MD farewell embarkation 124,125

[Madeleine Maudlin]

Aht least yours flies?  Ah thi'hk mah' Seaward scuttle Underwhirl'n 'neath
the's lofting Pillows?  A'Wet with Wine...?

Ah've not stumbl'd 'pon th' Greah' Cheese?  But yes, I've heard something
about the island being a living creature.  'nd Ah didn't know thah' Mason
'as a Wife?

On Tue, May 22, 2012 at 5:41 PM, Alex Colter <recoignishon at gmail.com> wrote:

> Dammit I cannot find my copy of M&D to properly consult the Context of
> this passage... it often does this, become a pain really, you can see it
> flying Butterfly-Like flapping it's cover whilst the pages below oscillate
> like a sea-creature down the Suburban streets, communicating with the local
> Dogs in languages best left unremembered, instructing them upon the
> differences in War-Time and Peace-Time Bark-Modulation... or perhaps
> revealing to them the proper method of Olfactory Apprehension of any
> Spirits that may wander past... goes limp like just-another-Book whenever a
> Human passes by, nothing-to-see-here-folks, usually beneath foliage that
> well accompanies its thickness...
>
> Where was I...
> Ah, foreshadowing the Passage, or Anti-Passage, soon to take place upon
> the Purgatorial Isle... the madness present there of dwelling atop a Living
> Creature whose history includes Violent Eruption, hey?
> Jere somehow is able to mind the Clock throughout the preparations for and
> the Transit is self, as Mason in America recalls, despite growing "so
> abstracted" with the excessive use of Dagga as learned from the Natives.
> I believe this is after Mason tells Dixon about his Wife, the story about
> the Great Cheese that would surely have taken his life if not for the Grace
> of a watchful Maiden soon-to-be Mrs. Mason.
>
>
> On Tue, May 22, 2012 at 4:53 PM, Madeleine Maudlin <
> madeleinemaudlin at gmail.com> wrote:
>
>> "Thankee, Dixon. Always useful, talking things over. Well. Convey my warm
>> sentiments to any there who may yet feel such for me."
>> "Thah' won't take long."
>> "Mind y'self, Jere. Mind the Clock."
>> "See thee at Christmastide, Charlie." ...
>> Mason nods, gazing past the little Harbor, out to Sea. None of his
>> business where Maskelyne goes, or comes,--God let it remain so.  The Stars
>> wheel into the blackness of the broken steep hills guarding the Mouth of
>> the Valley.  Fog begins to stir against the Day swelling near.  Among the
>> whiten'd Rock Walls of the Houses seethes a great Whisper of living Voice.
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>
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