Thou, thee, thine and another fairy story

As C3PO would say, "Thank the maker!" The project that started all of this rubbish off, it was saved onto a machine that's failed! Thank the maker for bare drive interfaces! I've retrieved it, intact! It's just I can't print it out, ie finish it, until I get one tiny extra piece of information that I need to add in and I don't know when that will be. Hopefully before I go back to sea for the last time this year. It's going to be a bit of an anti-climax if it's after. Just won't be the same if it's not on the day! Oh well, life is peppered with these tiny, tiny hopes.

Now call me old fashioned ("you're old fashioned!") but I think that there is something wonderful about 'tutoyer'. English has become just a little bit worse since everyone (mostly, and then just dialect) stopped using the 'familar' personal pronouns. One of the nice things about conversing in French or German is that there comes a point where you switch from the formal to the familiar and it's like, "you've arrived". These people like you, you are their 'friend'. Alternatively, they're treating you like a small child. Come to think of it.......

But, I think, just as nice is that the sounds of the words are so much less 'harsh'. 'Tu', 'Du', sound so much nicer than 'vous', 'Sie' and perhaps even more so in English. Or am I imagining it? Isn't "Prithee, willst thou not come to bed" nicer, sound more pleasant than "Won't you come to bed, please?". Would Elizabeth's "how do I love thee, let me count the ways" sound as good if it were "you" instead of "thee"? I don't think so.

And so, I give you a fairy story. Though it is sorely in need of a rewrite, it resists all attempts to do so. The stream of conciousness that comes at 3am on New Year's Day from half a bottle of Krug, half a bottle of Bollinger, a couple of large brandies followed by two glasses of Chablis is not to be denied. It is of a place and a time which is not here and is not now. No judgement is required except one. Would her final words be as 'loaded' if 'you' were substituted for 'thee'?

"Upon a time, a sad and lonely boy ventured far from home. In search of Life, he little guessed the narrowness of the chasm that, in places, separates Life from Love, and stepping over he was lost for a time, from sight and knowledge. Love is dangerous for those who have no learning and awareness of the divide they have crossed.

Some time later, though still entranced, he retraced his steps, and found again the straitened path that led back to Life and, crossing the gap, returned, wiser but immeasurably sadder at what had been lost. Faerie is a perilous realm and is not made for mortals. An Elfin Queen consorts with humans from boredom, for play, her love is for her own kind only.

One year later, the same lonely boy set off once more in search of Life. And though sadness was still much a part of him, the narrowness of the chasm and its place were known, and he was careful to remain on the side of Life until………

She beckoned him from across the divide, her face radiant in the morning sunshine. “Come tarry with me, kind Sir. I know of a warm hearth and a place of good cheer. You may keep to your side, I will keep to mine, you need have no fear.” She extended her hand and gestured for him to follow. Although he was fearful, he kept pace, matching her steps, maintaining the chasm between them, never approaching the edge, until the looming shadow of an iron bridge hid the sun and only the radiance of her face could be seen.

She stopped. Where the shadow was most dense, she held out her hand. Taking it, he crossed the gap. Transported by her smile, and in the glow and the warmth of her kiss, he was lured back into the sadness and the joy.

For four long years, he criss-crossed the chasm, neither at peace in Life nor in Love, yet desperate for both. For Love cares little for Life and Life has no recognition of Love and so was he pulled in both directions at once, like a pendulum, swinging in a constant cycle. Each day in Love increased the desire for Life, each day in Life increased the need for Love.

Finally, though the burden of decision was perilous, he was forced to choose. Life or Love. One or the other. To hold both, but each in its own time and place, was no longer to be borne. She would not, could not, leave. “Although I do not wish to be parted from thee, I shall die, away from Love. Life is not for such as I. I will mourn grievous at our final parting, willst thou not stay?” But without Life, he too would wither and fade. The die had been cast.

They walked back to the chasm, arms entwined, down the narrow path that led to Life. “I walk with thee to bar the gate that thou hast found, so that the way is closed. For thou willst hazard to return, this I know. But also I walk to be with thee and to say farewell.” At the chasm, he laid one foot on the other side and turned. She kissed him, one last, long, lingering kiss. As their lips parted, he placed his other foot on Life. She vanished and the chasm was gone.

He never saw her again. And yet, it is said, when the world mocks and taunts this life, her hand, ghostly and ephemeral, stretches out, from the far reaches of Love, and lightly touches his cheek. And he is at peace."

MG emailed today. He got a hug from a most unexpected quarter today for some 'toil' over the weekend. Quite spontaneous and quite made his day!