6 o'clock sun
9
30
3 rd chapter
4 th
2 circumstances
13 years
1000
1 nights
2 versions same epic chapter
Monday
Sound Ideas & GFpaths Notes
Play through Phonograph...?
torrential rains
hung up reciever
discovert
bullet shattered
human voice was very weak
'I must flee'
perfection of silence
shattered trembling
high pitched almost syllabic music
music came from the pavillion
music was Chinese
buzzer
clapped my hands
sparkling music continued
chaotic manuscripts
contradictory drafts
two versions of the same epic chapter
chaos
NOTES FOR MUSIC DEVELOPMENT....
perhaps create 13 tracks (13 years referenced in book)
merge all tracks together
choice, played through phonograph
name tracks referring to book
Sunday
small thought. very small.
development of imagery is happening.
this week collecting images and editing.
next week, working. continuing research.
week after hopefully filming.
the master is going to RIP this to SHREDS. K.O.
Friday
Notes Garden Forking Paths (Imagery Collection Process)
p44
torrential rains
unsuspected light
The first two pages of the document are missing
I hung up the receiver
apartment
arrested or murdered
sunset
the discovery, capture, maybe even the death
locked the door
p45
iron cot
window
familiar roofs
cloud-shaded six 0'clock sun
garden
countless men in the air
earth and the sea
horselike face
now that my throat yearns for the noose
doubtless happy warrior
British artillery park
River Ancre
bird streaked
grey sky
aeroplane
French sky
artillery station
bombs
bullet shattered
My human voice was very weak
ear of the chief
newspapers
I said out loud : I must flee
perfection of silence
vain ostentation
pockets
American watch
nickel chain
square coin
key ring
notebook
apartment
letter
crown
two shillings
few pence
blue pencil
handkerchief
revolver
one bullet
p46
train ride away
spy
Goethe
ancestors who merge within me
yellow man
armies
hands
voice
mirror
downstairs
peaceful street
cab
deserted street
village of Ashgrove
ticket
distant station
nine-thirty
platform
coaches
farmers
woman dressed in mourning, a young boy who was reading with fervour the Annals of Tacitus, a wounded and happy solider
Shattered, trembling
window
p47
duel had already begun
forty minutes
train schedule
jail
dead
cowardly happiness
warriors
brigands
I give them this counsel: The author of an atrocious undertaking out to image that he has already accomplished it,ought to impose upon himself a future as irrevocable as the past.
Thus I proceeded as my eyes of a man already dead
diffusion of the night
middle of fields
Ashgrove
A lamp
Dr Stephen Albert's house
crossroads
left
coin
few stone steps
solitary road
downhill
earth
branches
full moon
The instructions to turn always to the left reminded me that such was a common procedure for discovering the central point of certain labyrinths. I have some understanding of labyrinths : not for nothing am I the great grandson of that Ts'ui Pen who was governor of Yunnan (p48) and who renounced worldly power in order to write a novel that might even more populous than the Hung Lu Meng and the construct
a labyrinth in which all men would become lost.
p48
heterogeneous tasks
lost maze
crest of a mountain
rice fields
water
octagonal kiosks
returning paths
rivers
provinces
kingdoms
I thought of a labyrinth of labyrinths, of one sinuous spreading labyrinth that would encompass the past and the future and in some way involve the stars.
illusory images
world
countryside
moon
slope of the road
A high-pitched, almost syllabic music
shifting in the wind
leaves
fireflies
words
gardens
streams of water
sunsets
rusty gate
iron bars
music came from the pavilion
music was Chinese
bell or a
buzzer
clapped my hands
The sparkling music continued
lantern approached
trees
paper lantern
drum
colour of the moon
light blinded me
door
p49
You do not wish to see the garden?
The garden?
The garden of forking paths.
damp path zigzagged
library
bound in yellow silk
phonograph
bronze phoenix
famille rose vase
shade of blue
craftsmen
potter of Persia
smile
grey eyes
grey beard
priest
sailor
missionary
Sinologist
window
tall circular clock
an hour
astronomy
books
chess player
calligrapher
poet
compose a book and a maze
banquets
thirteen years
died
chaotic manuscripts
fire
Taoist or Buddhist monk
p50
monk
senseless
contradictory drafts
I examined it once : in the third chapter the hero dies, in the fourth he is alive. As for the other undertaking of Ts'ui Pen, his labyrinth . . . '
tall lacquered desk
'An ivory labyrinth ! ' I exclaimed. ' A tiny labyrinth'
'A labyrinth of symbols,' he corrected. 'An invisible labyrinth of time......'
hundred years
Ts'ui must have said once : I am withdrawing to write a book. And another time : I am withdrawing to construct a labyrinth. Every one imagined two works; to no one did it occur that the book and the maze were one and the same thing.
physical labyrinth
the maze
Two circumstances gave me the solution to the problem. One : the curious legend that Ts'ui Pen had planned to create a labyrinth which would be strictly infinite .The other : a fragment of a letter I discovered.
Albert rose
black and gold desk
crimson
pink
minute brush by a man of my blood.
I leaven to the various futures (not to all) my garden of forking paths.
p50-51
'Before unearthing this letter, I had questioned myself about the ways in which a book can be infinite. I could think of nothing other than a cyclical volume, a circular one. A book whose last page was identical with the first, a book which had the possibility of continuing indefinitely....'
p51
story of the Thousand and One Nights
night
contradictory chapters
manuscript
In all fictional works, each time a man is confronted with several alternatives, he chooses one and eliminates the others; in the fiction of the almost inextricable Ts'ui Pen, he chooses - simultaneously all of them. He creates, in this way, diverse futures, diverse times which themselves also proliferate and fork.
door
all possible outcomes occur ; each one is the point of departure for other forkings.
Sometimes, the paths of this labyrinth converge : for example, you arrive at this house, but in one of the possible pasts you are my enemy, in another , my friend.
p52
vivid circle
lamplight
immortal
two versions of the same epic chapter
army marches
desolate mountain
horror of the rocks
shadows
great festival
battle
blood
remote empire
Western isle
violent their swords
dark body
invisible, intangible swarming
manner prefigured
thirteen years
problem of time
He does not use the word that signifies time . How do you explain this voluntary omission?
p53
I proposed several solutions - all inadequate
answer is chess
'The word chess'
'The Garden of Forking Paths is an enormous riddle, or parable, whose theme is time; this recondite to inept metaphors and obvious periphrases, is perhaps the most emphatic way of stressing it.....'
hundreds
chaos
"time"
The explanation is obvious : The Garden of Forking Paths is an incomplete, but not false, image of the universe as Ts'ui Pen conceived it.
infinite series of time, in a growing, dizzying net of divergent, convergent and parallel times. This network of times which approached one another, forked and broke off, or were unaware of one another for centuries, embraces all possibilities of time.
I am a mistake, a ghost
Time forks perpetually towards innumerable futures. In one of them I am your enemy.
p54
swarming sensation
humid garden
house
invisible persons
raised my eyes
nightmare
yellow and black garden
statue
'The future already exists,' I replied, 'but I am your friend. Could I see the letter again?'
rose
standing tall
opened drawer of tall desk
back to me
revolver
lightening stroke
gallows
Berlin
England
mystery
Monday
Garden of Forking Paths
Now to start reading through the text picking imagery to manipulate.
LONG PROCESS.
At least this isn't a full novel!
However I feel I may need to add other essays.....
OH DEAR x
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