Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta changeling. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta changeling. Mostrar todas las entradas

domingo, 13 de agosto de 2017

#LeftiesRule

Today is the 13th of August, International Day of Left-Handedness.


#LeftiesRule
Her fencing master Syrio Forel encouraged Arya to fight left-handed.
At last, my 16-year-old self had found a sinistral role model.

And, as a sinistral myself, I couldn't but post a little about the subject of this day in August being commemorated.
Both my grandmothers were subjected to a series of punishments to set them right: left arms tied to their backs, raps at the left wrist with a ruler, thousands of such things. Upon growing up, they decided not to set their respective sinistral children right, but rather encourage their left-handedness. And my own sinistral tendencies, of both hand and foot, were warmly encouraged as well.
In Christmas pantomimes, according to tradition, the villains always enter and exit stage left, while the heroes enter and exit stage right.
If one surveys the words for 'left' and 'right' in European languages, one finds that the latter are groups of cognates—dexiosdexterdestra and dirittoderechedireitadroitrechterightdeis—and the former mostly unrelated—laiossinisterlasciatoizquierdolinkegaucheleftclé. This is because words for 'left', with their negative connotations, have undergone taboo-substitution from foreign sources; izquierdo, for instance, is Basque ("ezkerreko"). So are esquerre and esquerdo (all Iberian Romance languages have adopted the Basque euphemism. In fact, Italian is the only Romance language to retain the original sinistro instead of replacing it with a euphemism!). To call someone gauche or sinister is to insult him—whereas to call him adroit or dextrous is high praise. It is no coincidence that right should have its two primary meanings, nor that left should come from a root meaning 'lame' or 'weak.'
Judas Iscariot, Cain, and Iago are depicted as left-handed; but on the flip side so are Link, Arya Stark, Emery Thane (of whom I have spoken before), Rei Hino, Rapunzel and her Eugene, Elsa of Frozen fame, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, the list goes on and on.
In real life, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joan of Arc, Andersen, da Vinci, Escher, Pablo Ruiz Picasso, and Jingoro Hidari (best known for the Sleeping Cat, below, and the original Three Wise Monkeys), among many others, were renowned sinistrals.
And looking at McCartney or Hendrix playing the guitar shows that they strum with their left and hold with their right. As I do myself with Trond Larsen's guitar app.
The Fair Folk were and are seen (as depicted in Andersen's Elfin Hill/Elverhöj) as being left-handed and left-footed, just like Yours Truly. Like freckles or reddish hair (two other traits that I possess), this may have been (aside from an outright sign of villainy in a fictional character) one of the signs that this was no ordinary human child, but a changeling that parent trolls, elves, or fairies had swapped in the cradle.
Still a faint aura of dextralism lingers over our society.
How many times is it presumed that righties, like men/males or straight people, are the default; which makes those who don't fit in deviants? In a Grimm story, for instance, a violinist gives a bear lessons:
Aber du glaubst auch nicht, daß er sie aufgebracht hat. Wie das vorbei war, holte das Schneiderlein eine Violine unter dem Rock hervor und spielte sich ein Stückchen darauf. Als der Bär die Musik vernahm, konnte er es nicht lassen und fing an zu tanzen, und als er ein Weilchen getanzt hatte, gefiel ihm das Ding so wohl, daß er zum Schneiderlein sprach: "Hör, ist das Geigen schwer?" - "Kinderleicht, siehst du, mit der Linken leg ich die Finger auf, und mit der Rechten streich ich mit dem Bogen drauf los, da geht's lustig, hopsasa, vivallalera!" - "So geigen," sprach der Bär, "das möcht ich auch verstehen, damit ich tanzen könnte, so oft ich Lust hätte. 
 When that was over, the tailor took out a violin from beneath his coat, and played a piece of it to himself. When the bear heard the music, he could not help beginning to dance, and when he had danced a while, the thing pleased him so well that he said to the little tailor, "Hark you, is the fiddle heavy?" "Light enough for a child. Look, with the left hand I lay my fingers on it, and with the right I stroke it with the bow, and then it goes merrily, hop sa sa vivallalera!" "So," said the bear; "fiddling is a thing I should like to understand too, that I might dance whenever I had a fancy. 
Presently the tailor took out a little fiddle and began playing on it. When the bear heard the music he could not help dancing, and after he had danced some time he was so pleased that he said to the tailor, 'I say, is fiddling difficult?' 'Mere child's play,' replied the tailor; 'look here! you press the strings with the fingers of the left hand, and with the right, you draw the bow across them, so--then it goes as easily as possible, up and down, tra la la la la--'
The same can be said about Comenius's "Sinistra tenet, dextra peragit," and the same author's "Ambidexter melior est quam scaevola." Unlike the non-dextralist Fenno-Ugric and Germanic words for equal handedness (se. tvâhänt, de. Zweihänder, hu. kétkezes, fi. kaksikätinen: all of which literally mean "two-handed"), the term ambidexterity refers to having two right hands. Ewww.
However, deviance can be positive or negative.
