Thursday 31 October 2013

Moby Dick, or, The Whale,-Selected Chapters, 72, 'The Monkey Rope'..

In the tumultuous business of cutting-in and attending to a whale, there is much running backwards and forwards among the crew. Now hands are wanted here, and then again hands are wanted there. There is no staying in any one place; for at one and the same time everything has to be done everywhere. It is much the same with him who endeavors the description of the scene. We must now retrace our way a little. It was mentioned that upon first breaking ground in the whale’s back, the blubber-hook was inserted into the original hole there cut by the spades of the mates. But how did so clumsy and weighty a mass as that same hook get fixed in that hole? It was inserted there by my particular friend Queequeg, whose duty it was, as harpooneer, to descend upon the monster’s back for the special purpose referred to. But in very many cases, circumstances require that the harpooneer shall remain on the whale till the whole tensing or stripping operation is concluded. The whale, be it observed, lies almost entirely submerged, excepting the immediate parts operated upon. So down there, some ten feet below the level of the deck, the poor harpooneer flounders about, half on the whale and half in the water, as the vast mass revolves like a tread-mill beneath him. On the occasion in question, Queequeg figured in the Highland costume- a shirt and socks- in which to my eyes, at least, he appeared to uncommon advantage; and no one had a better chance to observe him, as will presently be seen.
Being the savage’s bowsman, that is, the person who pulled the bow-oar in his boat (the second one from forward), it was my cheerful duty to attend upon him while taking that hard-scrabble scramble upon the dead whale’s back. You have seen Italian organ-boys holding a dancing-ape by a long cord. Just so, from the ship’s steep side, did I hold Queequeg down there in the sea, by what is technically called in the fishery a monkey-rope, attached to a strong strip of canvas belted round his waist.
It was a humorously perilous business for both of us. For, before we proceed further, it must be said that the monkey-rope was fast at both ends; fast to Queequeg’s broad canvas belt, and fast to my narrow leather one. So that for better or for worse, we two, for the time, were wedded; and should poor Queequeg sink to rise no more, then both usage and honor demanded, that instead of cutting the cord, it should drag me down in his wake. So, then, an elongated Siamese ligature united us. Queequeg was my own inseparable twin brother; nor could I any way get rid of the dangerous liabilities which the hempen bond entailed.
So strongly and metaphysically did I conceive of my situation then, that while earnestly watching his motions, I seemed distinctly to perceive that my own individuality was now merged in a joint stock company of two; that my free will had received a mortal wound; and that another’s mistake or misfortune might plunge innocent me into unmerited disaster and death. Therefore, I saw that here was a sort of interregnum in Providence; for its even-handed equity never could have so gross an injustice. And yet still further pondering- while I jerked him now and then from between the whale and ship, which would threaten to jam him- still further pondering, I say, I saw that this situation of mine was the precise situation of every mortal that breathes; only, in most cases, he, one way or other, has this Siamese connexion with a plurality of other mortals. If your banker breaks, you snap; if your apothecary by mistake sends you poison in your pills, you die. True, you may say that, by exceeding caution, you may possibly escape these and the multitudinous other evil chances of life. But handle Queequeg’s monkey-rope heedfully as I would, sometimes he jerked it so, that I came very near sliding overboard. Nor could I possibly forget that, do what I would, I only had the management of one end of it.
The monkey-rope is found in all whalers; but it was only in the Pequod that the monkey and his holder were ever tied together. This improvement upon the original usage was introduced by no less a man than Stubb, in order to afford to the imperilled harpooneer the strongest possible guarantee for the faithfulness and vigilance of his monkey-rope holder.
I have hinted that I would often jerk poor Queequeg from between the whale and the ship- where he would occasionally fall, from the incessant rolling and swaying of both. But this was not the only jamming jeopardy he was exposed to. Unappalled by the massacre made upon them during the night, the sharks now freshly and more keenly allured by the before pent blood which began to flow from the carcass- the rabid creatures swarmed round it like bees in a beehive.
