application for the Chatelaine Thecla (The Book of the New Sun)
(( Contains spoilers for the entire Book of the New Sun, including the fifth book that follows the tetralogy. They've been out for ages, but if you had plans to read the books soon, you may want to skip Thecla's application.
On vocabulary: The rare and weird words Gene Wolfe uses in writing the Book of the New Sun are actually not of his making. He doesn't make a habit of glossing them in the books, so I haven't glossed them here, but if you are curious, ask me or check out the Lexicon Urthus *g*.))
I was given flesh again, to fight and die.
I had shared Severian's flesh for so long, indwelling within his brain. To see my hands again a woman's hands, to reach with those hands to feel my hair again its former length, to feel my face not the scarred man's visage but my own face, a woman's face, the face of the Chatelaine Thecla ... For this I had no words. It was fortunate I needed no words, then. I needed no tongue though I could feel mine dry in my mouth. I needed only eyes to witness Severian's trial. Only hands to fight on his behalf. Some part of me was certain I would not be subjected to die again.
I was wrong about this, just as I had been wrong in the Matachin Tower. Yet my weakness had always been hope. Lying among the fallen aquastors (my comrades) and sailors (my enemies), feeling my new life trickle away so soon, I anticipated a miracle still.
What happened next I did not know. My death-wound was gone and I was once again whole, which healing must surely be within the Hierogrammates' power. For had they not once already summoned me into fleshly existence from out of Severian's brain, like Meschiane from the rib of Meschia? Only now I was no longer in the Examination Chamber where Severian had been brought for judgement, where I had fought for him. I was in a room smaller by far, made of cold stone. On a table beside me was a sheet of parchment, a quill, and an inkwell. The parchment proved to be a list of questions. I knew I was expected to answer.
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
I gave this question hardly any consideration at all. If it amused the Hierogrammates and their servants to ask the people of Urth what fare they liked at table, so be it. Taking up pen I dashed off an answer I thought sufficient:
A simple vacherin pleases me more than other cheeses. For it does not overwhelm the palate, nor is it wholly lacking in character.
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
This question alarmed me. A drop of ink fell from the pen's nib to make an unseemly blotch -- my hand was shaking, I only then noticed.
I am not the carnifex, I wrote, when I had mastered my hand. Since you have separated me from him so that I answer only for Thecla, who I am alone, you must pose questions of killing to him and not to me.
3. What time is it where you are?
Surely the advent of the New Sun, I wrote, and was (despite myself) proud.
4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.
I laughed at the parchment's impish challenge. But I could hear myself laugh, the sound in my ears not unfamiliar after so long -- I had spoken through Severian before, when he was off his guard, or when startled to sudden presence by some stimulus of memory -- but unexpected. This sound silenced me. More soberly, I wrote:
I would require an enumeration of the Order of the Phoenix. I would then require them to be brought before me
No; I thought better of this. In the House Absolute we would not have been so blunt, not even the Autarch who could best have afforded to be so. Severian's habits had dulled me.
I crossed out the last, abortive sentence and added a new thought, so that now the answer read:
I would require an enumeration of the Order of the Phoenix. I would then require them to be brought before me I would then send my most dutiful ancilla to inquire of their servants: what are the personal habits of each member? What their likes, their dislikes; what their odious personal idiosyncrasies? On the basis of her intelligence I might narrow the list to those most apt to please me, and those few I would seek to view in secret, myself unseen, if it were possible.
To the one I chose at last, if he were of low station, I would send a summons with some fitting douceur. If he were of high station, an encounter would be contrived at the next fete he attended, for I would ensure that I was also in attendance, and that we should be thrown together in the course of the evening. Most charming for this occasion would be a masquerade, I should think
I stopped here, because I did not like to remember the last masquerade to which Severian (and therefore I) had been invited. Decisively I put a period to the last sentence. The answer would end there.
5. If you are pushing to be in:
A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
I was accustomed to waiting for Severian to deal with all matters that were familiar to him and unfamiliar to me. Taverns were such a thing. It took me a moment to remember that I must answer for myself -- more, that I could answer for myself, and that I need not write something macabre or banal. Less pleasantly, upon that realization came the compounded realization that I no longer knew what I would write myself.
Though the answer dissatisfied me in its bareness, I offered: The Well of Orchids.
