Tag: reading

Analysis of ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’

To Kill a Mockingbird is a 1960 novel by Harper Lee, winning the Pulitzer Prize the following year. The book has been widely read in high schools and middle schools in the US since as early as 1963 (I read it in Grade 10 English class in the mid-1980s in Canada); the choice of TKAM as a suitable subject for teen classroom study has been controversial, given its use of racial slurs, the topic of rape, and occasional mild profanity.

The novel was adapted into a film in 1962, starring Gregory Peck (who won a Best Actor Oscar for his portrayal of Atticus Finch) and Mary Badham, with Phillip Alford, John Megna, Frank Overton, Rosemary Murphy, Brock Peters, Estelle Evans, Paul Fix, Collin Wilcox, James Anderson, Robert Duvall, and William Windom. The film was also nominated for a Best Picture Oscar.

Despite the novel’s controversial subject matter of rape and racial prejudice against blacks, TKAM is famous for the warmth and humour of its narration. Finch, the lawyer father of Jean Louise “Scout” Finch–who narrates the novel as an adult and who as a child is played by Badham in the film–is a hero and model of integrity for lawyers, since it is Atticus who takes on the burden of defending Tom Robinson (Peters), a black man falsely accused of raping Mayella Ewell (Wilcox) in a town so prejudiced against blacks that there’s no way he’ll be acquitted, even though it’s established that his ‘raping’ of her would have been physically impossible.

There was a mixed response to the novel upon its publication. Despite the “astonishing phenomenon” (to use author Mary McDonough Murphy’s words) of TKAM, with many copies sold and its widespread use in schools over the years, there’s been surprisingly scant literary analysis of it. I hope what I write here won’t be little more than a repetition and variation of what others have already said about it.

An obvious theme in the novel is prejudice, though it isn’t limited to the prejudice against blacks. A major issue, at the beginning of the story, for Scout, her older brother Jeremy “Jem” Finch (Alford), and their friend, Charles Baker Harris (“Dill”–Megna), is their fear of reclusive Arthur “Boo” Radley (Duvall), who is perceived by the three kids as a dangerous, violent psychopath. They believe this because of horrific stories about him, based on the gossip of their neighbours, which is the basis of their prejudice against him.

Actually, Boo is a shy man who would like to be friends with the kids, and so he often leaves little gifts for them in the tree knothole by the Radley house. The kids are content to take the gifts, and while they find him fascinating and mysterious, they’re still scared of him, wanting to goad him into coming out of his house so they can see him while keeping a safe distance from him.

Like Tom Robinson, Boo is a “mockingbird” of the story, against whom it would be a sin to kill. These two are kind, gentle people who would never harm anyone (except in self-defence or the defence of others, as in the case of Radley defending Jem and Scout from an assault at night towards the end of the novel, an assault from a character who is a true danger to many: Bob Ewell (Anderson).

Ewell and his family are a personification of the ‘white trash’ stereotype in many ways. Apart from their virulent racism against blacks, there’s a general vulgarity about them that anyone would find repellent.

One would feel some sympathy for Mayella, Bob’s daughter and a target of much of his abuse, of which sexual abuse is strongly implied in the story, as well as physical and emotional abuse. Still, she helps to enable the charge of rape against Tom Robinson, when we learn that it was actually she who made sexual advances on him. (Lee, pages 259-260)

There’s another child in the Ewell family, a boy named Burris, who keeps failing the first grade in Scout’s class, because he shows up only on the first day of every school year. He’s filthy dirty, and Scout’s teacher, Miss Caroline Fisher, tells him to go home and wash the lice out of his hair. The boy demonstrates his vulgarity by calling her a “snot-nosed slut” before leaving the classroom. (Lee, pages 35-37)

Now, I mention this ‘white trash’ stereotype among poor people in the story, but this doesn’t mean that stereotypes are tossed around everywhere without any sensitivity in TKAM. On the contrary, Lee takes pains in her narrative to defy stereotypical thinking as much as possible. The Ewell family, as well as the ‘ladylike’ but hypocritical Mrs. Merriweather and her gossipy ilk, are exceptions to the rule.

To contrast a good (or at least relatively good) poor family against the Ewells, there are the Cunninghams, who are portrayed in a largely sympathetic way. Little Walter Cunningham is invited to the Finch’s house for a meal, since the boy is hungry; this is after he’s got into a fight with Scout at school. He helps himself to a generous amount of molasses during the meal, at which Scout frowns in disapproval, then she is reprimanded by Calpurnia (Evans in the film) for being judgmental about his indulgence. (Lee, pages 32-33) The Cunninghams are so poor, hit hard by The Depression, that they can’t pay in cash for anything.

The boy’s father, Walter Cunningham Sr., pays off his debt to Atticus for his legal services by giving him firewood, vegetables, and other supplies. As a poor farmer, Mr. Cunningham is a mix of good and bad. His willingness to give things in place of money in exchange for this or that good or service shows how honorable he is to respect others for what good they’ve done for him (on an individual level, what he’s doing is rather like gift culture).

His bad side, however, is seen when he is part of a mob intent on lynching Tom Robinson. A moral weakness of many among the poor is their tendency ‘to punch down,’ or to hurt those in a weaker social position than they’re in, as with poor white Cunningham as against poor black Robinson; this is equally true of Mayella and her false rape accusation. These people would do better ‘to punch up,’ or fight the rich capitalist class instead.

It is Scout’s sweet, innocent words to Mr. Cunningham that make him relent and take his would-be lynch mob back home (pages 204-206). She asks him about his entailment (<<< from legal 3rd definition) and his son, Walter Cunningham, Jr. In this relenting, Mr. Cunningham redeems himself a bit and thus rises above the ‘white trash’ stereotype.

Scout herself is the perfect embodiment of a character in TKAM who defies stereotypes, for she is a tomboy. She typically wears denim overalls rather than dresses, and she often gets into fights with boys at school; I mentioned above her fight with Walter Jr. She is a lovable contrast to the stereotypical gossipy ladies like Mrs. Merriweather (Chapter 24).

It’s important that the novel confront the problem of stereotypes and then defy them, for of course it is stereotypical thinking, with the sweeping generalizations it makes about this or that group of people (‘all blacks are like this,’ ‘all poor people are like that,’ ‘all women and girls do this or that sort of thing,’ etc.), that leads to prejudice against those people.

Prejudice, as we know, often leads to killing. Because of prejudice against Tom and the stereotyping of blacks, he’ll not only be found guilty of a crime he didn’t commit–a crime it should be easy to see he couldn’t possibly have committed–but also shot dead…with seventeen bullets…when trying to run and escape from prison (page 315).

Atticus decries the stereotyping of and sweeping generalizations made against blacks during his closing statement to the jury for Robinson’s trial (page 273). He speaks of “the evil assumption–that all Negroes lie, that all Negroes are basically immoral beings, that all Negro men are not to be trusted around our [i.e., white] women” (Lee’s emphasis). Atticus speaks ironically that this is “a lie as black as Tom Robinson’s skin”.

One ought to remember that such racist generalizing about blacks is not limited to poor, uneducated, ignorant ‘white trash,’ much to the dismay of the educated liberal. Even a philosopher as otherwise brilliant as Hegel was not above making unfair generalizations about “the Negro” (a word which, by the way, was once the polite word to use for black people, as was colored…back during such times as the Jim Crow years). One need only read the Introduction of Hegel’s Philosophy of History (“GEOGRAPHICAL BASIS OF HISTORY,” pages 91-99) to see what I mean.

