Alexandria: A Novel

by Paul Kingsnorth

  he is still, still movin his hand gently along me arm and now strayin on to me chest. now i know he will tell me what i ask.

  i can say some, he says then. all air is still, fenn listnin, and i. i want to know him. i will make him tell.

  when you come to man age elders take you in to holt for many miles, he says. you walk and walk, some times they blind fold you, some times not. i walked may be for three days. we come to open place, build fyr, eat meat so rare it is livin on me tongue. we sang. around fyr then they stood me up, puttin ash on me body, crown of Willo and Alter on me head and they said: if you see great Cloyster again, you will be man. then they pass me wooden bowl with drink in and it made me tongue shrink and curl. i slept long, and when i woke it was light and i am alone.

  alone? i said.

  this is what it is, sfia, this is wall that must be crossed. boys go out in to world, men comin bak. if you do not come bak, you are not man. i wandered for weeks, i think. i did not know way we had come, i knew nothin. they left me seeds, nuts, dry Appel. i had to hunt. i had to kill. i knew to take life of any wight was wrong but i kill and eat and it is like me whole body singin. all mens bodies singin when they capture, when they kill, in blood of triumph, it is Way. blood in our mouths, under finger nails, it is like birth, when we see what we are. this is what we all see in becomin, men and womyn: what we are, in our old bodies that make us. we are body, body is Erth, Erth is all power and love and hate and Water and fyr that furls in us. there is nothin beyond body, nothin beyond Erth.

  he looks up at Moon now.

  for weeks or days i hunt, eat, walkin, he said. listen at night to sounds in holt. there are great wights in there, some i see in shadows in small glimpses. but i can not find Edg. i can not find home, no matter how i seek.

  i say: how did you come bak?

  i came bak when i stopped seekin. when i stopped thinkin. i knew when i found home again that this was all law. boys become men when boys stop thinkin and lookin and become body, become wight, become holt and fenn. holt

  saw me always when i was wandrin but i did not ask holt for help, i only asked me self. Birds saw me, Willo and Alter on me crown knew me, fenn heard me calls and cryin but i cried not to fenn only to what i saw in me mind. then when i am tired and have no food i sit down with me bak against great Oke and i felt i was sinkin in to Tree and i said: guide me.

  i stopped seekin path. i stopped wantin home. now i was only followin sparks and touches of air, ripples of light, small flashes between Trees not seen by eyes, sounds of Bird song, dance of fallin leafs. we are body, body is Erth, we are fyr Water air. i was open like river now, only flowed with no thought of Sea and then i was home. then i was man, sfia.

  now he is runnin his hands slow across me breasts, his fingers are long and gentle. now i will have him in me body and this also is river runnin through this place and through us, and what fenn thinkin, what holt sees now i am not given to care. Moon sees us twined on edge of fenn in half light, movin in leafs at edge of Water. Moon sees and Moon says nothin.

  / canto ~ the binding of Man

  Bak then

  Man comes

  Mind runnin

  Fingers curlin

  Man walkin

  Man workin

  Man seein old Sir Pent

  Man said:

  What is this

  That has no form?

  What is this

  Unclean and blak

  Twinin low round oldest Tree?

  This is no holy thing

  And Sir Pent says:

  There is no holy thing, Man

  But you

  And Man says:

  This is not Way

  And what are you?

  You are no thing of this ground

  You have no arms

  You have no legs

  You have no hair

  And from your tongues come broken words

  Broken words

  And Sir Pent said:

  I am no thing of this ground

  I am thing from under it

  I am thing from before Worlds makin

  I am thing from outside Way

  I bring Truth from under ground

  Come, Man, come

  Climb World Tree

  And from its crown

  Then you will see

  / father

  she is right. mother is always right. last even i took me cnoo out to where fenn meets Sea, out west where great screamin blak cliff reachin up from Water to Sky like promise.

  Gol circlin great torr, Cumrant watchin me, Turn dives in to grey Sea. all Birds gathered on Greenrok. i am standin in cnoo, it is hard now i am old, stiffnin, but still i am standin there and raised arms to Sky, for this is me work.

  i am here, i said.

  all is still.

  great Lady, Birds who are Her children:

  Swan Dream has come.

  all we have waited for. Swan Dream has come.

  Swans! i called now, and now speakin to edge of holt, shoutin in to great dark Trees over hangin, for in there is one who hears all we do and he will know of Swans. he will know what this means, for his Master knowin all things.

  we have seen Swans, i say, Swans comin bak, bak this way. after nine hunnerd winters, chained Swans is broken free, as was told, and return.

  it may be you have all people now but us, stalker, it may be all have gone to dim place. but now Swans are comin, and you know what this means. you know, and your Master knowin also.

  you know, i call to holt edge, blak and green and silent. Birds now circlin me small cnoo and Wind moves on face of Water.

  you know! i call now again, and i am callin in to holt, to Trees, called as loud as me old throte will.

  you hear me, i said, and this is what you will hear, red one. this is what you will hear and what you will soon see. words we have spoken for three hunnerd winters:

  when Swans return, Alexandria will fall.

