The fathers voice is an instrument of the most terrible pertinaciousness.
(11) Hiram or Saul
He is fatigued. We are fatigued. We can pay.
Shall we answer? Julie asked.
I heard there were strangers. We dont often get strangers. I wanted to give it to you.
Adeo
He unwrapped the cheesecloth from the cactus.
FOR SONS
Peter had a frayed tattered disintegrating volume with showers of ratsnest falling out of it clutched to his chest.
Let him in, Thomas said.
(22) Death of
(2) Fathers as teachers
(13) Dandling
Tremble of happiness running through Edmund from top to bottom (visible).
Some people know what they are doing, Peter said, and some dont.
Perhaps tunnels in the earth?
Edition of forty, he said, printed originally on pieces of pumpernickel. This is the second edition.
Is it long? Thomas asked, looking at the thin book.
Are you selling us this book?
Adoil
I have to mist the plant, Peter called.
There are also private houses but none large enough or foolish enough to attempt to accommodate your party, said the man. That thing there would scare the children out of their wigs, did they get but a glimpse of it.
Achsah
Edmund presented himself.
How would you like to buy a drink or so for this citizen of this fine community? Thomas asked. You may charge it to me.
He began wrapping wet cheesecloth around the cactus.
The book was titled A Manual for Sons.
(4) The leaping father
You must have studied English.
What a disgusting idea, he said.
Abiou
He didnt ask much, said Thomas.
The Dead Father beamed.
Mad fathers stalk up and down the boulevards, shouting. Avoid them, or embrace them, or tell them your deepest thoughts -- it makes no difference, they have deaf ears. If their dress is covered with sewn-on tin cans and their spittle is like a string of red boiled crayfish running head-to-tail down the front of their tin cans, serious impairment of the left brain is present. If, on the other hand, they are simply barking (no tin cans, spittle held securely in the pouch of the cheek), they have been driven to distraction by the intricacies of living with others. Go up to them, and, stilling their wooden clappers by putting your left hand between the hinged parts, say youre sorry. If the barking ceases, this does not mean that they have heard you, it only means they are experiencing erotic thoughts of abominable luster. Permit them to enjoy these images for a space, and then strike them sharply in the nape with the blade of your tanned right hand. Say youre sorry again. It wont get through to them (because their brains are mush) but in pronouncing the words, your body will assume an attitude that conveys, in every country of the world, sorrow -- this language they can understand. Gently feed them with bits of leftover meat you are carrying in your pockets. First hold the meat in front of their eyes, so that they can see what it is, and then point to their mouths, so that they know that the meat is for them. Mostly, they will open their mouths, at this point. If they do not, throw the meat in between barks. If the meat does not get all the way into the mouth but lands upon (say) the upper lip, hit them again in the neck, this often causes the mouth to pop open and the meat sticking to the upper lip to fall into the mouth. Nothing may work out in the way I have described; in this eventuality, you can do not much for a mad father except listen, for a while, to his babble. If he cries aloud, "Stomp it, emptor!" then you must attempt to figure out the code. If he cries aloud, "The fiends have killed your horse!" note down in your notebook the frequency with which the words "the" and "your" occur in his tirade. If he cries aloud, "The cats in its caｈｔｔp://ｗｗｗ.９9lib.ｎetssock and flitter-te-hee moreso stomp it!" remember that he has already asked you once to "stomp it" and that this must refer to something you are doing. So stomp it.
(20) Yamos
Whos there? called a voice, from outside the door.
Thomas lay back upon the bed.
Doesnt know when its time to hang it up, she said, how old do you think he is?
(10) Fanged, etc.
Julie opened the door.
It is a manual, he said. Might be of some small use to you. On the other hand, might not.
Aba
Are you the author? Julie asked.
The best way to approach a father is from behind. Thus if he chooses to hurl his javelin at you, he will probably miss. For in the act of twisting his body around, and drawing back his hurling arm, and sighting along the shaft, he will give you time to run, to make reservations for a flight to another country. To Rukmini, there are no fathers there. In that country virgin corn gods huddle together under a blanket of ruby chips and flexible cement, through the long wet Rukminian winter, and in some way not known to us produce offspring. The new citizens are greeted with dwarf palms and certificates of worth, are led (or drawn on runnerless sleds) out into the zocalo, the main square of the country, and their augensheinlich parentages recorded upon a great silver bowl, and their fingerprints peeled away, so that nothing can ever be proved. Look! In the walnut paneling of the dining hall, a javelin! The paneling is wounded in a hundred places.
Adlai
I would prefer not to, said the Dead Father.
(12) Color of fathers
We must give you something, Thomas said, what can it be?
His bargaining position is not the best, Julie said. He is a translator.
He is a sacred object, in a sense, Thomas said. No more of your bubblegum. Which way is the flophouse?
