Notes

idumea/content/afterword.tex

@@ -1,13 +1,14 @@
 \chapter*{Appendix I — Notes}
+\label{notes}
 
 \paragraph{Page \pageref{prophet}}
 From \emph{The Prophet.}
 
-I had originally intended to use the lyrics from the hymn titled ``Idumea'', which is included in the next appendix, but– ah! For some reason, it did not fit. I could not tell you why, dear reader. Perhaps it was the strong Christian nature of the text after a certain point, which fit strangely for the Odists, notably Jewish as they are. It, after all, is what spurred the language at the end of my\ldots we sall call it a little meltdown at the end, there, yes?
+I had originlly intended to use the lyrics from the hymn titled ``Idumea'', which is included in the next appendix, but– ah! For some reason, it did not fit. I could not tell you why, dear reader. Perhaps it was the strong Christian nature of the text after a certain point, which fit strangely for the Odists, notably Jewish as they are. It, after all, is what spurred the language at the end of my\ldots we shall call it a little meltdown at the end, there, yes?
 
 Perhaps it was that, as the story filled out within the middle, it just did not fit. I, Rye, suffered, perhaps. I wailed, ``What will become of me?'' I am the one who was overcome by overflow. I promise you, my friends, I \emph{promise} you, however, that this is not my story. The judgment is upon my head for what I have done, but it is not my story. This story belongs to The Woman.
 
-No. Instead, I chose the words of Almustafa, the chosen and the beloved. The Woman was life and she was the veil. We are eternity and the System is the mirror.
+No. Instead, I chose the words of Almustafa, the chosen and the beloved. The Woman was life and she was the veil. We are eternity and the System is the mirror.\pagebreak
 
 \paragraph{Page \pageref{pinocchio}}
 Cf. Collodi:
@@ -42,7 +43,9 @@ aber versuchen will ich ihn.
 Ich kreise um Gott, um den uralten Turm,\\
 und ich kreise jahrtausendelang;\\
 und ich weiß noch nicht: bin ich ein Falke, ein Sturm\\
-oder ein großer Gesang. 
+oder ein großer Gesang.
+
+\secdiv
 
 I live my life in ever-widening circles\\
 that stretch themselves out over the world.\\
@@ -55,6 +58,33 @@ and I still don't know: am I a falcon,\\
 a storm, or a great song? 
 \end{verse}
 
+\paragraph{Page \pageref{timo}}
+Cf. my own work:
+
+\begin{verse}
+Inter ĝuo kaj timo\\
+Estas loko de tro da signifo.\\
+Apud kompreno, ekster saĝo,\\
+Tamen ĝi tutampleksas.\\
+Mi kompareble malgrandas\\
+Kaj ĝi tro granda estas.\\
+Nekomprenebla\\
+Nekontestebla,\\
+Senmova kaj ĉiam ŝanĝiĝema.
+
+\secdiv
+
+Between joy and fear\\
+Is a place of too much meaning.\\
+Next to understanding, outside wisdom,\\
+It nonetheless expands.\\
+I’m so small beside it\\
+and it is too big.\\
+Incomprehensible,\\
+Incontestible,\\
+Unmoving and always changing.
+\end{verse}
+
 \paragraph{Page \pageref{blake}}
 From Blake:
 
@@ -137,6 +167,18 @@ And she felt growth accelerate as, bound now to the earth, her bones became wood
 
 \noindent Do I repeat myself? Very well, I repeat myself. I am beholden to my dreams.
 
+And yet, ah–! When writing the final chapter, even through the heat of the moment and the blood rushing in my ears, I began to feel within a flush of embarrassment. How indulgent it is to share this again! How indulgent, my friends, to let the dream take me again that it might shape my words! Even as I wrote, even as I cried, sitting at my desk (or trying to!), sobbing in front of my words, I struggled with feeling like this was somehow \emph{too} indulgent.
+
+I strive still to stifle that puritanical worrywart within, even so many years on.
+
+\paragraph{Page \pageref{nasturtiums}}
+The Musician shared with me a letter and My Friend several journal entries, but, ah–! If I share them here, I will fall once more to crying. You may find them in their entirety in \emph{Marsh}, a work written by a braver me.
+
+I will say, however, that that letter surrounded nasturtiums and was written the night Muse quit, and those diary entries were written by My Friend, a recounting of Beckoning's memories, to comfort The Musician in her grief.
+
+\paragraph{Page \pageref{motes}}
+I have written extensively on these hyper-black shapes that The Child paints and more about her besides in \emph{Motes Played}. A little book for little skunks, yes? For she deserves her story told—and just so! Just like this! A tale written in a style befitting her—as much as does The Woman.
+
 \paragraph{Page \pageref{psalm13}}
 From Psalm 13:2--4:
 
@@ -169,6 +211,46 @@ What gain is there for man in all his toil that he toils under the sun?
 Everything was from the dust, and everything goes back to the dust.
 \end{quote}
 
