August 24th
Today, like every other day, Jaeger tutored me in articulation, elocution and pronunciation.
Next, we will start learning about the world around me. This incredible man spends a great amount of his time patiently explaining every little thing, its use and function. When I go out into the world, I will have to be able to get around by myself and not look lost.
Whenever he gets tired, we take a break and I tell him all kinds of stories: about my hometown, my life, my mother’s love for me… And he raptly listens to me, taking interest in the ways of the 20th century, asking a myriad of questions about our schools and our habits in general, even taking notes every so often. He seems delighted with my outbursts of nostalgia.
I’ve told him that I, too, used to be a teacher in my time and I’ve spoken to him about my preference for history. With these conversations I have been overwhelmed by a great spiritual thirst; the thought of an immense prospect suddenly opening up in my field helps me temporarily
forget my situation and makes me quiver with anticipation. And this thirst in my heart, only some steps away from this new and unexpected El Dorado, only I can feel.
(In the middle of the night)
I’m tired. I’ve been walking around on the terrace for hours on end in the divine serenity of the night. I feel a hint of joy springing up inside me, as if I could hear my heart beating. Am I feverish again? The prospect of the new emotions welling within me meets the permanent turmoil of my mind. Will I stop obsessing over this incredible experience and slowly become accustomed to it? Will I become a normal person that finds interest in everyday life again?
Will I be worthy of new excitement? I feel like an avid philatelist who has just been offered the King of England’s stamp collection and can’t wait to examine it; or like a Classics scholar who has just gained access to the Library of Alexandria.
August 25th
Jaeger said to me tonight, “Trust Stefan. He’ll lead you through everything, step by step.” I kindly requested him to give me some more history books for now, and he promised he would. He also suggested the Reigen-Swage (these are the surnames of two inventors of a device that projects image and sound in different sizes: from the internals of palaces to simple personal devices. Something like our TV set), something completely new to me, a type of narration that consists of a simultaneous combination of sight and sound, which you do not even need to read! A voice narrates them and you see pictures come to life before you.
“Listen to me,” he told me—and I recount his words not as he spoke them but as I understood them—“When the time comes in a short while and I will no longer be by your side, rise to the challenge and do not let your thoughts be nourished only by facts. Delve more deeply into the great spiritual paths that have now been opened to humankind. You won’t benefit much from hard facts. Try not to be dazzled by them and end up spending your hours watching them unfold in the Reigen-Swage. After all, whatever happened has happened before. History repeats itself. Try to read between the lines and see beneath the surface of mere events.
He made an allusion to the “new, bright paths” that will lead to “quenching the thirst of the longing of centuries” and to the alleviation of “humankind’s metaphysical pain”.
Nevertheless, I am not entirely in a position to know if I’ve interpreted correctly all that this wise man has patiently taught me. It is us, he says, who pass by, not time. We, the human creatures with the short-lived biological destiny, come and go. The dimension of depth eludes us. Our antennas have a very limited capacity. They only form subjective impressions that are totally irrelevant to the true and objective “Great Reality”, the Samith (a term used by the Adersen Institute: the total of what exists. The essence of this terms is impossible to perceive due to the restriction of human abilities) as he called it.
August 26th
There come times when the idea of that huge, unknown world out there frightens me. I’m becoming accustomed to living the same, unchanging and unsurprising life, day by day in the institution; and I find some joy in it. But Stefan tells me that I have to fight against my shyness and face the life that’s out there, waiting for me.
August 27th
Today Jaeger remembered young Northam again. Then, looking straight into my eyes, he murmured, “I know Andrew is not with us anymore; but I will always call you by his name.”
Stefan told me the same thing the other day: “Let me call you Andrew…” And such was the tone of his voice that anybody would be jealous of Northam, of that rigid faith in the concept of friendship (so foreign to us) that was so strongly connected to his memory.
