Showing posts with label Monkeys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Monkeys. Show all posts

Friday, July 12, 2024

Hatched by a monkey

My dream about an unpublished red book titled Unhenned has been interpreted by William Wright as being about Israel -- citing Jesus' statements in the Bible and Book of Mormon about gathering Israel "as a hen gathereth her chickens" and Daymon "Doug" Smith's reference to the history of Israel as a book with "red chapters."

This morning I was in my study, and it occurred to me to scan my shelves for red books. The Eustace Diamonds . . . The Seven Sins of Memory . . . The Uninscribed . . . ah, The Circle by David Eggers! The title of the book reinforces the "egg" in his name, and an egg is the sort of thing that might be described as "unhenned" -- that is, without a hen to sit on it and incubate it.

Most of my books are in cabinets with glass doors, but two small shelves are behind opaque doors. I don't usually keep books on those shelves, but today I thought I'd better look inside just in case there were any more red books hiding there. And there, sure enough, I found a bright red three-ring binder containing selections from the Scarlet Notebook, a collection of Tychonievich juvenilia. The full Scarlet Notebook (still so called for historical reasons) is currently in a massive white binder in America somewhere, but I have PDF scans of the whole thing. As soon as I saw the red binder on my shelf, I remembered that among its contents is a little fragment called "Hatched by a Monkey," written by one of my brothers as a child. It didn't make the cut for inclusion in the small red binder in Taiwan, but I looked it up in the PDF. Here it is in its entirety:

Desnor wondered, as he often did, why he had to be the one who was hatched by a monkey! His long, flexible tail still hurt from his last entry into the chicken-house. The other roosters had nearly murdered him, but he had escaped, with the helpy of his two extra lages and usable wings.

The only person who really cared about him was Henry. Tomorrow, they were going to run away. Henry was an orphan birth, trying to survive until he was old enough to get a real job, not just assistant chicken-keeper.

Suddenly, all the chickens started to squawk and run around, flapping their wings and causing a general ruckus. Then Desnor saw the reason: The butcher was coming, equipped with a large axe and a miniature crossbow.

Immediately, Desnor flew down, opened the gate, and flew into the top of a pine tree.

Amongst all the mess of chickens, the butcher dropped his weapons and tried to get all the chickens in the pen at the same time!

Desnor flew down and took the crossbow and quarrels onto the roof, where he stayed.

When the butcher saw this, he yelled, "Chicken's out!" so loud that the shutters rattled.

This lines up with the dream pretty neatly. It's from an unpublished book with a red cover, and it's about a creature that apparently hatched from an "unhenned" chicken egg that was incubated by a monkey.

In the context of William Wright's interpretation -- that "unhenned" refers to the House of Israel, with the absent hen being the rejected Jesus Christ -- the idea of being "hatched by a monkey" made me think of the prophecy that "the kings of the Gentiles shall be nursing fathers unto [Israel], and their queens shall become nursing mothers" (2 Ne. 10:9) -- i.e., that the Gentiles will raise Israel in the absence of the father hen. Gentiles essentially means "barbarians," of which monkeys or apes would be a natural symbol.

Desnor is an anagram of Red Son, which came up in my 2020 post "Robin Hood."

Sunday, June 16, 2024

I, jowly Chim-Chim, ate an Elvis

That's an anagram of my full name, created by one of my fellow missionaries in 1998 or 1999. He explained that Chim-Chim is the name of a chimpanzee character in Speed Racer (which I knew nothing about) and that "an Elvis" must refer to someone of that name other than the King himself -- perhaps Elvis Costello or figure skater Elvis Stojko. It occurs to me now, though, that there is a kind of sandwich called an Elvis -- peanut butter, banana, and bacon, a favorite of Presley's -- and that that reading makes much more sense. Apparently the character Chim-Chim is known for his appetite and his sweet tooth, much like Elvis himself, and of course a banana sandwich is exactly what you would expect a cartoon chimp to eat.

