Professor Jack Sanger
Subscribe to The Moment by Email

Archives

November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 May 2010 June 2010 July 2010 August 2010 September 2010 October 2010 November 2010 December 2010 January 2011 February 2011 March 2011 April 2011 May 2011 February 2012 March 2012 April 2012 May 2012 June 2012 July 2012 August 2012 September 2012 October 2012 November 2012 December 2012 January 2013 February 2013 March 2013 April 2013 May 2013 June 2013 July 2013 August 2013 September 2013 November 2013 December 2013 January 2014 March 2014


Powered by Blogger
The Moment
Thursday, March 21, 2013
-->
Of flying horses and thwarted lions

Encouraged by my interest in his forefathers, the gardener tells me another tale. It is magic realism at its best. I’ve repeated it to one or two people and they don’t get it. To them it’s mad, bonkers and childish. It doesn’t feel like that when you listen to it. Something about the eyes of the teller, the excited expression, the relief that someone is listening without criticism. Anyway, it goes like this:

“My grandfather’s brother built a house which stretched from here to the junction (he is indicating about a half mile). This house was so big a stranger would never find his way out again. My grandfather’s brother had thirty wives. Every wife had many chickens. His brothers had wives but only six or eight each. There were thirty thousand chickens around the place. When strangers came to the gates, my grandfather’s brother had to greet them himself. Then he would find out their business and arrange for them to be taken into the house.

One day he had to travel to Burkina Faso. There were no roads and there was jungle everywhere. He went on horseback. His steed had been prepared like the dogs in the previous blog. Four lions stalked him, wanting to eat the horse. They came at him from all sides. My grandfather’s brother made his horse rise into the sky, just above the mouths of the biting beasts. Here they stayed until the lions became tired and left them alone. He continued his journey in peace.”

I believe he believed it. I believe that such stories have some intrinsic symbolism that I can’t fathom and that my friend, the gardener, has sad eyes because he has lost the understanding as well. He knows that these stories will end with his generation. Those that have come afterwards are full of Christian  or Muslim mythology and symbolism, grafted on over the last decades.

www.chronometerpublications.me
www.azimuthtrilogy.com

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment


<< Home