Revelations Chapter Twelve

I think part of the joy in writing is the way the scenes play themselves out inside my mind.  If I can see it, then I can describe it – it could possibly be real.  Another part is the research.  I mentioned this in an earlier blog, and how much fun I find in learning ‘new’ things.  Trivia.  Things I would never normally need.  There is so much that could be learnt.

Now though, it’s time to chat about the next chapter – 12, as we get closer to the end of this, the second book.

The title is Bower – (the modern definition being an area shaded by trees or other plants – an arbor covered with vining flowers, which is not how I use the word) – how I got to think it meant maze, I don’t know.  The internet page that led me down this path eludes me.  (Smile.)

Still.  Bower remains.  A high towering hedge labyrinth.

This chapter like those before it, carry on with George crossing level three and into level four.  I am not going to talk about this, however, because that is the story, but rather point out the ‘aside-like’ comment concerning the loss of the Northern Lights.  You must remember the story is taking place far in the future where electricity is the main source of energy.  The stab at human greed is told through the eyes of a classroom lesson.  George learns about what the Northern Lights were like before their valuable electrons were harvested, and although he remembered seeing them in the film, and how he was impressed, it had not been enough to say it was wrong.  It was only now, within the game, on seeing them happen ‘for real’ that he decides this cannot be true – humanity would not allow something so beautiful to be destroyed.

Of course, we still have the Northern Lights – hopefully for a very long time – but we are taking away other beautiful things, simply because most of us are unaware of them, and so unfortunately do not raise a voice in defense.  The Amazon forest is fashionable at the moment, and all eyes are turned there – and while we are looking and protesting, other lights are going out.  The list of such lights lost are huge:  Animals, countryside, rivers, almost every part of nature is being changed beneath our hands and for our needs.  But this blog is not about saving the planet, but about what inspired me or what I find interesting about certain areas of each chapter.

A second environmental comment, (casually thrown in) is concerning the forest that grows on the edge of level three.  It is a completely unnatural forest – man made – designed for maximum usage of space and profit, and surprisingly, such forests do still exist.  They are not inviting, or charming, filled with varying scents and sounds, but monotone, in sound and shadow.  I have visited one such forest.  It was ‘ugly’.  That is the only way I can describe it.  For me, a forest should ring of life and adventure, this forest ‘echoed’ only – like a graveyard echoes life.

During the 20th century, humanity very clearly experimented with nature, and unfortunately, most of the time got it wrong.  I hope the 21st will be better.

Moving on…

The amount of time George spends in the Bower is kept to a minimum.  The reason being is because of those well-known scenes from Harry Potter.  I did not want to copy this idea.  This might have influenced the title of the chapter too.  I try my very best to keep the story original, as well as my own personal style of writing – by this I don’t mean any new and artistic rhyme or rhythm but simply by footnoting a lot, concerning what I write, and at the same time making small stabs at my own generation.  I once met a young lady who openly insulted and blamed my generation for so much of the ‘wrong’ in the world today.  It is not easy to listen to such, especially when her generation hasn’t had time to make anything let alone mistakes.  Still.  She was partially right.  And it is these mistakes I try to show in my book.  Not in a finger-pointing, your-to-blame fashion, but simply as acknowledgment and hopefully prevent this muster from being adapted to destroy even more of nature.  I don’t want this for any generation.

So to conclude – the ‘aside’ comments, that do not carry the story but add color, are done as part of my writing style and not with any ‘world challenging’ hidden agenda.  I see these mistakes and feel sorry for them.  If my reader sees them too and feels the same way, I have succeeded in a positive way.

I once watched a documentary about people who had survived WWII concentration camps.  At the time I was puzzled why some of them struggled to forgive their captors. 

Why forgive them at all?’  I thought.  But today, slowly, I am beginning to feel I understand their need – of course I never will completely, and can only imagine – and I do not want this to be the subject of the blog – the war crimes of WWII are simply atrocious – but the subject I am referring to is the concept of belief – not religious belief but all kinds: fads, fashion, trends, call it what you might; it is an extremely powerful tool.  It is also a very dangerous and deadly one.  Belief has instigated many terrible things to happen.  It’s easy to condemn with the gift of hindsight, but at the time, blinded by it, lost, and swept along, in an intoxicating faith – yes, perhaps forgiveness is needed.

So and how does this relate to the forest I describe on the edge of level three?  At the time of their design, perhaps the scientists and farmers thought it was the best thing to do.  They believed it was. 

The invention of plastic was the same, it ‘gave some observers an almost utopian vision of a future with abundant material wealth thanks to an inexpensive, safe, sanitary substance that could be shaped by humans to their every whim.’  

https://www.sciencehistory.org/the-history-and-future-of-plastics

By edwardholden

I have been lots of things to many people. Some nice, and some... well not so nice. Now I am older and less worried about what people think of me. My past is colorful, sad and happy. Filled with lots of unique people. I have been blessed in this way. I have walked with people in all walks of life, and I have loved each journey, and each and everyone of them. Now, I write. It is a new road. It is not a highway or a crossroad. It leads me somewhere though, and as I have always spent my life travelling, this suits me fine.

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