my
idea, would chide me for being a fool. Or else they would throw me
completely out the door, because I would dare come to them with
such things, such thoughts. Thoughts that they would call immoral
and objectionable. Such ideas that dare trespass on the craft of
the Great Creator and play a trick on all of nature.
You will not laugh at me Uncle Jakob, not
you! You will not laugh at me or throw me out the door. It will
fascinate you the same way it fascinates me. That’s why you are the
only person that can do it!”
“But what then, by all the gods,” cried the
Privy Councilor, “what is it?”
The student stood up, filled both glasses to
the rims.
“A toast, old sorcerer,” he cried. “A toast!
To a newer, younger wine that will flow out of your glass tubes.
Toast, Uncle Jakob to your new living alraune–your new child!”
He clinked his glass against his uncle’s,
emptied it in a gulp and threw it high against the ceiling where it
shattered. The shards fell soundlessly on the heavy carpet.
He pulled his chair closer.
“Now listen uncle and I will tell you what I
mean. I know you are really impatient with my long
introduction–Don’t think ill of me. It has helped me put my
thoughts in order, to stir them up, to make them comprehensible and
tangible.
Here it is:
You should create a living alraune, Uncle
Jakob, turn this old legend into reality. Who cares if it is
superstition, a ghostly delusion of the Middle Ages or mystic
flim-flam from ancient times?
You, you can make the old lies come true. You
can create it. It can stand there in the light of day tangible for
all the world to see–No stupid professor would be able to deny
it.
Now pay attention, this is what needs to be
done!
The criminal, uncle, you can find easily
enough. I don’t think it matters if he dies on a gallows at a
crossroads. We are a progressive people. Our prisons and Guillotine
are convenient, convenient for you as well. Thanks to your
connections it will be easy to obtain and save the rare seed of the
dead that will bring forth new life.
And Mother Earth?–What is her symbol? What
does she represent? She is fertility, uncle. The earth is the
feminine, the woman. She takes the semen, takes it into her womb,
nourishes it, lets it germinate, grow, bloom and bear fruit. So you
take what is fertile like the earth herself–take a woman.
But Mother Earth is the eternal prostitute,
she serves all. She is the eternal mother, is always for sale, the
prostitute of billions. She refuses her lascivious love to none,
offers herself gladly to anyone that will take her. Everything that
lives has been fertilized in her glorious womb and she has given
birth to it. It has always been this way throughout the ages.
That is why you must use a prostitute Uncle
Jakob. Take the most shameless, the cheekiest one of them all. Take
one that is born to be a whore, not one that is driven to her
profession or one that is seduced into it for money. Oh no, not one
of those. Take one that is already wanton, that learns as she goes,
one whose shame is her greatest pleasure and reason for living. You
must choose her. Only her womb would be like the mother earth’s.
You know how to find her. You are rich–You are no school boy in
these things.
You can pay her a lot of money, purchase her
services for your research. If she is the right one she will reel
with laughter, will press her greasy bosom against you and kiss you
passionately–She will do this because you have offered her
something that no other man has offered her before.
You know better than I what happens then, how
to bring about with humans what you have already done with monkeys
and guinea pigs. Get everything ready, ready for the moment when
the murderer’s bleeding head springs into the basket!”
He jumped up, leaned over the table, looked
across at his uncle with intense forceful eyes. The Privy Councilor
caught his gaze, parried it with a squint like a curved dirty
scimitar parries a
idea, would chide me for being a fool. Or else they would throw me
completely out the door, because I would dare come to them with
such things, such thoughts. Thoughts that they would call immoral
and objectionable. Such ideas that dare trespass on the craft of
the Great Creator and play a trick on all of nature.
You will not laugh at me Uncle Jakob, not
you! You will not laugh at me or throw me out the door. It will
fascinate you the same way it fascinates me. That’s why you are the
only person that can do it!”
“But what then, by all the gods,” cried the
Privy Councilor, “what is it?”
The student stood up, filled both glasses to
the rims.
“A toast, old sorcerer,” he cried. “A toast!
To a newer, younger wine that will flow out of your glass tubes.
Toast, Uncle Jakob to your new living alraune–your new child!”
He clinked his glass against his uncle’s,
emptied it in a gulp and threw it high against the ceiling where it
shattered. The shards fell soundlessly on the heavy carpet.
He pulled his chair closer.
“Now listen uncle and I will tell you what I
mean. I know you are really impatient with my long
introduction–Don’t think ill of me. It has helped me put my
thoughts in order, to stir them up, to make them comprehensible and
tangible.
Here it is:
You should create a living alraune, Uncle
Jakob, turn this old legend into reality. Who cares if it is
superstition, a ghostly delusion of the Middle Ages or mystic
flim-flam from ancient times?
You, you can make the old lies come true. You
can create it. It can stand there in the light of day tangible for
all the world to see–No stupid professor would be able to deny
it.
Now pay attention, this is what needs to be
done!
The criminal, uncle, you can find easily
enough. I don’t think it matters if he dies on a gallows at a
crossroads. We are a progressive people. Our prisons and Guillotine
are convenient, convenient for you as well. Thanks to your
connections it will be easy to obtain and save the rare seed of the
dead that will bring forth new life.
And Mother Earth?–What is her symbol? What
does she represent? She is fertility, uncle. The earth is the
feminine, the woman. She takes the semen, takes it into her womb,
nourishes it, lets it germinate, grow, bloom and bear fruit. So you
take what is fertile like the earth herself–take a woman.
But Mother Earth is the eternal prostitute,
she serves all. She is the eternal mother, is always for sale, the
prostitute of billions. She refuses her lascivious love to none,
offers herself gladly to anyone that will take her. Everything that
lives has been fertilized in her glorious womb and she has given
birth to it. It has always been this way throughout the ages.
That is why you must use a prostitute Uncle
Jakob. Take the most shameless, the cheekiest one of them all. Take
one that is born to be a whore, not one that is driven to her
profession or one that is seduced into it for money. Oh no, not one
of those. Take one that is already wanton, that learns as she goes,
one whose shame is her greatest pleasure and reason for living. You
must choose her. Only her womb would be like the mother earth’s.
You know how to find her. You are rich–You are no school boy in
these things.
You can pay her a lot of money, purchase her
services for your research. If she is the right one she will reel
with laughter, will press her greasy bosom against you and kiss you
passionately–She will do this because you have offered her
something that no other man has offered her before.
You know better than I what happens then, how
to bring about with humans what you have already done with monkeys
and guinea pigs. Get everything ready, ready for the moment when
the murderer’s bleeding head springs into the basket!”
He jumped up, leaned over the table, looked
across at his uncle with intense forceful eyes. The Privy Councilor
caught his gaze, parried it with a squint like a curved dirty
scimitar parries a
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