The Singing Silence: An Exploration of Ashlee Lhamon’s "Caesura"
Ashlee Lhamon’s "Caesura," featured in Lightspeed Magazine, is not simply a story about a prosthetist crafting a facial prosthesis; it’s a poignant exploration of trauma, anonymity, and the unsettling power of unintentional creation. Lhamon masterfully weaves a narrative that is both unsettling and strangely beautiful, leaving the reader contemplating the nature of art, identity, and the unexpected voices that can emerge from the wreckage of life.
The story opens with a stark, almost clinical description of the ways in which ears can be lost—"When a human head hits a road at the right speed and the wrong angle, the asphalt will take off an ear like a belt sander." This immediately establishes the story’s central theme: the physical manifestation of trauma and the artistry required to repair it. The protagonist, a skilled prosthetist specializing in facial reconstruction, presents a detached yet compassionate persona, accustomed to the tragedies that bring clients to his door. He emphasizes his disinterest in the specific details of their suffering, a professional necessity that underscores the emotional distance required to perform his work.
The arrival of Client X, however, disrupts this established equilibrium. The client’s injuries—the result of a self-inflicted gunshot wound—are both severe and emotionally charged. "Client X had put a shotgun into their mouth and missed, sending only their lips, left cheek, jawbone, twenty-six teeth, and chin into oblivion." This graphic description immediately intensifies the narrative and highlights the magnitude of the challenge facing the prosthetist. The subsequent crafting of the prosthesis becomes more than a mere technical feat; it becomes an act of restoration and, ultimately, an act of creation.
The prosthetist’s process is meticulously detailed, emphasizing the precision and artistic skill required. He uses photographs of the client’s pre-injury face to create a silicone sculpture that will serve as the basis for the mold. He also implements a magnetic attachment system, demonstrating the advancement of prosthetic technology and the quest for a seamless, undetectable result. The prosthetist’s description of his work as “the reverse” of a painter’s—taking life’s wreckage and creating a nondescript whole—highlights the transformative nature of his craft and his deeply human desire to give his clients back their anonymity.
The unsettling element enters the narrative subtly. The prosthetist describes a sound, initially dismissed as mundane—Rebecca’s radio, a ringing phone—that he eventually traces to the hardened mold. "I had heard urban legends of old tooth fillings picking up radio transmissions, and in the void of logic that the moment presented, I thought the prosthesis’ magnetic strips must be doing something similar." This initial, rational explanation slowly gives way to an unsettling reality as the sound persists even after the mold is opened. The sound is described not as a radio broadcast, but "like someone trying to speak with a hand over their mouth." This ambiguity heightens suspense and foreshadows the uncanny revelation to come.
The climactic moment is the discovery that the still-untinted prosthesis itself is capable of singing—a beautiful aria in an unknown language. This defies logic and scientific explanation. "Cut, they parted, and puckered, and bowed. That half-mask began to sing to me, beautifully." The prosthetist’s initial reaction is not disbelief but a prolonged period of listening, indicating a deep respect, even awe, for this unexpected artistry. His subsequent attempts to question the singing mask (and other prosthetics) reveal a loneliness and deep desire for companionship or understanding. The artist, focused on restoring anonymity and rebuilding faces, is stunned by a face creating its own unique song, and searching for a connection.
The story then takes a turn towards existential questioning. The prosthetist grapples with the implications of his creation, and his attempts to complete the mask fail repeatedly. The singing mask—his "unintentional creation"—represents a potent symbol of the unforeseen consequences of his actions and a potent reminder that art, and life, has a generative power beyond our conscious control. The story could even be interpreted as an exploration of the hidden trauma that lives within us and sometimes expresses itself in unexpected ways. This is especially clear in the prosthetist’s deep desire to preserve the enigmatic voice within the mask versus his professional duty to offer the client anonymity.
Towards the end, the prosthetist makes a second, silent prosthesis for Client X. However, he chooses to give Client X both prostheses—one silent, one singing. "This is yours, too,” I said, and I gave them a second case. They looked at me, confused. Even with the case’s lid closed, you could hear the singing from inside." This act of relinquishment is pivotal. It signifies the prosthetist’s acceptance of the unexpected and his recognition that the beautiful things we create are not entirely our own, and must sometimes be released from our control. The final sentence—"Perhaps it was just by coincidence, or it happened differently and I only remember it this way, but it seemed to me that the singing was at its most beautiful, then."—leaves the reader with a lingering sense of wonder and mystery. The ambiguous ending allows for multiple interpretations. Is it a simple coincidence, is it the power of the Client and mask creating one? Did he simply project his own personal happiness onto the situation, creating a "most beautiful" experience for the mask and the Client through his own observation and decision?
Ultimately, "Caesura" is a complex and richly layered story. It explores the themes of repair and restoration, the limits of human control, and the unexpected beauty that can emerge from trauma and loss. Ashlee Lhamon’s carefully crafted prose and her evocative descriptions create a narrative that is deeply unsettling, yet deeply compelling; one that lingers in the mind long after the final page is turned. The story leaves us contemplating not only the ethical considerations surrounding the prosthetist’s work but also the profound mysteries that lie at the intersection of art, science, and the human condition.