B. Gryffindor - Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
Mythologies! Ah, here I would be in my element. I had so little to do in my cell but to read, or to have Severian read to me when the masters could spare him from his duties. Many times we would speak of theogony and theology.
In truth Harry is perpetually wed to both Fred and George, for they three like all beings are but facets of the Increate, so are of the same substance and are one entity together, though this knowledge is veiled from them by their own divine will.
This was patent nonsense, which I enjoyed.
C. Ravenclaw - You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Burn it, I wrote, and laid the pen aside for a moment.
D. Hufflepuff - Prove you are not useless.
I am useless, I wrote, if you believe that utility and value are identical. If you so believe, then you should not have given me form again. Yet I have had use to Urth, for without me, there would be no Conciliator. He would be only a journeyman torturer living out his uneventful days in the bowels of the Matachin Tower. He would have been content to live so.
Without the Conciliator, who would bring the New Sun? and without the New Sun, Urth would continue to die its slow death.
6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.
Disbelief chilled me. It was not worthy of the Hierogrammates to demand a bribe. Everything else they had asked, I could excuse as a whim of theirs, or guess at some inscrutable purpose for the asking. This I could not excuse. I was alone, I was dispossessed; what could I give? How could they demand a bribe, they who had made me alone and who had dispossessed me of what remained to me?
It was now that I began truly to suspect my plight. The simplest answer is often the best; and I believed the simplest answer was that the Hierogrammates were not the persons posing these questions to me on the parchment I had been given. This meant I could be anywhere, in the power of anyone.
But there was that stipulation that 'items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe.' Could this be some test of ingenuity? I might have been shortsighted in assuming a material meaning to the concept of bribery here. One felt oneself on such uncertain footing with the Hierodules, let alone the Hierogrammates.
Choosing to hope (my weakness always), I wrote: I will tell you of Urth and its peoples. Is that not why you wished us to come here to Yesod?
Having given so many answers, now I would wait for an answer. There was a stone bench beside me, on which I sat, tucking the folds of my gown around me -- the white gown I had worn when I was taken to the Matachin Tower; was I condemned to wear the same dress throughout all eternity? -- and I folded my hands in my lap like a good and patient pupil.
I have read the [info]hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. T
I have read the [info]hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. T
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. T
One day, marmalade will rule the world. T."
On vocabulary: The rare and weird words Gene Wolfe uses in writing the Book of the New Sun are actually not of his making. He doesn't make a habit of glossing them in the books, so I haven't glossed them here, but if you are curious, ask me or check out the Lexicon Urthus *g*.))
I was given flesh again, to fight and die.
I had shared Severian's flesh for so long, indwelling within his brain. To see my hands again a woman's hands, to reach with those hands to feel my hair again its former length, to feel my face not the scarred man's visage but my own face, a woman's face, the face of the Chatelaine Thecla ... For this I had no words. It was fortunate I needed no words, then. I needed no tongue though I could feel mine dry in my mouth. I needed only eyes to witness Severian's trial. Only hands to fight on his behalf. Some part of me was certain I would not be subjected to die again.
I was wrong about this, just as I had been wrong in the Matachin Tower. Yet my weakness had always been hope. Lying among the fallen aquastors (my comrades) and sailors (my enemies), feeling my new life trickle away so soon, I anticipated a miracle still.
What happened next I did not know. My death-wound was gone and I was once again whole, which healing must surely be within the Hierogrammates' power. For had they not once already summoned me into fleshly existence from out of Severian's brain, like Meschiane from the rib of Meschia? Only now I was no longer in the Examination Chamber where Severian had been brought for judgement, where I had fought for him. I was in a room smaller by far, made of cold stone. On a table beside me was a sheet of parchment, a quill, and an inkwell. The parchment proved to be a list of questions. I knew I was expected to answer.
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
I gave this question hardly any consideration at all. If it amused the Hierogrammates and their servants to ask the people of Urth what fare they liked at table, so be it. Taking up pen I dashed off an answer I thought sufficient:
A simple vacherin pleases me more than other cheeses. For it does not overwhelm the palate, nor is it wholly lacking in character.
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
This question alarmed me. A drop of ink fell from the pen's nib to make an unseemly blotch -- my hand was shaking, I only then noticed.