Whether wielding a sword or a tennis racket, for instance, we left-handers are sure to throw our opponents off-kilter. Nowadays during peacetime, in sports, it's a pretty valued trait... but, in the olden days, we sinistrals had pretty much of a more relevant advantage... a literal matter of life and death. Syrio Forel, for instance, encouraged Arya's left-handedness for this very reason.
The Old Testament stories of Ehud killing Eglon and Joab/Yoav killing Amasa have been seen in both a positive and negative light through the ages. Both stories involve greeting the opponent as a friend, reaching out a friendly right arm, while thrusting a hidden left-handed sword into the false ribs of that person in cold blood. Not in vain have these stories raised many an eyebrow in both fear and awe:
The second parallel (of Yoav) with Ehud is found in the account of the assassination of Amasa. Here, the focus seems to be on the unexpected thrust of the weapon using the left hand.
And Ehud came unto him; and he was sitting in a summer parlour, which he had for himself alone. And Ehud said, I have a message from God unto thee. And he arose out of his seat. And Ehud put forth his left hand, and took the dagger from his right thigh, and thrust it into his belly: and the haft also went in after the blade; and the fat closed upon the blade, so that he could not draw the dagger out of his belly; and the dirt came out. Then Ehud went forth through the porch, and shut the doors of the parlour upon him, and locked them.
--
When they were at the great stone which is in Gibeon, Amasa went before them. And Joab's garment that he had put on was girded unto him, and upon it a girdle with a sword fastened upon his loins in the sheath thereof; and as he went forth it fell out.
And Joab said to Amasa, Art thou in health, my brother? And Joab took Amasa by the beard with the right hand to kiss him.  But Amasa took no heed to the sword that was in Joab's left hand: so he smote him therewith in the fifth rib, and shed out his bowels to the ground, and struck him not again; and he died.
---
As for the unexpected left-handed thrust, in Judg. iii 21-22, Ehud’s
reaching with his left hand to draw the sword from his right to plunge
it into the king’s belly is clearly and vividly described. That Joab also
used an unexpected left-handed thrust to dispose of his victim is, however,
often overlooked. Here, although the text never explicitly states
that Joab used his left hand to kill Amasa, it is nonetheless a logical
conclusion given the way the assassination is described. For in 2 Sam.
xx 8, it is first reported that Joab’s sword accidentally fell out from
its sheath. Then, presumably to divert Amasa’s attention from the
fallen sword, Joab is said in 2 Sam. xx 9 to grasp Amasa by the beard
with his right hand to give him a kiss. The author then shows
Joab surprising Amasa with his sword plunged into his belly in 2 Sam.
xx 10, presumably even while the deceitful kiss was still in progress.
Here, since the narrator had taken extra care to specify that Joab
grasped Amasa’s beard with his right hand, the only hand left to pick
up the fallen sword and plunge it into Amasa’s belly without Amasa
noticing is the left. Thus, the unspecified "other hand" holding the sword in
2 Sam. xx 10 can only be the left. What this means, then, is
that like Eglon, Amasa had also died from an unexpected left-handed
thrust of the sword through his belly by someone not presenting himself
as a foe.
Incidentally, it is also worth noting that after Amasa has been killed,
the narrator reports in 2 Sam. xx 10 that his intestines poured out
onto the ground. This gory detail is reminiscent of the report in Judg.
iii 22 that Eglon’s excrement came out as a result of the stab to his
belly.
Secondly, a similar argument can also be made concerning the
implied left-handed thrust in the account of Joab’s assassination of
Amasa. Now in the Ehud account, Ehud’s left-handedness is significant
not only because it played on his tribal identity as a Benjamite or “son
of the righter-hander”, but also because it was this unexpected left-handedness
that allowed him to smuggle the weapon in by hiding it
on the side of his body where one would normally not expect a weapon
to be carried. But in the account of Joab’s assassination of Amasa,
although the author seems to have made it a point to note that Joab
grasped Amasa’s beard with his right hand, thus resulting in the deadly
thrust being delivered by the only other free hand, which is his left,
in the grand scheme of things, it actually would not have mattered
even had Joab grasped Amasa’s beard with his left hand such that the
weapon was deployed by his right (Admittedly, if Israelite society was one in which the proper use of the left versus the right hand was relatively well defined, then it would be unlikely that Joab would grasp Amasa’s beard with his left hand. But the point being made in the following
discussion would still stand. For if it is indeed natural and expected for Joab to grasp
Amasa’s beard with his right hand, then why bother specifying that the act was done
with the “right” hand? As it is, this unnecessary specification seems rather to draw
attention to the different activity each hand was occupied with). For from the description of the
assassination in 2 Sam. xx 9-10, one gets the impression that what
put Amasa off his guard was actually Joab’s unexpected display of
affection as he grasped his beard to kiss him (This is especially so given that Joab and Amasa had been fighting on opposing sides until not long ago.). Therefore, regardless
of which hand Joab might have used, Amasa would have been equally
surprised and distracted, thus giving Joab the opportunity to carry out
his assassination. What this means is that strictly speaking, the author

