Who am I ?: February 2008

The quotations on the two title-pages come from Herodotus, The Histories, trans. Aubrey de Sélincourt. 1954. Penguin Classics (London: Penguin, 2003), pp. 366-67 & 304.

The text on pp. 41-43 comes from Sabine Baring-Gould, A Book of Folk-Lore (London: Collins, n.d.), pp. 107-11.

By the time he climbed off at the wharf, he’d forgotten getting onto the boat. As for anything before that – the wave, the beach, the girl – it was lost in an irredeemable past.

“Where am I?” he wondered, as he followed the crowds down the gangplank, through the medley of barren thriftless shops flanking the street exit, and out into the vacancy of a summer afternoon.

“Who am I?”

There didn’t seem to be anyone to ask. Everyone was moving so fast, commuters rapt in their dream of home, that it seemed impertinent to break into their self-absorption, force himself upon their notice, beg to be redeemed.

Groping in the pocket of his jeans, he found a pencil. In the other pocket, the left one, there was a notebook:

READ ME

said the inscription on the cover.

Good, then he’d anticipated this … what could one call it? This absence of mind, this fugue, this flight from all that was stable and well-formed. Already the ferry itself was hard to grasp, drifting off into its own, self-generated mist.

“Forward,” his mind seemed to be saying, “Don’t dwell on all that.” There was nothing for it than acceptance of this concrete footpath, these bollards, this – yes – green-painted bench.

He sat down in the sun and started to read:

Procedure

The procedure is as follows:

• sit in darkness, pen poised on the paper
(loose blank sheets of A4)
• clear your mind
wipe reflections from the mirror
still the waters of the well
• don’t look at what you’re writing
(connections may be posited subsequently)

Rereading:

• Keep a level head
• Take careful note of names / dates / places
to check
• Themes & incidents may – or may not –
be significant
• Recovery may – or may not –
be a matter of years not days

Tuesday

1

Session 1 (4/9 – 8.44 a.m.):

mirrors were forbidden in the royal household

so princess tela had never seen herself

could she in fact have been said to know herself

lacking as she did that necessary self image

that sense of what can be seen through anothers eyes

of course she had seen other girls

the servants and ladies in waiting

who surrounded her at all times

she had to imagine she looked like one of them

waking this day unusually before dawn she

Tela and Sabra

The Princess and the Slumgirl

A Princess of Atlantis

A Princess of Lemuria √

2

Session 2 (6/9 – 8.37 a.m.):

the rumble of the earthquake woke her a little before dawn the glass of water at the head of her bed was still vibrating with a single ringing tone as the walls and beams of the palace creaked and groaned under the strain slipping out from under the smooth lion skin naked as she was born she walked to the window and stared out over the troubled city the darkness was broken here and there by flames screaming voices she couldnt be sure but she suspected one of the watchtowers had fallen there seemed to be some shift in the ridges of darkness which were all she could see in the penumbra

she felt on edge disturbed her nerves unnaturally alert thats how it generally was of course one couldnt simply turn over and go back to sleep after one of these events it was worse during the day in any case then one could sometimes feel the tremor approaching like a wave of upheaval rushing across the land smooth and irresistible all one could do was brace for the shock and wait till it was over

dont show fear that was the most important thing dont show fear that was what her father had told her not long before he died we have a position to safeguard people look up to us if any of us ever loses control then the others will too father never lost control not even when the mountain spewed flame that last time not even when he marched towards the lava flow holding the whip and flail he died like a king thats what they said about him shed only been a little girl at the time but she still remembered the spurt of hot tears blinding her at the last minute she hadnt turned her head away though that was what theyd been emphasizing to her for days you mustnt turn your head away so shed seen him die seen the lava grind across him as nonchalant as it was pitiless but the next day it stopped the day her uncle was anointed the new king

she shook her head this was no time to rake up those old memories only yesterday shed been telling herself that it was time to grow up take more interest in the conduct of the kingdom otherwise it might be truly said her father had died in vain as for her uncle she shuddered thinking of his bloated hateful face those fat white hands tufted with bristles shed learnt to avoid those hands ever since shed realised he wanted something from her not just to marry her off to one of her cousins consolidate the kingdom for himself and his family of toad like children but something unutterable for himself

dawn was beginning to break now over the harbour rim lighting up the docks and cranes the little ships moored out in the channel it was a rare day now that passed without a tremor of some kind so people had learned to live with them ships would

3

dart in to unload but they never stayed tied to the wharf a moment longer than necessary there were a few signs of damage down there but nothing too extensive so far as she could see only yes one of the ten watchtowers had fallen leaving a gap in the walls high up on the mountainside she shivered in the cold wind on her bare flesh time to get dressed if she delayed much longer the whole palace would be awake and shed be caught in another day of ritual observances somehow this day seemed made for more than that she had to get out talk to someone see fresh things

the trouble was all her clothes were made for the palace tight bodiced gowns that left the arms and breasts bare sweeping down to the floor in clotted folds she had a cloak though and an old athletic tunic left over from the days when shed been allowed to exercise out on the fields with the boys shrugging it over her shoulders she thanked her stars her hair had been cut short a few days before all her long locks cut off and burnt before the goddess a sacrifice they called it but it had left her looking like a boy

out in the street the day had already begun pedlars were selling spiced meats on skewers they smelt so good for a moment she regretted her breakfast waiting for her back in the palace but then shed have missed this sense of bustling purpose these thousands of faces clustering together gossiping trading insults the lively tangle of a hundred alleys

it had been surprisingly easy to sneak out of the palace perhaps it was because the whole complex was designed to keep people out all the guard towers and arrow slits faced outwards and shed known for years there was a hidden exit from the garden some of the servants used it when they had secret errands to run it was guarded of course but that just meant waiting till the guards attention was distracted in this case by some of the servant girls splashing and giggling naked as needles in the shallows of the fountain

where should she go her original plan had extended only as far as getting out of the palace out from under her uncle and his schemes shed thought perhaps of checking out the earthquake damage looking at the damaged tower but now she began to realise that that was where all eyes would soon be turned better to go anywhere else if she was keen on not getting caught the steep streets sloped down to the harbour so that was the way her feet had instinctively been taking her perhaps after all that was the best way to proceed

unutterable toad – clotted or fresh – the best way to proceed

Monday

4

Session 3 (7/9 – 8.42 a.m.):