After looking at the good one, they chose the bad one.
Edmund, Thomas called.
Where are the streets? asked the Dead Father.
The book, Peter said.
Afkiel
Thomas looked about him. A cactus sat on the dressing table.
Or maybe they squeeze between the houses, making themselves all teensy-weensy and not forgetting to gaze into the windows as they pass.
Adossia
Aeon
Aariel
It was translated from English, he said, into English.
Which three?
He claims one hundred and nine, said Thomas, but he may be stretching it. He may be shrinking it. I dont know.
Three of our people are clones I think.
There was a silence. Peter, the voice said, at length.
Amazing how he holds on to his balls, said Julie, that is a curious thing, I dont understand it.
Do you know what translators are paid?
What do you want, Peter? she called.
Abaddon
Fathers are teachers of the true and not-true, and no father ever knowingly teaches what is not true. In a cloud of unknowing, then, the father proceeds with his instruction. Tough meat should be hammered well between two stones before it is placed on the fire, and should be combed with a haircomb and brushed with a hairbrush before it is placed on the fire. Iron lungs and cyclotrons are also useful for the purpose. On arriving at night, with thirsty cattle, at a well of doubtful character, one deepens the well first with a rifle barrel, then with a pigsticker, then with a pencil, then with a ramrod, then with an ice pick, "bringing the well in" finally with needle and thread. Do not forget to clean your rifle barrel immediately. To find honey, tie a feather or straw to the leg of a bee, throw him into the air, and peer alertly after him as he flies slowly back to the hive. Nails, boiled for three hours, give off a rusty liquid that, when combined with oxtail soup, dries to a flame color, useful for warding off tuberculosis or attracting native women. Do not forget to hug the native wom99lib.neten immediately. To prevent feet from blistering, soap the inside of the stocking with a lather of raw egg and steel wool, which together greatly soften the leather of the foot. Delicate instruments (such as surveying instruments) should be entrusted to a porter who is old and enfeebled; he will totter along most carefully. For a way of making an ass not to bray at night, lash a heavy child to his tail; it appears that when an ass wishes to bray he elevates his tail, and if the tail cannot be elevated, he has not the heart. Savages are easily satisfied with cheap beads in the following colors, dull white, dark blue, and vermilion red -- expensive beads are often spurned by them. Non-savages should be given cheap books in the following colors, dead white, brown, and seaweed -- books praising the sea are much sought after. Satanic operations should not be conducted without first consulting the Bibliothèque Nationale. When Satan at last appears to you, try not to act surprised. Then get down to hard bargaining. If he likes neither the beads nor the books, offer him a cold beer. Then --
(1) Mad fathers
Agason
The author was not credited.
Aaron
(6) Ys
You have it, said Julie. She kissed Peter on the forehead.
Albert
The leaping father is not encountered often, but exists. Two leaping fathers together in a room can cause accidents. The best idea is to chain heavy-duty truck tires to them, one in front, one in back, so that their leaps become pathetic small hops. That is all their lives amount to anyhow, and it is good for them to be able to see, in the mirror, their whole life histories performed, in a sequence perhaps five minutes long, of upward movements which do not, really, get very far, or achieve very much. Without the tires, the leaping father has a nuisance value which may rapidly transform itself into a serious threat. Ambition is the core of this problem (it may even be ambition for you, in which case you are in even greater danger than had been supposed), and the core may be removed by open-liver surgery (the liver being the home of the humours, as we know). I saw a leaping father in the park, he was two feet off the ground and holding a one-foot-in-diameter, brown leather object that he was pushing away from himself -- a sin of some sort, I judged. He was aiming it at a net supported by a steel ring but the net had no bottom, there was no way on earth that the net would retain the sin, even if the father had been able to place the sin safely in the net. The futility of his project saddened me, but this was an appropriate emotion. There is something very sad about all leaping fathers, about leaping itself. I prefer to keep my feet on the ground, in situations where the ground has not been cut out from under me, by the tunneling father. The latter is usually piebald in color, and supremely notable for his nonflogitiousness.
A knock on the chamber door.
Fathers have voices, and each voice has a terribilità of its own. The sound of a fathers voice is various: like film burning, like marble being pulled screaming from the face of a quarry, like the clash of paper clips by night, lime seething in a lime pit, or batsong. The voice of a father can shatter your glasses. Some fathers have tetchy voices, others tetched-in-the-head voices. It is understood that fathers, when not robed in the father-role, may be farmers, heldentenors, tinsmiths, racing drivers, fist-fighters, or salesmen. Most are salesmen. Many fathers did not wish, especially, to be fathers, the thing came upon them, seized them, by accident, or by someone elses careful design, or by simple clumsiness on someones part. Nevertheless this class of father -- the inadvertent -- is often among the most tactful, www.99lib.netlight-handed, and beautiful of fathers. If a father has fathered twelve or twenty-seven times, it is well to give him a curious look -- this father does not loathe himself enough. This father frequently wears a blue wool watch cap, on stormy nights, to remind himself of a manly past -- action in the North Atlantic. Many fathers are blameless in all ways, and these fathers are either sacred relics people are touched with to heal incurable illnesses, or texts to be studied, generation after generation, to determine how this idiosyncrasy may be maximized. Text-fathers are usually bound in blue.