He claims that Africa is “the land of childhood,” (page 91) that “The Negro…exhibits the natural man in his completely wild and untamed state” (page 93), and that among them “moral sentiments are quite weak, or more strictly speaking, non-existent.” (page 96) Thus, apparently, to paraphrase Hegel’s conclusion on page 99, Africa should be left out of a serious discussion of history as “movement or development”.

Apart from the general lack in Marx of the ugly racism we see in Hegel, my other reasons for preferring Marx to Hegel include how Marx’s theory of the base and superstructure can explain how it’s the social relations of production (the base) that result in the legal, political, and cultural realms (the superstructure) that are in turn used to justify the base, therefore perpetuating the entire system in a seemingly endless loop. In other words, Marx explains how class antagonisms result in the very racism Hegel so thoughtlessly rationalizes. It is not Hegel’s “World Spirit” that will bring mankind closer and closer to freedom, but Marx’s revolutionary overthrow of the system that will do so.

To get back to Boo Radley, the kids regard him as “a malevolent phantom” (page 10), a “haint” that lives in the Radley house. We imagine a ghost saying “Boo,” and this nickname that the kids have for him sounds like a short form for the racial slur “boogie,” which had already been used against blacks since the early 1920s (i.e., through its association with ‘boogie-woogie’). Though the use of “spook” as a racial slur for blacks was only first used in the 1940s, well after the setting of TKAM in the Depression-era 1930s, the book’s publication in 1960 means that Lee must have been aware of its use as a slur, and so the notion of regarding Boo as a ghost fits in with how prejudice against him parallels prejudice against blacks.

When we finally get a physical description of Boo Radley, we learn that his skin is a sickly white, his face and hands in particular–so white as to be far whiter than normal (page 362). There’s an irony in how this far whiter than white skin is on a man against whom the prejudice parallels that of a black man like Tom Robinson.

According to the gossip of Miss Stephanie Crawford (Dill’s aunt in the film, and played by Alice Ghostley), Boo took a pair of scissors and stabbed them in the leg of his father (page 10). This stabbing of phallic scissor blades in his father’s leg can be paralleled symbolically with Tom Robinson’s supposed rape of Mayella. It’s another apocryphal story used to reinforce prejudice against someone who’s actually gentle.

Jem gives “a reasonable description of Boo” on page 16. Actually, it’s a sensationalistic, exaggerated, and terrifying description. Apparently, Boo eats raw squirrels and cats, which explains his bloodstained hands. There’s a long, jagged scar going across his face. His teeth are yellow and rotten, of those he still has. His eyes pop, and he usually drools. Such an ugly description parallels that of any racist for the ‘ugly,’ dark appearance of black people.

As scared as the kids are of this supposedly terrifying man, though, they’re also fascinated with him, Dill in particular wanting to know what he looks like (page 16). They start daring each other to go up to the Radley house and get an up-close look at him (pages 16-19). This mix of fascination and fear of those one is prejudiced against can be compared to the human zoos of the past, where whites would look at, for example, Africans in enclosures; then there’s that opening scene in Office Space, on the commute to work, when Michael Bolton is grooving to hip hop in his car, but he gets terrified when a young black man approaches, so Bolton locks his car door and turns down his music.

Going against all of this prejudice are the words of wisdom that Atticus imparts onto Scout: “You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view….until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.” (page 39) Put another way, empathy is the cure for prejudice.

Still, the kids persist in their fantasies about Boo Radley, even acting out dramas of the Radley family, with Scout playing Mrs. Radley, just sweeping the porch, Dill playing old Mr. Radley, pacing the sidewalk and coughing, and Jem playing Boo, who “shrieked and howled from time to time.” (pages 51-52) This is rather like how so many of us, even when told about the virtue of empathy, persist in our prejudices against blacks and other minorities, scorning empathy as “woke.”

Only in the case of Jem, Scout, and Dill, they’re all just little kids who don’t know any better. Unlike so many adults who persist in their bigotries, the three kids will learn the error of prejudicial thinking, thanks to their progressive-minded father and their closeness to Calpurnia, who helps humanize blacks for them by her example. Indeed, during Robinson’s trial, the kids will go up to the area of the courtroom to watch the trial with the blacks, including Reverend Sykes. This kids’ sitting with the blacks is a symbolic desegregation that will be very good for them, and it will help pave the way for Scout’s acceptance of Boo Radley by the end of the story.

The kids’ gradual learning of the evil of prejudice may be good for them, but it’s also painful, for in this process of learning, they will also lose their innocence. Jem’s loss of his pants while escaping from Boo can be seen as symbolic of that loss of innocence (Chapter 6, pages 72-73).

With the theme of the loss of innocence is all feigned innocence masking guilt, as well as imagined guilt hiding an actual innocence. We see the former in how the three kids seem all sweet and innocent, yet they’re being naughty in their repeated trespassing on the Radley property, which is based on their not-so-innocent prejudging of Boo Radley.

There’s also the seeming innocence of the charming Maycomb community, who seem all sweet, innocent, and Christian, yet they’re tainted with racial prejudice. This problem is by no means limited to the Ewells: others, including Mrs. Merriweather in the Missionary Society, put on hypocritical airs of Christian piety (Chapter 24), yet they display blatant racism towards blacks (Merriweather, for example, uses the word “darky” to refer to blacks on page 310). Then there’s the attempt, led by Mr. Cunningham, to lynch Tom Robinson. There’s also the gossiping of the community.

On the other side of the coin, there’s the real innocence of Boo Radley and Tom Robinson, which is obscured behind all the prejudice against the two. It should be clear early on that Boo means no harm to the kids when he leaves the gifts in the tree knothole for them. Finally, his defence of Jem and Scout against Bob Ewell’s assault on them proves once and for all what a good man Boo is. Near the end of the story, when Scout sees him and says, “Hey, Boo,” then Atticus gently corrects her by saying, “Mr. Arthur, honey,” it’s like someone telling a racist not to use racial slurs when referring to blacks.

Speaking of blacks, Tom Robinson is clearly a kind, gentle human being who only wanted to be helpful to Mayella in doing little household chores for her, and with no remuneration for it. Her sexual advances on him, then her accusation of rape, were not only an attempt to hide her guilt behind a veil of innocence, but also a projection of lechery onto him.

Robinson, like Radley, is a “mockingbird,” a symbol of innocence. It’s a sin to kill, or otherwise harm in any way either of these men–or people like them–because they do no harm to anyone; they do only acts of kindness, just as how mockingbirds will just “sing their hearts out for us,” as Miss Maudie says to Scout (page 119), to explain to the little girl what her father meant by it being acceptable to shoot all the bluejays she and Jem want to shoot with their air-rifles, but never to shoot mockingbirds.

Never harm the innocent.

One of the biggest problems we have in this world is our inability to tell the difference between the innocent and the guilty. That inability is the result of our minds being tainted with prejudice–a loss of our own innocence.

Because of this taint of prejudice, Atticus’s job of defending Robinson, what should be a straightforward one of establishing a reasonable doubt that he raped Mayella, has become nearly impossible. The fact that Robinson’s left arm is useless and crippled, the result of an accident with a cotton gin when he was a child, demonstrates that he couldn’t possibly have given Mayella the facial injuries she got from the rape she accuses him of, injuries that in all probability came from the left hand of her assailant.

