By: Jenny Hollowell
First there was god, or gods, or nothing. Then synthesis, space, the expansion, explosions, implosions, particles, objects, combustion, and fusion. Out of the chaos came order, stars were born and shown and died. Planets rolled across their galaxies on invisible ellipses and the elements combined and became.
Life evolved or was created. Cells trembled, and divided, and gasped and found dry land. Soon they grew legs, and fins, and hands, and antenna, and mouths, and ears, and wings, and eyes. Eyes that opened wide to take all of it in, the creeping, growing, soaring, swimming, crawling, stampeding universe.
Eyes opened and closed and opened again, we called it blinking. Above us shown a star that we called the sun. And we called the ground the earth. So we named everything including ourselves. We were man and woman and when we got lonely we figured out a way to make more of us. We called it sex, and most people enjoyed it. We fell in love. We talked about god and banged stones together, made sparks and called them fire, we got warmer and the food got better.
We got married, we had some children, they cried, and crawled, and grew. One dissected flowers, sometimes eating the petals. Another liked to chase squirrels. We fought wars over money, and honor, and women. We starved ourselves, we hired prostitutes, we purified our water. We compromised, decorated, and became esoteric. One of us stopped breathing and turned blue. Then others. First we covered them with leaves and then we buried them in the ground. We remembered them. We forgot them. We aged.
Our buildings kept getting taller. We hired lawyers and formed councils and left paper trails, we negotiated, we admitted, we got sick, and searched for cures. We invented lipstick, vaccines, pilates, solar panels, interventions, table manners, firearms, window treatments, therapy, birth control, tailgating, status symbols, palimony, sportsmanship, focus groups, zoloft, sunscreen, landscaping, cessnas, fortune cookies, chemotherapy, convenience foods, and computers. We angered militants, and our mothers.
You were born. You learned to walk, and went to school, and played sports, and lost your virginity, and got into a decent college, and majored in psychology, and went to rock shows, and became political, and got drunk, and changed your major to marketing, and wore turtleneck sweaters, and read novels, and volunteered, and went to movies, and developed a taste for blue cheese dressing.
I met you through friends, and didn’t like you at first. The feeling was mutual, but we got used to each other. We had sex for the first time behind an art gallery, standing up and slightly drunk. You held my face in your hands and said that I was beautiful. And you were too. Tall with a streetlight behind you. We went back to your place and listened to the White Album. We ordered in. We fought and made up and got good jobs and got married and bought an apartment and worked out and ate more and talked less. I got depressed. You ignored me. I was sick of you. You drank too much and got careless with money. I slept with my boss. We went into counseling and got a dog. I bought a book of sex positions and we tried the least degrading one, the wheelbarrow. You took flight lessons and subscribed to Rolling Stone. I learned Spanish and started gardening.
We had some children who more or less disappointed us but it might have been our fault. You were too indulgent and I was too critical. We loved them anyway. One of them died before we did, stabbed on the subway. We grieved. We moved. We adopted a cat. The world seemed uncertain, we lived beyond our means. I got judgmental and belligerent, you got confused and easily tired. You ignored me, I was sick of you. We forgave. We remembered. We made cocktails. We got tender. There was that time on the porch when you said, can you believe it?
This was near the end and your hands were trembling. I think you were talking about everything, including us. Did you want me to say it? So it would not be lost? It was too much for me to think about. I could not go back to the beginning. I said, not really. And we watched the sun go down. A dog kept barking in the distance, and you were tired but you smiled and you said, hear that? It’s rough, rough. And we laughed. You were like that.
Now, your question is my project and our house is full of clues. I’m reading old letters and turning over rocks. I burry my face in your sweaters. I study a photograph taken at the beach, the sun in our eyes, and the water behind us. It’s a victory to remember the forgotten picnic basket and your striped beach blanket. It’s a victory to remember how the jellyfish stung you and you ran screaming from the water. It’s a victory to remember treating the wound with meat tenderizer, and you saying, I made it better. I will tell you this, standing on our hill this morning I looked at the land we chose for ourselves, I saw a few green patches, and our sweet little shed, that same dog was barking, a storm was moving in. I did not think of heaven, but I saw that the clouds were beautiful and I watched them cover the sun.
Life evolved or was created. Cells trembled, and divided, and gasped and found dry land. Soon they grew legs, and fins, and hands, and antenna, and mouths, and ears, and wings, and eyes. Eyes that opened wide to take all of it in, the creeping, growing, soaring, swimming, crawling, stampeding universe.
Eyes opened and closed and opened again, we called it blinking. Above us shown a star that we called the sun. And we called the ground the earth. So we named everything including ourselves. We were man and woman and when we got lonely we figured out a way to make more of us. We called it sex, and most people enjoyed it. We fell in love. We talked about god and banged stones together, made sparks and called them fire, we got warmer and the food got better.
