Alexandria: A Novel

by Paul Kingsnorth

  ALEXANDRIA

  Also by Paul Kingsnorth

  Savage Gods

  Songs from the Blue River

  Confessions of a Recovering Environmentalist and Other Essays

  Beast

  The Wake

  Kidland and Other Poems

  Uncivilization: The Dark Mountain Manifesto

  The Real England: The Battle Against the Bland

  One No, Many Yeses

  PAUL KINGSNORTH

  ALEXANDRIA

  A Novel

  Graywolf Press

  Copyright © 2020 by Paul Kingsnorth

  First published in 2020 by Faber & Faber Ltd, London

  The author and Graywolf Press have provided this e-book to you for your personal use only. You may not make this e-book publicly available in any way. Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify Graywolf Press at: us.macmillanusa.com/piracy.

  This publication is made possible, in part, by the voters of Minnesota through a Minnesota State Arts Board Operating Support grant, thanks to a legislative appropriation from the arts and cultural heritage fund. Significant support has also been provided by the National Endowment for the Arts, Target Foundation, the McKnight Foundation, the Lannan Foundation, the Amazon Literary Partnership, and other generous contributions from foundations, corporations, and individuals. To these organizations and individuals we offer our heartfelt thanks.

  Published by Graywolf Press

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  Minneapolis, Minnesota 55401

  All rights reserved.

  www.graywolfpress.org

  Published in the United States of America

  ISBN 978-1-64445-035-2

  Ebook ISBN 978-1-64445-137-3

  2 4 6 8 9 7 5 3 1

  First Graywolf Printing, 2020

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2019956738

  Cover design: Scott Sorenson

  I was still in the womb when I dreamed this singing. It was given me by the Ravens. Now I am a man but have not forgotten it. I dreamed it before I ever was born. If I had been born when I dreamed it, I would have forgotten it. No, I did not learn it from other Mohaves, and I did not hear any of them sing it. In fact, no one else sings like this, for it was I that dreamed it myself.

  Pamich, Mohave poet, 1903

  Hwaet synt nu þæs foremeran þæs wisan goldsmiðes ban Welondes?

  Boethius, De Consolatione Philosophiae,

  Old English translation, c.900

  / sfia ~ woman becoming

  i remember circle at me first blood, ah. then i was young.

  there were more of us then, seven womyn, all circled in fenn nekid and needeep in blak Water.

  mother comin to me and i in centre of them all, and shivered.

  it is time between Dog and Wulf and Sky is closin over. mother comin from Land where fyr is lighted and sayin then to me and to womyn:

  look up, see. She comes.

  across eye blu Sky, wide like Sea, comes now great dark shape, roilin bank of blak storm cloud movin steady over. and Land growin dark and Waters and me legs in Waters cold now, and i can not feel me feet.

  mother holds me now nekid in Water, she has one hand over me hart and one hand on me bak, and it seems cord joins both her hands through me body.

  then mother callin to Sky where dark now is rollin above us like great wave and Birds fallin still.

  Lady, she calls. great Lady wite Lady green Lady. great mother who is called Bree is called Erce is called Dine is called Maeri. enter in to body of this girl, take her blood and make her woman.

  and circle callin, make her woman!

  and womyn now closin in on me, womyn comin to me closin circle runnin hands softly over me body, sniffin me all over me body, smellin now scent of woman.

  and dark bank of cloud then darkness, above now movin like storm wave, sudden becomin darkness in me. and now me body me lungs limbs soul mind is filled with some great risin colour and some great fallin dark, and where they meet is where mothers hands joinin through me very hart with cord of green that now is spiral, is gyre, windin through and bindin me to darkness above to ground below to all that was and will be to Clay to Birds to Greenrok to me body, womans body now, and to wild wite Lady of all Erth.

  and i am Erth now, i am all things and and

  and me nees shake and i can not feel me feet and me blood is runnin down me legs and in to cold cold Water.

  and i cry then in some voice that is not mine, i cry, terror! terror! o mother mother what is this i am afeart!

  and mother then she takes me in her arms she embraces me, she holds me then like true mother, and i am soft in her arms, she holds me above Waters so i do not fall and in to me ear, gentle like blossom, she whispers:

  you should be.

  SIKKEL MOON

  / lorenso

  at moorin post she opens her robe and takes me right hand and placin it on her breast.

  she held it there and lookin in me eyes, and her face is open like Sea.

  i want to remember, she says.

  and then: you are so cold.

  its hard to keep standin with softness and warmth of her, with all hardness and softness of her in me one hand and through me.

  come with me, i say. come!

  she smiled. some times face she wears for others softens and dissolves and underneath is some unruined thing, some child no longer sharp against all edges.

  keep your hand there, she said. just keep it.

  he will not find us, i say, he doesnt know.

  why are you so cold, she asked. it is warm night.

  you will grow old, i said then. i was burnin, me body fyr. your skin will be wite and hang like vines in holt, every thing will hang down, you will be pulled bak to Clay!

  ah, she says, stop.

  there will be deth patches on me hands, i say, me hair will come out, you will be crippled, dried, barren. all shame of deth, all of your beauty. we could go!

  i love you, i said, and words bring out unruined thing in her like Birds bring out Sun.

  he wont know, i said, it is not far, i know way. he wont follow.

  she held me hand, still on her breast.

  just stand, she said. just touch me.

