Mâ, the Ancient One of evolution, leads Gringo on adventures through the past & future of the Earth, from the pre-human forest to the forest of tomorrow.
Un 'Livre de la Jungle' à l'envers. Non plus un petit d'homme qui revient à la vie animale, mais un autre petit d'homme dans une tribu sauvage de la forêt amazonienne, qui cherche comment on sort de la Tribu humaine et le passage de 'l'Homme après l'Homme'. C'est la légende de l'évolution et de l'Ancienne de l'évolution, figurée par la 'reine' de la tribu, qui entraîne Gringo à la découverte des aventures passées de la terre - en Egypte, dans l'Atlandide, en pays arctique -, et dans l'aventure de l'avenir de la terre, chaque fois forçant le barrage des défenseurs de la Loi établie, que ce soit celle des anciens initiés, celle de la Tribu amazonienne, celle des spiritualistes ou celle des biologistes du XXième siècle. Car chaque sommet atteint devient l'obstacle du prochain cycle. Successivement, Gringo passe par la 'porte de braise', la 'porte de jade', la 'porte bleu', la 'porte de neige', avant d'arriver à la 'porte noire' du XXIième siècle et à la 'minute nulle' où les hommes disent NON à leur loi suffocante et consentent à ouvrir 'les nouveaux yeux de la terre'. l'auteur évoque ici l'aventure qu'il a vécue dans la forêt vierge de Guyanne à l'âge de vingt-cinq ans, et l'aventure qu'il a vécue auprès de Sri Aurobindo et de Mère dans l'avenir de la terre : toute une courbe, de la forêt pré-humaine à la forêt mystérieuse de demain.
A 'Jungle Book' in reverse. No longer a young boy returning to animal life, but another young boy in a wild tribe of the Amazon rainforest, who seeks to discover how one escapes from the human Tribe and the passage of 'Man after Man.' This is the legend of evolution and of the Ancient One of evolution, represented by the 'queen' of the tribe, who leads Gringo on a journey of discovery through the past adventures of the earth — in Egypt, in Atlantis, in the Arctic lands — and into the adventure of the earth's future, each time forcing through the barrier of the defenders of the established Law, whether that of the ancient initiates, that of the Amazonian Tribe, that of the spiritualists, or that of the biologists of the 20th century. For every summit reached becomes the obstacle of the next cycle. Successively, Gringo passes through the 'gate of embers,' the 'gate of jade,' the 'gate of blue,' the 'gate of snow,' before arriving at the 'black gate' of the 21st century and at 'zero minute,' where men say NO to their suffocating law and consent to open 'the new eyes of the earth.' The author evokes here the adventure he lived in the virgin forest of Guyana at the age of twenty-five, and the adventure he experienced alongside Sri Aurobindo and 'Mother' in the future of the earth: an entire arc, from the pre-human forest to the mysterious forest of tomorrow.
XI
GRINGO rose. A ray of sunlight struck the corner of the window and the stone bench with the writing-table beneath its ledge. A papyrus scroll gleamed. The tiles were cold beneath his feet; he let his hands wander in the sunlight. A flight of white pigeons glided on the wing and, in a burst of light, swooped down over the Nile.
He took a grape from a bowl, pushed open the ebony door, and descended the stone stairway to the river. The gongs of the temple could be heard in the distance.
And out there, the bare, rosy crests of the Libyan ranges like a caravan marching toward no source.
Gringo pulled his tunic close and plunged into the river. For a moment he floated, eyes to the sky and head among the sharp reeds. He was twenty-six years old today. It was thousands of years ago and thousands of years like today. It was almost heartbreaking all at once — this little figure in a white tunic drifting beneath a blazing sky; it was any day in the beating of the gongs that would beat tomorrow, beat always, while the Nile lapped and will lap for no time at last, pure and still. Gringo shook his feet vigorously because of the creatures, all the same, and climbed back up the burning steps. He hated those gongs.
— Psst!
A small round face appeared behind the reeds, eyes slitted against the sun, a brown lock on the forehead.
Gringo beckoned her closer. She shook her head.
He took a step into the reeds, his ankles sinking into the soft sponge of roots. She hid in the reeds. Her little golden face could be seen as if through a lattice of sunlight. He took another step.
— If they saw me, she murmured, they would kill me. And suddenly she was there, slender and faintly flushed like a Nubian gazelle, with her long eyes of dark gold filling her face.
— How beautiful you are, Rani! Are you the queen of the reeds?
— Tch! Tch! she said. You don't know what you're saying. They met at the high priest's — they are plotting against the Queen. They hate you, she added. And her faint voice was tight with anguish.
Gringo stood a moment, eyes straight ahead, looking out over the green undulation. One by one the pigeons scattered along the bank like dead papyrus leaves.
— Warn her.
She turned away, parted the reeds with one hand. Her long skirt, drawn tight beneath her breast, was sprinkled with small gold flames.
— Wait, wait!
— Tonight, at Quino's.
And she vanished in a rustling of stems and disheveled umbels.
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