If the last selection, “Help Somebodyâ€, denoted hope and redemption, “The Murder Museum “ is certainly its antagonist. It is a story of ruination. Certainly both tales are poignant. Salvation vs. Doom! Because the existence of either has a real potential, and a tremendous consequence in a given lifetime, their relevancies are shared. The polarity only differs in direction, not magnitude. So in either scenario, we the listeners are drawn to both from a very personal influence. It becomes a question of cause and effect. How much can a man overcome environment, due to his own nature, to rise out of ruination? The “Murder Museumâ€ portrays a man affected by horror in his youth. He watches an unloving and unfaithful mother, though once involved, get hacked to death by an enraged father. This is the story’s introduction. The stage is set. What are the consequences? Is there hope?

In evaluating such weighty considerations, we can do so from many approaches. One may start by asking, how did producers both overtly and covertly present Vincent, our protagonist?
Certainly we know he witnessed the horror as a youth. We learn he becomes a painter of dark blacks and grays with flashes of red. His attitude is fatalistic. This much is clear, understandable and perhaps expected. Interestingly, it was my observation that his character also nicely portrayed the scars of this damage very effectively. It is here that we see the covert aspects. He is at times far from likeable, specifically when feeling sorry for himself and telling Lisa “that all he wants is for her to leave him aloneâ€. It is not far along in the story when we hear the two of them back together again. Superficially this is annoying and illogical. It is also true to life. A sick relationship exists.

Instead of having Vincent express his torment for us with his thoughts, we, as Lisa, learn of his torment as the story moves along. He has small moments of joy, never to be believed by the steadfast listener, and certainly not by Vincent himself. These are intertwined by heavy melancholy. In fact, as we learn when Vincent witnesses a man abusing his wife, the melancholy is yet another shroud and only layers deeper terrors. These terrors are the heart of the story. Their depth, permanence and influence on Vincent are absolutely pervasive here! When reflecting on the conclusion of this story, could it have ended any other way?

The story, from start, development and conclusion is about his ruination. It is fantastic artistic license to have Vincent go the way his father did. Such irony! He is conscious, and trapped, by the knowledge of his past experience. He rebels against it. He lives with it. He accepts it and expresses it in his art, a true social representation of himself. It is so damn pervasive that he ends up murdering, as his father did. Perhaps less obvious is the fact that he murdered for much the same reason, namely betrayal. His mother betrayed his father and Galinari betrayed Vincent.

So what’s the point? If the story were simply trying to show that he commits murder in the end it would not have drama. The drama is created with the development of Vincent. It’s inevitable conclusion confirming all that is understood and felt while listening to the tale. Still the question is to be asked- is it inevitable because of who we discover Vincent to be or because it is a consequence that none could avoid? In other words, would all who grew up as Vincent fall subject to the same damages? It’s a good question, and I believe the answer is that most would suffer terrible damage and the remaining some various degree of damage. What is crucial to recognize involves the existence of this damage, at some level, would be universal. The inherent personality might involve some degree of protection. Nevertheless, this person here is truly a victim of outside influences and most unfortunate. They spend a lifetime with dark blacks, grays and flashes of red.

This gives an appreciation for the circumstances one may find themselves in, should they be fortunate. Any of us could have been born in Africa instead of the U.S. How would we be different? Life is not so black and white though. Could we have joy, security and happiness if we did not understand, and experience their counterparts- sorrow, uncertainty and misery?

O God of earth and altar,
Bow down and hear our cry,
Our earthly rulers falter,
Our people drift and die;
The walls of gold entomb us,
The swords of scorn divide,
Take not thy thunder from us,
But take away our pride.