He says youll frighten the children.
It is not long, Peter said, and at the same time, too long.
Happiness of the Dead Father.
It is Planning, said Thomas, a New Town. One must achieve the rim to be killed by auto.
Do we know anyone named Peter?
(23) Patricide a poor idea, and summation
Purely practical. He staggers better with it. We have ends in view.
They began to read the book.
I know no one named Peter.
No, Peter said nobly, I am giving it to you as a gift. It is not worth selling.
The names of fathers. Fathers are named:
Fathers in some countries are like cotton bales; in others, like clay pots or jars; in others, like reading, in a newspaper, a long account of a film you have already seen and liked immensely but do not wish to see again, or read about. Some fathers have triangular eyes. Some fathers, if you ask them for the time of day, spit silver dollars. Some fathers live in old filthy cabins high in the mountains, and make murderous noises deep in their throats when their amazingly sharp ears detect, on the floor of the valley, an alien step. Some fathers piss either perfume or medicinal alcohol, distilled by powerful body processes from what they have been, all day long, drinking. Some fathers have only one arm. Others have an extra arm, in addition to the normal two, hidden inside their coats. On that arms fingers are elaborately wrought golden rings that, when a secret spring is pressed, dispense charity. Some fathers have made themselves over into convincing replicas of beautiful sea animals, and some into convincing replicas of people they hated as children. Some fathers are goats, some are milk, some teach Spanish in cloisters, some are exceptions, some are capable of attacking world economic problems and killing them, but have not yet done so, they are waiting for one last vital piece of data. Some fathers strut but most do not, except inside; some fathers pose on horseback but most do not, except in the eighteenth century; some fathers fall off the horses they mount but most do not; some fathers, after falling off the horse, shoot the horse, but most do not; some fathers fear horses, but most fear, instead, women; some fathers masturbate because they fear women; some fathers sleep with hired women because they fear women who are free; some fathers never sleep at all, but are endlessly awake, staring at their futures, which are behind them.
Son, I got bad news for you. You wont understand the whole purport of it, cause youre only six, a little soft in the head too, that fontanelle never did close properly, I wonder why. But I cant delay it no longer, son, I got to tell you the news. There aint no malice in it, son, I hope you believe me. The thing is, you got to go to school, son, and get socialized. Thats the news. Youre turnin pale, son, I dont blame you. Its a terrible thing, but there it is. Wed socialize you here at home, your mother and I, except that we cant stand to watch it, its that dreadful. And your mother and I who love you and always have and always will are a touch sensitive, son. We dont want to hear your howls and screams. Its going to be miserable, s九*九*藏*书*网on, but you wont hardly feel it. And I know youll do well and wont do anything to make us sad, your mother and I who love you. I know youll do well and wont run away or fall down in fits either. Son, your little face is pitiful. Son, we cant just let you roam the streets like some kind of crazy animal. Son, you got to get your natural impulses curbed. Youve got to get your corners knocked off, son, you got to get realistic. They going to vamp on you at that school, kid. They going to tear up your ass. They going to learn you how to think, youll get your letters there, your letters and your figures, your verbs and all that. Your mother and I could socialize you here at home but it would be too painful for your mother and I who love you. Youre going to meet the stick, son, the stick going to walk up to you and say howdy-do. Youre going to learn about your country at that school, son, oh beautiful for spacious skies. They going to lay just a raft of stuff on you at that school and I caution you not to resist, it aint appreciated. Just take it as it comes and youll be fine, son, just fine. You got to do right, son, you got to be realistic. Theyll be other kids in that school, kid, and ever last one of em will be after your lunch money. But dont give em your lunch money, son, put it in your shoe. If they come up against you tell em the other kids already got it. That way you fool em, you see, son? Whats the matter with you? And watch out for the custodian, son, hes mean. He dont like his job. He wanted to be president of a bank. Hes not. Its made him mean. Watch out for that sap he carries on his hip. Watch out for the teacher, son, shes sour. Watch out for her tongue, itll cut you. Shes got a bad mouth on her, son, dont balk her if you can help it. I got nothin against the schools, kid, they just doin their job. Hey kid whats the matter with you kid? And if this school dont do the job well find one that can. Were right behind you, son, your mother and I who love you. Youll be gettin your sports there, your ball sports and your blood sports and watch out for the coach, hes a disappointed man, some say a sadist but I dont know about that. You got to develop your body, son. If they shove you, shove back. Dont take nothin off nobody. Dont show fear. Lay back and watch the guy next to you, do what he does. Except if hes a damn fool. If hes a damn fool youll know hes a damn fool cause everybodyll be hittin on him. Let me tell you bout that school, son. They do what they do cause I told them to do it. Thats why they do it. They didnt think up those ideas their own selves. I told them to do it. Me and your mother who love you, we told them to do it. Behave yourself, kid! Do right! Youll be fine there, kid, just fine. Whats the matter with you, kid? Dont be that way. I hear the ice-cream man outside, son. You want to go and see the ice-cream man? Go get you an ice cream, son, and make sure you get your sprinkles. Go give the ice-cream man your quarter, son. And hurry back.