Sabra settled back in the first-class [ ]
nervously awaiting her first [ ]
The stewardesses began their ritual of explaining [ ]
She was nervous about the long [ ]
and closed her eyes to block out the terrifying [ ]
fire, screaming passengers, broken windows, naked [ ]
Her eyes popped open with a [ ]
as she felt something [ ]
She blinked, and saw the stewardess’s pretty, smiling [ ]
The stewardess was covering her with a [ ]
“You looked cold,” the young Asian-featured woman [ ]
“I didn’t mean to wake you. First [ ]
“Um, yes. How did you [ ]
“After a few years, you learn to spot [ ]
The white knuckles on the armrest are the [ ]
“How long until we [ ]
“Another five or six hours. Maybe a bit more,” said the [ ]
“Oh,” said Sabra, a little [ ]
“Would you like me to sit [ ]
“But … don’t you have things you have to do? I [ ]
“Don’t worry about that. I know how tough it can [ ]
At that moment the plane gave a sudden [ ]
Sabra grabbed convulsively at the stewardess’s [ ]
“Calm down, love. Really, it’ll be [ ]
She eased her long legs into the seat [ ]
“Where are you [ ]
“Atlantis,” replied Sabra, adding that she was going to visit a [ ]
“By the way, my name’s [ ]
“Sabra. Pleased to meet you, [ ]
“Hmmmm, that’s an unusual [ ]
“My folks actually named me [ ]
but Sabra has stuck with me since I was [ ]

5

“Oh, but Sapphora is such a beautiful [ ]
Keiko said, with twinkling [ ]
They continued to talk, Keiko trying to ease Sabra’s [ ]
caressing her [ ]
and even hugging her when the fear became [ ]
Sabra began to notice that she was getting aroused by Keiko’s [ ]
She looked into the stewardess’s [ ]
Without a word, and without [ ]
Keiko stroked Sabra’s [ ]
Sabra’s nipples stiffened at her [ ]
her hand slid up Keiko’s [ ]
brushing the side of her [ ]
Keiko smiled, then whispered in her [ ]
“You like me, don’t you? That friend you’re going to [ ]
– it’s a [ ]
Sabra felt her senses [ ]
as Keiko’s cunning fingers began to steal their way under her [ ]
and do the most wickedly inventive things to her [ ]
“You’d like me to fuck you, wouldn’t you?” breathed the [ ]
“Yes,” gasped Sabra. “But [ ]
I could make you [ ]
but I think we both [ ]
Wait [ ]
It was as if she’d been hypnotized, had lost all [ ]
Keiko came gliding back in a moment or two and, taking her [ ]
led her to the back of the [ ]
then down the tiny staircase to the [ ]
There the slim stewardess commanded her to [ ]
“But … what if somebody [ ]
“Don’t worry. They won’t see a thing,” said [ ]
turning to jam shut the [ ]
“Now show me that sweet little [ ]
I want to eat your [ ]

6

The gaping mouth of a mine – dark tunnel running back into the earth. Like the innocent railway in Edinburgh, or the mouth of the coal-shaft at Millerton.

You walk in cautiously, clutching at the moss-covered walls for guidance, trying to avoid tripping over the tracks. An indistinct spot of light appears at the other end, wavering like a pale flame. You continue towards it, as it gradually expands, revealing the end of the passage.

There were only a couple of minutes when you were wholly in the dark, and you felt nothing in particular – no sense of transformation, metamorphosis – but somehow, as you approach the other end, you find that everything has changed. All changed, changed utterly. Change for Crewe Junction.

[… Memories of that incident in the tunnels below North Head, standing in the dark of a cave, with a group of girls looking at you, straight in the face. “There’s someone there. I can almost make him out. It’s not completely empty.” They persisted beyond all reasonable expectation.

Finally, realising they weren’t going to go away, you walked out into the midst of them, commenting how interesting it was that one could see nothing when caught in the light of the window.

They stared: dumb, flabbergasted – shocked that anyone could want to stand there silent, hidden from the world …]

On the other side, everything’s reversed. A pretty blonde girl comes up and links her arm in yours. There’s a tribe of kids running around, demanding that you participate in their game. You grab a beer and start to argue about the rugby with a group of loud biker friends.

As evening falls, you ride back to the wilds of Titirangi. The house is full of people – not a book in sight – clamour of voices, curses, tantrums. You’ve got to be up early next day for work, so go to bed with your wife, the blonde girl, Sally. The two of you make love. She turns away and starts to snore.