August 30th
A few days were enough to change everything around me! The environment, the people, the circumstances; all so different! Who could have imagined…
Chronicles from the future: Northam’s
circle and their social code
1-IX- MDIX
(The dating changes. This is our year 3906 AD and according to the dating for the future erait is 1509)
Once again, everything is crumbling inside me. A great part of the expectations and the dreams of the latter days has proven futile. The famous “environment” of my new life, the
“circle” of Andrew Northam doesn’t look like anything more than a playful and carefree bunch of young people. I am, however, starting to have fun with this whole story. Who knows, it might be just another defense mechanism of my mind…
The plan for this morning was a walk by the nearby lake, with boats that you could hire.
Youth, laughter, noise, singing; Stefan was struggling to marshal them at every turn.
•
Hilda! Hilda! Wait! We can’t catch up! Andrew can’t run!
He looked somewhat annoyed by the fact that his girlfriend happened to be the one who was far ahead of everyone and that she was the reason why the whole group accelerated. Walking between him and Silvia, his other friend, it was difficult to catch up.
•
“Sorry Andrew,” Hilda later said, “my mind was elsewhere…”
I felt that I had to say something nice to her as well. I looked at her; truth be told, she was very pleasant to look at. Forcing an awkward smile I said that it didn’t matter and that I was now feeling strong enough- which was a lie. Stefan noticed my fatigue and suggested we have another break. Luckily the rest of the road was downhill.
I sat next to Stefan on a bench made of stone and we listened to Axel and Eric who were talking about the beauty of spring mornings while collecting poppies. Silvia was chit chatting with Aria. Juliet and Hilda were chasing a couple of blue butterflies.
“Is this the group of Andrew’s friends then?” I meditated in disappointment. “I think that no one could expect to gain great knowledge from this bunch of big children…”
These two twenty-five-year-olds along with the four girls and Stephan, stormed into the institution three days ago, as soon as the doctors allowed visitors. They surrounded me full of joy, screaming and laughing and asking me a thousand questions! They could hardly contain their excitement from seeing me strong and healthy again- that is, Andrew Northam.
I was impressed by their manners that would be considered rather childish for their age. It seemed very strange for Northam to have such a circle of friends since I knew that, before the accident, he was a respected young scientist who had worked in some sector of applied physics- I don’t remember which one exactly- and with quite good results for that matter. In fact, the institute for which he was working had called the Molsen Institute several times asking about his health.
Unintentionally, I looked towards the North, behind the high mountains, with a vague sense of nostalgia for my old homeland. I felt a tear trapped in the corner of my eye. I didn’t say anything to Stefan at that moment; he was showing me some villas, far into the distance, that looked innumerable, almost like entire states. He told me that in many places they had kept the same archaic names like Waren, Cernobbio, Belano, Menaggio and others, names that sound weird now that the language has changed.
Hilda had the idea to sing a song with the rest of the girls. It was a spring song that they sang all together, stanza by stanza. It’s a fun and entertaining song to sing between friends. Out of the blue, a window opened, a girl appeared and started accompanying the song with her violin. Right next to her, a painter, who, up until then, had been struggling with his palette and his brushes, pulled out a flute and accompanied the melody in turn.
How did that happen? How did these people leave their jobs and tune themselves with our rhythm and our way of having fun? I was immensely impressed by that spontaneous and easily acquired joy, their positive attitude and their will to identify with us! The fun was generalized as if the rhythm of the song became an invisible bond that made us one! Before we headed to the lake, we applauded our new friends and they applauded us, as if we were old mates or acquaintances.
The guys then started pinning flowers on the girls’ lapels. Stefan pinned it on Hilda, Axel on Juliet and Eric on Aria. Silvia was looking at me with a hint of a smile, waiting for my move.
With trembling hands I pinned the flower on her lapel like the others did, and we marched holding hands, like little children. The four boats were ready. Most of the other groups of friends had already taken position and greeted us, the “late arrivals”, raising their right hand and waving to us from afar. The white sails were already set.
I stop and observe their codes of conduct. As Stefan explained to me, in this new world prevails the strange habit of not being strangers to anyone. They talk to people they have never met open-heartedly, like they are old friends of theirs; and the latter respond with the exact same way in return. They all have the same kind of relaxed attitude, the same naivety in their manners, the same benevolence, the same tact, the same brotherhood, as if they have all gone to a big, universal college in their childhood.