I am not the carnifex, I wrote, when I had mastered my hand. Since you have separated me from him so that I answer only for Thecla, who I am alone, you must pose questions of killing to him and not to me.
3. What time is it where you are?
Surely the advent of the New Sun, I wrote, and was (despite myself) proud.
4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.
I laughed at the parchment's impish challenge. But I could hear myself laugh, the sound in my ears not unfamiliar after so long -- I had spoken through Severian before, when he was off his guard, or when startled to sudden presence by some stimulus of memory -- but unexpected. This sound silenced me. More soberly, I wrote:
I would require an enumeration of the Order of the Phoenix. I would then require them to be brought before me
No; I thought better of this. In the House Absolute we would not have been so blunt, not even the Autarch who could best have afforded to be so. Severian's habits had dulled me.
I crossed out the last, abortive sentence and added a new thought, so that now the answer read:
I would require an enumeration of the Order of the Phoenix. I would then require them to be brought before me I would then send my most dutiful ancilla to inquire of their servants: what are the personal habits of each member? What their likes, their dislikes; what their odious personal idiosyncrasies? On the basis of her intelligence I might narrow the list to those most apt to please me, and those few I would seek to view in secret, myself unseen, if it were possible.
To the one I chose at last, if he were of low station, I would send a summons with some fitting douceur. If he were of high station, an encounter would be contrived at the next fete he attended, for I would ensure that I was also in attendance, and that we should be thrown together in the course of the evening. Most charming for this occasion would be a masquerade, I should think
I stopped here, because I did not like to remember the last masquerade to which Severian (and therefore I) had been invited. Decisively I put a period to the last sentence. The answer would end there.
5. If you are pushing to be in:
A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
I was accustomed to waiting for Severian to deal with all matters that were familiar to him and unfamiliar to me. Taverns were such a thing. It took me a moment to remember that I must answer for myself -- more, that I could answer for myself, and that I need not write something macabre or banal. Less pleasantly, upon that realization came the compounded realization that I no longer knew what I would write myself.
Though the answer dissatisfied me in its bareness, I offered: The Well of Orchids.
B. Gryffindor - Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
Mythologies! Ah, here I would be in my element. I had so little to do in my cell but to read, or to have Severian read to me when the masters could spare him from his duties. Many times we would speak of theogony and theology.
In truth Harry is perpetually wed to both Fred and George, for they three like all beings are but facets of the Increate, so are of the same substance and are one entity together, though this knowledge is veiled from them by their own divine will.
This was patent nonsense, which I enjoyed.
C. Ravenclaw - You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Burn it, I wrote, and laid the pen aside for a moment.
D. Hufflepuff - Prove you are not useless.
I am useless, I wrote, if you believe that utility and value are identical. If you so believe, then you should not have given me form again. Yet I have had use to Urth, for without me, there would be no Conciliator. He would be only a journeyman torturer living out his uneventful days in the bowels of the Matachin Tower. He would have been content to live so.
Without the Conciliator, who would bring the New Sun? and without the New Sun, Urth would continue to die its slow death.
6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.
Disbelief chilled me. It was not worthy of the Hierogrammates to demand a bribe. Everything else they had asked, I could excuse as a whim of theirs, or guess at some inscrutable purpose for the asking. This I could not excuse. I was alone, I was dispossessed; what could I give? How could they demand a bribe, they who had made me alone and who had dispossessed me of what remained to me?
It was now that I began truly to suspect my plight. The simplest answer is often the best; and I believed the simplest answer was that the Hierogrammates were not the persons posing these questions to me on the parchment I had been given. This meant I could be anywhere, in the power of anyone.
But there was that stipulation that 'items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe.' Could this be some test of ingenuity? I might have been shortsighted in assuming a material meaning to the concept of bribery here. One felt oneself on such uncertain footing with the Hierodules, let alone the Hierogrammates.
Choosing to hope (my weakness always), I wrote: I will tell you of Urth and its peoples. Is that not why you wished us to come here to Yesod?
Having given so many answers, now I would wait for an answer. There was a stone bench beside me, on which I sat, tucking the folds of my gown around me -- the white gown I had worn when I was taken to the Matachin Tower; was I condemned to wear the same dress throughout all eternity? -- and I folded my hands in my lap like a good and patient pupil.
I have read the [info]hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. T
I have read the [info]hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. T
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. T
One day, marmalade will rule the world. T."