that I began, with my circles on paper.”
He turned and took her right hand in his. After all these days of polite distance there was something faintly erotic in the act and Patty felt her cheeks flush.
“I am not what I seem,” Mr. Tullis said. “Then again, what is?”
He smiled sadly, then took a small leather bound book from his pocket. He opened it and showed her an illuminated diagram done in red, black and gold in a precision worthy of Durer.
It was titled MALAGMA , and showed a fiery red serpent eating the world which was depicted as a shining golden disc.
“Strictly speaking,” Mr. Tullis said, “this isn’t part of the process at all, rather, this is a symbolic representation of the whole. Malagma is Latin, meaning Amalgamation. The whole process, the quest if you like, is to amalgamate the soul, the microcosm , with the universe, the macrocosm .”
“Sorry,” Patty said, trying a smile. “You’ve lost me already.”
Mr. Tullis laughed. “I thought I might. Fourteenth century symbolism was obscure even then.”
He thought about it for a short while. “Do you know anything about Zen?”
It was her turn to laugh.
“Only from re-runs of Kung Fu.”
“Well, grasshopper,” Mr Tullis said. “Everything is one, and one is everything.”
“ I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together?” Patty said.
“Yes,” he replied. “We are the egg men. All together in one huge womb that is the universe, the macrocosm. Alchemists were convinced that mercury transcended both states, both above and below, both life and death. It came to symbolize the transformation required to reach illumination and eternal life.”
“Illumination?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Mr. Tullis said, smiling. “I just wanted you to get some idea what we’re getting into.”
He stared out at the windmills. “You know, I haven’t been happy for a long time. When I began, I truly thought that this was what I wanted. But I have seen everything I love wither and die. No matter how many platitudes I use to console myself, no matter how cosmic the thought that my molecules might see the death of the sun, I am lonely. I have been lonely for so long. But seeing these circles being drawn in the sky gives me hope.” He turned the page.
CALX was the heading. The pictures showed a young man, bound to a burning wheel by hands and feet in a figure X. He was smiling.
“You see? More circles. Calx is latin for Lime,” Mr. Tullis said. “In this case, it means, calcination , or the process of purifying by heating. If you burn a body hot enough, it goes black, then, if you burn it even hotter, the ash turns white. Similarly, if you heat limestone, you’ll produce a white powder that the Romans called Calx Vita or quicklime . This was considered a magical material, for, if you poured water on it, it gave out heat. Effectively, giving the heat back to the giver.”
“And now I’m lost again,” Patty said.
“This one’s easy,” Mr. Tullis replied. “Look at the picture. Fire purifies. It’s also a code that says, in effect, make quicklime. It will give heat back to the giver. And, beyond that, it symbolizes the fact that the adept must purify his soul before continuing. Wheels within wheels yet again.”
He tapped at the picture.
“This is from Greek mythology. Ixion was punished by Zeus. He tried to seduce Hera , and for his presumption was bound to a perpetual wheel of fire. But Ixion had seen the face of the Goddess, and although in eternal pain, was also eternally happy. Everything can be seen from two angles. Everything has at least two meanings.”
He closed the book. “I burned on a wheel... centuries ago now. You are the first in many years that has even paused to listen. And I know why. You know all about wheels and death... don’t you Patty?”
“Oh, Jenny. I should never have let you play on that bike.” She started to cry, softly at first, then great heaving sobs
He turned and took her right hand in his. After all these days of polite distance there was something faintly erotic in the act and Patty felt her cheeks flush.
“I am not what I seem,” Mr. Tullis said. “Then again, what is?”
He smiled sadly, then took a small leather bound book from his pocket. He opened it and showed her an illuminated diagram done in red, black and gold in a precision worthy of Durer.
It was titled MALAGMA , and showed a fiery red serpent eating the world which was depicted as a shining golden disc.
“Strictly speaking,” Mr. Tullis said, “this isn’t part of the process at all, rather, this is a symbolic representation of the whole. Malagma is Latin, meaning Amalgamation. The whole process, the quest if you like, is to amalgamate the soul, the microcosm , with the universe, the macrocosm .”
“Sorry,” Patty said, trying a smile. “You’ve lost me already.”
Mr. Tullis laughed. “I thought I might. Fourteenth century symbolism was obscure even then.”
He thought about it for a short while. “Do you know anything about Zen?”
It was her turn to laugh.
“Only from re-runs of Kung Fu.”
“Well, grasshopper,” Mr Tullis said. “Everything is one, and one is everything.”
“ I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together?” Patty said.
“Yes,” he replied. “We are the egg men. All together in one huge womb that is the universe, the macrocosm. Alchemists were convinced that mercury transcended both states, both above and below, both life and death. It came to symbolize the transformation required to reach illumination and eternal life.”
“Illumination?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Mr. Tullis said, smiling. “I just wanted you to get some idea what we’re getting into.”
He stared out at the windmills. “You know, I haven’t been happy for a long time. When I began, I truly thought that this was what I wanted. But I have seen everything I love wither and die. No matter how many platitudes I use to console myself, no matter how cosmic the thought that my molecules might see the death of the sun, I am lonely. I have been lonely for so long. But seeing these circles being drawn in the sky gives me hope.” He turned the page.
CALX was the heading. The pictures showed a young man, bound to a burning wheel by hands and feet in a figure X. He was smiling.
“You see? More circles. Calx is latin for Lime,” Mr. Tullis said. “In this case, it means, calcination , or the process of purifying by heating. If you burn a body hot enough, it goes black, then, if you burn it even hotter, the ash turns white. Similarly, if you heat limestone, you’ll produce a white powder that the Romans called Calx Vita or quicklime . This was considered a magical material, for, if you poured water on it, it gave out heat. Effectively, giving the heat back to the giver.”
“And now I’m lost again,” Patty said.
“This one’s easy,” Mr. Tullis replied. “Look at the picture. Fire purifies. It’s also a code that says, in effect, make quicklime. It will give heat back to the giver. And, beyond that, it symbolizes the fact that the adept must purify his soul before continuing. Wheels within wheels yet again.”
He tapped at the picture.
“This is from Greek mythology. Ixion was punished by Zeus. He tried to seduce Hera , and for his presumption was bound to a perpetual wheel of fire. But Ixion had seen the face of the Goddess, and although in eternal pain, was also eternally happy. Everything can be seen from two angles. Everything has at least two meanings.”
He closed the book. “I burned on a wheel... centuries ago now. You are the first in many years that has even paused to listen. And I know why. You know all about wheels and death... don’t you Patty?”
“Oh, Jenny. I should never have let you play on that bike.” She started to cry, softly at first, then great heaving sobs
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