Aalbiel
How is it that you gave him back his leg after you had whacked it off?
"Translated from the English by Peter Scatterpatter" was found on the title page.
Adnai
Aban
Him, the citizen said, him cant be brought in without the fixing. I can lend you a Skilsaw. ;
Adityas
Exit of Peter.
(17) Rescue of fathers
Aeshma
TRANSLATED FROM THE ENGLISH
(5) Best way to approach
Well damn and blast, said the citizen, who would imagine otherwise? Yet a rule is a rule.
Youll have to deballock him and wipe your feet on the mat, said the man, whose face contained beardescules at odd points, such as the lips and center of the forehead. Do you need a deballocking knife? Scissors? Razor? Paper cutter? Shard of glass? Letter opener? Fi99lib•netngernail clippers?
He prefers not to, Thomas told the citizen.
I knew a father named Ys who had many many children and sold every one of them to the bone factories. The bone factories will not accept angry or sulking children, therefore Ys was, to his children, the kindest and most amiable father imaginable. He fed them huge amounts of calcium candy and the milk of minks, told them interesting and funny stories, and led them each day in their bone-building exercises. "Tall sons," he said, "are best." Once a year the bone factories sent a little blue van to Yss house.
From what language was it translated?
Then, furiously:
He is talking about you, Emma said to the Dead Father.
The three with the red hair and the limp.
Edmund and the citizen off to the alehouse arm-in-arm.
(18) Sexual organs
Between the good one and the bad one, Julie said, there appears to be little choice.
(19) Names of
Oh no, said Peter. I am the translator.
Who wants to know? Julie shouted.
Does one mist a cactus? Julie asked.
Circulation is not a big thing here, said a stander-by. Why is that man, that one of you, the distinguished-looking one, being dragged? What has he committed? Why are those nineteen puffing and sweating away, on the cable? Why are you three not puffing and sweating away on the cable? I do not understand your table of organization.
An outpost of civilization or human habitation. Dwellings in neat rows back to back to back to back. Children at play on roofs.
You are strangers, Peter said. Your approval would be enough.
(8) Voices of
I understand it, said Thomas.
MANUAL
BY PETER SCATTERPATTER
They lay on their stomachs in the bed, looking at the book.
Abbott
A
Ababaloy
Adam
Wanted to give what to us?
He is a father, said Thomas.
(15) The falling father
(9) Sample voice, A B C
Whos there? the voice called again.
What is the book about?
Yes I did study English.
(3) On horseback, etc.
Sample voice A:
He appears to be a dolt of some kind, Thomas said, sotto voce.
Not my fault, Julie said, as with much else in the world, not my fault.
Julie and Thomas in their room, sitting on the bed. Picture on the wall, Death of Sigismur.
(21) "Responsibility"
There appear to be none, said Julie.
(7) Names of
Agwend
Pennies! Peter proclaimed.
Well there tall thin fellow, said Julie, why are you here?
(16) Lost fathers
Now, Thomas said, lets inspect the accommodations.
(14) A tongue-lashing
Abel
There are two, the citizen said. The good one and the bad one. The bad one has the best girls. The good one has the best paté. The bad one has the best beds. The good one has the best cellar. The bad one has the best periodicals. The good one has the best security. The bad one has the best band. The good one has the best roaches. The bad one has the best martinis. The good one has the best credit cards. The bad one has the best table silver. The good one has the best views. The bad one has the best room service. The good one has the best reputation. The bad one has the best fa?ade. The good one has the best chandelier. The bad one has the best carpet. The good one has the best bathrooms. The bad one has the best bar. The good one has the best Dun & Bradstreet. The bad one has the best portraits. The good one has the best bellmen. The bad one has the best potted plants. The good one has the best ashtrays. The bad one has the best snails. The good one has the best postcards. The bad one has the best breakfast. The good one --
I am justified, Peter said, for the time being. I can struggle on, for the time being. I am reified, for the time being.
Af
Terrible news, said the man, you cant bring him in here.
Abathur
Abdia
So we do, she said, so we do.
Fathers teach much that is of value. Much that is not.