did not need to specify in 2 Sam. xx 9 that it was with the right hand

that Joab grasped Amasa’s beard. He could have simply left out the

word “right” and the overall plot would not have been affected in the

least. This suggests, therefore, that the subtle attempt to frame this

assassination as a left-handed one is not motivated by internal plot

necessity, but more likely, by a desire to provide a specific parallel
with Ehud.
Finally, there is the matter of the pouring out of Amasa’s intestines.
As has been noted, the description of Amasa’s intestines pouring out
after Joab’s sword was plunged into his belly is reminiscent of the
detail about Eglon’s excrement coming out after Ehud’s sword was
plunged into his belly. But here again, while the detail of Eglon’s
excrement coming out seems relevant to the advancement of the plot,
the description of Amasa’s intestines pouring out strikes one as unnecessary.
For in the case of Eglon, the foul smell that resulted from the
coming out of his excrement may have been what caused the attendants
outside to conclude that Eglon was relieving himself. This thus
explains their hesitancy to barge in, which in turn gave Ehud sufficient
time to escape. But the same plot relevance appears to be absent
regarding the detail about Amasa’s intestines. True, the sight of Amasa’s
corpse wallowing in blood in the middle of the road did become somewhat
of a distraction for the soldiers in 2 Sam. xx 12-13. But even
there, no further mention was made of the intestines. The focus was
instead only on the large quantity of blood, something to be expected
from a stab wound. Thus once again, one can argue that the detail
about Amasa’s intestines pouring out may have been included only to
provide a parallel with the Ehud account and not out of internal plot
necessity.
But if the above three observations indeed suggest that, from a
rhetorical standpoint, the assassination account of Ehud has priority
over the two concerning Joab, such that it is the latter two that make
allusions to the former, then what the author of the Joab accounts
seems to be doing was presenting Joab as a latter-day Ehud. 
At least as Bar-Efrat understands it, David’s condemnation of Joab in
1 Kgs. ii 5 refers essentially to the fact that “Joab did not kill Amasa in the course of battle but during times of peace, in the guise of friendship, when the victim suspected nothing.” Thus, to Bar-Efrat, what David objected to was “the treacherous way in which the murders
were implemented”.
But regardless of whether it is the assassinations themselves or
the treacherous way they were carried out that is the focus of the
condemnation against Joab, the simple fact is that Joab’s assassinations
are not presented as honourable acts. And in light of this overall negativity,
one can hardly give any part of the accounts a heroic reading.
And that brings us back to Ehud. If Joab’s two assassinations are
indeed meant to be understood negatively, then by virtue of the fact
that each makes allusions to Ehud, one can infer that there must have
been aspects of Ehud’s assassination that were also viewed negatively
by the author of the Joab accounts. And since the allusions seem to
concentrate especially on the use of deception, one can only conclude
that this use of deception must have been what was viewed negatively
by the author of the Joab accounts.
Furthermore, not withstanding the current debate about how Ehud
should be evaluated, this negative take of Ehud’s use of deception must
have been sufficiently well established among contemporaries of the
author of the Joab accounts for him to simply make the allusions without
having to worry about his audience missing the point. What this
seems to suggest, then, is that, a negative take on Ehud’s use of deception
may have early intra-biblical support, and is therefore not as “disturbing”
and counter intuitive as Andersson thinks. While this does
not necessarily justify a uniformly negative evaluation of Ehud such as
Klein’s, it does leave open the possibility that, in spite of a deliverance
that deserves be celebrated, there is room for disquietude when
it comes to Ehud’s use of deception.
So what could be made out of Ehud and Yoav? Clever trickster liberators or underhanded, sinister traitors? Benjamites, sons of the Right, yet dextrally challenged (the L-word, though mentioned elsewhere in the Tanakh, is implicit in both stories).
I know what my own humble opinion on these tales, as a proud, young, subversive sinistral, is.


