Recognising Change
When you see something. What do you see. How do you know what colours there are, how do you describe them. Images around us hold characteristics that are shared with other objects and words.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/sn/prehistoric_life/human/human_evolution/ 
The extract from the copied page on the right is from'Urecounted'. A book of W.G Sebald's writings and Jan Peter Tripps etchings that demonstrate time passing and memory. It reads as;
What I seeis human beings forI see creatureslike treessave thatthey walk about*If metamorphosis can be classed as a biological change then surely this also includes the way life evolves.The changing states of a physical being.The definition itself suggests that metamorphosis is part of some magical process which I think leads nicely into my adapted version of W.W. Jacobs 'Monkey's Paw'To read the story please click on 'comment' below.
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Monkey’s Paw.
The hot sun hit the roves of battered old novas and BMW’s in the car park. White prismatic beams invaded the laboratory windows.
From his cage a small rat peered between the railings. His own stench of urine and dried faeces in the corner of his prison became stronger with the ticking of the hands of the clock reaching for midday. The drugs from the previous evening permitted him to stay conscious and small quakes of coldness like frozen pins would intermittently prickle the bald patch on his back. His feet so tired, and head hazy; he could do nothing but watch the dumpy experimentalist fiddling with his toys.
Dr. Leathenhall’s glasses caught one of the day rays and he winced blinded by its ferociousness. He dropped the pep pet from which he was adding an accurate amount of morphine to a solution. Small droplets splattered bleaching light dots onto the old wooden table.
The small rat watched as Leathenhall lent down to pick up the narrow plastic dropper, as he came up his unfortunate sense of space led him to lift his head in collision with the old table. In the distance the sound of wood on wood reverberated through the endless room, the heavy crunch reached the cage rolling away in rumbling waves.
Stood on the right side of the room by the window, was Miss Cartwright, the apprentice. She shifted quickly over to where the Doctor was muttering annoyances under his breath. Her left hand still clutched the receipts that she had been riffling through just moments before.
The small rat in states of ecstasy, pain and tiredness saw the doctor and his assistant strive in their passion for science and invention, to a fulfilled life. He saw the regression. How the endless experimentations, dead animals and paperwork now kept them, and threw their egos into a state of flux.
The doctor, his need for rest strong, stared hard at the old cabinet in the only dark corner of the room, hiding behind steel filing draws.
Miss Cartwright had often wandered about the cabinet. When stood next to it one would feel like it was transported from another world. Stooping over something so ordinary but made for someone of a smaller perhaps infant size. Its decoration was clumsily ornate, seemingly carved preciously by early man.
Troubled, the doctor rubbed his temples and removed his rimless glasses. He paced heavily over to the cabinet. He crouched … he rubbed his temples some more … he got up … glanced around the room . . . went to walk away and then turned back around again, and with a clumsy shaky hand, ferreted for the keys in his right pocket. Bringing them out, he clasped a small rusty one and shoved it into the lock.
The Doctor light headed with nerves and a sense of nausea in his stomach, threw an arm across the same wooden table he had been mixing on, at the same time almost slamming what he had been holding so tightly in his left hand.
Leaning over the object that had been taken from its hiding place in the odd cabinet, Miss Cartwright scrutinized with a twisted mouth and a wrinkled nose.
‘A monkey’s paw?’ Miss Cartwright queried.
‘Yes’
‘Dear God, it looks mummified!’
‘That’s because it is, and cursed.’
The paw brought the smell of rotten fruit, only to be noticed by the rat. Unbearable but hypnotic in its revolting sweetness, the white creature reached it nose further out.
‘It is said that my Great Uncle Herbert died tragically because of this paw. One Sergeant Morris handed it to his father. He warned them about the spells put on it by an Old Fakir. But they ignored him and went ahead.’
Miss Cartwright frowned even more. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’
‘The paw entitles three men to each have three wishes granted. My Great Great Grandfather took them. I was never told the complete tale, however when I was thirteen, my Aunt White told me to look after it. My Great Grandfather was the last of the three men and she said that only good could become of the paw now. It’s been kept it in that cabinet since 1902.’
Years of dissecting animals and medical history told Miss Cartwright that these were tales told by eccentric relations; however she had the funniest feeling as she reached out to touch it. A minute cold shudder ran through her bones and there was a developing dampness under her arms. Slightly confused and intrigued by the Doctors sudden revelation, she asked ‘You say it can only be good now?’
‘I hope so. I want to find out. Day after day, we work while this piece of so called magic lay dormant. It may do wondrous things. What a phenomenon, the equipment we could get for the lab and the experimentations we could perform!’
‘And what if it still holds the curse?’
Little rat watched them both holding each others gaze, until the doctor broke the silence.
‘There’s only one way to find out. How much do we need for a new operating table?’