  / nzil

  do not know what to think or feel, but pain in me guts is worse this even than ever and pain in me guts speakin of what i should fear. no pain no fear. this is how it has worked.

  where is she? i do not trust her.

  who trusts her?

  she is gone again and i see him with her and they are told to work together by mother, they are sent to work on Land, in holt, some times even workin in cnoos fishin. never she is workin with me, her husband, father of our girl. always i am sent over. he is boy, child. it is shameful.

  yester day father comin to me to speak. i was in me makin place, carvin. i love this place. me hors, me bench, me nifes, all shavins on ground, turnin bak in to Clay. me hands have gift to work with wood, and this workin is me centrin prayer.

  father comin to me quiet, walkin slow with his staff. he is quiet man, but never weak.

  nzil, he says, Swaller Day is comin.

  yes, father, i said. i did not feel much like speakin. i am thinkin only of her.

  he looks out to fenn and sayin nothin for some littel time. always still, is father.

  it is hard now, he says, after some time. since stalker come, since so many goin to dim place. elders are gone, there is no counsel. mother only decidin. this is all we have now. but we must walk on.

  father drawin in gaze then, leanin on his staff, lookin at me from under hood with grey eyes.

  look, he says, raisin his left arm, sweepin it around circle. it is forest here, forest of Poles, carved over eons. oldest now is only rottin stump on floor of holt. newest is Lord Altros, made last summer.

  hunnerd Birds, says father. one made each summer by carver of our kin on day first Swaller returns. you, nzil, you in line of men and womyn chosen down ages. one Bird each year, given to us in Dreamin.

  and what is Dreamt this year, father? i ask.

  all Birds but one, nzil, he says, like i have not spoke. one Bird we could never make. one Bird could never be seen in Dreamin until time was come.

  father, i say. what will i carve? what has been
Dreamt?

  when he spoke it was like some Wind blowin in from worlds not ours.

  Swan, he says. this year, you will make Swan.

  / father

  stillness there was then from holt. no sound from red stalker, if he is there, nothin in Trees, nothin. all around me grey Water, and me standin in cnoo and Birds wheel over.

  i turn then me gaze from Trees to Sky. now i see pattern form.

  above me, Birds begin wheelin in gyre of Winds, takin shape of speakin wheel. Turn, Gol, Petrol, Cumrant, circlin over me and wheel begins turnin. And before me Greenrok, great and loomin, haulin over me in shadow now, waves washin on its blak teeth. Greenrok, home of all Birds, stone of singin, stream of Erths song to Water and Sky.

  speakin wheel now complete over me and Bird circlin is faster, clere. Turn. Gol. Petrol. Cumrant, circlin in rhythm, in tune.

  i raise me arms again.

  i am here, i say. Lady! i am here!

  Swans! i said again, arms up, speakin wheel faster now above me, all Birds circlin.

  i said: speak to me!

  and in circlin of Birds then, in waves crashin wite on dark rok, in pipin and callin over lonely Sea, words come. in Bird circle, in musik of speakin wheel, thrummin wings of gods in Sky, words come clere like bells to me, racin over Waters like racin of mind:

  go west.

  / el

  me head is like littel lokked box. yester day i said this to mam. i said, me head is like littel lokked box, is yours? i think everyones must be, because how can anyone see whats inside others? so i have this littel lokked box and all sorts of things in it. i said to mam, all sorts of things are in here and some of them are not so nice. some are scary and some are secret. but i like them all because theyre mine, and no body else can see them.

  some times mam is workin and she just nods at me when i spoke to her and goes on workin. i told her about box in me head when she is on her nees pikkin plastik from Clay or pullin out Notweed from Yam plain. she stands up this time and looks at me and smilin at me then like she does when she wants me to go to bed but i want to play in goin down of Sun.

  she stood up from Clay then and comin to me and said:

  what do you keep in your box, hun?

  / canto ~ the binding of Man

  Then Man climbin great World Tree

  And Sir Pent bindin limb to branch

  With his long blak body

  Man hangs on Tree

  Nine days and nights

  Callin, cryin

  Cryin, callin

  All wights of Land came round him sayin:

  Some thing is comin

  Bak then

  On tenth day

  Come with light then great blak Bird

  Bik of blood and eyes of fyr

  No Bird of Erth

  No Bird of Erce

  It circles Tree

  Calls in speech

  That no wight knew

  Then Sir Pent unbindin Man

  Man falls down

  Bak to Clay

  Bak to Clay

  / nzil

  i took me girl because i love to have her near and because she should know. perhaps she will be next carver, if there is any more after me. if there is any thing after us. we tell our selves tales but when we stop speakin we see what stands behind words, watchin still.

  el would play in holt all day and some days she does. great pillars of Trees in here, thik soft ground, shafts of Sun comin in, all Skitos and Flis swirlin them like some old dance. there is peace here. no great wights will come for there is none in Edg. there is no danger here.

  no danger. this is what i thought when we walked out.

  carvers first work is to find wood. no wood may be cut from livin Tree, no livin Tree may be hewed. when livin things is cut in this way it is openin of dark door way. we may not cut. when wood is needed, we walk until we find. if we do not find, we do not make.

  el is wandrin before me in holt, skippin over roots. she looks up at all Birds singin like she is hearin their words clere. she finds Likun and Shrooms and stiks and playin with them serious like it is some old task she is given. when she is in holt, holt is in her. when i am in holt there is some Sea between us. i am always out at Sea, flotin.

  what are we lookin for this time, dada? she says.

