House Of Leaves - House of Leaves Part 34
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House of Leaves Part 34

Chapter XXIII ... ... ... . Passion.

B.

Bits [Original ]

[432-Presumably "Original" indicates an entry written in Zampano's own hand, while "A" "B" "C" etc., etc. indicate entries written by someone else. - Ed.]

January 18, 1955 I do not know anything about Art with a capital A. What I do know about is my art. Because it concerns me. I do not speak for others. So I do not speak for things which profess to speak for others. My art, however, speaks for me. It lights my way.

[Original]

April 17, 1955 Then are inhabited by history?

[Original]

September 4, 1955 Light dawns and marble heads. What the hell does this mean?

[Original]

June 3, 1959 This terror that hunts.

[Typed]

August 29, 1960 Captain Kittinger, you brought us an early fall this year.

[Typed]

October 31, 1968 I have no words. The finest cenotaph.

[Typed]

November 1, 1968 (o) (n) A sun to read the dark.

[Typed]

November 2, 1968 Tirer comme des lapins. [433- "Shot like rabbits." - Ed.]

[Original]

December 8, 1968 God grant me distraction.

[B].

March 14, 1969 Who has never killed an hour? Not casually or without thought, but carefully: a premeditated murder of minutes. The violence comes from a combination of giving up, not caring, and a resignation that getting past it is all you can hope to accomplish. So you kill the hour. You do not work, you do not read, you do not daydream. If you sleep it is not because you need to sleep. And when at last it is over, there is no evidence: no weapon, no blood, and no body. The only clue might be the shadows beneath your eyes or a terribly thin line near the corner of your mouth indicating something has been suffered, that in the privacy of your life you have lost something and the loss is too empty to share.

[C].

September 10, 1970 Nothing to share with.

[Typed]

September 21, 1970 Perhaps in the margins of darkness, I could create a son who is not missing; who lives beyond even my own imagination and invention; whose lusts, stupidities, and strengths carry him farther than even he or I can anticipate; who sees the world for what it is; and consequently bears the burden of everyone's tomorrow with unprecedented wisdom and honor because he is one of the very few who has successfully interrogated his own nature. His shields are instantly available though seldom used. And those who value him shall prosper while those who would destroy him shall perish. He will fulfill a promise I made years ago but failed to keep.

[Typed ]

December 15, 1974 As often as I have lingered on Hudson in his shallop, I have in the late hours turned my thoughts to Quesada and Molino's journey across those shallow waters, wondering aloud what they said, what they thought, what gods came to keep them or leave them, and what in those dark waves they finally saw of themselves? Perhaps because history has little to do with those minutes, the scene survives only in verse: The Song of Quesada and Molino by [XXXX]. I include it here in its entirety.

[D].

April 29, 1975 Mother wants you to call home STOP It is 105 degrees and rising STOP White Christmas indeed!

Bada-Bing, Bada-Bang, Bada-Gone!

Bing! Bang! Booooom!

[Typed]

February 11, 1984 Is it possible to love something so much, you imagine it wants to destroy you only because it has denied you?

[E].

August 4, 1985 I dream of vampires. I dream of god. I dream of no vampires. I dream of no god. I dream of nothing. And yet that too is still my dream.

[F].

May 2, 1988 The angel of his youth became the devil of his maturity. He went out with women when he was young, always holding something in reserve. There would always be a reason to break it off, which opened the door to a multitude of relationships. Heaven. Or so he thought. As age encroached upon his sensibilities and form, he longed for something with enough vitality to endure. But the covering cherub of his Lothario days had stayed with him and was no longer so angelic. It haunted him, guarded him, kept him from intimacy, promising the ash dry glory of so many toppling relationships, toppling like dominos, one after another, ad infinitum, or at least until he died.

[G].

August 30, 1988 "He wanted to go to bed with her immediately, pull the sheets around them, dig his toes into the mattress, her heals pushing against his calves, her fingers running rivers along his sides. But these days fantasies flourish and die like summer flies."

[Typed]

March 18, 1989 A maze. Amazing maze. A maze meant... What did it mean? A May zing perhaps. M.A.s in the bush or amidst the maize. Quite amazing huh? Not to wony I am not that impressed either but grant an old man a chance to play.

[H].

February 8, 1990 It stinks here. I know what stink is and it stinks here. Cat piss, rotting fruit, moldy bread. Something. I am certain that girl is at fault. She must not have taken the garbage out. She can read (I will find out soon if she can transcribe) and she can flirt. But I wager she has failed to take the garbage out. I should get rid of her. I should take it out myself. I hate garbage. It stinks. I should throw it out myself. I should throw it all out.

[I].

October 11, 1990 Incomplete. Syllables to describe a life. Any life.

I cannot even discuss Gunter Nitschke or Norberg-Schulz. I merely wanted Glas (Paris: Editions Galilee, 1974). That is all. But the bastards reply it is unavailable. Swine. All of them. Swine. Swine. Swine.

Mr. Leavey, Jr. and of course Mr. Rand will have to do.

[I].