  / canto ~ the bird reign

  Bak then

  Land was Land

  Sea was Sea

  There was no meetin

  No meetin

  Wite Cloud come between them

  Blak Lightnin come between them

  None could pass through

  Bak then

  No thing moved on Land

  No thing moved in Sea

  Only in Sky was life

  In Sky moved Birds

  First of all things

  Cumrant watched from Greenrok

  Cumrant waited for Blak Lightnin

  When it broke

  He flew

  He flew

  Through Wite Cloud

  He flew

  From Sea to Land

  He flew

  Hearin sound Sea made

  As she longs for Land

  Hearin sound Land made

  As he longs for Sea

  He come down

  Bak then

  Land awoke

  What is this? cries Rook

  Deoful said Cro

  Grendel says Morrun

  Beast said Robyn

  Brother says Hern

  Hern flyin with Cumrant

  Bak through Wite Cloud to Sea

  Hearin sound Sea made as she longs for Land

  It is so he said

  It is so

  / sfia

 
; he told me he loved me and his words burnin, and his eyes burnt also and he puts his hand on me, over me hart.

  i held his hand on me and he said he loved me but it was not me he loved, it was this moment of lovin. he loves what burns, his world is shaped from his seein of it, all his world is shape of inside of his hart. his love is that shape bendin in to sudden ungiven pattern. then he sees world outside his seein, world which moves without and beyond, and then he soars like Birds.

  i knew he would fall. i have seen him fall before with others, at their feet and then away, but for now he is man full of love who can never love, and bendin stress on all his bones makin him fyr as he touched me.

  i love you, he says, and speakin it he meant it like he never meant any thing. i am strummin with heat of his skin on mine, shape of his hand.

  nothin lasts, he says, but it could.

  holdin his hand gently under me robe, pressin it to me. i could not wish he were any other thing.

  come with me, he said. come to Alexandria.

  / canto ~ the bird reign

  Sea longs for Land says Hern

  Land longs for Sea said Cumrant

  Their love is eaten

  By Wite Cloud and Blak Lightnin

  We must call our brothers

  Bak then

  Birds gathered on Greenrok

  Ganit come

  Seer Water come

  Gol come

  Petrol come

  All Birds gathered on Greenrok

  Come then Altros

  Lord of Sea

  Come then Altros to Greenrok to speak

  Come then Altros and speakin words:

  Sea sings song of joinin

  Land sings song of joinin

  Let them be joined

  Birds must eat Wite Cloud

  Birds must eat Blak Lightnin

  Many will die in this war

  And our bodies will fall in to Sea

  And our bodies will fall on to Land

  And our spirits will swim in Waters

  And move in fenn and holt

  And from this war shall come joinin

  And True World shall be made

  True World shall be made

  / yrvidian’s Dreaming

  nine hunnerd years gone. chained by nek all with golden chains. now wings. eighteen long arms come up from Water now. seventeen wite, one blak.

  they are comin bak.

  names beyond light, i see light now, far off but soon. one blak, look it has gone down again, under. now risin before me wings out, red head and all this great cross against light in light so wite now.

  nine hunnerd years chained under Tree but now words are broken, they are free, yes, and bak and i will not see what they bring but it will come. you know, you both know. you both have seen this.

  light now so bright and comin. do you remember word for them? i have lost name of these things. long wite neks comin up from Water. what are they? in their blak eyes all upon me. yes, and light now all upon me all upon me now and i am light now. i am light.

  from deep, from below, chained, broken now, ended. broken and ended.

  what is this?

  name them.

  name them.

  / canto ~ war of the first gods

  Bak then

  Birds ate Blak Lightnin

  Birds ate Wite Cloud

  War was fought for thousand years

  Many dyin

  And their bodies went in to Land and Sea

  Land and Sea

  Then Wite Cloud lifted

  And Blak Lightnin died away

  Sea saw Land

  Land saw Sea

  And Lovers joined

  Joined

  And bodies of Birds become Tree and Clay

  And spirits of Birds become Ratt and Focs

  And Ele and Dog Fish

  And Fli and Skwill

  And Codd and Stor Fish

  And Man

  And Man

  / mother

  sixfore summers i have been here. each summer of me life i have lived in this place that was many lives old when i come. great Cloyster was already eons old when i come here, great and blak and green and creepin. circlin place, Bird Poles, Long Hall, Lady Chappel, all old when i was birthed. in this place where fenn meets holt i have grown and seein much.

  how many folk was here when i was girl? could be thirty. even this last year there was sixteen folks. then red one came. now we are seven, and old yrvidian, oldest of us, he is not long for Erth. then we will be six folks. it is not enough. i do me work as mother, i lead me flok, but it is not enough.

  where are others of our Order, in other places, in other lands? from torr we hear nothin, from encross nothin, from green isle, from north, nothin. we hear from no others now.

  are we last of all?

  so small we are now, so shrunk, and all so quiet. and now, when all seems to be endin, it comes. Dream our Order has waited for for eons, for hunnerds of years. Dream that old tales said would come when all was turnin, when all was to end and begin again.