Antiterra – tunnel into the earth
North Head / [Crewe Junction] / Titirangi

Sunday

7

Session 4 (8/9 – 8.33 a.m.):

Just before they landed, Keiko gave Sabra her [ ]
saying that she lived on the coast, just south of [ ]
and to call her if [ ]
Sabra said she wished she could return the [ ]
but she didn’t have a [ ]
Keiko smiled [ ]
lightly patting Sabra’s bottom as she stood up to [ ]
Sabra still felt dazed by the memory of the [ ]
She’d never met a girl who had so many [ ]
They walked down the ramp [ ]
into the bustle of the [ ]
Sabra was looking all around for Tela’s long, blonde [ ]
She didn’t see her, but there was a large crowd [ ]
Keiko was a bit taller than Sabra’s [ ]
and helped her [ ]
“Sabra!! Sabra! Sabra!” a bubbling voice [ ]
Sabra turned and saw Tela, looking radiant and [ ]
The two girls [ ]
Tela looked at Keiko; Sabra introduced [ ]
“Nice to meet you.” Keiko [ ]
The three of them began walking towards the [ ]
Under Keiko’s experienced [ ]
they claimed their bags and headed out toward the [ ]
Keiko said [ ]
reminding Sabra to call her if they wanted some [ ]
Sabra thanked her, as did [ ]
Both girls watched as Keiko [ ]
“Sexy lady!” Tela remarked, watching Keiko’s lean, shapely [ ]
“Why, Tela!” [ ]
“I do believe I saw your eyes turn [ ]
“Well I..” Tela stopped herself, then [ ]
“Well, I thought that maybe you and she [ ]

8

“Don’t be silly.” Sabra smiled, putting her hand on Tela’s [ ]
“No one could replace you, my first [ ]

“C’mon, my car’s [ ]
As soon as the doors [ ]
Tela leaned over and kissed [ ]
wishing the gearshift [ ]
The electricity of the moment made them both [ ]
and melt into each other’s [ ]
The kiss was long, deep and [ ]
When Tela [ ]
her nipples were pressing hard against her [ ]
“God!” Tela breathed, her hand on Sabra’s [ ]
“I’ve missed [ ]
Sabra caressed Tela’s [ ]
lifting it to her mouth and sucking one of Telas’s [ ]
her tongue caressing the long [ ]
“Oh, don’t start that [ ]
I want you so [ ]
Sabra laughed and settled [ ]
happy to be with her Atlantean friend [ ]
Tela drove them away from the [ ]
towards her new [ ]
On the [ ]
Tela pointed out places and suggested things that they could [ ]
including a nude beach she’d found along the [ ]
“A nude beach?” Sabra [ ]
looking at Tela’s [ ]
“[ ]

9

Tela, Honduras, is located within the department of Atlantida
Tela has become famous for its beaches
Best of all, it is still unspoiled …

Psychic Sabra, clairvoyant & clairaudient psychic
Psychic Sabra looks deeply into your life stream energies
She calls upon her guides, who show her the answers to your questions
with TV-like transmissions, complete with lively images & sounds

Saturday

10

Session 5 (9/9 – 8.25 a.m.):

It begins with a dream
he’s had bad dreams before, but this one is in a class of its own
he’s on a river-boat, travelling on some interminable, ill-defined canal
there don’t seem to be any locks or gates
anything much to do
except steer
& watch the horizon for minute signs of variation

The strange thing is that he’s arrived here
woken up here
with a complete set of memories
he can see himself killing the girl
plunging the fork into her cheek
that’s the nasty part, the shock going up his arm
the realization that it’s just like carving meat
two-tined fork in the turkey
the complex of associations as the blood comes spurting out

Why did he kill her?
that’s less clear
they’d been travelling together, on the run
from somewhere, someone, something
did she betray him, piss him off?
both?
in any case, he left her body in the car
set it on fire with a rag stuffed in the petrol tank
then headed off across country
he must have lucked onto the boat

He feels quite desperate, that’s the thing
it doesn’t seem like a dream-world at all
no kaleidoscopic whirl of images & scenes
it feels concrete & exact
the selective nature of his memory is, in a sense, absurd
but it doesn’t alter the fact that he’s here

11

on this low-slung gypsy barge
that he’s a murderer
that they’re going to catch up with him
that when they do he’ll be dead

The last thing he sees is a hill looming ahead
dark & rocky & overhanging the river
the canal’s carved through its lower flanks
are they waiting for him there?
he guesses they are
can see them lying behind a stone
crooking their rifles
ready to wing him
take him down
dark soldiers of fortune
vigilantes, hunters

Did the alarm go off then?
he wakes with the shock of the new-born
like a water-breathing organism thrust suddenly into air
the last image he retains is the boat’s white side
the name painted there in ragged black letters
that strange, foreign name
L’Atalante

12

Monday, 17th March – On the verge of war. We’ve been going out for almost exactly two weeks now (kissed in that Laotian restaurant last Monday, then slept together the next evening. Saw her again that Saturday, then went to her place on Monday after class: sex – then coffee). She came round to see me on Saturday. I couldn’t get it up. She was very cool about it, though. Is this the real thing? I want it to be, so much – seems too good to be true: no flaws in her at all (so far). Told her I loved her at the Malaysian place on the 13th …

Friday

13

Session 6 (10/9 – 9.32 a.m.):

– It’s the name of a film, you must remember that
– No, I don’t, actually
– French film, 1930s, people drifting around on a river boat
some sort of love story
set just before the war, kind of idyllic, tragic-comic
you must have seen it somewhere, blanked it out
– A French film from the thirties? I think I’d remember that
– Maybe somebody told you about it
maybe you read it somewhere
who knows? In any case, that explains at least part of the dream

He doesn’t care to reveal the detail about the fork
no doubt there’ll be as little trouble with that
a shortlist of films with fork-stabbing scenes
learned disquisition on pop-cultural clichés
he can’t explain
though he keeps trying to
the extent to which this dream differs from all his others
the reality of it
the strange concrete precision of its details

Break-time’s over, back to the trenches
the students are sitting there ready for him
all except Jin-Soo, so often late these days
late because clumsily wooing
one of the girls from the beginners’ class
in any case
time & tide wait for no man
– Who can give me a good example of a proverb, a saying?
Helen? Hae-Yung?
– a stitch in time safe nine
– a stitch in time saves nine
& what does that mean?
& so they’re off

14

On a one-way street, faced by blank buildings, stands a strange little toy-town house, with cars drawn up in front of it on the gravel. The female receptionist conducts you to a room – cubicle, really – with two chairs, a table, and magazines (Cleo with Katie Holmes on the cover: “Is she too good to be true?”). You’re left to fill in the forms:

Do you have problems maintaining an erection? yes/no
Are you diabetic? yes/no
How long has the problem been going on? (Two weeks, I guess … or, in another sense, for eighteen months, since S. and I last slept together … actually, to be perfectly honest, for years ...)