Bob Ewell, however, is left-handed, as he shows the people in the courtroom when he writes his name on an envelope for all to see (page 237). That it’s far likelier that a villain like Bob, who drinks and poaches to feed his poor family, is the one who hit and perhaps even raped Mayella, rather than Robinson, is completely lost on the prejudiced jury.

There are no lengthy debates between Atticus and Mr. Gilmer, the prosecutor (Windom) during the trial. Gilmer must imagine, correctly, that he’ll easily win this case simply because the defendant is black. The “witnesses [have] been led by the nose as asses are,” older Scout notes in the narration (page 252), which is an allusion to a soliloquy by Iago in Othello (Act One, Scene iii, lines 444-445), a play about a black man being manipulated by scheming, vengeful white Iago. Just as Othello is led to his destruction by Iago, so is Robinson being led to his destruction by the lies of a white supremacist society.

Because of all of these problems, what should be an easy defence for Atticus has become a near-impossible one. Not only will this job be as difficult for him to do as I’ve said, but he’ll also be hated as a ‘nigger-lover’ for doing it (e.g., Bob Ewell’s vengeful attempt on the lives of Jem and Scout). If he refuses the job, though, he won’t be able to live with himself, let alone give non-hypocritical moral guidance to his kids (pages 139-140).

His annoyance at having to deal with problems that shouldn’t exist when defending Robinson is rather like in the incident when he has to shoot the rabid dog (Chapter 10). Sheriff Hector “Heck” Tate (Overton) wants Atticus to shoot the dog because Atticus is a much better shot than Tate (page 127); similarly, Judge Taylor wants Atticus to take on the Robinson case. Shooting the mad dog is symbolic of ridding Maycomb County of racial prejudice. Here is an animal that should be killed…to protect the truly innocent.

Interestingly, TKAM also explores how racial prejudice can go in the opposite direction. In Chapter 12, Calpurnia takes Jem and Scout to the church of the black community, and a black woman there named Lula is annoyed to see two white kids in their church. Now it’s Calpurnia who has been put in Atticus’s shoes, telling Lula there’s nothing wrong with whites attending their church (page 158).

Lula’s the only one there who has this negative attitude, though, for as Zeebo, the garbage collector, says, the rest of the black community are all mighty glad to have Jem and Scout there in church with them (page 159). It’s in this church that the kids meet Reverend Sykes, who as we know later will have the kids with all the blacks in the balcony area of the courthouse for the trial. Of course, the kids have no prejudice against blacks, for Scout would like to go and visit Calpurnia at her home (pages 167-168), and Calpurnia would be glad to have them come over.

Now, just after Scout has asked to see Calpurnia in her home, Scout looks over at the Radley Place, “expecting to see its phantom occupant”, but it isn’t there. She still needs to get over her hangups about Boo.

Older Scout as narrator observes “a caste system in Maycomb, where the people “took for granted attitudes, character shadings, even gestures, as having been repeated in each generation and refined by time.” (page 175) Examples of such “character shadings” and stereotypes are then given for the gossipy Crawfords, the morbidity of one third of the Merriweathers, the dishonest Delafields, and the idiosyncratic walk of the Bufords. Here are examples of Maycomb prejudices and stereotypical thinking that have nothing to do with race or ethnicity.

Another such example of prejudice is in Aunt Alexandra and her attitude toward the Cunninghams. She won’t have little Walter Cunningham over to the Finch’s house because, in her opinion, “he–is–trash, that’s why” (page 301). We know the Cunninghams, for all of their faults, are nowhere near as bad as the Ewells, but they’re poor enough to be “trash” in Aunt Alexandra’s eyes.

To get back to Robinson’s trial, when Mr. Gilmer is cross-examining him, it’s clear that the prosecutor is relying a lot less on examining the evidence for or against Robinson than on using anything about him to reinforce stereotypical thinking about him, to get an easy conviction. Gilmer begins his cross-examination by mentioning Robinson’s having gotten thirty days for disorderly conduct, implying that Robinson had beaten up “the nigger” really badly, when actually, it was Robinson who got badly beaten (page 262).

Next, Gilmer links Robinson’s being strong enough to bust up chiffarobes and kindling with one hand, “to chok[ing] the breath out of a woman, and sling[ing] her to the floor.” (page 263) It doesn’t matter if there’s any actual proof of Robinson doing that to Mayella…just establish the possibility (however unlikely) of him doing that, just because he’s black. Gilmer also reverses the sense of appearance vs reality with Tom by saying he’s “a mighty good fellow, it seems” by helping with the Ewells’ chores “for not one penny” (page 263).

Gilmer is shocked to hear Robinson say he helped Mayella for free because he felt sorry for her (page 264). It doesn’t matter how poor or ‘white trash’ the Ewell family are, or how it should be obvious that Bob Ewell abuses her. Robinson has every reason in the world to feel sorry for her, but such an idea is unmentionable, since she is white and he is an ‘inferior’ black man.

Yet the whole problem with such things as racial and ethnic prejudice, class conflict, sexual abuse, and the mistreatment of women is that there’s a lack of feeling sorry for people, a lack of empathy, the presence of which would be the beginning of a cure to these problems. We’ll notice how in this trial there’s no real concern with getting justice for Mayella–not even she is really concerned with it, so indoctrinated is she with the prejudices of her community. It’s all about finding a scapegoat in the form of a black man, to rid the Maycomb community of its sin.

What’s deeply saddening is how, in Atticus’s real hopes that an appeal of the guilty verdict will lead to an acquittal, “the shadow of a beginning” (page 297), Robinson still ends up shot and killed.

Yet another example of the liberal hypocrisy in the Maycomb community is when, in Scout’s class with Miss Gates, the teacher contrasts the “DEMOCRACY” of the US with Hitler’s fascism and persecution of the Jews (pages 328-329); yet Scout has also seen Miss Gates leave the courthouse after the Robinson trial, and she’s talking with Miss Stephanie Crawford about how the blacks in their community should learn a lesson from the trial about “gettin’ way above themselves, an’ the next thing they think they can do is marry [white people].” (page 331)

Jem and Scout have come to a better understanding of people by the end of the novel. Scout figures “there’s just one kind of folks. Folks.” (page 304) Jem can understand that idea, but he’s upset about how that “one kind of folks” always “despise each other”. He can understand that it’s this contempt for one’s fellow man that makes Boo Radley want to stay shut up in his house all the time.

In a conversation earlier with Jem on page 196, when the boy mentions the Ku Klux Klan, Atticus dismisses the idea, saying “It’ll never come back.”

After the attempted lynching of Robinson that Atticus saw, one wonders how he could be so sure of there being no return of the Klan.

Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird, New York, Grand Central Publishing, 1960

The Tanah–The Laws, Book 2, Chapter 8

[The following is the twenty-eighth of many posts–here is the first, here is the second, here is the third, here is the fourth, here is the fifth, here is the sixth, here is the seventh, here is the eighth, here is the ninth, here is the tenth, here is the eleventh, here is the twelfth, here is the thirteenth, here is the fourteenth, here is the fifteenth, here is the sixteenth, here is the seventeenth, here is the eighteenth, here is the nineteenth, here is the twentieth, here is the twenty-first, here is the twenty-second, here is the twenty-third, here is the twenty-fourth, here is the twenty-fifth, here is the twenty-sixth, and here is the twenty-seventh–about a fictitious discovery of ancient manuscripts of a religious text of narratives and magic spells. Its purpose for my readers and me is to provide a cosmology and mythography on which I am basing much, if not most, of my fiction–short stories and novels. If anyone is interested in reading this fiction, he or she can use these blog posts as references to explain the nature of the magic and universe in my fiction.]