And right in among those sharks was Queequeg; who often pushed them aside with his floundering feet. A thing altogether incredible were it not that attracted by such prey as a dead whale, the otherwise miscellaneously carnivorous shark will seldom touch a man.
Nevertheless, it may well be believed that since they have such a ravenous finger in the pie, it is deemed but wise to look sharp to them. Accordingly, besides the monkey-rope, with which I now and then jerked the poor fellow from too close a vicinity to the maw of what seemed a peculiarly ferocious shark- he was provided with still another protection. Suspended over the side in one of the stages, Tashtego and Daggoo continually flourished over his head a couple of keen whale-spades, wherewith they slaughtered as many sharks as they could reach. This procedure of theirs, to be sure, was very disinterested and benevolent of them. They meant Queequeg’s best happiness, I admit; but in their hasty zeal to befriend him, and from the circumstance that both he and the sharks were at times half hidden by the blood-muddled water, those indiscreet spades of theirs would come nearer amputating a leg than a tail. But poor Queequeg, I suppose, straining and gasping there with that great iron hook- poor Queequeg, I suppose, only prayed to his Yojo, and gave up his life into the hands of his gods.
Well, well, my dear comrade and twin-brother, thought I, as I drew in and then slacked off the rope to every swell of the sea- what matters it, after all? Are you not the precious image of each and all of us men in this whaling world? That unsounded ocean you gasp in, is Life; those sharks, your foes; those spades, your friends; and what between sharks and spades you are in a sad pickle and peril, poor lad.
But courage! there is good cheer in store for you, Queequeg. For now, as with blue lips and blood-shot eyes the exhausted savage at last climbs up the chains and stands all dripping and involuntarily trembling over the side; the steward advances, and with a benevolent, consolatory glance hands him- what? Some hot Cognac? No! hands him, ye gods! hands him a cup of tepid ginger and water!
“Ginger? Do I smell ginger?” suspiciously asked Stubb, coming near. “Yes, this must be ginger,” peering into the as yet untasted cup. Then standing as if incredulous for a while, he calmly walked towards the astonished steward slowly saying, “Ginger? ginger? and will you have the goodness to tell me, Mr. Dough-Boy, where lies the virtue of ginger? Ginger! is ginger the sort of fuel you use, Dough-boy, to kindle a fire in this shivering cannibal? Ginger!- what the devil is ginger?- sea-coal? firewood?- lucifer matches?- tinder?- gunpowder?- what the devil is ginger, I say, that you offer this cup to our poor Queequeg here.”
“There is some sneaking Temperance Society movement about this business,” he suddenly added, now approaching Starbuck, who had just come from forward. “Will you look at that kannakin, sir; smell of it, if you please.” Then watching the mate’s countenance, he added, “The steward, Mr. Starbuck, had the face to offer that calomel and jalap to Queequeg, there, this instant off the whale. Is the steward an apothecary, sir? and may I ask whether this is the sort of bitters by which he blows back the life into a half-drowned man?”
“I trust not,” said Starbuck, “it is poor stuff enough.”
“Aye, aye, steward,” cried Stubb, “we’ll teach you to drug it harpooneer; none of your apothecary’s medicine here; you want to poison us, do ye? You have got out insurances on our lives and want to murder us all, and pocket the proceeds, do ye?”
“It was not me,” cried Dough-Boy, “it was Aunt Charity that brought the ginger on board; and bade me never give the harpooneers any spirits, but only this ginger-jub- so she called it.”
“Ginger-jub! you gingerly rascal! take that! and run along with ye to the lockers, and get something better. I hope I do no wrong, Mr. Starbuck. It is the captain’s orders- grog for the harpooneer on a whale.”
“Enough,” replied Starbuck, “only don’t hit him again, but-”
“Oh, I never hurt when I hit, except when I hit a whale or something of that sort; and this fellow’s a weazel. What were you about saying, sir?”
“Only this: go down with him, and get what thou wantest thyself.”
When Stubb reappeared, he came with a dark flask in one hand, and a sort of tea-caddy in the other. The first contained strong spirits, and was handed to Queequeg; the second was Aunt Charity’s gift, and that was freely given to the waves.