‘Five hundred pounds’
Doctor Leathenhall picked up the Monkey’s Paw from the table, folded it in the palm of his right hand and held it like pledging an allegiance, eyes tightly closed, almost squeezed seemingly in pain, he uttered the words ‘I wish for five hundred pounds’.
The doctor grimaced on feeling the ugly relic twist in his hand.
Miss Cartwright picked up the paw from the floor where her mentor had just launched it. She looked at him carefully, he was nursing his hand.
*
Three O’clock the next day. Roy the delivery man for the dispatch unit knocked loudly three times on the big steel door of the laboratory.
It creaked open and a wide smiled Miss Cartwright appeared.
‘Special delivery.’ Roy announced
‘Ooh, really. Come in.’
‘Ill just fetch it, would you be a darling and hold the door open for me.’
‘Sure.’
The little rat woke from his slumber bleary eyed after a restless night. Shaking the detritus dust from his small body he made his way over to his peering spot. He wished he hadn’t. A breeze made its way through the parted door along with Roy and the massive cage he was carrying covered by an old brown sheet. By this time the Doctor had joined Miss Cartwright by the door. They stood next to each other eyeing Roy and the cage suspiciously.
The breeze brought with it a feeling of acid against little rats whiskers.
‘It’s a right five ‘undred pounder is this one, hahaha’ Roy cackled. ‘Got ‘im in yesterday. Turned up out of the blue. Thought he could come in ‘andy ‘ere.’
The doctor felt his throat tighten.
‘Sorry?’ miss Cartwright asked ‘How do you mean a right five hundred pounder?,’ excitement creeping through her, and then dread as Roy whipped of the stained sheet from the cage.
Inside sat a Monkey.
Of course, she thought. A Monkey, slang for five hundred pounds. The Doctors wish had come true, but not in the way they had wanted. She looked at the Monkey with disappointment. Its eyes were closed and it could have been dead.
She did not see what the Doctor saw.
‘Well then, I’ll be off, don’t worry about the paperwork, this one’s a bit of an odden. Enjoy’ and with that Roy exited the room.
Silence. All the animals in their cages moved closer, wide eyed, curiously looking at the Doctor, Miss Cartwright, and the Monkey which sat cross legged and slumped like a rag doll.
Miss Cartwright looked at her audience baffled by this sudden show of strange animal behavior and was taken aback by the intruding red eyes of the little white rat in the corner. He looked so humble.
How strange.
She was about to point this out to Dr Leathenhall but on turning to talk to him, noticed how white he had gone. He looked at her his face filled with terror. He went to speak but no words came out and all he could do to warn her was to point, when she followed the direction of his gesture her eyes arrived at the Monkeys left arm and on tracing the length down found that her gaze arrived at its wrist and a stump where once was attached a paw.
Her jaw dropped, the Monkeys eye lids violently opened revealing empty sockets.
Clutching his right palm, the doctor seemed penetrated by poison as he collapsed to the floor.
The Monkey grabbed Miss Cartwright by the neck and throttled her until it snapped. Letting go of her limp body the Monkey felt around on the wooden table for her own paw. How she wished the Old Fakir had never found her. How she wished he would have left her eyes so that she could have seen her children grow. But most of all, as she gripped her own shriveled paw in her lively hand, she wished that she could be whole again.
The little rat watched as a whirl of black particles moved around the new arrival encircling her. He felt for her. There was so much sadness in her presence, so much anger. For a moment she was complete. A beautiful young animal again. But she had forgotten about time and now a completely cursed being, unable to wish again, she collapsed and disappeared.
i enjoyed the story. Nice to set the supernatural in a scientific environment. That was one pissed off monkey!
Amy
A slightly related fact on the subject of experiments; in the olden days alchemists would distill eggs with alcohol and water in an attempt to ascertain the nature of the 'spirit'. They instead removed everything but the alcohol and thus we have the modern term 'spirit' for vodka and alike.
Tim, this sounds a bit silly but why would they think that there are spirits in eggs? Presumably, an egg being a birth carrier holds some special kind of symbol or becomes a kind of sacred object (not the right way to describe an egg I know)? How do you mean distill them. I shall have to read about this a bit more i think. Thank you. It's very interesting. What did they do with the left over alcohol - drink it? Would explain why they're trying to look for spirits in eggs.
... have just noticed connection between ALCHemists and ALCHol.
back to painting - do you remember that book mentioned in by Camila - "What painting is" - it compares painting to alchemy - both forms of metamorphosis as well. Its a fascinating book, I really recommend it. x
Thnak you! Yeah I do remember it being mentioned and also I think it's on the reading list. It definately sounds very interesting. I shall have a ponder through it. I suppose the whole process of making paint, mixing it to get colours, transparencies and thicknesses is quite alchemestic in a way. Its quite laborious and methodical in its measurements and application. And sometimes the things that come out of it can be quite bizarre!
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