The basic principle underlying the avoidance of all sins, put in another way from that of the preceding chapter, can be summed up in this final law:

Magic should never be used in aid of treating other people unfairly.

The basis of fairness is found in what was discussed in the first chapter of Beginnings–the principle of Cao, a never-ending ocean that is the entire world. The waves of Cao make everything equal–the Unity of Action.

That equality, however, is not rigid and unchanging, like a straight line. All things in Cao are fluid and moving, and therefore fairness is also dynamic.

To ensure a fluid fairness, one must look where the crests of good fortune, and the troughs of ill fortune, are, then reverse them. After such a reversal, reverse them again, and again, and again.

So if those in the crests of good fortune have plenty, while those in the troughs of ill fortune have little, that plenty must be moved to those with little; then when those formerly lacking are sated with much, their abundance must be moved to those newly lacking.

The waves of good and ill fortune must be always moving to share the abundance with those who lack. The good and wise will always be vigilant in seeking out who has little, and therefore who needs to have crests move to new troughs. The wicked, however, refuse to do this sharing of crests.

The wicked will try to justify keeping the crests of wealth to themselves, imagining their fortune to be the natural way of things, when it most certainly is not! Thus, they will leave those in troughs of poverty to remain in a state of want. In this way, the wicked would have the waves of Cao freeze, with their own crests a permanent advantage, and the troughs of the poor a permanent disadvantage. The wicked will also use magic in aid of their greed.

Depriving the poor of food, drink, housing, medicine, or clothing is already wicked. Using magic to aid in this deprivation is far worse. Refusing to aid the vagrant foreigner entering one’s nation is already wicked. Using magic to worsen his plight is a far greater sin.

Trying to freeze the flow of the waves of Cao is as impossible as it is to stop the alternating of day and night, of halting the light of Dis and the darkness of Noct. The heat of Nevil’s fire, the heat and desire of Hador, must not be used to cause the coldness of Calt to deny the poor of warmth.

When the rich and powerful try to keep their crests of wealth to themselves, using magic to aid them in their greed, they can be assured that the Echo Effect, the law of sow and reap, will keep the waves of Cao moving, to bring a deep trough of sorrow to punish them for their sin!

When the fortunate try to keep the light of Dis, and the heat of Hador’s desire, to themselves, they can be assured that the Echo Effect will bring them Calt’s coldness and Noct’s darkness!

[The text breaks off here.]

The Tanah–The Laws, Book 2, Chapter 7

[The following is the twenty-seventh of many posts–here is the first, here is the second, here is the third, here is the fourth, here is the fifth, here is the sixth, here is the seventh, here is the eighth, here is the ninth, here is the tenth, here is the eleventh, here is the twelfth, here is the thirteenth, here is the fourteenth, here is the fifteenth, here is the sixteenth, here is the seventeenth, here is the eighteenth, here is the nineteenth, here is the twentieth, here is the twenty-first, here is the twenty-second, here is the twenty-third, here is the twenty-fourth, here is the twenty-fifth, and here is the twenty-sixth–about a fictitious discovery of ancient manuscripts of a religious text of narratives and magic spells. Its purpose for my readers and me is to provide a cosmology and mythography on which I am basing much, if not most, of my fiction–short stories and novels. If anyone is interested in reading this fiction, he or she can use these blog posts as references to explain the nature of the magic and universe in my fiction.]

The basic principle underlying the avoidance of all of the sins previously discussed is one that can sum them all up in one law.

Magic should never be used in aid of only oneself.

Use of magic with oneself as the one and only concern is what leads to all of the other sins. This is why the teaching of the Three Unities, as passed down to us from Rawmios, is so important. These unities of space, time, and action teach us our place in the world, as well as how to live well in it.

As for avoiding selfish purposes in using magic, one must focus on the unity of space, for it teaches us that we are not separate from each other, as our sense perception deludes us into believing. We are all one: everywhere is here. The suffering of one causes suffering for others, and the joy of one causes joy for others. When we can fully understand how the self is in the other, and the other is in the self, we will know the unity of space, we will have compassion for each other, and be selfless in our use of magic.

The selfish use of magic, though, leads to the Ten Errors, which deny the unity of all things. Selfishness leads to mad thinking, being dazed by images, the scurrilous use of language, all work and no rest, family fighting, murder, adultery, theft, lying, and greed.

Selfish uses of magic, as noted above, also lead to the sins warned against in the previous chapters.

Using magic in aid of all the forms of fornication makes a mockery of the unity of humanity. We are to be unified in spirit, not in body (except through marriage).

Using magic to be cruel to other people, or to animals, denies the unity connecting all of life. Kindness to each other, and to animals, restores and strengthens that unity.

Using magic to control others denies our unity with others and reinforces our illusion of separateness. Relinquishing control of others allows for the full freedom of everyone.

Using magic to start wars, or to take the land of other peoples, denies the unity of all of humanity. We must always be mindful of our common humanity, all around the world, and never regard one nation as greater than any other.

Using magic to gain excessive wealth, or to steal, denies the unity maintained between honest livelihoods and obtaining our necessities with the use of money, as elucidated among the Ten Errors. It also denies the unity of humanity between the rich and the poor, creating even greater division between men by making the rich overly luxurious and the poor wretched.

These abuses of magic, only for one’s own gain and at the expense of all other people, not only cause pain and suffering for many, but also ensure division between men, egoism, and isolation. The Echo Effect, moreover, will ensure that the pain, division, and isolation will come back to punish the sinner. Do not think they won’t come back to plague the guilty!

The Tanah–The Laws, Book 2, Chapter 5

[The following is the twenty-fifth of many posts–here is the first, here is the second, here is the third, here is the fourth, here is the fifth, here is the sixth, here is the seventh, here is the eighth, here is the ninth, here is the tenth, here is the eleventh, here is the twelfth, here is the thirteenth, here is the fourteenth, here is the fifteenth, here is the sixteenth, here is the seventeenth, here is the eighteenth, here is the nineteenth, here is the twentieth, here is the twenty-first, here is the twenty-second, here is the twenty-third, and here is the twenty-fourth–about a fictitious discovery of ancient manuscripts of a religious text of narratives and magic spells. Its purpose for my readers and me is to provide a cosmology and mythography on which I am basing much, if not most, of my fiction–short stories and novels. If anyone is interested in reading this fiction, he or she can use these blog posts as references to explain the nature of the magic and universe in my fiction.]

There is one particularly wicked way to control others, and to be cruel to others at the same time. This way is through the taking away of another people’s land by use of military force, and this brings us to a discussion of the next sin.

Magic should never be used in aid of starting wars.

Now, using magic in aid of defending one’s land against invading armies, or in aid of resistance against an occupying power, is a perfectly worthy aim. We elders do not recommend, however, that we Luminosians, currently under the yoke of the Zoyans, should use magic in resistance against them. Indeed, we should not resist the Zoyans at all, for it is the Echo Effect, the law of sow and reap, that justly put us in bondage to them as punishment for our having invaded the city of Zaga and oppressed and killed their people. The Echo Effect will one day free us of the Zoyans, once our penance is complete; we must have faith in the eventual arrival of the judgement of the Echo Effect.

It is indeed providential that the name of the people who oppress us, the Zoyans, should be so similar to the name of the people we Luminosians once oppressed, the Zagans. In this similarity of names, the Echo Effect seems to be teaching us something of the law of sow and reap. What we do to others will one day come back to us, like our voices echoing back to us.