Eventually the doctor comes and ushers you into her office, glancing through the papers. A bit of chat: Lost ten kilos? Good for you!

Then she gives you the injection.

It’s like a little white plastic gun, pressed onto your penis. She snaps the catch, and … fu-u-uck – it’s as if a firecracker’s gone off inside the shaft. She injects the drugs, briefly examines the result, then returns you to your cubicle: Pull on it a bit; stay standing. It’s starting to get hard.

Twenty minutes or so later she comes back to collect you. You’ve been listening to the voices come and go through the cubicle walls. It’s almost like a relay race: injection – erection – pep-talk. All synchronised so we don’t have to see one another.

You’ve had time to read through all the pamphlets she gave you now. The pills can cause you diarrhoea, stomach upsets, coloured flashes in front of the eyes. Sounds sexy, no?

You decide to go with the little white gun after all. The gold-chip method, they assure you.

Now through the door to the technician, whose job’s to teach you how to shoot up. He demonstrates on a pink plastic penis (a retired dildo?), then gets you to repeat the procedure once or twice.

Surprise, surprise, the more doses you buy, the less it costs.

Now you’re led back to reception (a cool young guy now, replacing the cool young girl). He issues you with a bag of syringes, swabs, and drugs. The second bottle’s way more powerful – so go back down in the dose when you start on that one.

15

Walking out, you notice for the first time just what a serious erection this is – a real woody, painful in its distension of your pallid arteries.

Back home you can’t restrain yourself – ignoring all the advice about how to masturbate correctly in the Premature Ejaculation pamphlet (no fantasizing, no magazines, make it last), you throw yourself on the bed and let rip. The come is thick and copious.

But that’s not all. After an hour or so you start to wonder when it will go down. An hour later, and you’ve started to employ some of the recommended remedies for “Priapism” (Any erection prolonged beyond six hours constitutes a urological emergency, the notes on the back of the Instructions to Consulting Physicians form explain helpfully.)

You squeeze it, first, for twenty minutes or so (the video’s on the blink – you watch your way through Sesame Street, some Pokémon-style Japanese cartoons, even – God help you! – Gilligan’s Island. Two hours have now gone by – you’re entering the danger zone (Average initial erection: sixty minutes, explains one of the other pamphlets).

There’s nothing for it. Strapping it down as far as you can, you sally forth to purchase Sudafed from the local chemist (Available from any pharmacy).

“D’you have Sudafed?” you demand, bursting into the shop.

The pharmacist seems a little alarmed. You must look like a madman, staring eyes, gaunt cheeks, trousers stuffed to bursting. An obvious homebake fiend.

“Why do you need it? Do you have a congested nose?”

“No.”

“Why then?”

“They told me at the clinic I might need it.”

“What clinic?”

“Can I talk to you in private?”

She draws you off to one side, away from the staring eyes of all the smock-clad girls who’ve materialised behind the dispensing counter.

“The male impotence clinic – to bring down an erection.”

She doesn’t look convinced, but sells it to you anyway.

“You may get dizzy if you take two tablets at a time,” she warns, and you limp out.

Thursday

16

Back home you gulp down the tablets. The walk has done you good, you think – the monster seems a trifle more subdued. Nope. Without your undies, boing – it’s up again – like an illustration from a human biology textbook or a Kathy Acker novel – banana curve, taut testicles.

More lying watching tele – M.A.S.H. now. No change. A while later, one more tablet. No dice. No dizziness either. Just one distended cock.

It’s time for the ice. You wrap it in a towel, as advised, but that doesn’t seem cold enough. Instead, you drape the towel round your penis with the ice-cubes on the inside.

You penis starts to burn. Water begins to leak out. It’s painful – hot and cold at once – but, yes, it’s going down.

You stagger off to the bathroom and piss the rest away.

Hot shower, soap, steam, and you’re feeling almost human. Your dick’s still red and sore, but detumescent, thank God, at last.

Later still you talk it over on the phone.

“God, I wish I’d been there! You should have rung me.”

“I guess I should have, but sometimes – you know – bashfulness intervenes.”