  Swan, i say. i must make Swan Pole.

  what is Swan? she says. i do not know what to say. i do not even know what i look for.

  old Bird, i said, Swan is old Bird. old wite Bird. long nek.

  have you seen one? she asks.

  no body has seen one, i say, not for eons. they are old Birds. could be they are magik. her eyes grow bigger then, tunnels in to world livin in her.

  will we see one, dada? she asks, standing on her toes. will Swans come? where do they come from? where have they been?

  i do not know, i say, too sharp, perhaps. i am sent out to find Swan, that is all. yrvidian Dreamin, i must follow his Dream. it is me work. he has Dreamed Swan. now we must walk in holt until we find Swan wood, then takin it bak, make it in to Pole.

  el lookin at me then for small moment.

  but if we havent seen Swan, she says, how will we find it?

  i took her hand so she knew i loved her. it is hard to say. i want her to remember. body remembers what mind can not.

  we will find it, i said. her hand is warm and in mine tight. you and me, we always do, dont we?

  / canto ~ the weeping of the holt

  Bak then

  All wights gathered round Man

  Focs nuzzled him

  Brok found him food

  Line layin with him

  Givin him heat

  Then Man openin his eyes

  Then Man lived

  Then Man stood on legs tall

  With new fyr in new eyes

  Now Man lookin through new eyes at holt

  And lookin now at wights before him

  And Man sayin:

  I have seen new story

  I have seen that Way is not True

  I have seen World must be broken

  For inside is wite fyr of Truth

  Only in broken things is Truth found

  And Man said:

  Now I shall seek fyr

  Now I shall walk in wite light of me makin

  Land and Sea

  Clay and Waters

  Birds and wights

  Shall bend to me

  Fyr of me seekin

  Will cover all things

  And make world as it should be

  Then tears comin to all wights in holt

  For what had come and would

  Now all cryin, callin:

  Man, do not leave us!

  Man, do not go!

  And Man sayin:

  Wights, I am gone far these nine days and nights

  For me there is no return

  No return

  Now old Sir Pent

  Curlin, windin

  Tight round roots

  Deep in ground

  Sayin:

  I have done what you asked

  Let me sleep now

  / lorenso

  she opened her self to me and it was Erth it self all livin and pulsin, windin round me like vines, creepin up me legs. in this act, in leafs and Clay, in this heat and wetness, this comin and joinin, this is all there is. this is life it self and is this not what we are taught here, is this not what Order has always taught, that in body is all? that we are wights and creatures, livin like Clay and Tree, like fenn and holt, that these bodies is door way to all that lives, that without these bodies we are daemons, ghasts?

  she is cryin to Sky with me inside her and movin. what is life but this?

  then after, again, she is feelin shame and i must listen.

  we sit by fenn and dark is come and she says, it is not right, not right for nzil, and she says, i am mother, what would me girl think, and she says, nzil is not dumb he will know, and she says, i thought yester may be even that el had seen us, she spoke lik
e she saw us. she holds me hand as she spoke but i just watch Water and wait for her to stop.

  when she stops i say: in body is Truth.

  do not speak like some sermon, she says.

  in body is Truth, i said again, this is what Order teaches us, yes? then what we have had here is greatest Truth and you can not say it was not true because i heard and felt what we did and Moon was watchin and Moon knew.

  she puts her head on me shoulder then.

  Moon knew, she says.

  now i put me arm around her shoulders and i say: if you come away with me we could—

  but now she is up she is on her feet and sudden she is not soft sudden she is hard at me.

  i said! she says, blazin, speaks fast, i said never to speak of this again! i said it to you, lorenso! ah, you are so young and dumb, what do you know? i am mother, i am wife. Order is what we have it is all we have, and what do you know? you are so young, you are barely man all you want is to fuk and dream. world is not dreamin, lorenso, and what do you even know of dreamin? what do you know? you do not even see danger in your words!

  i am small and i can not speak then. i am shrunk in and burnin in me hart at what she says to me. i only look out at Waters and not at her, and when i turn to speak she is gone.

  / canto ~ the Lady wakes

  Bak then

  Great Lady

  Mother of wights

  Mother of folk

  Bree

  Maeri

  Dine

  Erce

  She raised Her head

  Smelt Wind

  Asks:

  What is Man doin?

  He walks said Dear

  He seeks said Brok

  He burns said Bore

  To Her then She called Her Birds

  Fly She said

  Fly

  / el

  dada took me Swan huntin in holt. holt now is all in spring and is livin and dancin and so i was dancin too. i love to dance with Trees. some of them have arms like people, i can hold them and they swingin me round. dada is walkin behind, he always just walks like adults do. i never see him dance.

  i shout: dance with me, dada! he smiles but he just keeps walkin.