We had succeeded in using magic in aid of liberating ourselves from the Tenebrosians, as related in “Migrations,” because our bondage to those people was not a reaping of any evil we had sown. Our invasion of the city of Zaga, however, had a success that would not last because it was evil. We therefore should not use magic in aid of liberating ourselves from the Zoyans; nor should we–once we are finally liberated from the Zoyans, through the Echo Effect–ever contemplate invading, making war with, and oppressing another people, especially not with the aid of magic.

War is political murder, and murder is one of the Ten Errors as related in “Beginnings.” One must never kill or harm another, except when absolutely necessary, as in self-defence or the defence of others.

No people has the right to take land away from another people. If one people has done so, in order to mitigate the punishment of the Echo Effect, they should restore the land they stole to its original inhabitants as soon as they realize the gravity of their sin; for if they do not do so, terrible will be their loss one day!

We Luminosians, enslaved by the Zoyans, are a lesson in history, not only to the children of our posterity, but also to the peoples of all nations of the earth. If ever you invade other lands and kill their people, you will one day have your land, stolen as it is, stolen from you, and you will be killed, too! The use of magic in aid of such sins only strengthens and intensifies the sin, resulting in a harsher punishment for you!

The Tanah–The Laws, Book 2, Chapter 3

[The following is the twenty-third of many posts–here is the first, here is the second, here is the third, here is the fourth, here is the fifth, here is the sixth, here is the seventh, here is the eighth, here is the ninth, here is the tenth, here is the eleventh, here is the twelfth, here is the thirteenth, here is the fourteenth, here is the fifteenth, here is the sixteenth, here is the seventeenth, here is the eighteenth, here is the nineteenth, here is the twentieth, here is the twenty-first, and here is the twenty-second–about a fictitious discovery of ancient manuscripts of a religious text of narratives and magic spells. Its purpose for my readers and me is to provide a cosmology and mythography on which I am basing much, if not most, of my fiction–short stories and novels. If anyone is interested in reading this fiction, he or she can use these blog posts as references to explain the nature of the magic and universe in my fiction.]

There is the sinful use of magic in aid of indecent pleasure, and there is also the sinful use of magic in aid of inflicting undeserved pain on others. This leads us to a discussion of the second sin on the list from the first chapter.

Magic should never be used in aid of cruelty to others.

Such cruelty is not to be limited to cruelty to one’s fellow man, but also cruelty to animals, the needless destruction of plant life, or that of any form of life in our world. Killing of any kind must have justification and be necessary.

Cruelty exists in many forms, and magic can and has been used in aid of these forms. They include beatings, intimidation of the weaker and smaller, torture, murder, sexual violation for the purpose of causing another pain, the spread of lies and slanders, and many others.

The Luminosians, on the taking of Zaga and in their rule of it, were guilty of all of these cruelties, as well as the use of magic in their aid.

When Zagans tried to resist the Luminosian theft of their land, we used magic to aid us in beating them. The magic spells we used gave us greater force in our fists and the clubs we used to hit them with.

Against Zagan resistance, we also used magic in aid of intimidation. Our magic spells made us appear larger, fiercer, and more frightening to the Zagans, making them recoil and retreat.

We Luminosians would capture Zagan resistors and subject them to torture. We would use magic spells to sharpen and intensify the pain we inflicted on them, to deter the rest of them from resisting us.

Other Zagans, who tried more aggressive forms of resistance, what we called ‘terror,’ were murdered by us. We Luminosians used magic spells to murder many more Zagans than ordinary weapons could, and our spells made the deaths far more painful and slow than ordinary weapons could. This sin of ours was the true terror.

While in the previous chapter, we discussed uses of magic in the aid of using women, girls, and even animals for the sake of filthy, lewd pleasures for oneself, there is also the use of magic for such filthy and lewd use of these objects of supposed love that is meant to inflict pain. This sin was often committed by Luminosians against Zagan women and girls, as part of our intimidation and subjugation of all Zagans.

We also used magic spells to help spread lies and slanders against Zagans, calling them ‘uncivilized,’ ‘barbarian,’ ‘animals,’ and the like, in order to justify our cruelty to them. The magic spells were used on our own people, so Luminosians would never doubt the lies about the Zagans. Only a few of us had the wisdom not to allow ourselves to fall under the spells of the wicked among us.

In time, all these evils came back to us in kind! The Zoyans use their own magic to aid them in beating, intimidating, torturing, murdering, raping, and slandering us. The Echo Effect returned our sins to us. Those sins will also be returned to the Zoyans one day, freeing us finally. When that day comes, we must remember never to use magic for evil again!

Analysis of ‘Murder on the Orient Express’

Murder on the Orient Express is a murder mystery novel written by Agatha Christie and published in 1934. The novel’s original American name on publication that year was Murder in the Calais Coach, so as not to confuse it with Graham Greene‘s 1932 novel, Stamboul Train, which in the US was published as Orient Express.

HRF Keating included MOTOE in his list of the “100 Best Crime and Mystery Books.” Mystery Writers of America included the novel in The Top 100 Mystery Novels of All Time list in 1995. MOTOE was included in Entertainment Weekly‘s 2014 list of the Nine Great Christie Novels.

It has been adapted for radio, film, TV, the stage, comics, and video games. As for the two film adaptations, I’ll be focusing on the 1974 one as a comparison to the novel, and not the 2017 version, because first of all, I’ve seen the former version and not the latter, and second, the former is generally considered to be much better than the latter, in spite of the latter’s strong cast and good production values.

The 1974 adaptation’s ensemble cast includes Albert Finney (as Hercule Poirot), Martin Balsam, George Coulouris, Richard Widmark, Sean Connery, Lauren Bacall, Anthony Perkins, John Gielgud, Michael York, Jean-Pierre Cassell, Jacqueline Bisset, Wendy Hiller, Vanessa Redgrave, Rachel Roberts, Colin Blakely, Denis Quilley, and Ingrid Bergman (who won the Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her portrayal of Greta Ohlsson in 1974).

Here is a link to quotes from the 1974 adaptation.

Now, the crucial element of MOTOE, the motive for murder being the case of the kidnapping and killing of the little girl, Daisy Armstrong, was inspired by a real-life kidnapping and murder case, that of the son of Charles Lindbergh, back in 1932. There are a number of other parallels in Christie’s novel with the Lindbergh case, too: the parents were famous, the mother was pregnant, the child, a firstborn, was kidnapped for ransom directly from the crib, and the child was killed even after the ransom had been paid. The Lindbergh maid was suspected of complicity in the crime, and after a harsh police interrogation, she killed herself, just as in the novel.

Linked to the Armstrong case as prompting the murder of the suspect, who though responsible for the crime had escaped justice through corruption and legal technicalities (as well as his leaving the US), is the issue of whether or not vigilante justice is valid. In a world of corrupt courts and governments, where the wealthy can pay their way out of having to face justice for any crimes they commit, that very justice is still needful, and when the crime is so heinous–like the killing of a little girl–that it is unbearable, then even Poirot can see that vigilantism should be winked at.

Now, if you’ve never read the book or seen an adaptation of it, read no further to avoid spoilers. If you know the solution to the murder, though, read on.

The murder victim calls himself Samuel Ratchett, but his real name is Cassetti, and he’s an American gangster responsible for the kidnapping and murder of Daisy Armstrong. As is the case with any murder victim in a detective novel like MOTOE, he has an extremely unlikeable personality, so the reader is left wondering which of the suspects hates him just enough to want to murder him. As far as Poirot is concerned, he comes to dislike Ratchett right upon his first meeting with him, and thus refuses to be employed to protect him (Christie, pages 19-31).