PS. SINISTER STORMTROOPERS


Imperial Stormtroopers are all left-handed, speaking of which.

They were at first all cloned from the same cookie-cutter, Jango Fett; a sinistral cookie-cutter, and thus, all assault rifles produced by the Palpatinian Empire were made for left-handed marksmen, with the firing chamber on the left side.
As the ranks of the Empire broadened to include more and more non-clone troopers, including dextrals (and non-human humanoids), no right-handed guns were produced, leading to "set left," against their will, the non-sinistral members of the military.
For once, the left --at least in a fictional sci-fi universe-- is the default and the right is the deviance.

lunes, 24 de julio de 2017

THE DUCHESS'S BOY

Her Grace, The Duchess Stilzchen of the North-East Gnomes, set down the letter she’d been reading. She took off her spectacles and laid them on the desk. Raising a hand, she summoned a messenger. She instructed the messenger:

“Find the human boy Edward and have him meet me in the bramble-garden in half an hour; and tell the Cook to have tea and cakes ready, the kind the boy likes. We are to be alone in the garden, absolutely no-one else is to be there.”

She rose from her chair and taking the letter with her she strode towards the garden, the very picture of gnomish dignity from the top of her ruby cap down to the tips of her claws, and all the wattles and warts in between.

She was sitting on a bench when Edward came into the garden.

“Come here, my boy and sit here beside me – I’m going to have to give you some unpleasant news.” The human boy, Edward, did as he was bid and sat down on the bench with the Duchess.

“I fear, Edward, that you are soon to lose your human inheritance.”

Now the boy Edward was a human boy, eleven years old, not particularly tall or handsome or in any way remarkable in appearance for a human boy; what set him apart from other boys was the way in which he seemed completely at ease sitting not two feet away from a pointed eared, pointy-toothed, pointy-nosed gnome.

“That’s not so bad, your Ladyship, I never really wanted to live in the castle and have the Queen tell me what to do all the time,” answered Edward.

“Edward, my dear, you were born to be a king among the humans. It was only by sheer good fortune and human foolishness that you’ve had a chance to grow up among the gnomes. And a kingdom is a lot of wealth to give up so easily... I could try to speak to your mother the Queen one more time.”

“Please Ma’am, don’t trouble yourself. She doesn’t want me; you’ve tried before.”

The Duchess lowered her head until the dewlap under her chin lay across her broad bosom. “It’s my fault, you know, that your mother is that way. You know the story of how my nephew Rumple made a bargain with the Queen – that was before she was the Queen, just a common girl she was then – that he would help her make gold in exchange for her first born child.” Edward nodded yes.

“Well I know about making bargains with humans, and they are not to be trusted to keep their end of the agreement. And Rumple was such a fool to advance gold for credit – you must never do that with a human, remember that –“ The Duchess paused, looking intently at the boy.

“Yes Ma’am, never; I’ll never extend credit to a human,” he said.

“Good lad... So, knowing that Rumple would have a terrible time collecting on the debt, and seeing myself as eminently more credit-worthy than the Queen, I facilitated the exchange in advance by taking you in escrow....You look confused, Edward – I just mean that I kidnapped you at birth and replaced you with a place-holder I made from a turnip, some clay and some baby clothes... I didn’t actually do anything to you except make sure the Queen couldn’t hide you from Rumple when he came to collect. I didn’t tell Rumple. Poor Rumple wasn’t very bright, and I don’t think he could have carried out his part in getting back the place-holder prince from the Queen without letting the secret out if he’d known.