We got married, we had some children, they cried, and crawled, and grew. One dissected flowers, sometimes eating the petals. Another liked to chase squirrels. We fought wars over money, and honor, and women. We starved ourselves, we hired prostitutes, we purified our water. We compromised, decorated, and became esoteric. One of us stopped breathing and turned blue. Then others. First we covered them with leaves and then we buried them in the ground. We remembered them. We forgot them. We aged.
Our buildings kept getting taller. We hired lawyers and formed councils and left paper trails, we negotiated, we admitted, we got sick, and searched for cures. We invented lipstick, vaccines, pilates, solar panels, interventions, table manners, firearms, window treatments, therapy, birth control, tailgating, status symbols, palimony, sportsmanship, focus groups, zoloft, sunscreen, landscaping, cessnas, fortune cookies, chemotherapy, convenience foods, and computers. We angered militants, and our mothers.
You were born. You learned to walk, and went to school, and played sports, and lost your virginity, and got into a decent college, and majored in psychology, and went to rock shows, and became political, and got drunk, and changed your major to marketing, and wore turtleneck sweaters, and read novels, and volunteered, and went to movies, and developed a taste for blue cheese dressing.
I met you through friends, and didn’t like you at first. The feeling was mutual, but we got used to each other. We had sex for the first time behind an art gallery, standing up and slightly drunk. You held my face in your hands and said that I was beautiful. And you were too. Tall with a streetlight behind you. We went back to your place and listened to the White Album. We ordered in. We fought and made up and got good jobs and got married and bought an apartment and worked out and ate more and talked less. I got depressed. You ignored me. I was sick of you. You drank too much and got careless with money. I slept with my boss. We went into counseling and got a dog. I bought a book of sex positions and we tried the least degrading one, the wheelbarrow. You took flight lessons and subscribed to Rolling Stone. I learned Spanish and started gardening.
We had some children who more or less disappointed us but it might have been our fault. You were too indulgent and I was too critical. We loved them anyway. One of them died before we did, stabbed on the subway. We grieved. We moved. We adopted a cat. The world seemed uncertain, we lived beyond our means. I got judgmental and belligerent, you got confused and easily tired. You ignored me, I was sick of you. We forgave. We remembered. We made cocktails. We got tender. There was that time on the porch when you said, can you believe it?
This was near the end and your hands were trembling. I think you were talking about everything, including us. Did you want me to say it? So it would not be lost? It was too much for me to think about. I could not go back to the beginning. I said, not really. And we watched the sun go down. A dog kept barking in the distance, and you were tired but you smiled and you said, hear that? It’s rough, rough. And we laughed. You were like that.
Now, your question is my project and our house is full of clues. I’m reading old letters and turning over rocks. I burry my face in your sweaters. I study a photograph taken at the beach, the sun in our eyes, and the water behind us. It’s a victory to remember the forgotten picnic basket and your striped beach blanket. It’s a victory to remember how the jellyfish stung you and you ran screaming from the water. It’s a victory to remember treating the wound with meat tenderizer, and you saying, I made it better. I will tell you this, standing on our hill this morning I looked at the land we chose for ourselves, I saw a few green patches, and our sweet little shed, that same dog was barking, a storm was moving in. I did not think of heaven, but I saw that the clouds were beautiful and I watched them cover the sun.
Перевод:
История обо всем на свете, включая тебя
Вначале был бог или боги, или ничего. Потом был синтез, космическое пространство, расширение вселенной, взрывы и сжатия, частицы, тела, все горело и плавилось. После хаоса наступил порядок, звезды рождались, светили и умирали. Планеты неслись через свои галактики по невидимым эллипсам и элементы соединялись и возникали новые.
Жизнь зародилась или была создана. Клетки вибрировали и делились, и умирали, и так появилась суша. Вскоре они отрастили ноги и ласты, и руки, и антенны, и уши, и крылья, и глаза. Глаза, которые открылись, чтобы увидеть всю эту ползающую, растущую, парящую, пресмыкающуюся, плавающую, топочущую вселенную.
Глаза открылись и закрылись и снова открылись, и мы назвали это "моргание". Над нами светила звезда, которую мы назвали "солнце". А то, что было под нами, мы назвали "земля". Так мы дали имена всему, включая нас самих. Мы сделались"мужчиной" и "женщиной", а когда мы остались наедине, мы сообразили как сделать так, чтобы нас стало больше. Мы назвали это "секс" и большинству людей оно доставляло удовольствие. Мы полюбили. Мы рассуждали о боге и ударили камнем о камень, и получились искры и мы назвали это "огонь". У нас появилось тепло и еда стала куда вкуснее.