As for the guilty in the average murder mystery, we may assume there to be one, maybe two, killer(s). In the case of MOTOE, though, all of the passengers on the train in the coach which includes the area including and between compartments four and sixteen, starting with that of Pierre Michel (Cassell) and ending with that of Edward Henry Masterman (Beddoes in the film–Gielgud) and Antonio Foscarelli (Quilley), that is, except for the Countess Helena Andrenyi (Bisset, though in the film, we see her and her husband, the Count Rudolph Andrenyi [York], hold the knife and stab together) and, of course, Poirot, are collectively guilty of the murder.

Ratchett is thus stabbed twelve times, with varying degrees of strength or weakness. Each stab is from one of the suspects, so there are twelve of them, making up a kind of vigilante jury…and a “trial by jury is a sound system” (page 134), according to Col. John Arbuthnot (Connery), which is something Poirot emphasizes later as being “composed of twelve people” (page 266).

So, their twelve-man jury is meant to give a kind of juridical legitimacy to their revenge, since the actual law has failed them. They aren’t merely murdering a man–they’re passing a death sentence onto him, as he had onto the sweet little three-year-old girl.

Note also that it isn’t just she who died. Recall the suicide maid accused of complicity in Ratchett’s crime. There are also Daisy’s father and mother: she, Sonia, gave birth prematurely to a still-born child and died herself as a result of the labour; he, Col. Armstrong, shot himself out of grief. So the revenge of the ‘jury’ wasn’t just for the death of the little girl, but for a total of five deaths, all just to sate Cassetti’s greed.

Let us now consider who the ‘jurors’ are, what their relationships are–by blood or not–with Daisy and the other four, and therefore what their exact motives are. Mrs. Caroline Hubbard (Bacall) is revealed to be the American actress Linda Arden, and the maternal grandmother of Daisy, and so also Sonia Armstrong’s mother. Mary Debenham (Redgrave), mistress of Arbuthnot, is an English governess and thus formerly that of Daisy; as for Arbuthnot, Col. Armstrong was his best friend. Princess Natalia Dragomiroff (Hiller) is Sonia Armstrong’s godmother. Hector MacQueen (Perkins) is Ratchett’s secretary and translator, a job he got to get close to Cassetti; MacQueen’s father was the Armstrongs’ lawyer, and MacQueen also had feelings for Sonia. Count Andrenyi takes the place of the Countess in the murder, she being Sonia’s sister. Foscarelli was the Armstrongs’ chauffeur.

There are still a few more. Greta Ohlsson (Bergman) is a Swedish missionary who was Daisy’s nurse. Masterman became Rathett’s valet to get close to him; he was Col. Armstrong’s batman in the war and his valet in New York. Hildegarde Schmidt (Roberts) is Princess Dragomiroff’s German maid; she was formerly the Armstrongs’ cook. Cyrus Hardman (Blakely) is an American former policeman who was in love with the French maid who killed herself after being falsely accused of aiding and abetting Cassetti. Michel is the Orient Express train conductor and father of the suicide maid.

When we see who these characters are, we can then understand that the five deaths are not just a statistic. These people deeply grieved over the losses of those they loved. And when they saw the corrupt court wink at Cassetti for the pain and suffering he caused them, just through his having paid off the authorities, can you even begin to imagine the rage that swelled in the hearts of that dozen or so people? There was no way that they would let Cassetti get away with what he did.

Now, Ohlsson in her religiosity would naturally have found it almost impossible to reconcile her Christian beliefs with her participation in a murder; she surely gave Ratchett one of the weakest of the stabs. In the novel, when reminded by Poirot of the Armstrong case, she gets all emotional, saying that the killing of the little girl “tries one’s faith.” (page 110) The commandment, ‘Thou shalt not kill,’ must have been ringing in her ears forever since she gave that stab; indeed, Bergman as Ohlsson quotes the commandment in the 1974 film.

Still, she may find some solace in that very same Bible she surely has with her all the time. She can read Ecclesiastes: “To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose after heaven.” (3:1) Then she can read a little past that: “a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to break down and a time to build.” (3:3) Yes, even in the Bible, it says there’s a time to kill.

There are times when the law fails us, when the government and the ruling classes whom these institutions work for (as opposed to working for the common people!) grow so rank in their filth and self-serving that the people must rise up and take the law into their own hands. The killers of Cassetti all come from different countries, classes, and backgrounds, ranging everywhere from a Russian princess to an Italian-American chauffeur/car salesman; such a diversity of walks of life shows the universality of their passion to seek justice through unavoidably violent means.

As Mrs. Hubbard explains towards the end of the novel, “It wasn’t only that he was responsible for my daughter’s death and her child’s, and that of the other child who might have been alive and happy now. It was more than that. There had been other children before Daisy–there might be others in the future. Society has condemned him; we were only carrying out the sentence.” (page 273)

Very often, when an act of vigilante justice is acted out against any of these rich, powerful people, as in the case with Luigi Mangione against the CEO of UnitedHealthcare, there will be those liberals out there who condemn Mangione’s violence, but stay silent over the repeated violence of the denial of health insurance claims, which leads to many deaths or bankruptcies. When confronted with the Gaza genocide, these liberals will pipe in, “But do you condemn Hamas?”

The fact that the twelve killers are of all different social classes, from royalty to the working class, can be see to symbolize people from across the political spectrum: left, centre, and right. Such people in our real world–being enraged at the injustices of the corrupt health insurance industry, government in bed with corporations, and Zionism’s ongoing atrocities against the Palestinians–may have differing diagnoses of these problems, but their anger is the same. The anger and presumed political attitudes of the twelve killers can be considered to be similar.

As for Ratchett/Cassetti, he–as a rich mafia man paying off the courts so he can escape punishment for his crimes–can be seen to personify predatory capitalism, a representation I’ve made in many other blog posts.

Poirot proffers up two possible solutions to this murder case on the train. The first, contrived by the actual killers obviously to shield themselves from suspicion, is that a man boarded the train at Vinkovci, disguised himself as a conductor, and killed Cassetti as part of a mafia feud, then left the train before it went off again and got caught in the snowdrift that has kept the train from moving during this entire investigation.

Evidence of this simple first solution includes the discovery of a conductor’s uniform, with a missing button, in a large suitcase among the belongings of the princess’s lady-in-waiting, Hildegarde Schmidt (page 194). Elsewhere, there has been Mrs. Hubbard’s vociferous complaining of a man being in her compartment around the time of the murder, a complaining given with particular loquacity in Bacall’s performance.

Yet Poirot is able to piece together what really happened through various slips of the tongue from the suspects and certain inconsistencies in how the events of the night of the murder were presented to him–the far more complex solution that incriminates the twelve suspects. Examples of such slips include Schmidt’s freely-given boast that all of her ladies have praised her cooking, implying that she was the Armstrongs’ cook. Inconsistencies include the understanding that it was Cassetti calling out, on the night of the murder, something in French, a language he couldn’t speak a word of, hence his employment of MacQueen as his translator.

Still, in the end, after contemplating how, as Finney’s Poirot puts it, “a repulsive murderer has himself been repulsively, and perhaps deservedly, murdered,” as well as considering Mrs. Hubbard’s long speech at the end of the novel, explaining the twelve killers’ reasons, which include how “Cassetti’s money had managed to get him off” (page 272), the first solution is preferred.