On the morning of the departure of their fleet for
Sicily, the people of Athens awoke to find that
vandals had been busy during the night, knocking
the phallus off every Hermes in the city

17

Session 7 (11/9 – 8.15 a.m.):

That afternoon
walking back from school
the subtle sense of wrongness
no – flimsiness, provisionality
that’s been dogging him all day, is reconfirmed

He likes to walk fast
faster than the other pedestrians
– Almost as if you hope you can avoid it if you walk fast enough
Denise had commented
Denise with whom he’d walked so often
– Avoid what? he’d asked, playing straight man as usual
– Avoid whatever it is you’re so anxious to get away from
she’d replied
before going on to denounce his tendency to reply with questions
the lack of trust & openness that showed

Maintaining this pace
means constantly trying to gauge the intentions
of the people walking in front of him
guessing if they’ll veer left or right
calculating the trajectory that’ll get him past them
with minimum derangement

The couple in front looks familiar
as if he knew them in a former life
They’re dressed in white
strange shimmer of silvery hues
the details just a little too far off to be made out
the woman’s blonde
with close-cropped, boyish hair
walking past them on the far edge of the curb
he detects a movement out of the corner of his eye
turning, a moment, he sees her face
the face of the woman in his dream

18

Session 8 (13/9 – 8.32 a.m.):

the harbour side was a mess it was difficult enough to make your way through the crowds of sailors stevedores sightseers and vendors at the best of times but today the heaps of fallen masonry and tangle of broken nets and machinery made it more like threading a labyrinth than strolling along the quay

in all the confusion tela hardly noticed the scuffle going on directly in front of her until a large calloused hand reached out and grabbed her by the arm

not so fast laddie give it back

shocked at the unexpected contact tela said nothing but tried to pull away the mans grip tightened he was big and fat with a black beard and looked extremely angry by now the crowd was beginning to form a circle around them eager to watch the free show

give it back i said

give back what i havent taken anything she blurted out

you wont mind being searched then will you said the man as the crowd roared with laughter two others had pushed forward by now to hold her arms more securely

no you cant but his hands were already groping through her tunic looking for whatever it was his purse a ring maybe nothing at all perhaps he was just trying it on

in any case she could see his eyes widen as the hands worked their way inwards to her skin what the youre no boy

his piggy eyes gleamed with astonishment now was her chance before he began to see the possibilities she brought her foot up as hard as she could right into his groin her cousins had taught her that one and shed learned the lesson well

the eyes clouded over with pain as he subsided into a heap the other men loosened their grip on her arms for a moment in surprise and she wriggled out of their grasp leaving half her tunic behind

quick this way she heard a voice in front of her as she darted into the crowd moving as fast as she could to duck the grasping hands there was a girl standing

Wednesday

19

over by the entrance to an alley beckoning her on no time to calculate she ran as fast as she could in that direction

youll need something better than that to wear

theyd ducked and turned their way down street after street pursued at first by the baying of the crowd but then as the streets began to get darker and smaller and the roofs were closed in by nothing but the buzzing of flies and occasional glances from the darkened windows above them

now they sat in a little square far away from the waterside panting and catching their breath with the aid of some water from the deep cold well

telas clothes were indeed in a state shed lost a sleeve and part of the side of her tunic in the scuffle and the unwieldy garment threatened to come off at any moment revealing all her companion with a cloak and band around her hair could at least claim to be covered im sabra by the way she continued holding out a hand in greeting

tela took the hand im tela thanks for thanks for saving me back there

oh thats okay i know those men they make a disturbance and while everyone in the crowd is watching the show the rest of the gang picks their pockets they have some little children trained for that ive seen it lots of times

what would have happened to me if you hadnt come along

oh they would have called the guard and had you taken to prison it was only when he saw you were a girl disguised as a boy that he really got interested though i guess they started thinking about ransoms and rewards

tela shuddered she could see her escape had been even narrower than shed realised her companion lithe and blonde perhaps a couple of years younger than she was looked back at her good humouredly so are you going to tell me

tell you what

who you are what youre doing out here when you clearly dont know your way around just how bad the trouble is youre in

20

tela laughed she could see her new found friend would not be satisfied with anything less than the truth had she in truth ever before been able to speak to someone unguardedly without calculating the percentages

a friend of mine lives nearby hell help us im sure the main thing is to get you out of those clothes and out of sight

sabra had not seemed at all shocked by telas story beyond nodding her head once or twice when the other girl talked about her uncle her fear of him her suspicions about what he was after shed contented herself with stroking a ginger cat whod come stalking up to sit beside them now as the cat preened and reared to have his ears scratched she took things in hand once again

i guess i should go back theyll have noticed im gone by now

go back like that they wont believe you even if you find a guard who recognises you youll be beaten within a inch of your life i bet

i wont get beaten im never beaten im the princess

theyll beat you this time princess dont you see what youve done if you disappear now theyve got the perfect pretext no id lie low for a bit before you even think about getting back inside

tela couldnt deny the logic of sabras argument it was not a view of the matter shed ever have taken herself but now she began to see how little interest her uncle really had in her continued presence her only defence till now had been the eyes of the court now outside their jurisdiction she would have to be more cunning than ever before if she was to survive

black & blonde & ginger
calculating – [threading] – the deep well

21

Come inside and be me
jump in and be me

There’s always good through bad

I know who I am with a routine

– Debbie

I can’t even remember
what it’s like to remember
Will I remember to remember?

– George

[writing poems]

It helps me to remember
because I can hear
the next part

[keeping a journal]

I only read the words
I can’t think back
to what I was thinking

– Sally

Tuesday

22

Imagine you forgot everything you heard straight after hearing it. People come in and introduce themselves to you. Before they’ve left the room you can’t remember who they are … can’t remember remembering who they were, in fact. As far as you’ve concerned, time stands entirely still. In this condition, anterograde amnesia, everything, for you, is perpetually beginning.

What do you do?

One way is to stick to a strict routine: do everything in just the same order every day: see the same people, do the same activities. Your day, your week, your month, your year all mapped out in advance. 50 First Dates.

Another way is writing down everything you do just as you do it – keeping a journal of your daily round. If you write it down at least you won’t lose the writing, however little it may mean to you as soon as it’s complete. The word becomes the thing it was describing.

Another way is writing and/or memorizing poems. Because they have an ordered structure: the predictability of rhythm and rhyme, it’s possible to hold them in your head: that part of your head which rests, miraculously intact, below the level of dysfunction.