FROM WIKIPEDIA...[ASTRAL PROJECTION]

Bible

Some have claimed that the Bible contains mentions of astral projection.
Carrington, Muldoon, Peterson, and Williams claim that the subtle body is attached to the physical body by means of a psychic silver cord.[16][17] 
The final chapter of the Biblical Book of Ecclesiastes is often cited in this respect: "Before the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be shattered at the fountain, or the wheel be broken at the cistern."[18]
Scherman, however, contends that the context points to this being merely a metaphor, comparing the body to a machine, with the silver cord referring to the spine.[19]
Paul's Second Epistle to the Corinthians is more generally agreed to refer to the astral planes;[20]
 "I know a man in Christ, fourteen years ago, (whether in the body I know not, or out of the body I know not, God knows) such a one caught up to the third heaven..."[21] This statement gave rise to the Visio Pauli, a tract that offers a vision of heaven and hell, a forerunner of visions attributed to Adomnan and Tnugdalus as well as of Dante's Divine Comedy.

AND...ELSEWHERE....


Friday 25 October 2013

Cherry Blossoms

Film Review

By Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat


Cherry Blossoms
Directed by Doris Dorrie
Strand Home Video 01/09 DVD/VHS Feature Film
Not Rated

The Japanese have a term, "mono no aware," which refers to the fleeting nature of the world. This aesthetic and spiritual concept conveys "the slender sadness" of the human condition. We desire permanence but everything is constantly changing. Despite our efforts to control things, there is nothing we can cling to or hold on to. It is best to savor the moment of beauty as it passes in the tender loving touch of a lover, in the purr of an adoring and peaceful cat, in the energetic leap of a dancer, in the gentle swaying of trees in the breeze.
The impermanence of life is at the core of Cherry Blossoms, an exquisite German film directed by Doris Dorrie (How to Cook Your Life). A wonderful sequence in the story takes place during the cherry blossom season at the beginning of spring in Japan. Hanami is celebrated for about ten days as families, friends, and visitors gather under trees while their pink and white flowers are in full bloom. The cherry blossom is seen as a symbol of beauty, awakening, and the transience of life. In a haiku, Issa has written:

"In the cherry blossoms' shade
There is no such thing as a stranger."
Trudi (Hannelore Elsner) and Rudi (Elmar Wepper) have been married for many years and live in a small Bavarian town. She is a dreamer interested in the arts and adventure. He works as a civil servant in the Department of Waste Management. She wanted to become a dancer and move to Japan. He is very much caught up in the regular routines of his life which he follows diligently: taking the train to work and eating a sandwich and an apple for lunch. She desires change, and he fears change. Despite their differences, they have forged a strong marriage and live alone now that their three children are grown.
Learning that Rudi only has a short time to live, Trudi convinces him to take a trip to Berlin to visit two of their children. He reluctantly agrees to go but is not excited by the journey. While she struggles to find the right moment to tell her husband about his imminent death, their two children, a son (Felix Eitner) with wife and kids, and a lesbian daughter (Birgit Minichmayr) and her lover, only have a limited amount of time to give to their parents. They make it quite clear that they have little in common across the generations.
Trudi decides to leave Berlin for a visit to the Baltic Sea, a place she finds romantic and soothing. While they are there, she unexpectedly dies peacefully in her sleep. Rudi returns to their home and is unable to cope with his feelings of loneliness and guilt. For the first time in his life, he realizes that he never really honored Trudi's deepest yearnings. Since her life always pointed to Japan, he decides to visit his youngest son Karl (Maximilian Brueckner) who lives and works in Tokyo.
Dorie Dorrie is a spiritually sensitive German film director who has made a remarkable and touching film about impermanence, death, grief, and the healing power of creativity. With a Zen appreciation of small details, this drama is peppered with magical cinematic moments involving water, mountains, dandelions, flies, and cherry blossoms. The story of Rudi's spiritual journey to Japan unfolds slowly, and we are able to sense the courage it takes for him to make such a trip in order to commune in a very real way with Trudi. Karl, who has never been close to his father, spends a lot of time at work. He misses his mother and like Rudi regrets that he wasn't more attentive to her.
Rudi is delighted to be in Tokyo during Hanami, cherry blossom time. In an interview the filmmaker Dorrie states:

"One has to give love a chance to reveal itself in its greatest pain and strength. That's why the Japanese sit under the cherry blossoms, because they are tremendously beautiful when they are blooming. At the same time the pain over the fact that this period of blossoming is short-lived is tremendous as well. One has to catch the moment when they are actually blossoming, that's why they have people monitoring the trees. Because, if you miss that particular moment, that's it, for an entire year or possibly forever. In love, one has to keep at it, one has to give it the chance to blossom and, when it does, one has to actually be there to appreciate it. That's what it's all about; that each person, each plant, each animal is granted a moment when it can truly blossom and reveal itself. But what often happens to us, and to Rudi, is that we just keep suppressing it. We never allow our true self and our true beauty to reveal itself, to blossom like the cherry tree does."
In the park, Rudi sees and meets Yu (Aya Irizuki), a teenage Butoh dancer. He is drawn to her since Trudi had an immense fascination with this art form and yet never had a chance for it to blossom. She reveals that her dance is a communion with her deceased mother who loved talking on the phone. Yu's movements mirror her tribute to her and her playful encounter with shadow. One day Rudi shows up dressed in Trudi's skirt, sweater, and necklace beneath his coat. He surrenders himself to Yu who touches his heart with her craft and friendliness. That is why he chooses her to accompany him on a pilgrimage to Mount Fuji, a powerful place that Trudi reverenced from Bavaria. The moving finale to Cherry Blossoms is a tour de force which vividly conveys the inherent beauty and profundity of impermanence.

Reviews and database copyright © 1970 – 2012
by Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat

Tuesday 22 October 2013

Dobie Gray - Out On The Floor