Á Deux

14

Gasping spirit of mine…

Just greaves flicker…

Catch up, weakling –

On cloud nine!

M. Tsvetayeva. “Over the mountains…”

- Would you like to share another story with me?

- No. Pain doesn’t pass off… Maybe it is just about time to hear what is going on out there, on the other side. Not that I care to know what to expect, I am ready for anything. But I am here; they are there… What is to be done?

- “There…” Terra, sera, chimera… That you are ready is good. May I ask what does your bravery rest on?

- I do not know whether my earthly experience has any value. That is, I doubt if it has, but that doesn’t matter. What it amounts to in an eternity I could not fathom. So, if it’s worth anything, it will stay with me; if not – that would be a top dollar for my life.

- I understand. Well, in this case, I will not be concocting any promises. I think you are familiar with all foresights. People are trying hard torturing their imagination. But why these predictions put you off?

- They are all based on the idea that man craves for consolation. What consolation could there be? What is it for?

- How about sailing not from consolation but inducement?

- …

- The suffering that you defend so insistently continues. You are abashed by a specific form that it has taken. You are also right that similar or even exceeding records of others do not explain anything. Your pain will go nowhere and would not subside. Get used to it as to a part of new experience – not reduced or distorted one but new, unfamiliar to you before.

You have discovered earthly love. You gave it all you had, and took from it everything it could offer you. Perhaps you would want to hold indefinitely this feeling of plentitude, but you both are bound to have something even more exciting.

After all, you have been given love almost to the full extent. It lacked only despair from loss. Now you have this experience too; your loved one probably would not need it, or she has managed to obtain it in her own way thanks to the singularity of her gift and character. But in all vastitude of being, such fullness is not ultimate; new sensations and revelations follow.

In this situation where you are alive and she is not, you still have a chance to grow. Your grief is paved with pure gold. She has gone first. You seem to have dreamed of the certain foggy avenue, I hope you have not made it up – promised her a stroll and then buzzed off. Catch up!

- There is a wall, an edge… You are not suggesting suicide, are you?

- You are open and receptive to all other things, but here you are sure to know everything. How come?

- I am nudging you inculcate in me what I do not know.

- Edge… You think mainly of yourself, of your inability to see, hear or touch. But this barrier is felt from other side too. The difference is that they know everything about you; they have their experience of earthly life, just have lost means of gaining it. Whereas their new sensation is quite an unheard of kettle of fish to you – as simple as that. They are open to meeting you, unless they lose interest in human world… Could you imagine that happening to her; that she forgot, abandoned you?

- …

- There you have it. You possess more capabilities to maintain your affair. She cannot get back, but there are plenty of alternatives up ahead of you. You can slowly – or in full speed – start catching up with her as soon as you make up your mind.

- Mesmerizing! Still, it is a ‘leap of faith.’ Let’s say I am ready – what’s next?

- You might not need leaping. All the more that “jumpers” are under suspicion to you. In any case, this voluntary stunt is also a metaphor; it simply describes two states that have no common attributes. Almost, as a wave and a particle. Look for the third state.

I recall one instance in our invented dispute when you have flipped out about the reference to the impenetrability of the last mystery of the Universe, as a ruse for those who run out of arguments. Why don’t you explore your surmise further? People often consider the last mystery of the creative process to be unexplainable. One of them 11 assumed it to be the most profound and arcane of all mysteries of the Universe: “Here nature does not tolerate voyeurism; it harshly draws the curtain,” he wrote. But isn’t it the same petty ruse? Can’t we do without excuses?

You have no doubts that creativity exists. How do you know that? You compare nature, universe, and men with artworks considering all of these products of creativity. However, you miss the critical point: nature yields no hints of the creative process, whereas an artwork starts with lifting the curtain; it engages you in a creative process by its very existence. No wonder one of such products the previously mentioned author called “a magic line.” That is a sought-after language, gently, effortlessly expressing the mystery of otherworldliness. And man hears the “grass growing.”