The television documentary Living without a Memory (BBC, 2003) tracks the daily lives of three sufferers from this condition: Debbie, Sally and George. They all exist within a family structure. It’s hard, in fact, to imagine them surviving any other way …

How do you recover your past if you have retrograde amnesia?
Write down, blindly, everything that comes into your head
check it back for clues

How do you hold onto the present if you have anterograde amnesia?
List the things that strike you
link them up to preserve your train of thought

23

Session 9 (14/9 – 8.37 a.m.):

– Are you okay?
the voice comes into focus
with the rest of his surroundings
black to red to green to blinding dazzle
he opens his eyes, revealing them to the sun
there’s something gritty under his back
blue & white & yellow
his head is tilted back
he doesn’t appear to be wearing … anything
he’s on a beach

Looking up, he half expects to see the girl
that blonde metallic girl
but it isn’t her
the face leaning over his is dark
dark hair, bronze sun-tanned skin
it seems to hold concern for him
her voice sounds earnest

Nausicäa, he thinks
I’m on that beach
Odysseus, washed up by the sea
tired out by battling waves along the rock-bound coast
but Odysseus burst out on the princess & her waiting-women
as they washed their clothes in the river
holding a bush to hide his private parts
he didn’t come to
like this, naked, alone
wake up all alone in this burning salt world

– Where am I? he croaks
all the clichés here, he thinks
the next thing I’ll be asking to be taken to her leader
or she’ll be giving me instructions
on how to reach the royal halls unchallenged

24

she has a bottle in her hand
a ribbed bottle of mineral water
so much for that theory
Nausicäa would hardly be drinking H2Go
she squeezes a little of it on his lips
then, as they come apart
quite painfully
once more this isn’t dreamlike
but wholly physical
rough, harsh
full of rips & pains & tears
a trickle of liquid goes down his throat

He hawks & coughs
she moves to prop him up as he spits out phlegm
ugh gross
a part of him is yammering
nagging away as usual
but somehow distantly
less urgently than it has done for many days

Now that he’s sitting up, he looks around him
nothing very identifiable
sand, trees, rocks, a headland
your standard perfect beach
there are no other people on it
the girl is still behind him, propping him
what is she wearing?
something muumuu-like
her hair is loose & shoulder-length

He tries again:
– What’s your name?
– Annie
– Have I been here long?
– I don’t know
I just came down & found you

Monday

25

maybe ten minutes, quarter of an hour
I usually go for a morning swim
I don’t think I’ve seen you here before
– And where is here?
– Bethells

A strange thing happens when he hears the name
he knows it
of that he’s sure
but somehow the information accompanying it
won’t come
is it a place he’s heard of? been to?
dreamed of, perhaps?
it’s not like
Tir-nan-og, Atlantis, Avalon
he knows he’ll recognize it if only
if only what?
if only he can remember more about himself

Curious
he can still visualize the riverboat dream
the day at school
the couple on the street
but nothing else
no name, address
age, weight, height, nationality
this girl is real
the beach is real
& he’s right here
the rest has faded
that guy, the other teacher
he’d be able to explain it easily
he’d say, what a cliché, what a cheesey soap-opera trick
Amnesia
you cannot be serious
but he is
somehow, he is

26

Park at Spencers Bay (past Port Jackson) – scruffy tents and loos – Path up the green hill past the ragtag campers – lovely swimming beach (almost deserted) ten minutes away – Sign

To Poley Bay (1 hr)

It seems just over the hill – Up top the bare sheep-nibbled slope – Past the bitten chimney sloping to one side a sheep crouched in its shade – Past the sandy hollow– up & up – After ½ hour another sign

Poley Bay 30 minutes)

Breathtaking viewpoint – Green rocky bay below with white yacht scudding past – Stop there for lunch (two tracks heading to bush-clad point) – “It’s the mixture of gorse and native bush that gives it its character” – On on & then descend into native bush – down & down & down – through glens & thickets streams & fords fronds ferns – until the river – one more sign

Poley Bay 1 minute
Lookout Pt one hour
Stoney Bay 3 hrs)

Poley Bay is rocks swirling around a shelf of gravel – driftwood caves – No sign of habitation – anything – A little stacked square of sticks stands as if for a fire – Possum/ rat trap a few metres away

27

Session 10 (15/9 – 9.01 a.m.):

strip you must strip for the goddess the girls chorused dancing around her tugging at her tunic one of them darted forward and grasping the bottom of the fabric pulled it up over her head baring her from neck to waist she stood thus blinded with her arms pinioned above her head as another pair of hands tore down her slip and assisted to step out of it they balanced her like a show pony made her stand on one leg and bend up the other as each sandal was removed then they completed drawing off the tunic and someone else removed the pins from her hair stark naked now she fixed her eyes ahead of her at the entrance of the cave

the gentle hands were urging her forwards go on dont be afraid shes waiting for you go down in the cave tela could see no alternative to obedience these white clad girls were frail enough no doubt but together there was no resisting their collective pressure they had no weapons save the power of their will but that was quite enough she stepped forward once and their hands on her relaxed another step feeling out the roughnesses of the dusty ground and her direction was clear

there was a sudden shock as she passed out of the sunlight into the gloom of the cave entrance she was forced to stoop as the entrance shrank rapidly to half her height there was enough light still from outside for her to see that otherwise she might have stunned herself on the low rock lintel every step would have to be groped for though once that feeble illumination was lost the floor too while mainly a smooth rock slab would have to be investigated gingerly if she was not to bruise and hurt herself

shuddering she continued into the dark

after what seemed like a very long time she felt her eyes begin to adjust to the inky darkness her groping hands appeared in front of her like moths and the rough outlines of the cave were somehow perceived before they were felt was that a spark of light ahead she screwed her eyes up tight then opened them again yes it was almost as if there were some little flickering luminescence in the air around her a kind of emanation which was condensing into a flame

she was concentrating so hard on what she felt she could almost see that she momentarily forgot the need to grope for every step the shooting pain of a stubbed toe worked up her leg and tripped her forward she stumbled to stop from falling and volleyed forward into the room