April 22, 1991 An atrocity sinking into waters of darkness; without order or bars of earth; where light must mean shadow and reason dies in the hold: ((((((((((((Jonah in the belly of the beast)))))))))))) [I].

May 3, 1991 Stars to live by. Stars to steer by. Stars to die by.

[I].

May 26, 1991 Kutch Dekta?

Kutch Nahin, Sahib.

[I].

May 30, 1991 Do not wake me from this slumber, but be assured that just as I have wept much, I have also wandered many roads with my thoughts. Reminiscent of another film by my eye fell in. Aye.

[J ].

June 30, 1991 Goddamn! Goddamn, Goddamn it! Goddamn! Goddamn!

God Damn! Yes, of course write it down! Write all of it down!

Everything I say! Every goddamn word! Goddamn! Capital 0!

Goddamn it all! All of it, every last word. Goddamn her wrong!

[J].

July 27, 1991 Make no mistake, those who write long books have nothing to say. Of course those who write short books have even less to say.

[K].

August 7, 1992 How did I end up here? I know of course. I am referring to the itinerary I followed. But that hardly helps me understand the whys any better. I still walk out into that dusty courtyard and stand amazed, amazed that I should have ended up stuck in such a shithole, then I think to myself "Not only did you end up here, you are going to die here too!" Of course Hollywood is the land of the blind with churches for the blind so in my case it makes a certain sense. You think I am bitter about being here, yes? You think I am bitter about this grave I live in and that bed of weeds I scratch around in? You think I am bitter about dying? What do you know? You know nothing about bitterness because you know nothing about love. Get out. Get out! No, stay. Please stay. Let us read something. Forget everything I just said. It is not so bad. I am just old and you know a good deal about love and I would like to think I know something more because of my age. Let us read something.

[M].

April 3, 1992 Walls black like black waters when they are heavy and seem to belong to other seas.

[M].

December 3,1992 Why can I sleep no more?

[N].

May 7, 1993 The house is history and history is uninhabited.

[O].

June 19, 1994 Prometheus, thief of light, giver of light, bound by the gods, must have been a book.

[O].

November 11, 1994 Defend a stray's hun? Never used the word. Never will.

[P: Written in the margin of the December 15, 1974 entry.]

April 3, 1995 "Forgive me please for including this. An old man's mind is just as likely to wander as a young man's, but where a young man will forgive the stray, an old man will cut it out. Youth always tries to fill the void, an old man learns to live with it. It took unlearn the fortunes found in a swerve. Perhaps this is no news to you-but then I have killed many men and I have both legs and I don't think I ever quite equaled the-bald gnome Error who comes from his cave with featherless ankles to feast on the mighty dead. [173]

[U].

April 9, 1996 Paralipomena. n. From ME f. ecci. L f. GK paraleipomena f. PARA (It. imper. of parare defend) (leipo leave) omit.

[X].

October 2, 1996 All of which is pretty senseless without the beautiful light of Ruskin's Seven Lamps of Architecture. Oh, what is the use?

[Typed]

December 18, 1996 The cats have been dying and everyone wonders why. I can hear my neighbors murmur. They murmur all the time: "It's strange. Some cats die, some just disappear. No one knows why..."

Redwood. I saw him once a long time ago when I was young. I ran away and luckily, or no luck at all, he did not follow me. But now I cannot run and anyway this time I am certain he would follow.

[Typed]

December 21, 1996 Explanation is not half as strong as experience but experience is not half as strong as experience and understanding.

[Original]

December 23, 1996 I took my morning walk, I took my evening walk, I ate something, I thought about something, I wrote something, I napped and dreamt something too, and with all that something, I still have nothing because so much of sum'things has always been and always will be you.

I miss you.

C.

... and Pieces D.

Letter to the Editor "Seeing's Believing But Feeling's Probably Best!"

September 17, 1978 In last week's article on collectibles, you reported that a man by the name of Kuellster had several World War II Ithaca Model 37 Trench guns for sale. As shotgun aficionados are well aware, this weapon is a rare find as only 1,420 were ever produced.

Fortunately, the WWII Model 37 offers several distinguishing characteristics, including bottom loading, handy shell ejection similar to the Remington Model 10, a commercial blue finish, and standard sling swivels. It also bears some important martial markings: a small "p" on the left side of the barrel; a flaming bomb and the letters RLB (inspector Lt. Col. Roy L. Bowlin's initials) on the left side of the receiver. Kuellster's guns, however, all have a parkerized finish, lack swing swivels, and while there is a small letter proof "p" on the barrel, there is also one printed on the receiver.

All of which proves that Kuellster's shotguns, while Ithaca 37s, were produced long after the World War 11 Trench guns he is currently and falsely selling them as.

On a personal note, I wish to add that as I have been blind for over two decades, I had to determine most of this by feel. Unfortunately when I presented my conclusion to Kuelister, he demonstrated his unparalleled probity by ordering a security guard to escort "this intoxicated indigent" from his store. I suppose in his world if a recently manufactured Ithaca 37 is the same as the WWII model, gingerale must pass for bourbon.