+\paragraph{Page \pageref{milosz}}
+Cf. Miłosz:
+
+\begin{verse}
+a nastąpią niewinne wschody słońca\\
+nad florą i fauną wyzwoloną
+
+na pofabrycznych pustkowiach\\
+wyrosną dębowe lasy\\
+krew rozszarpanego przez wilki jelenia\\
+nie będzie przez nikogo widziana\\
+jastrząb będzie spadać na zająca\\
+bez świadków
+
+zniknie ze świata zło\\
+kiedy zniknie świadomość
+
+rzeczywiście panie Tadeuszu\\
+zło (i dobro) bierze się z człowieka
+
+\secdiv
+
+the innocent sunrise will illuminate\\
+a liberated flora and fauna
+
+where oak forests reclaim\\
+the postindustrial wasteland\\
+and the blood of a deer\\
+torn asunder by a pack of wolves\\
+is not seen by anyone\\
+a hawk falls upon a hare\\
+without witness
+
+evil disappears from the world\\
+and consciousness with it
+
+Of course, dear Tadeusz,\\
+evil (and good) comes from man. 
+\end{verse}
+
 \paragraph{Page \pageref{rilke-doyousee}}
 Cf. Rilke:
 
@@ -177,11 +259,30 @@ Weißt du's \emph{noch} nicht? Wirf aus den Armen die Leere\\
 zu den Räumen hinzu, die wir atmen; vielleicht daß die Vögel\\
 die erweiterte Luft fühlen mit innigerm Flug.
 
+\secdiv
+
 Do you not understand \emph{yet?} Fling from your arms the emptiness\\
 into the spaces we breathe. It may be that the birds\\
 will feel the expanded air in more spirited flight.
 \end{verse}
 
+\paragraph{Page \pageref{ashes}}
+From Dickinson:
+
+\begin{verse}
+Ashes denote that Fire was —\\
+Revere the Grayest Pile\\
+For the Departed Creature’s sake\\
+That hovered there awhile —
+
+Fire exists the first in light\\
+And then consolidates\\
+Only the Chemist can disclose\\
+Into what Carbonates.
+\end{verse}
+
+\noindent We have always borne an obsession with Emily Dickinson. For years and years, and years and years and years she has lived within us, a remnant of some stage play we performed with our superlative friend, centuries back now.
+
 \paragraph{Page \pageref{baudelaire}}
 Cf. Baudelaire via Eliot:
 
@@ -189,6 +290,8 @@ Cf. Baudelaire via Eliot:
   \emph{Fourmillante cité, cité pleine de rêves,\\
   Où le spectre en plein jour raccroche le passant.}
 
+  \secdiv
+
   Unreal city, city full of dreams,\\
   Where ghosts in broad daylight cling to passsers-by.
 \end{verse}
@@ -210,10 +313,30 @@ Cf. Cummings:
   a million billion trillion stars.
 \end{verse}
 
+\paragraph{Page \pageref{x}}
+I used for this work a multiplication sign (×) for the section dividers, and, my dear friends, I am still coming to terms with this decision.
+
+There are so many possible meanings!
+
+Are we together, The Woman and I, multiplied? When she and I, when her story and mine, are intermingled, is it some greater story? My lovely readers, I hope so! I really do. I really hope, of course, that my myriad interruptions bear their own meaning and add to the whole of things, that we together are greater than the sum of the parts. I doubt and I hope in equal measure.
+
+Are we crossed? Do we as ideas lay across each other perpendicularly? The Woman fell into stillness and I fall still through eternal, jittery, restless movement. The woman set aside her agency, in the end, and I strive for any sense of control over myself, my language, my words and sentences and paragraphs and stories. We are diametrically opposed in so many ways. We cross each other, our paths cross each other's, we approached at a ninety degree angle, and, in the end, departed at such an angle.
+
+Are we set beside each other as some fictional love? Some two characters set within fan fiction who love each other in a way pure or unchaste in others' minds? Do I love her? Do I love The Woman? Did she love me?
+
+I do not know, my dear readers. I do not know these things and I do not know many more.
+
+Perhaps, though, perhaps the × stands for the decision that I made. It is the role I played in letting The Woman, that beautiful soul who bestowed a blessing with every smile, step away from the world, for removing those blessings from us, that beauty from us, that life, that veil.
+
+I am so, so incredibly sorry, and also rather proud of what I have done, of helping The Woman in so noble an endeavor, in equal measure.
+
+\paragraph{Page \pageref{notes}}
+Cf. Nabokov's \emph{Pale Fire.}
+
 % Make sure this is verso
-%\newpage
-%\null
-%\newpage
+\newpage
+\null
+\newpage
 \includepdf[fitpaper=true]{hymn.pdf}
 
 \chapter*{Appendix II — Idumea}
@@ -313,7 +436,7 @@ If you have seen cladists out and about on the web, the chances are good that yo
 \section*{The story so far}
 \label{backstory}
 
-The story told within \emph{Idumea} is in many ways standalone. However, there are some references and names scattered throughout taken from other books in the setting. Here follows some basics leading up to this.
+The story told within \emph{Idumea} is in many ways standalone. However, there are some references and names scattered throughout taken from other books in the setting, and, should you not already know them, learning will deepen understanding.. Here follows some basics leading up to this.
 
 % * Sasha and AwDae
 % * The Ode
@@ -376,7 +499,7 @@ everdream.space
 \vspace{0.7em}
 {\DisplayFont\small Krzysztof “Tomash” Drewniak}
 
-cohost.org/krzysz00
+kdrewniak.com
 
 \vfill
 \end{center}