- Good. Now I could clarify the statement that you have caught me on at the beginning. You claim that geniuses are still there but I have not heard about them and the public is not interested. I reject this version. There are plenty of great talents, and they are widely known, otherwise we would turn into a mob long ago. I do not mean those who have a gift and learned substantial skills. I am talking about a rare magic touch to fling open a window through which a non-stoppable flow of harmony and beauty enters our life. It is possible that such flair has nothing to do with inspiration and I am ready to take my reproach back. But I stand firm that geniuses of that kind trickled out.

I do not know whether it could be reckoned as our fault, but at least up to now, this cantus has not been interrupted – new waves had been born in advance and were ready to replace the existing ones. Without them, we would not be able to hear “grass growing.”

- Ah, it is such a cryptic thing where they are coming from; perhaps more complex than the finest tuning. I’ll say this: it is magic to me; I can do nothing but feel proud that it became possible in this world. Could it be that it is time for this force which, of course, has not gone anywhere, also keep mum, and regroup before a new advent. And this time it will be your advent, which would be only fair. You for instance, still keep silent.

- I am no object, do not count on me. My makings are worth no mentioning.

- Why so? A mustard seed is not one of rice size or even buckwheat’s, much smaller. That much faith anyone can attain. You better not confuse faith with desire – moving mountain is a ludicrous or rather destructive business.

- You are tormenting me! You gave me a chance to take a look behind confines; inspired with the idea of a long story, even let me get carried away with a prediction that has come true literally. Otherwise, how would I manage to describe the gloom of loneliness? You drove me to madness out of which the words of prayer, the scream of desperation came to my protagonist. Why have you not prepared me?

- But where have you been all that time?

- …

- So, what are you lamenting about? Something has been revealed to you then; and if it was enough for you, if you were happy about what you accomplished, and have just written it off – take a lesson now.

- Yes, that is what you have revealed to me. Now it’s time to hit you with some of my stuff, so that you hear the bell. I am loosing not one infinitely precious life but two; the end of one lead to a widespread sorrow. It was noticed and bewailed; while the other one remains unknown, hidden from anyone, not mourned, not yet elapsed – caught in the interim between here and there. It has come beforehand, and when nature brings it in sync with the physical fact, nobody would know what is there to bemoan – everything will be long reduced to ashes…

- DRY UP! NONE OF THAT! HOW DARE YOU?

- …

- YOU HAVE SPENT DECADES NEXT TO THE LIFE ITSELF – IS IT TOO SHORT FOR YOU? WHAT HAVE YOU MADE OF THIS HALF OF CENTENIUM? YOU HAVE NOT EVEN HEEDED HER LAST WORDS!

- Easy, easy… You are going to kill me…

- YOU ARE NOT AFRAID OF DYING. SO, OFF WITH YOU! ALTOGETHER WITH YOUR STOICAL SUFFERING AND STITCHED UP LIPS. IDLE KNIGHT… WHAT THE HELL DO YOU NEED? NOT ENOUGH GENIUSES? YOU GOT SO CLUTCHED BU THE OLD ONES, ATTEND THEM SO TIGHTLY, THAT YOU ARE ABLE TO SEE NOBODY BUT THEM. WELL, GET UNCLUTCHED! THEY DO NOT NEED YOUR CATERING. QUIT FEEDING ON THEIR BLOOD. YOU DARE TO DISCUSS THE VALUE OF EXPERIENCE, DEMAND EVERYONE TO ENDURE NEW FEELINGS – BUT FEAR TO TAKE ONE STEP FROM YOUR OWN? AND ON TOP OF THAT, YOU BLUSTER TO BRING THEM TO ME? I HAVE THESE FEELINGS OF YOURS COMING OUT FROM MY EARS! YOU ARE ASHAMED, YOU SAY? I THINK YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE SHAME IS. WHAT DO YOU CORRELATE YOURSELF WITH? WHAT MIND ARE YOU TRYING WHIP INTO SHAPE? CAN YOU CREATE A DROP OF DEW?

- …

- THE WORLD IS NOT EBBING, BUT IT CAN WITHER OUT FOR YOU. AND I WOULD NOT MOVE A FINGER TO ACCOMMODATE YOUR QUERIES. YOU WILL NOT HAVE SIGNS – YOU HAVE NOT EARNED THEM!