  Swans.

  yrvidian has walked in Dreamin longer than any. he Dreams through Sun and Moon, seein all things clere. he is master of seven planes and forefold vision. when yrvidian Dreams, we all are silent and listnin, for he Dreams true.

  i know what this means. all here, all folks, knows old words. all will change now. we who are so few, we must hold on here. we must do our work. stalker is still in holt, red one circles us, watchin, waits. he will wait as long as he must. he will not leave us until he is done.

  Swans come to us. red one comes to us.

  we must stand on our ground.

  / canto ~ the coming of Sir Pent

  Bak then

  All Land was holt

  All holt was wights

  Man and Dear

  Focs and Brok

  Line and Wulf

  Catt and Bore

  As one in peace

  In peace

  But one was broke

  At True Worlds makin

  One blak beast

  Low and creepin

  Deep in holt is great World Tree

  At its roots

  Curlin, windin

  Still, silent

  Breathin low:

  Old Sir Pent

  Now old Sir Pent

  Wakin slow

  Windin up

  Around roots

  Through Clay

  In to air

  Callin now

  Callin quiet:

  Man

  Man

  Come to me

  For I bring gifts

  / father

  i do not want to go.

  i am not young. all me life i have seen our Order comin down all round. it could be we are last. red one is in holt, he has eaten in to us and he will come bak soon. he watches. he will finish us if he can.

  i do not want to go. mother and i, we have worked to hold this together. i do not want to leave them while he circles. i do not want to travel so far. i am old. i would rest.

  but mother has spoken.

  three hunnerd years ago, we are taught, first folk from our Order comin to this place, to this long island in fenns that was called Edg by folk of Atlantis before Waters risin. our folk come and settled and plantin here great Cloyster, hedge of Yoo and Horn and Bow as is done in our Order. plant great Cloyster in circle, within it place Chappel to Lady and Long Hall for gathrin and sleepin. within Cloyster, followin its green circle, raise Poles, one every year in shape of Bird seen by he who is chosen as Dreamer. in this way does our Order live in all places in this green world. body, Erth, skin, Clay, feet, roots, all in circle. in service to Her.

  in this way do we stand against him.

  last even i am sittin in Long Hall with mother, we two old and with heavy weights on us. i would sit here listnin to Birds callin, feelin air shift as Sun goin west. but i must listen instead to mother.

  we must warn them, she says. we must warn them he is in h
olt again.

  they know, i said. they are not fools, mother.

  Swans, she says. Swans, father! since we first come to Edg they waited for this. it is given to us, father, to see them return. Us!

  perhaps.

  it is Dreamt, father, thus it is so. it is Dreamt and so you know your work.

  i am old, mother. we are both old now.

  you are called, father. Lady wills it. it is your work. go to Greenrok, listen to Birds, bring their speakin bak to me. then i will say what is to be done. it is on us now, father. we must stand.

  / sfia

  at moorin post we were lyin on dek by Waters and they move around us. Waters can see, hear us. fenn is minded, knowin, watches. when i am lyin by fenn with lorenso i would like to be in Atlantean days when only humans could see, when we thought for brief time we could make world in our shape. i would like not to be seen, not heard, if only for moment. lorenso and i, alone here. if Birds were only Birds, all seein would be some thing strange.

  i am sitting with me bak against moorin post, he is lyin with his head on me lap, me fingers in his hair strokin, me other hand on his chest. his shirt was open, his chest fine, lean. i move me fingers slow over his skin, up, down, along.

  do not say it again, i said, that is all.

  he says but, and me hand moved then from his hair to his mouth and covrin it.

  no, i say, do not. we are what we are, we are Clay and wight, we are our bodies, what you speak of is beyond all planes, it is broken. you want me, but you can never have me there.

  then we are still under Sikkel Moon, blu in dark dome of it all. he is still, only breathin, feels me hands on his skin.

  i want you here, he says.

  soon, i said, perhaps. his hand on me arm now, movin slow along and hairs risin on me arm and all up to me nek.

  tell me about your man becomin, i said. you have never told.

  it is not to tell, he says. it is for men only, as your becomin was for womyn.

  but you can tell me, i say. then i wait.