"Rumple had already promised me he’d give me the Prince to raise once he’d collected the baby from the Queen. So, if all had gone according to my plan, at the end of the exchange the Queen would have been childless, Rumple would have been so proud, and I would have the place-holder back. No-one except myself would ever know I’d already had you here in my home for a whole year.”

“So,” Edward said with a smile, “the Prince in the castle is a turnip-head! No wonder everyone says he’s so stupid.”

“I made the place-holder Prince too well, I’m afraid. He’s got dimples and blue eyes and golden hair in the perfect proportions for a boy, and he always does what his mother and teachers tell him.”

“That’s not very real,” said Edward.

“Well, there is another thing – I needed the place-holder to be believable for a whole year, so I entangled his enchantment with another baby born in the castle three days earlier. That way whatever the real baby did, the fake Prince would do, just three days later.”

“Like growing and crawling and stuff?”

“Yes. I hadn’t thought some things through entirely, such as how unlikely it would be for two real babies to have all of their teeth erupt in exactly the same order, but the humans were fooled.”

“Humans are pretty gullible.”

“Except you, my special boy!” The Duchess tousled the boy’s rather ordinary brown hair. “Now you know how the story goes – Rumple, poor fool, gives the Queen a chance to keep her baby, and ends up dead. Poor Rumple.” She pulled a large handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes. “Now to honor Rumple’s bargain, I had to return you, the real prince, to the Queen. I wrapped you up and sneaked into the nursery.  I hadn’t expected the Queen to be sitting there, singing to the fake prince.”

“Prince Turnip-Head!” Edward added.

“Yes, Edward, she was singing to Prince Turnip. She saw me and stopped singing. I quickly explained that I was going to give her back her real baby, and that I could take the fake-prince if she wanted, or I could turn him back into a turnip if she preferred. She didn’t comprehend a thing I said. She grabbed a broom and chased me, screaming her head off that someone was trying to take her baby. Well, that was almost true, but  -- “

“She didn’t want me” said Edward softly.

“It’s not that simple. She thought she had the perfect baby – that’s my fault, for being such a good enchantress. You on the other hand, were real; you had a poopy diaper, you were teething, and once she started chasing us with the broom you started crying like a baby-banshee. She preferred the illusion.”

“Stupid humans,” said Edward, with a tear sliding down one cheek.

“Now there,” said the Duchess, wiping his face with the handkerchief, “you are an excellent apprentice-magician, and one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. I’m so glad I got to bring you back home with me again that day.” Edward managed a small smile. She patted his cheek “That’s it, lad, a brave heart can smile even on a dark day.”

“If she attacked you with a broom, why didn’t you put a curse on her?” asked the boy.

“I was too busy running away to stop and curse her. If her aim with the broom had been any better neither of us would be alive today. I tried again to fulfill Rumple’s part of the bargain on your second birthday. The Queen used a torch instead of a broom to chase me away. On your third birthday she was waiting for us to appear and she set the dogs after us. I had to use magic to get away that time.”

“So you gave up.”

“No. The Queen was convinced a terrible creature was trying to steal her baby and replace it with a changeling. So I thought it would be wiser to let the Queen keep the fake-prince until she figured out on her own that he was a fake, and then she would want her real baby back. She still hasn’t figured it out, which says a lot about her intellect.”

“Stupid Queen,” muttered Edward.

“The child that the fake-prince is still imitating, three days behind, is the daughter of the Master of the Hunt and his wife, the Mistress of the Queen’s wardrobe. The Master of the Hunt has no sons, so he takes his daughter riding, hunting, tracking, and so forth, so the fake-prince has not been a completely girly-boy turnip-prince. However, new and important events have transpired.”

The Duchess picked up the letter she’d been reading earlier. “My informant among the drain-pipe dwarfs tells me that yesterday the daughter of the Master of the Hunt was seen kissing the son of the Sergeant-at-arms behind the old west barn.”

“Oh!” said Edward.

“This is a very intolerant kingdom, at least among the humans. The Queen will faint. The King will call the Bishop. The Bishop will blame the devil and will perform an exorcism. The exorcism will break my enchantment, and the fake-prince will revert to turnip and clay.”

“But then I can be Prince!”

