We should begin with definition. At its strictest, "metathesis" means: "a change of place or condition: as a : transposition of two phonemes in a word (as in the development of crud from curd or the pronunciation \'pur-tE\ for pretty) b : a chemical reaction in which different kinds of molecules exchange parts to form other kinds of molecules." (Miriam Webster online. www.miriamwebster.com).

The verbal definition of metathesis is limited. In fact, it is so limited as to be useless for any purpose other than pure linguistics or the study of Hebrew poets' nomenclatures. It is so limited that it is hardly concordant with the definition of chemical metathesis. Chemical metathesis is a wonderful process. Other molecules are formed. New varieties of molecules. A profound change has occurred. In the verbal definition, we make crud out of curd.

Metathesis has taken a semantical leap from pure "transposition" of phonemes to transposition of subject, object and catalyst.

In basic terms, chemical metathesis is not self-starting: a catalyst is required. Likewise, the novel is not self-engendering. To devolve the subject completely, I take as my basic premise the fact of the author as catalyst—the agent for change. This is likely a nonsense, because the author is the agent of conception, fruition and birth—and not simply catalyst. The novel is not a self-perpetuating entity. The author is not simply the clock-winder. To reduce all mysticism from the act — the deist "inspirational" theory — is to see the artist as "poetos," or Old-English "maker": the artist as artisan.

We need a clear topography, as flawed in its own way as the more esoteric manifestations of literary theory, but nevertheless one which we will find useful as we approach the subject. I will employ a little hocus-pocus in my approach to the metathetical work, by taking it as a complete: an organ, a living being, a city—a total nation. The work is before us, thought-out, written, sworn over, torn up, taped back together, edited and given up for publication. We have in our hands our nation, our world, and we should make the best use of our abilities to come to terms with its process, as a conscious fact. The author is Prospero.

So our tripartite topography is as follows: catalyst, subject, object. The author is catalyst; the subject (or subjects) the characters; the object is composed of time, place, action—and prop. In other words, the subject and object are transposed by the logical ordering of the catalyst, and in more complex moments, various subjects and objects are ordered around each other, acting upon each other in a way devised by the logical catalyst. Subject and object change parts—change each other—perhaps even catalyze each other (especially place acting upon person). All the while we are aware of the tyrannical author.

So here we have it—if this isn't an atheist manifesto for art, de-inspired, dour and presbyterian, then nothing is. If we are to go as far as Pound, the brain is cock and the sacred ejaculate pours as light from the brain through the eyes and out! Inspiration is excess, sturm und drang—the normal course of human emotion.

We should not mistake metathesis for Joyce's (and Woolf's and James') "stream of consciousness." Joyce's is an attempt at the language of thought. It is, by and large, a heroically failed attempt. Thought is composed of so many fragments of words, pictures, musical and natural motifs, scents and tastes and guttural feelings that it is impossible to do. We can edge towards it...we can get the gist, but there is no way of really writing the process of thought. A movie can come close, but how do we exactly notate what goes through a troubled mind, its highs and lows—its totality? We think in four dimensions. We write in three.

But all the scents of piss from sizzling kidneys and fantasy and senses he evokes transposes the reader into the mind of the subject. The author is traditionally omniscient. The reader is allowed a glimpse (and it is only a glimpse) into the mind of the subject, and we are amazed. All the horrible, banal and uplifting everydays are there. Joyce has created a universe. Consciously, and evocatively. Ulysses is mirror.

We are not entirely convinced of the fact necessarily—only the truths evoked by the act. And as Yeats said, the poet is a liar—and even a liar evokes truths.

But metathesis is not necessarily the transposition of the reader into the mind of the subject. Any great work should bring us into the action at some point. Any good author aims to transpose the reader. It is when the author is transposed into the work...the subject, the object, the whole of the novel, that we can really observe metathesis taking place. This is a new action—not one of scientific catalyst acting upon molecules and rearranging them in a logical fashion—but in the catalyst catalyzing itself in the process. And there we have it.

The author is transposed. Transposes themself.

Beautiful. So the term isn't exact? It muddles towards definition. But we have defined it to some extent. The author is transposed by themself. And if we really need an illusion here—Proteus, but not Morpheus...this isn't automatic writing.

So we have to define the author. Or narrator. The narrator is divisible, usually into two parts. One is the actual author...the maker; the other is the author as presented in the narrative. We don't need to go into too much detail (another skim) but the simple premise is as follows: the author writes; they also present themself in a way that is distinct—whether they appear boldly in the text as the interjecting marginalist, as the first person pronoun, or give the appearance of invisibility.

So the narrator as presented is malleable. He/she is now an it. A subject to be acted upon like any other subject/object in the universe of the novel. Authorial voice is as much a part of a novel as the characters and places evoked. Not unlike Henry James' fraternal bore and scribbler twins, the writer is present as a duality. Thus an emerging process can be more fully realized. When we have that pinned down, we can move forward towards definition.

Imagine there are points on a simple plane. Each point refers to an object. Each object is static. It takes a catalyst to move each object around the plane. The catalyst is inherently logical. It moves the objects around in a set pattern. When an order is given, an object moves. We have a simple array. Imagine, though, that the catalyst itself is part of the equation...that the catalyst acts upon these objects and itself...and the objects function as a dynamic environment, moving the catalyst itself. The catalyst has become the clock-winder and the wound. It is a self-sustaining universe. Each object has become a catalyst of a sort in its own right.

But what if the catalyst was itself part of the scheme...not at all the clock-winder, but a function? Then there is a real program behind the whole—an author. The "catalyst" is really another object kicked into motion to give the appearance of a simple array. This "catalyzing force" is "simply" part of the plane. This is the metathetical narrative voice.

An author in control of his medium has a variety of choices when it comes to voice. But consistency of voice is one of the most prized mantles of the novel. A strong voice, a voice as recognizable as a musician's tone. Whatever form the voice takes, it must remain consistent if the novel is not written in "voices"—i.e. where a number of characters are given the chance to speak.

The third person narrator, the most common type of narratorial voice in the novel, is generally possessed of a consistent voice. This narration employs a more or less consistent tone. The trick has integrity—it is an effect, usually one of many, aimed at drawing attention, evoking a moment, propelling the action forward. We may view it with appreciation, it may grip us so much that we forget it's existence and get drawn further into the narrative. Yet it is a single voice.

The possibilities of metathesis are limitless—the author is given the opportunity to write in a number of voices. The narrative voice is as malleable as the characters and environments and situations. Finally that most common voice has become multiple.