This judgement is made by Monsieur Bouc (Bianchi in the film–Balsam), who is a director of the Compagnie Internationale des Wagons-Lits, and Dr. Stavros Constantine (Coulouris) at the very end of the novel (page 274), leaving Poirot to retire from the case. As we can see, compassion for the twelve is far more fitting than for Cassetti. It is their crime, and not his, that should be winked at. Those in power should be the ones brought down when guilty of a crime, not the powerless.

Agatha Christie, Murder on the Orient Express, London, HarperCollins, 1934

The Tanah–The Laws, Book 1, Chapter 4

[The following is the twentieth of many posts–here is the first, here is the second, here is the third, here is the fourth, here is the fifth, here is the sixth, here is the seventh, here is the eighth, here is the ninth, here is the tenth, here is the eleventh, here is the twelfth, here is the thirteenth, here is the fourteenth, here is the fifteenth, here is the sixteenth, here is the seventeenth, here is the eighteenth, and here is the nineteenth–about a fictitious discovery of ancient manuscripts of a religious text of narratives and magic spells. Its purpose for my readers and me is to provide a cosmology and mythography on which I am basing much, if not most, of my fiction–short stories and novels. If anyone is interested in reading this fiction, he or she can use these blog posts as references to explain the nature of the magic and universe in my fiction.]

While it is perfectly good and wise to use magic to aid and benefit others, and wicked and foolish to use it for selfish or malignant ends, the very best use of magic is to gain knowledge and enlightenment. As far as enemies of the community are concerned, magic should be used for defence–never for attack.

Use magic as an aid in meditation, for contemplation of the foundations of all being in the world: the Three Unities of Space, Time, and Action; the Echo Effect, and how to make it return good to oneself, and not evil; the Crims of air, Weleb, fire, Nevil, earth, Drofurb, and water, Priff–not to use them for personal gain at the expense of others, but for how they interact with and parallel the Unity of Action and the Echo Effect; and the most foundational of everything, Cao and the Pluries.

One should use magic to help in studying all of these, to know the world better, to understand its rhythms, and thus to become wiser. This wisdom will aid in making decisions that will benefit the community, deliver them, we hope, from their current slavery under the Zoyans, and protect them from the temptations that do only harm.

In this, we can see the wisdom of combining magic with the old teachings. If used well, magic can give concrete examples of exactly why the old teachings are wise and correct; if used foolishly, to replace the old teachings, magic will be only a curse to the community, if not now or soon after, surely at some point in the distant future, and it will be only a harsher curse the later it comes.

If one wishes to contemplate the Three Unities of Space, Time, and Action, while also contemplating the four Crims of the elements, one can sit in a bath of water up to the neck, with the smell of mud surrounding it, a breeze blowing around one’s head, and a fire burning nearby. With one’s eyes closed and breathing in and out slowly and deeply, one relaxes, goes into a trance, and can feel not only a closeness to Priff, Drofurb, Weleb, and Nevil, but also the waves of Cao with Weleb’s breeze blowing on the water.

In feeling the unity of all things in this way–the unity of the complementing Crims, the wavelike Unity of Space in Cao, and also staying mindful of the ever-present now–the Unity of Time–one can feel how the Echo Effect moves to bring weal or woe to us all. While sitting thus in the bath, one can chant, “Cao, Pluries, make me know you,” over and over again. The bath is best had outside, so that after the chant has been said enough times, the rain should fall, soaking one’s head in the Pluries to achieve even greater illumination. It is good that the rain will quench the nearby flames; the spell will thus help to calm the fires of desire, malice, and selfish craving.

Doing this meditation and spell often enough will help one feel a oneness between oneself and all others, even with animal and plant life, thus strengthening love, compassion, and goodwill to all others, even to those outside the community. If enough of the community does this meditation and spell regularly, it may even cause the Echo Effect to free us all from slavery to the Zoyans.

[The text breaks off here.]

The Tanah–The Laws, Book 1, Chapter 3

[The following is the nineteenth of many posts–here is the first, here is the second, here is the third, here is the fourth, here is the fifth, here is the sixth, here is the seventh, here is the eighth, here is the ninth, here is the tenth, here is the eleventh, here is the twelfth, here is the thirteenth, here is the fourteenth, here is the fifteenth, here is the sixteenth, here is the seventeenth, and here is the eighteenth–about a fictitious discovery of ancient manuscripts of a religious text of narratives and magic spells. Its purpose for my readers and me is to provide a cosmology and mythography on which I am basing much, if not most, of my fiction–short stories and novels. If anyone is interested in reading this fiction, he or she can use these blog posts as references to explain the nature of the magic and universe in my fiction.]

Part of maintaining the unity of opposites, and finding a balance between them is to respect the unity between oneself and all other people, as well as animals and plants–the Unity of Space. All life must be respected when using magic, as so it must be used for good, used selflessly.

Magic spells must be conjured with thoughts to help those in need, not to harm others. Are there many poor among you? Use magic to lift them out of poverty, not to immiserate them further.

Conjure up food for the hungry to eat with your spells. Give them water to drink: if the rivers and lakes have dried up from a drought, use magic to make the rain fall again–call on Priff, the Crim of water, for aid. If the plants have all died, your spells should make the plants grow again, to fertilize the soil–call on Drofurb, the Crim of the earth, for aid.

Are there any sick among you? Use magic to heal them and restore them, in body and mind. If you use your spells to cause sickness or death on those you hate, the Echo Effect, the law of sow and reap, will bring such sickness and death back upon you!

Are there any without learning, without the ability to read and write, or who are lacking the knowledge and skills needed for a livelihood to earn one’s daily bread? Use your magic skills to give the ignorant this learning, these abilities, this knowledge, these skills. In helping others to learn and grow, you will be helping yourself, for their knowledge and abilities will come back to you one day, to help you through the Echo Effect.

Are there many among you without homes? Use your magic to build homes for them. Are there any naked and cold among you? Do spells to clothe them and keep them warm–call on Nevil, the Crim of fire, for aid.

When you use your magic to do good for others, do not ask for anything in return from those people: ask not for gold, servitude, nor for the pleasure of a woman in bed. Wait instead for the Echo Effect to give you your reward–waiting without impatient expectation!

Any use of magic for the benefit of oneself must be done with the greatest of care. Is this benefit to oneself justified? Is it reasonable, or is it in excess? Is it a waste of power? Is it indulgent? Is it truly needed, as those uses of magic to help others are, as noted above? Or is the benefit at the expense of other people?

Is the pleasure you receive from the spell harmful to others, or eventually to yourself? Do you use it to violate a woman? Do you use it for a temporary euphoria that will become poisonous to you? Do you use magic to gain by taking from others? Do you use it to rise in power by making others fall from it? Do your spells increase your wealth by making others poor?

If you do any of these evils, the Echo Effect will ensure that you will be harmed, violated, poisoned, losing by theft, falling from power, being made poor. In using magic, use the greatest of care. Consider how the Echo Effect may turn your spell around. Will it be turned around in a way that will do you good, or will it do you the evil that you yourself have caused?