“No. I wish it were so, but the Queen will declare that someone has stolen her blond-haired, blue-eyed boy with dimples, and that the turnip was a changeling. Although this is mostly true, it won’t be quite true in the way she means it. Soon hundreds of young men and boys having blond hair, or blue eyes, or dimples, will begin appearing at the castle, each one claiming to be the lost prince.”

“But I’m the real Prince!” said Edward angrily.

“I know, dear boy, but we can’t prove it. Also, you aren’t blond or blue-eyed, and you don’t have dimples. We’d have to use a spell to make you look that way, and you’d have to pay your first-born child to buy that kind of spell.”

 “I don’t want to look like prince-turnip! Why should I have to change when I’m the real boy?”

Edward’s anger was mixed with tears, and the Duchess made use of her handkerchief again.

“I know, it doesn’t seem fair -- but the world isn’t about what is fair. We gnomes say that it is the sign of a greater heart to look for what is good instead of what is fair.”

“So I should look for something good to come out of all of this?” asked the boy, sniffling back tears.

The Duchess wrapped the boy in her loose-skinned gray arms and hugged him close. “Getting to see you learn and grow has been the greatest good thing that has ever happened to me, Edward. I hope someday you will see all the good you’ve done by being here.”  

“That was the problem, wasn’t it, that the fake-prince was too good-looking?” said Edward, his face against the fabric of her silk and burlap gown.

“That was my fault,” said the Duchess. “I didn’t know what a real human baby would look like. “

“And to get to look pretty enough to be the Prince I’d have to sell my first-born? And I’d never look like myself again?”

“That’s what it would cost.”

“I don’t want to be Prince that much.”

“Do you think you might want some honey cakes?”

The Duchess felt the boy nod against her shoulder. 

They sat for a while eating cakes and drinking tea. By the time the supper gong sounded they had finished all the cakes, and washed their faces in the fountain.  They’d talked about the problem of how sometimes people of all kinds were blinded by beauty, or lack of beauty, and how that had caused so many problems for Snow White, the Beast of Beauty and the Beast, and so many others. They’d agreed; the Gnomish way was best: look for a good bargain, buy low and sell high, and never be afraid to take a profit.


During the daytime Louise Quenneville is found sitting in front of a microscope. Evenings, she investigates the tracks that birds, squirrels, cats, mice, and children have left in the snow of her yard and imagines what might go on in the yard when she is away at work. Sometimes she works late and it is dark when she gets home; that's when the night creatures come out and things can get strange. Skunk tracks look much like cat tracks in the dark. Life is full of lessons.

lunes, 6 de marzo de 2017

CHANGELINGS IN MACONDO

Why, why...
can we never be sure till we die
or have killed for an answer?
Why, why...
do we suffer each race to believe
that no race has been grander?
It seems because through time and space,
though names may change, each face retains the mask it wore.
Indeed. Swap the twins in the cradle, like changelings -elven child for human child and vice versa-, and you will question that nomen est omen. And you will find out that neither names nor clothes make the person.

José Arcadio II is a realistic and reflexive young man with a crippling fear of being buried alive worthy of an E.A. Poe narrator, who becomes a survivor of military repression in the rebellion he leads, and then spends his autumn years in beginning to translate the manuscripts of Melquíades; while Aureliano II is the hot-blooded, passionate twin who flaunts his fortune by using banknotes as wallpaper, and then, upon falling on hard times, spending the rest of his healthspan on a fruitless quixotic treasure hunt that he always hopes will churn something up. Significantly, both the active and the contemplative twin, both the Jacob with Esau's name and the Esau with Jacob's name, the obverse and the reverse of the same coin (which brings us to the question of what to regard as omote/ura or obverse/reverse, since these concepts, like left and right, are in the eye of the beholder...) die at EXACTLY THE SAME time and it is what happens then that closes the circle of their swapped lives.

Changelings switched twice in life: first in the cradle and not for a second time until in the grave. For a whole lifetime, they were unaware of the switch that only death can undo.

This is only one of the many circular narratives within circular narratives in the structure of 100 Years of Solitude: circles within circles within circles that constantly criss-cross one another, just like in the fabric of real life.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Why, why... 
can we never be sure till we die 
or have killed for an answer? 
Why, why... 
do we suffer each race to believe 
that no race has been grander? 
It seems because through time and space, 
though names may change, each face retains the mask it wore.