Sunday

28

there was a spinning wheel a stool and a little fire bent round the corner out of immediate line of sight someone had been here that was certain the wheel was strung for weaving and a little kettle hung above the flames

hello she ventured

no reply

im tela i was sent they said that i should come down here and ask you ask you what about me the city my father the futility of her errand began to impress itself up on her sighing she sat down on the stool and began to look around her

it was really quite a cosy little room or alcove she supposed less goddess like than governess and yet those reaching shadows would worry her the cave clearly continued and who knew what might come shambling out of it

in fact staring into one of the corners it was as if she saw an outline within the dark black within black like a heap of rags a spidery form crouched there she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand was it all imagination

she stood and walked nearer certainly there was something there she couldnt be sure what perhaps just old clothes out of sight out of mind

at that the dark on dark opened its eyes

they were blind eyes cave eyes white corneas around a clouded iris sightless as marbles yet they stared in her direction at the scuffle of her naked feet on the cave floor

tela fell to her knees and waited for an answer

well what did she say

it was difficult at first to adjust to the abrupt passage from dark to light from cold to late afternoon sunshine shed been gone most of a day it seemed from what they said the girls clustering around her as she stumbled out of the cave her feet and hands were streaked with blood from the numerous falls and bashes shed suffered on her way back up from below

now she sat quiet and still with a blanket wrapped around her and sabras hand holding hers fast

29

what had she said what had she understood it wasnt clear so many gnomic verses and yet it left behind a kind of sense of what shed come for what shed come to ask

its hard to tell you i have to think to work out more about it

sabras hand was resting on her pussy rubbing erect the little nub of pleasure yes that was good that was the way to do it the kisses travelled lower tela gasped bucked and started to come in her lovers

ontology – which world do I inhabit?
epistemology – what is my place in this world?

if you can’t form new memories
you can still manufacture synapses
in order to discover where you are

to find out where you’ve been you have to be more random
eschew all features of design
open your heart to whatever pours out

30

Session 11 (16/9 – 8.50 a.m.):

An hour later they left, climbing into Tela’s [ ]
Tela was talking about going to [ ]
but Sabra said she was [ ]
Tela said that Sabra would [ ]
once they got to this little country & western [ ]
Sabra seemed [ ]
her mind filling with thoughts of rugged [ ]
They caught the freeway and drove [ ]
Tela pointed out some of the [ ]
They had the music up loud enough to need to [ ]
Sabra seemed to be getting her second [ ]
It was then that Tela’s car [ ]
losing speed and [ ]
“Oh, shit! What happened?” Tela [ ]
steering to the side of the [ ]
The car slowed [ ]
but Tela managed to stop neatly on the [ ]
Both girls got out of the car and opened the [ ]
A hot, acrid, greasy smell greeted them, along with a cloud of [ ]
In the darkness they couldn’t see [ ]
“Just great!” Tela said. “It would pick now to [ ]

Cars flashed by for almost an hour without [ ]
“Damn! If we don’t get [ ]
I’ll need a new [ ]
Tela said, watching the [ ]
As if in answer to her words a bright white light [ ]
Someone was [ ]
It moved closer, slowing quickly until it [ ]
“Hi! Trouble, ladies?” asked the [ ]
“Um, yeah. It just [ ]
Could you call the [ ]

Saturday

31

“Sure thing.” He replied [ ]
“Is the hood open? I’ll see if you need a [ ]
He walked to the [ ]
In the darkness of the highway they saw his white [ ]
and that he appeared to be nice-looking for an [ ]
“You snapped a pair of fan belts,” he said, [ ]
“One of them ripped the [ ]
You’re lucky you didn’t have a [ ]
Twenty minutes and a few loud curses later he [ ]
“Try it now,” he [ ]
Tela cranked the engine, then [ ]
The third time it caught, sputtered – then [ ]
“Thanks anyway, but it looks like [ ]
“That fan belt isn’t [ ]
And your air-conditioner won’t [ ]
but maybe [ ]
“Thank you, kind sir.” Sabra said [ ]
“Thanks for stopping [ ]
The man smiled warmly, looking at [ ]
“From the islands?” he asked. Sabra [ ]
“I thought so.” He added, “You have such a lovely [ ]
Inside the car Sabra blushed at the [ ]
hidden from his eyes by shadows and [ ]

“Look, ladies, I can offer you a place to [ ]
or a place to wait for someone to [ ]
It’s the least I can [ ]
“I don’t know ...” Tela [ ]
“I promise you,” He smiled. “No [ ]
I’ve got a very comfortable [ ]
No problem. The name’s [ ]
you can call me [ ]
Tela and Sabra looked at each other for a long [ ]
Sabra nodded. “All right then,” Tela [ ]

32

“It’s much better than [ ]
They mulled over the problem of how to get three [ ]
to his place on a [ ]
Micael solved it by riding Tela [ ]
returning in less than ten minutes to pick up [ ]
“I’m scared to death of these things,” Sabra [ ]
as she climbed [ ]
“Nothing to it. Lean back against the [ ]
squeeze your legs together and [ ]
Let me do all the work.” Micael [ ]
It was a short trip to his [ ]
but there were several turns and some [ ]
Sabra was disoriented as he pulled into a [ ]
stopping smoothly in the [ ]
Micael opened the door to the [ ]
“Welcome, come on in and make yourself [ ]
Inside Sabra was surprised to see Tela talking to another [ ]
The girl was [ ]
Tall, slender, with long legs and dark brown hair that reached her [ ]
Most of all, her green eyes under dark eyebrows were [ ]
She smiled, her mouth a trifle too [ ]
but very [ ]
“Shasta, this is Sabra. Sabra, meet Shasta.” Micael [ ]
The two girls nodded and said [ ]
“Can we find something to [ ]
I don’t know about Sabra and Tela , but I’m [ ]

green eyes under dark eyebrows
Atlantis & the islands = USA?

