Degenerescence by James Chapman

Author:James Chapman [Chapman, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-12-31T20:00:00+00:00

the ocean to boil,

the mountain to crumble,

the birds to explode in the sky,

the eyes of the fish to turn to fire,

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the children to grow to a thousand miles in length,

the songs to turn to snow,

the speeches to turn to goat’s milk,

the trees to turn to fountains of sugar,

the houses to fill with pink smoke,

the multitudes of humans to fall into the dust,

the multitudes of insects to raise into the sky.

That is how her daughters spoke to WOE.

WOE heard them. Then as they watched, WOE spoke one word.

It was a word they did not know. And the ocean boiled, the mountain crumbled, the birds exploded in the sky, the eyes of the fish turned to fire, the children grew to a thousand miles in length, the songs turned to snow, the speeches turned to goat’s milk, the trees turned to fountains of sugar, the houses filled with pink smoke, the multitudes of humans fell into the dust, the multitudes of insects raised into the sky.

Seven daughters saw these. They became persons who spoke with great care, terrible care.

They became those persons you see who do not speak. It is too hard to speak. Only to ask for bread, this means the statement or prayer, “bread.” To speak “bread” is to pray to these things:

“food” things “dry” things

“soft” things

“brown” things “light” things “smaller” things “scent” things “grain” things “plant” things “growing” things “flour” things

“yeast” things “heated” things “taste” things

Minutes of thought and attention will pass before “bread” can be fully spoken.

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So that to speak such an utterance as: “The girl with the copper skin has injured her hand by pulling on the fishnet, so that her blood is falling on the sand of the beach,”

this would take too much care, too much care. Such speaking is for a great saint to speak. Such speaking is beyond the height of the sky.

For us on this island, the story telling stopped within us, within us the voice of STORY feared to speak. Such sudden lack of stories was a new thing upon the earth. Now the listeners blinked their eyes. Now the listeners cleared their ears. Now the listeners stopped hearing a story, they stopped seeing vivid gods, they turned from listeners into persons. Instead of a story, they now had light, and food, smell of a hut, a face of a wife which is better than all descriptions, a bird call better than songs, an island better than stories.

Here is the explanation. When WOE first spoke, she spoke a poem, the creation of the world was a poem or song. WOE spoke a poem 100,000 slokas in length, scattering all objects throughout the world, also making the shapes of things. The way the sea leans on the land, that was formed of a sloka or verse. The tree in the ground is “tree” and “ground” but they were put together first in lines in the poem.

Sometimes the person who is story teller will say a sentence that makes the listener feel uncanny. Bright WOE raises her head, we are in the place of calm, we see a shining metal, we see the curving sky.

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