En efecto. Intercambia a los gemelos en la cuna, como si fueran changelings o niños cambiados -criatura élfica por criatura humana y viceversa- y pondrás en tela de juicio que nomen est omen. Y descubrirás que ni el nombre ni el hábito hacen al monje o a la monja.
José Arcadio II es reflexivo y realista, con un miedo irracional a ser enterrado vivo digno de un narrador interno de E.A. Poe, es un superviviente a la represión militar de la revuelta que lideró y que por ende, a continuación, pasa el ocaso de su vida empezando la tarea de traducir los manuscritos de Melquíades; por otro lado, Aureliano II es el gemelo con fuego en las venas, apasionado, que muestra al mundo su fortuna empapelando las paredes con billetes de banco y, tras caer en la miseria, se dedica a una infructuosa y quijotesca caza del tesoro de la que siempre espera sacar resultados. Lo más relevante es que tanto el gemelo activo como el contemplativo, tanto el Jacob con nombre de Esaú como el Esaú con nombre de Jacob, el anverso y el reverso de la misma moneda (lo cual nos lleva a la cuestión de qué ha de considerarse el anverso y el reverso, ya que estas nociones, como las de izquierda y derecha, están en los ojos de quien mira...) mueren EXACTAMENTE EN EL MISMO INSTANTE, y es el suceso consiguiente el que cierra el círculo de sus vidas intercambiadas.
Niños cambiados dos veces en la vida: la primera vez en la cuna; la segunda no antes del sepulcro. Durante toda la duración de sus vidas paralelas, ignoraban el intercambio que sólo la muerte puede deshacer.
Esta es sólo una de las muchas narraciones circulares dentro de narraciones circulares que componen Cien años de soledad: círculos dentro de círculos dentro de círculos en constante intersección, exactamente como en la vida real.

miércoles, 10 de agosto de 2016

REÐASAFN RARITIES

The title of this post comes from the Phallological Museum/Phallotèque of Reykjavik, which I have visited during this one-week Icelandic adventure (returning to Sweden tonight).

It contains a Folklore Section with formol-preserved penises of male cryptids and magical creatures, the way it sounds, including (now with scientific names, quoted verbatim):

  • Changeling: Nanus subterraneus subditus joekuldalensis
  • Näkki/Kelpie (in horse form): Equus fabulosus aquaticus islandicus
  • Foxcat/catfox ("skuggabaldur," lit. "shadow Balder:" half housecat and half Arctic fox, allegedly the hybrid offspring of these two carnivores --though, in real life, members of the Felis genus cannot reproduce with Alopex specimens--; a fearsome beast that kills sheep and even humans with a single glance): Alopex-Felis islandicus / Felis-Alopex islandicus
  • Urda's cat (a huge necrophagous feral housecat; Urda is the Norn of the Past): Felis catus necrophaga thingmulensis
  • Troll: Homo gigantus islandicus
  • Elf (Icelandic elves are High Men and Women, just like Tolkien elves; i.e. a historical or fantastic interpretation of what humans are or want to be, at least in character): Homo sapiens obscurus / Homo sapiens mysticus invisibilis
  • Milkhare ("tilberi" in Icelandic: witches' pet, steals milk straight from the cow's udder): Costa humana lactea lanata
  • One-eyed, one-footed, and one-handed merman (fjörulalli, pushes humans into the ocean and preys on them): Homo unipes, unimanus et luscus maritimus
  • Merbull (mercattle: the underwater cattle of merfolk): Bos taurus aquaticus islandicus
  • Elven billy goat: Caper hircus obscurus conglaciatus
  • Elven ram (elves, like merfolk, also keep livestock more productive than that of the humans): Ovis aries mysticus hnallthorensis
  • The dreaded Draugur (undead, ice-cold zombie-like undead person, think White Walker) of Snæfellsjökull (the glacier volcano through which the Germans went into the Centre of the Earth in Verne's novel): Umbra malefica snaefiallensis
  • One of the 13 Yuletide Lads (the thirteen trolls that bring gifts to Icelandic children during the second Advent fortnight leading up to Christmas Eve): Homo natalicus islandicus
  • Naddi (this dreaded monster appears to have been some kind of mer-centaur; he attacked and killed travellers on the coastal path around Njardvík, but was forced into the ocean by a brave farmer): Monstrum terribilis njardvicensis (Orkney Island lore has also a version called the Nuckelavee, with Funko Pop proportions, one cyclopean red hot glowing eye, and a whole physique as skinless as an AoT titan!)