Peanut butter and banana sandwiches (without bacon) were one of my own favorites as a child, part of my Banana Man persona. My other nickname from that time, besides Banana Man, was in fact Elvis, because of my hairstyle. (I insisted, despite my father's objections, on growing out the hair in front of my ears to look like sideburns.) At that time I knew essentially nothing about Elvis except that he was apparently a singer who had sideburns, and I certainly didn't know that Elvis and Banana Man had such similar taste in sandwiches. The weird thing is that the guy who created the anagram knew none of this about me. He was just trying to come up with something tolerably grammatical that used all the letters in my hard-to-anagram name, and he ended up hitting on something related to monkeys, bananas, and Elvis.

If you look at my photo in the sidebar, you might even detect a hint of incipient "jowliness," I suppose. Jowls are drooping cheeks, so what a "jowly" chimp makes me think of is Cheekey the Monkey. This is character from a Mormon parenting book my mom had when I was tiny. At first I couldn't find any trace of him online because I'd been searching for Cheeky without the extra e. (My exposure to the story was well before I had learned to read.) After racking my brain a bit, though, I came up with the title of the book -- Teaching Children Joy (1980) by Linda and Richard Eyre -- and was able to find it online.

Cheekey was a baby monkey. He lived with his sister and his mother and father in a tree. Their tree was in the jungle. In the jungle were some laws. They were called Jungle Laws. Do you know what laws are? (Things that you must do right or else you get punishment.)

Do you know what punishment is? (Something sad that happens when you break a law.)

There were two laws in Cheekey's jungle. One was that whenever you were in a tree, you had to hold on with your hand, or your foot, or your tail. What do you think the punishment was if you broke the law? (You would fall!)

The other jungle law was that if you saw a lion coming, you had to quickly climb up a tree. What do you think the punishment was if you broke that law? (You would get eaten up!)

In Cheekey's own family tree, there were two family laws. One law was that you couldn't go out of the tree without asking. Why do you think they had that law? (So Cheekey wouldn't get lost.)

Why didn't his mother and father want him to get lost? (Because they loved him.)

What do you think the punishment was if Cheekey went out of his tree without asking? (His mother gave him a little swat with her tail right on his bottom.)

Why did his mother do that? (So he wouldn't go out of the tree again.)

Why didn't she want him to do it again? (Because she loved him and didn't want him to get lost.)

The other monkey family law was to never drop your banana peels on limbs of the family tree. Why do you think they had that law? (So no one would slip on them and fall out of the tree.)

Why did the monkey family decide to have a law like that? (Because they loved each other and didn't want anyone in their family to get hurt.)

The story follows Cheekey through his day as he makes various choices, and in each case the children have to say whether there's a law to tell him what to do or whether he's free to do what he likes. I heard the story many times from an extremely young age, and even now I have vivid memories of my mental images of Cheekey climbing a tree to get away from a lion, choosing whether to wear his red hat or his green one, and so on. Not sure what specific relevance it has, but I suppose the sync fairies never bring anything up without a reason.

Coming back to "an Elvis," what's the plural of Elvis? This question comes up sometimes when people have occasion to refer to "parachuting Elvises" and such, and common incorrect suggestions include Elvi and Elvii (which are properly the plurals of Elvus and Elvius, respectively.) By analogy with other singular nouns ending in -is, the correct plural would be Elves -- spelled, though not pronounced, exactly the same as the plural of elf. "An Elvis" is one of the Elves.

This idea of eating an elf made me think of a story one of my brothers wrote as a child. These stories were written to be read aloud at our local literary club, and one of the things my brother liked to do (we were pretty avant-garde for little kids) was include "intermissions" -- where the story would be unexpectedly interrupted by a short poem and then resume where it had left off. In one of these stories, a character says, "It has eaten green moss," and then there's an intermission. After the intermission, the story continues with "the elf" -- revealing that the intermission had come in the middle of a sentence, and that what had been eaten was not green moss but rather an elf named Green Moss.

I still have copies of lots of these old stories, so I looked it up. Here's how it begins:

One upon a time there lived a gnome named Fuloo. Fuloo lived by himself in the Buck Horn Forest.

One night Fuloo was sitting by his fire, making rope, when suddenly he heard what sounded like 900 deer stampeding through the forest. Fuloo poked his head out of his hole to see what was scaring the deer like that. . . . A gigantic griffin was soaring through the forest, gulping down deer left and right.

