Discomposed, decomposed and eventually recomposed and possibly translated and retranslated; not to mention rediscomposed and redecomposed leading to further rerecomposition and reretranslation – plus endless shouted debate and wars.
But let us remember the bible and yes, you’re right, it is reminiscent of a much debated, argued over multicultural blog. Stone blog or blog stone. Whatever technology is to hand. Was it sensible to attempt to call a halt and announce that this was the one text; we don’t need any further texts . . . well, just a little interpretation, a little exegesis.
Suddenly there is lots of time because we drift in timelessness – almost – the seasons, the rituals of the priests, the heavens wheel above us. Light pollution and clocks – who needs them! Get up there and ring the bells, Brother Raymond. How he hated the trudge up that tight spiral in the dark. Arthritic knees, hips, pretty well everything. It all ached or was on fire with pain. Pain, Brother Raymond was a world expert on pain. He dreamed of the midden, to lie his way into the deep shit of the monastery.
Softness and warmth was the longed for requirement, touched on in dreams of his three lovers of so long ago. To hold, to softly stroke in the dark, those two letters from Giulia. Years had passed; she would be as old as he was. Except in his mind she was the sixteen year old, velvet sweet, girl that he had first glimpsed on the via Appia.
Torn apart by her decision to enter the creative writing convent just outside the walls of Rome. He begged her not to but to no avail.
In a dark doorway, she whispered, afraid of being overheard, her mouth close to Raymond’s cheek, he could smell her sweet breath, feel the warmth of it on his chilled flesh, her lips so close, her eyes feverish with excitement, Raymond, we’ve got to make it up, create a new world, this old world is finished.
How many years ago was that? The gate of the convent slammed shut. After years of wandering, he found himself at the gates of the monastery, starving, in need of God’s mercy and the generosity of the monks.
There was a glint of light to the east. Giulia was probably living in her new world of light and love. He jumped madly at the bell rope.