33

On the 1st of March, in the year 213, the inhabitants of Nîmes were congregated near the fountain, all in holiday costume. Among them ran and laughed numerous young girls, all with wreaths of white hyacinths or of narcissus on their heads. Yet, jocund as the scene was, to such as looked closer there was observable an undercurrent of alarm that found expression in the faces of the older men and women of the throng, at least in those of such persons as had their daughters flower-crowned.

For this day was especially dedicated to the founder and patron of the town, who supplied it with water from his unfailing urn, and once in every seven years a human victim was offered in sacrifice to the god Nemausus, to ensure the continuance of his favour by a constant efflux of water, pure, cool, and salubrious.

The victim was chosen from among the daughters of the old Gaulish families of the town, and was selected from among girls between the ages of seven and seventeen. None knew which would be chosen and which rejected. The selection was not made by either priest or priestess attached to the temple. Nor was it made by the magistrates. Chance or destiny alone determined who was to be chosen out of the forty-nine who appeared before the god.

When the priests and priestesses drew up in lines between the people and the fountain, the ædile of tile city standing forth, read out from a roll the names of seven times seven maidens; and as each name was called, a white-robed flower-crowned child fluttered from among the crowd and was received by the priestly band.

When all forty-nine were gathered together, they were formed into a ring, holding hands, and round this ring passed the bearers of the silver image of the god. As they did so, suddenly a golden apple held by the god fell and touched a graceful girl who stood in the ring.

“Come forth, Lucilla,” said the chief-priestess. “Speak thou the words. Begin.”

Then the damsel loosed her hands from those she held, stepped into the midst of the circle, and raised the golden pippin. At once the entire ring of children began to revolve like a dance of white butterflies in early spring;

Friday

34

and as they swung from right to left, the girl began to recite at a rapid pace a jingle of words in a Gallic dialect that ran thus: –

One and two,
Drops of dew.
Three and four,
Shut the door.

As she spoke, she indicated a child at each numeral –

Five and six,
Pick up sticks;
Seven and eight,
Thou must wait.

Now passed a thrill through the crowd. The children whirled quicker.

Nine and ten,
Pass again.
Golden pippen, lo! I cast
Thou, Alcmene, touched at last.

At the word “last,” she threw the apple, struck a girl, and at once left the ring, cast her coronet of narcissus into the fountain; and ran into the crowd. For her the risk was past, as she would be over age when the next septennial sacrifice came round.

Now it was the turn of Alcmene. She held the ball, paused a moment, looking about her, and then, as the troop of children revolved she rattled the rhyme and threw the pippin at a damsel named Tertiola. Whereupon she, in her turn, cast her garland of white violets and withdrew.

Again the wreath of children circled, and Tertiola repeated the jingle till she came to “Touched at last,” when a girl named Ælia was selected and came into the middle. This was a child of seven, who was shy and clung to her mother. “My Ælia! Rejoice that thou art not the victim. Be speedy with the verse, and I will join the crustula.”

35

So encouraged, the frightened child rattled out some lines, then halted, her memory had failed, and she had to be reminded of the rest. At last she also was free, ran to her mother’s bosom, and was comforted with cakes.

Now arrived the supreme moment – that of the final selection. The choosing girl, in whose hand was the apple, stood before those who alone remained. She began: –

One, two,
Drops of dew.

Although there was so vast a concourse present, not a sound could be heard save the voice of the girl repeating the jingle, and the rush of the holy water over the weir. Every breath was held.

Nine and ten,
Pass again.
Golden pippin, now I cast
Thou, Portumna, touched at last.

At once the girl who had cast the apple withdrew, as also did the girl who skipped to the basin and cast in her garland. One alone remained – Perpetua; and the high priestess, raising her hand, stepped forward, pointed to her, and said “Est.” ’

A princess of Lemuria
apple-girls – the counting games – choosing the sacrifice

Perpetua – in perpetuity

36

Session 12 (17/9 – 7.12 a.m.):

He’s been expecting the whole thing to fade away
that he’ll come to with a start
snap out of it
or into it, whatever
but nothing happens
he keeps on lying there

Having checked he has no clothes
no possessions
left in a little pile above the tideline
Annie drapes him in her towel

– You’d better come back with me
he doesn’t welcome it, exactly
too dazed for that, disoriented
but it certainly seems the best thing to do
to get out of this burning sun
shield his rapidly reddening skin
get washed up, fed
the other things she keeps on promising him
as they make their slow way along the dusty road up the hill

Once they get there
& he’s had a cold shower
& got dressed in some fairly unisex
though far too small
overalls & t-shirt
they sit down to scrambled eggs

Now why do I remember those?
he wonders
why’s that name still there
still ready to be accessed?
tossed salad & scrambled eggs
he eats them before noticing he still knows how

The Imaginary Museum of Atlantis

Index

The R.E.M. Trilogy (1997-2008)

E M O (2008)

Blog Archive

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