“Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima” by Krzysztof Penderecki & National Polish Radio Symphony Orchestra which clocks in at 10:00.

The following is Part 3 of a four part 8+ series based upon songs from the film ‘Children of Men’, the film itself, and the writing of Jorge Luis Borges. Read the first chapter HERE, second chapter HERE.

In the Gnostic cosmogony, the demiurge creates an Adam who cannot stand; he is clumsy, crude and elemental, the Biblical Adam stumbling forward in much the same manner as this Adam of dreams who’d been born of Kee’s sleep. One morning she almost destroyed her entire work, but then changed her mind (an unfortunate occurrence: it would have been better if she had destroyed it). Instead, she threw herself at the feet of an idol, which was perhaps a dragon or maybe a muscular stallion of some sort, and implored its otherworldly aid. Later that evening, at twilight, she again slept and dreamed, this time of the statue. She dreamt it alive and exceedingly sensitive: it was not a combination of a dragon and a horse, but at the same time it did represent both of these powerful creatures and also a bull, a rose, and a storm. It was a deity of multiplicity, many things -all things- and nothing. This multitudinous god revealed to her that its earthly name was Fire, and that in this circular temple (and the many others like it hidden away in thick jungles the world over) people had once made sacrifices to him and worshiped him. He explained the magic of dragons and of horses and bulls and flowers and storms. That he could, and would, magically bring to life her dreamed phantom of a son in such a way that all creatures, except fire and Kee herself, would believe the dream child to be a man of flesh and blood. The deity charged that once this man had been instructed in human rites and rituals, he should be sent to the other, nearby, circular ruined temple whose pyramids were still standing downstream, so that another voice might canonize him. In this dream of the woman that dreamed, the dreamed one awoke.

Though she slept more than she did not, and was fearful of the life that lay ahead of her, Kee carried out the orders she had been given. She devoted a certain length of time (which finally proved to be two years) to instructing her son in the enigmas of the universe and, more importantly, she told him of the cult of fire. For obvious reasons she was terrified at the idea of ever being separated from him. She spent much time delaying the inevitable. On the pretext of pedagogical necessity, she increased the number of hours she dedicated to dreaming each day. She also spent a great deal of time reworking her creation. She remade the left shoulder, which was somewhat defective from both a muscular and skeletal standpoint. At times, she was disturbed by the feeling that all of this had already happened and that she was simply reliving the fate which had brought her her first child. Tears gripped her eyes and would not let go, nor spring forth. It was as if she were the victim of a massive atomic bomb dropped solely on top of her: she and her child the only victims of this bizarrely private holocaust. She remembered her “saviors” aboard that boat, the Human Project, and thought, for a moment, perhaps that she was the Human Project. All of humanity depended upon her and she was the sole being charged with the gift of creation.

At times, sadness overwhelmed her. However, in general, she battled to make her days happy days and to focus her powers on the task at hand. When she closed her eyes she thought, “Now I will be with my son.” Or, more rarely: “The son I have engendered is waiting for me and will not exist if I do not go to him.” And so she went to him.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Buy Children of Men (Music from the Motion Picture) HERE.

*front thumbnail from HERE, top photo from HERE.

EAR FARM’s 8+ is a weekly feature that showcases songs longer than 8 minutes. Click HERE to see the songs recently featured in EF’s 8+.