Wednesday, 27 July 2016

Justin Cronin captures the essence of being a creature of the night beautifully:

And because I work nights and I always look to the stars, who are my constant companions, and talk them about their beauty, I can really relate to this;

"On the deck of the Nautilus, Michael was watching the stars. Because a person could never grow tired of them. All his many nights at sea, the stars had been his most loyal companions. He preferred them to the moon, which seemed to him too frank, always begging to be noticed; the stars maintained a certain cagey distance, permitting the mystery of their hidden selves to breathe. Michael knew what the stars were - exploding balls of hydrogen and helium - as well as many of their names and the arrangements they made in the night sky: useful information for a man alone at sea in a small boat. But he also understood that these things were an imposed ordering that the stars themselves possessed no knowledge of.
Their vast display should have made him feel tiny and alone but the effect was exactly the opposite, it was in daylight that he felt his solitude most keenly. There were days when his soul ached with it, the feeling that he had moved so far away form the world of people that he could never go back. But then night would fall, revealing the sky's hidden treasure - the stars, after all, weren't gone during the day, merely obscured - and his loneliness would recede, supplanted by the sense that the universe, for all of its inscrutable vastness, was not a hard, indifferent place in which some things were alive and others not and all that happened was a kind of accident, governed by the cold hand of physical law, but a web of invisible threads in which everything was connected to everything else, including him. It was along these threads that both the questions and the answers to life pulsed like an alternating current, all the pains and regrets but also happiness and even joy and though the source of the current was unknown and always would be, a person could feel it if he gave himself a chance... and the time when he felt it most... was when he was looking at the stars.

Justin Cronin, The City of Mirrors - The Passage trilogy

No comments:

Post a Comment

There's a memory tucked inside of me

Inside of me so deep, Burnt into my retina, When awake & when asleep. It's like a bad smell, That just won't go, It rattle...