Love is lust made meaningful. Hope is hunger made human
- AJENCIS, THE THIRD ANALYTIC OF MEN
How does one learn innocence? How does one teach ignorance? For to be them is to know them not. And yet they are the immovable point from the compass of life swings, the measure of all crime and compassion, the rule of all wisdom and folly. They are the Absolute
- ANONYMOUS, THE IMPROMPTA
Love is lust made meaningful. Hope is hunger made humanThe difference between humanity and the Consult?
How does one learn innocence? How does one teach ignorance? For to be them is to know them not. And yet they are the immovable point from the compass of life swings, the measure of all crime and compassion, the rule of all wisdom and folly. They are the AbsoluteTells us specifically what the Absolute is, and implies it cannot be taught. It suggests that any search for knowledge/ intellectual approach to the world/ salvation is inevitably going to fail - Dunyain.
...Soon, Achamian realised from time to time, he would have nothing left to give Kellhus - save the Gnosis.- and Esmenet!
Which he could not give, of course. But he found it hard to resist wondering what Kellhus with his godlike intellect would make of it. Thankfully, the Gnosis was a language for which the Prince possessed no tongue.
"The man's a thick-skinned lout," Achamian said crossly. "Mockery is a gift between friends. A gift.This reminds Akka of his father. Interesting that Kellhus is now described as 'the Prince'.
The Prince whirled. "Is it?" he cred. "Or is it an excuse?"
...Backbiting, petty jealousies, resentments, arguments, and third-party arbitrations simply belonged to the market of men.
But with Kellhus, it was different. Somehow he managed to browse the market without opening his purse. Almost from the beginning they'd recognised him as the Judge - including Xinemus, who was the titular head of their fire. No doubt there was an uncertainty about him, a capriciousness appropriate to his brilliance, but these were simply departures from a profound and immovable centre. Intelligence, as penetrating as any in near or far antiquity. Compassion, as broad as Inrau's and yet somehow far deeper - a benevolence born of understanding rather than forgiveness, as though he could see through the delinquent rush of thought and passion to the still point of innocence within each soul. And words! Analogies that seized reality and burned it from the inside out...
He possessed, Achamian sometimes thought, what the poet Protathis claimed all men should strive for: the hand of Triamis, the intellect of Ajencis, and the heart of Sejenus.
And others thought this as well.
...And somehow the Schoolman simply knew these people wouldn't go away.
I'm no different, he thought, feeling the perplexing twinge of insights into things already known. I simply sit closer to the fire...
Their reasons were his reasons. He knew this.
There grounds were inchoate and innumerable: grief, temptation, remorse, confusion. They watched out of weariness, out of clandestine hope and fear, out of fascination and delight. But more than anything, they watched out of necessity.
They watched because they knew something was about to happen.
"...And then we suffer, for we feel the ache for the blessed, the sting of the cursed. We no longer see, we witness" ...
..."When we witness, we testify, and when we testify we make ourselves responsible for what we see. And that - that - is what it means to belong"...
"...This world owns you. You belong, whether you want to or not. Why do we suffer? Why do the wretched take their own lives? Because the world, no matter how cursed, owns us. Because we belong.
..."How long has it been since you've contacted Atyersus? Weeks? Months?"
"What is it with -"
"You're waiting, Akka. You're waiting to see what he becomes."
"Kellhus?"
"She turned her face away, lowered her ear to his heart. "He's a prophet."
It was strange to be known - truly known. To be awaited rather than anticipated. To be accepted instead of believed. To be half another's elaborate habits. To see oneself continually foreshadowed in another's eyes.
And it was strange to know...
...Details. Simple enough in isolation, but terrifying and mysterious in their sum. A mystery that he knew...
Was that not love? To know, to trust a mystery...
"...What could the outrage of a soft-skinned concubine mean to a man such as him? Just one more thing to be broken. She knew the futility, that the animal within would grovel, shriek, would place soothing lips around any man's cock for a moment of mercy - that it would do anything, sate any hunger, to survive. She'd been enlightened.
Submission. Truth lay in submission.
... something moved from within...Interesting choice of words.
...Serwe understood it was a soul, a self-moving soul...
Mercy... At last mercy...
Quote...Backbiting, petty jealousies, resentments, arguments, and third-party arbitrations simply belonged to the market of men.
But with Kellhus, it was different. Somehow he managed to browse the market without opening his purse. Almost from the beginning they'd recognised him as the Judge - including Xinemus, who was the titular head of their fire. No doubt there was an uncertainty about him, a capriciousness appropriate to his brilliance, but these were simply departures from a profound and immovable centre. Intelligence, as penetrating as any in near or far antiquity. Compassion, as broad as Inrau's and yet somehow far deeper - a benevolence born of understanding rather than forgiveness, as though he could see through the delinquent rush of thought and passion to the still point of innocence within each soul. And words! Analogies that seized reality and burned it from the inside out...
He possessed, Achamian sometimes thought, what the poet Protathis claimed all men should strive for: the hand of Triamis, the intellect of Ajencis, and the heart of Sejenus.
And others thought this as well.
Kellhus give sermons - the Imprompta (see epigraph!). He talks about Leweth. Akka writes downs his words. Proyas and Martemus are there.
Kellhus tells Akka he can see the Mark. Akka wants him to prove it. Serwe remembers sleeping with Akka, but seems to thin it was Kellhus - the Gods move as men.
Akka gets his Wathi Doll out. It has a soul trapped in it. With the right words one of the few can awaken the doll.
Kellhus of course wakes the doll.Quote... something moved from within...Interesting choice of words.
...Serwe understood it was a soul, a self-moving soul...
How does one learn innocence? How does one teach ignorance? For to be them is to know them not. And yet they are the immovable point from the compass of life swings, the measure of all crime and compassion, the rule of all wisdom and folly. They are the Absolute
- ANONYMOUS, THE IMPROMPTA
the Imprompta are Kellhus' sermons, should we take them at face value?
Is there a point where Kellhus' fake compassion becomes indistinguishable from the real thing? If he is playing on people's real emotions, and providing meaning, purpose and definition to lives, are the results genuine, irrespective of the motive?
Does Kellhus actually believe he is a prophet?
Kellhus describes the difference between seeing and witnessing.Quote"...And then we suffer, for we feel the ache for the blessed, the sting of the cursed. We no longer see, we witness" ...
..."When we witness, we testify, and when we testify we make ourselves responsible for what we see. And that - that - is what it means to belong"...
"...This world owns you. You belong, whether you want to or not. Why do we suffer? Why do the wretched take their own lives? Because the world, no matter how cursed, owns us. Because we belong.
TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE. Are people supposed to witness and testify the No-God?