research on the possible
connection between viral infection and certain behavioral diseases,
for example, bipolarism. "There are a whole series of things that I
have come across as a scientist that make me realize that there are
aspects of our physical being & that suggest really interesting
things about how we interact with other people, how we interact with
the rest of the world, and what we really are."
Callahan teaches
a course at Colorado State University's Veterinary School on complimentary
medicine, that includes a section on mind/body medicine. He also teams
up with the English department and teaches a course in creative science
writing. His colleagues in the English department helped him come up
with the title of this essay. He knew the term as an immunologist to
mean an animal or plant that contains cells from two distinctly different
species. His colleagues knew the word to mean a creation of the imagination.
American Heritage Dictionary also includes in its definition, a mythological,
fire-breathing she-monster. It's an appropriate trio; Callahan says
that he has an impossible time with titles, so, he chuckles, "I got
lucky with that."
Callahan went to
a Catholic school in Utah for 12 years. He attributes good teachers
and early exposure to literature to a latent desire to be a writer.
At one point in his science career he had a hard time getting federal
funding for research, and decided to spend some time writing. "All of
a sudden I had no excuse not to write. Now I'm finding that I am ignoring
other things in order to write."
Corinne Platt