The Tanah–The Laws, Book 1, Chapter 1

[The following is the seventeenth of many posts–here is the first, here is the second, here is the third, here is the fourth, here is the fifth, here is the sixth, here is the seventh, here is the eighth, here is the ninth, here is the tenth, here is the eleventh, here is the twelfth, here is the thirteenth, here is the fourteenth, here is the fifteenth, and here is the sixteenth–about a fictitious discovery of ancient manuscripts of a religious text of narratives and magic spells. Its purpose for my readers and me is to provide a cosmology and mythography on which I am basing much, if not most, of my fiction–short stories and novels. If anyone is interested in reading this fiction, he or she can use these blog posts as references to explain the nature of the magic and universe in my fiction.]

When these laws, for the ethical and responsible use of magic and invocations of the Crims, were first being formulated, the Luminosians had been under the yoke of slavery at the hands of the people of Zoya for about five years already. Therefore, the Luminosians had had ample time to reflect on the consequences of their sinful treatment of the Zagans. As miserable as the Luminosians were, they also knew they had deserved their misery.

Finally, they had heard the chiding of the elders. They understood their former slavery under the Tenebrosians had not given them the right to invade and colonize Zaga, either enslaving the Zagans or exiling them, leaving them to starve in the wilderness, as the elders had told the Luminosians so many times.

With bitterness, the once-again-enslaved Luminosians saw the error of their ways from having used their magic selfishly, to amass wealth and indulge in the physical pleasures of fornication and drug-induced euphoria, neglecting their duty to their fellow man, to the poor, and to the outcast. Their return to drudgery was only their just punishment.

Still, the use of magic and invocation of the four mighty Crims–Weleb of the air, Nevil of the fire, Priff of the water, and Drofurb of the earth–was not entirely devoid of virtue. If such use is for the greater good of all, to help the needy, to gain in wisdom, and to defend from danger, then magic can perform a great good.

Similarly, the elders showed humility and generosity in acknowledging the limits of the old teachings. Now, a consensus was reached among all Luminosians: balance the use of magic with the old teachings–have the two complement each other. Such is the purpose of the chapters to follow.

Commentary

As the above is a commentary in itself, no additional commentary was deemed necessary.

The Tanah–Migrations, Chapter Three

[The following is the fifteenth of many posts–here is the first, here is the second, here is the third, here is the fourth, here is the fifth, here is the sixth, here is the seventh, here is the eighth, here is the ninth, here is the tenth, here is the eleventh, here is the twelfth, here is the thirteenth, and here is the fourteenth–about a fictitious discovery of ancient manuscripts of a religious text of narratives and magic spells. Its purpose for my readers and me is to provide a cosmology and mythography on which I am basing much, if not most, of my fiction–short stories and novels. If anyone is interested in reading this fiction, he or she can use these blog posts as references to explain the nature of the magic and universe in my fiction.]

The Luminosian practitioners of magic began their ritual by collecting twigs and piling them on a small hill of dirt. They did this by the edge of the cliff over which they could see the city, named Zaga, which they wanted to invade, settle in, and colonize.

When the wind was blowing unswervingly in the direction of Zaga, they lit the twigs and began their incantation to the beat of a drum: “Fly to Zaga! Fly to Zaga!”

Drofurb, Weleb, and Nevil were the Crims appealed to in this endeavour to take the city. Priff was left out since it was felt that water would weaken the power of Nevil’s fire. Apart from the evil that the elders decried in this taking of a city that didn’t belong to the Luminosian invaders-to-be, the elders also noted how the neglect of Priff in the ritual would throw the four elements of air, fire, earth, and water out of balance.

“Throwing fire over there will send a flood of water back to us, I prophesy!” one of the elders warned. “A lack of Priff will bring Priff to us in an unwelcome manner!”

“Hear, hear!” the other elders shouted in agreement.

“Silence!” one of the supporters of the ritual shouted back. “You’re diluting the effectiveness of the ritual!”

“Good!” that first elder said. “You are all doing evil!”

“Silence!” more supporters of the ritual shouted.

“Fly to Zaga!” continued the chanters of the ritual. “Fly to Zaga!”

From the burning pile of twigs on the hill of Drofurb’s dirt flew a few sparks at first. Then, after the chant had been repeated enough times, louder and louder, those sparks were getting bigger, growing into small balls of flying fire. These were now being blown by the wind, Weleb’s air, over the cliff and towards Zaga.

“It’s working!” one of the supporters of the ritual shouted, then he pointed over the cliff at Zaga. “Look! Nevil’s fire is flying over to the city! Zaga will soon be ours!”

“No, no,” the elders moaned. “Not like this. No!”

The rest of the Luminosians cheered as the balls of fire flew in a swarm closer and closer to Zaga.

Some of the people of the city looked up at the sky and noticed the flock of lights coming to them.

“Look,” a Zagan man said to his wife, pointing at the distant lights. “What is that up there?”

His wife looked at the coming balls of light with fear. She pulled their son and daughter close to her waist.

More Zagans noticed the nearing lights. Eyes and mouths widened.

“Fireflies?” a Zagan woman asked.

The Luminosians cheered and chanted “Victory!” as the elders held their heads in their hands.

The Zagans could hear the Luminosians cheering in the distance. A few Zagans saw them on the cliff and pointed up at them.

“Who are they?” a man pointing up at the Luminosians asked. “Did they send those lights?”

Soon, it became clear to the Zagans that the approaching glowing balls were not mere lights. They were not fireflies. They were a danger.

“Balls of fire!” a Zagan woman screamed. “A weapon!”

“They’re coming to kill us all!” a Zagan man yelled.

All the Zagans started to run and scream.

The balls of fire were about the size of rocks put in slings and shot thus. They penetrated the backs of most of the running and screaming Zagans, exiting through their chests and leaving holes in their torsos. The victims, men, women, and children, fell down with their faces hitting the dirt.

Those few Zagans who weren’t hit managed to get outside of the city or hide in their houses or shops. They all wept, wondering what they had done to deserve such a cruel fate. How had they angered the gods?

The triumphant Luminosians descended from the cliff down a grassy incline to the side of the cliff, all cheering, singing, and dancing in praise of the Crims. The mass of them entered the city of Zaga, looked around all of the buildings, and took control of everything.

They went into the houses and claimed them for themselves. Any Zagan families hiding in them were given a choice: leave the city, or become slaves. The few who stayed, out of a wish never to leave the homes they loved, were heartbroken to see these others taking their homes and forcing them to do slave labour in them.

Again, the elders denounced their fellow Luminosians for doing such evil.

“You may enjoy this crest of good luck now,” one of the elders warned. “But we will all suffer a terrible trough for your sin. Perhaps not soon, but it will come. You will see!”

“Oh, do be quiet!” the new Luminosian owner of a Zagan house said. “Our trough was slavery under the Tenebrosians! This, now, is our crest, to be enjoyed forever!”

The other Luminosians cheered at these words.

“Oh, you fools,” another elder said. “Crests never last forever. You have no understanding of the old teachings.”

“We have no use for the old teachings!” said the wife of the Luminosian who took possession of the Zagan house.

The Zagan family who chose to stay in their house, and become the slaves of its new Luminosian owner, could only weep.

The other surviving Zagans–who were outside the city and left in the surrounding wilderness, not even allowed to fish in the lake or eat the fruit of the trees around Zaga–were forced to migrate as the Luminosians had had to do. They were starving.

Commentary

This narrative demonstrates how religious or philosophical ideas can be misused to justify acts of cruelty and injustice. Others have hurt us, so we ‘have the right’ to hurt others, even when those others we’re hurting aren’t the same as those who hurt us, or who hurt our ancestors.

It’s haunting how this ancient narrative is still relevant to events contemporary with the publication of these translations…and especially relevant to them.