Phyllis Carol Agins
“Hallelujah"
In Hallelujah, a modern day version of Jonah found me—with an elderly rabbi in the starring role. He has been the hero of his own story, but must accept the end of what came before, letting go of doubts and losses.
Magical realism is a favorite of mine: Gabriel Garcia Marquez, House of the Spirits. I’m not in any way Hispanic. But, maybe the myths of the Hassids form my collective memory; and it’s not such a reach from life in the Pale to Latin America. When I release the internal censor, magic realism arrives, providing a great deal of pleasure and a bit of fun—as if I’ve given myself permission to fanaticize out loud. What if God appeared in the storm-lit sky? What if the whale actually spoke? What if the most important of the dead were waiting in that belly, singing out acceptance after a lifetime of disapproval?
The rabbi quite enjoys his sojourn within the whale, and when he is burped out, he discovers a new world is waiting. A desert island, the possibility of a new congregation, even if they are crabs and fish, and a last moment of true peace. It’s an epiphany by way of storms and whales’ bellies. A moment of total joy, even at the very end of life. Something rather to be wished for—no?
Magical realism is a favorite of mine: Gabriel Garcia Marquez, House of the Spirits. I’m not in any way Hispanic. But, maybe the myths of the Hassids form my collective memory; and it’s not such a reach from life in the Pale to Latin America. When I release the internal censor, magic realism arrives, providing a great deal of pleasure and a bit of fun—as if I’ve given myself permission to fanaticize out loud. What if God appeared in the storm-lit sky? What if the whale actually spoke? What if the most important of the dead were waiting in that belly, singing out acceptance after a lifetime of disapproval?
The rabbi quite enjoys his sojourn within the whale, and when he is burped out, he discovers a new world is waiting. A desert island, the possibility of a new congregation, even if they are crabs and fish, and a last moment of true peace. It’s an epiphany by way of storms and whales’ bellies. A moment of total joy, even at the very end of life. Something rather to be wished for—no?
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- - - Temenos Spring 2017: Coyote Dreams "Hallelujah," page 8 |
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