The grffin thing is totally plagiarized from a very similar scene in The Tinleys, The guy sitting by the fire making rope is also ripped off, from one of my other brother's yarns. But don't worry, it's about to get a lot more original. Here's Fuloo's friend Will summarizing the damage done by the griffin -- interrupted by an intermission -- after which a rather singular character makes his appearance:

"Well," said Will, "it has eaten Green Moss

INTERMISSION: The Snowflake

Small and light, beautiful white is the snowflake falling down. Whirling, twirling on the breeze, it keeps on twirling round and round and then it softly comes falling to the ground.

END OF INTERMISSION

the elf, Romut the gnome, 463 deer, and 47 wolves."

"Wow," said Fuloo. "It must have been hungry."

"Yep," said Will, "it certainly wh--"

Suddenly they were interrupted by Soto the monkey-elf. "What is a monkey-elf?" you're probably asking right now, so I'll tell you: It is a half-monkey, half-elf creature, and unfortunately they didn't get much of the human intelligence, so they were mostly messengers, and this one was doing that, and it had carefully dropped a message right into Will's mouth.

A monkey-elf! I'd forgotten about that, but what led me to look this old story up was the idea of a chimp eating an elf. Recent posts here have featured apes as stars and apes as angels. In Tolkien, Elves are Eldar, literally "Star-folk." The story says that monkey-elves were "mostly messengers" -- which is the literal meaning of the word angel.

Sunday, May 19, 2024

Spaghettified monkey

I’ve just finished M. D. Thalmann’s novella Europa Affair, which is absolutely terrible. It ends on a synchronistically interesting note, though, as the character Peter, who is a genetically enhanced baboon, activates an app called Monkey-B-2, which results in his “spaghettification.” What exactly that means is not really clear, as the writing is so atrocious, but it obviously ties in with William Wright’s monkey named Spaghetti.

Monday, February 13, 2023

Further Journeys

The Journeys book in which I found the story of Dot was one of four books in that series which I found in the same disused room in which I had found the magazine with the red and green doors on the cover. Today I paged through the other three volumes.

One of them has a large blue moon on the cover:


In my February 2 post "No H in Snake," I wrote that that was "the best deadpan surrealist response whenever anyone said 'Remember there's no I in team.'" One of the Journeys books has a story in which that line is repeated again and again.






There may be an i in pizza, but there's still no h in snake.

In the Dot post, I wrote about how the H. G. Wells story "The Door in the Wall" mentions "spotted panthers" behind the Green Door -- an odd expression, since the spotted animals are usually called leopards, panther being reserved for the black variety. Journeys, though, has a picture of a black panther and emphasized that it has spots.


Besides the panthers, three other kinds of animals are mentioned in the garden behind the Green Door: doves, "paroquets" (parakeets), and a capuchin monkey.

Presently, a little Capuchin monkey, very clean, with a fur of ruddy brown and kindly hazel eyes, came down a tree to us and ran beside me, looking up at me and grinning, and presently leapt to my shoulder.

Journeys also has a picture of a capuchin monkey -- identified as such in the text -- on someone's shoulder. Wells writes of a "little Capuchin monkey"; Journeys also emphasizes this species' small size.


(The Capuchin as a variant of the Hermit card is also mentioned in "Temperance, the Hermit, and the hourglass." Capuchins are Franciscan friars; Fra Angelico was a Dominican friar.)

In yesterday's post "Winter, flowers, and the grail," I noted the incongruous appearance of a big silver trophy cup in the music video for the Tori Amos song "Winter":


Journeys has an extremely similar picture:


One of the stories is about a boy named Sam who moves from Texas to New York. He misses Texas, but at the end he feels better about New York when he sees a T. rex skeleton in the museum.


The idea that a T. rex would help a homesick Texan feel better is an indirect link to the mini T. rex theme, since Texas is where the "mini T. rex" cryptid is from. Later, there's another story about a museum, which of course has several pictures of T. rex skeletons -- nothing terribly noteworthy about that. On the last page, though, there's a picture of a plastic T. rex toy -- a mini T. rex -- even though the whole story is about dinosaur skeletons in a museum and there are no toys in the story at all.


Oh, and there's also a picture of an eight-spoked ship's steering wheel, which Debbie will appreciate.

Ace of Hearts

On the A page of Animalia , an Ace of Hearts is near a picture of a running man whom I interpreted as a reference to Arnold Schwarzenegger....