Мы поженились, у нас родились дети. Они плакали, и ползали, и росли. Один изучал цветы и иногда ел лепестки. Другому нравилось охотиться на белок. Мы вели войны из-за денег, славы и женщин. Мы голодали, снимали проституток, мы очистили нашу воду. Мы шли на компромисс, украшали и становились эзотериками.
Один из нас перестал дышать и посинел. А потом и другие. Поначалу мы накрывали их листьями, а потом стали закапывать в землю. Мы помнили их. Мы забыли их. Мы состарились.
Наши дома становились все выше. Мы нанимали адвокатов, формировали советы, мы оставляли документальные свидетельства, мы вели торговлю, мы делали признания, мы болели, и мы придумывали лекарства. Мы изобрели губную помаду, вакцины, пилатес, солнечные батареи, вмешательство во внутренние дела, правила поведения за столом, огнестрельное оружие, оконные шторы, терапию, планирование рождаемости, пикники на багажнике, знаки отличия, гражданский брак, увлечение спортом, фокус-группы, антидепрессанты, солнцезащитный крем, ландшафтный дизайн, сессны, печенье с предсказаниями, химиотерапию, полуфабрикаты и компьютеры. Мы злили активистов и наших матерей.
Ты родился. Ты научился ходить и пошел в школу. Ты занимался спортом и лишился девственности, и поступил в престижный колледж и получил специальность психолога. И ты ходил на рок-концерты и стал интересоваться политикой, потом ты сменил психологию на маркетинг, носил водолазки, читал романы, волонтерствовал, и ходил в кино, и развивал вкус при помощи дрессинга с голубыми сырами.
Нас познакомили друзья. Ты мне поначалу совсем не понравился. Это чувство было взаимным, но мы привыкли друг к другу. Впервые мы занимались сексом за арт-галереей, стоя и будучи слегка пьяными. Ты взял мое лицо в руки и сказал, что я красивая. Ты тоже был ничего. Высокий, освещенный уличными фонарями. Потом мы пошли к тебе и слушали Белый альбом. Так все и случилось. У нас появилась хорошая работа, мы купили квартиру и добились успеха, мы ели все больше и разговаривали все реже. У меня началась депрессия. Ты не замечал меня. Ты меня достал. Ты слишком много пил и транжирил деньги, я переспала со своим боссом. Мы ходили к психологу и завели собаку. Я купила книгу о сексуальных позициях, и мы попробовали наименее унизительную из них - "тачку". Ты пошел на курсы пилотов и подписался на Роллинг Стоун. Я учила испанский и начала заниматься садоводством.
У нас были дети, которые более или менее нас разочаровали, но это могла быть и наша вина. Ты был слишком снисходителен, а я чересчур критична. Но мы все равно их любили. Один из них умер, его зарезали в метро. Мы скорбели. Мы переехали. Мы взяли кошку. Жизнь казалась неопределенной, мы жили не по средствам. Я стала осуждающей и агрессивной, ты совершенно запутался и стал быстро уставать. Ты не замечал меня. Ты меня достал. Мы простили. Мы помнили. Мы делали коктейли. Мы стали чуткими. Тогда, на крыльце, ты сказал, ты веришь во все это?
Конец был близок, твои руки дрожали. Я думаю, что ты говорил обо всем на свете, включая нас. Ты это мне хотел сказать? И что мы не должны потерять это? Тогда это было слишком тяжело для меня - думать об этом. Я бы не смогла вернуться к началу. Я сказала, не совсем. И мы смотрели как садится солнце. Собака лаяла вдалеке, и ты устал, но улыбался и сказал, ты слышала это? Это гав, гав. И мы засмеялись. Ты был таким.
А теперь твой вопрос - это мое личное исследование, и наш дом полон подсказок. Я читаю наши старые письма, я ворошу прошлое. Я зарываюсь лицом в твою одежду. Я рассматриваю фотографию, сделанную на пляже, в наших глазах солнце, за нами вода. И я вспоминаю, как мы забыли корзинку для пикника и как ты изрезал пляжное покрывало. И я вспоминаю как тебя ужалила медуза и ты выбежал из воды и кричал. И я вспоминаю, как ты поранился молотком для отбивания мяса, а говорил, что умеешь это делать лучше меня. И все это я собиралась рассказать тебе, стоя этим утром на нашем холме. И я посмотрела на эту землю, которую мы выбрали, и я увидела островки зеленой травы, и наш маленький сарай, и та же собака лаяла, и надвигалась гроза. И я не думала о небесах, я лишь видела красивые облака и смотрела как они закрывают солнце.
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