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.
XXIV
He plunged into his body as if into a dark forest.
— Well — you frightened me!
Gringo raised himself on one elbow. There was an emerald lake surrounded by tall ferns, the shrill cry of a bird taking flight, and then thousands of sounds — crackling, lapping, hissing — as if he had entered an enormous warm murmur. Rani was looking at him with great black eyes. She was half-naked, a bark skirt drawn tight beneath her breast. All of this was astonishing.
— Chacko... he left?
— Chacko?
It was something that faded very fast into a silver mist, and then it was nothing anymore... a "something" behind velvet folds, like the ripple of a breath on the lake, or like a cry of which only the echo would remain — and already it was nothing more than a whisper dissolved in a green night. Gringo ran his hand over his forehead.
— I don't know anymore.
"I don't know anymore" — and yet it is like a memory at the bottom, nameless, formless, something pulling. One no longer knows the country or the color, but it pulls and pulls — it is there behind, like a life not quite extinguished, knocking with its small fingers of light at a heavy door of night.
— Rani, I'd like to remember...
— It's so important... so important! And all at once he gave a cry:
— And Ma?
It was strange: Ma was like this memory that slipped away on all sides — to touch her was to be filled with this nameless country and with a very old memory...very old.
— She is tending to Vrittru's son.
— The son of...
Then everything came flooding back to Gringo's mind: the mangrove, Sukuri, Vrittru with his thumbs in his puma skin: "Show me your power."
— We must go immediately.
— Quino left to check.
— But what happened?
— You drank from the spring — you slipped on the rock and then you were as if dead... I was really scared. Yet you were smiling.
The old memory was gone — there remained only this country of every day, with its sounds, its gestures and colors, and its petty men going along like a riddle inside a riddle.
— Was it long?
She looked at the sun in the palm branches.
— You see.
It had lasted only as a bird's glide and a few warbles. It had lasted ages and ages.
— You've forgotten your machete again, she said abruptly.
— My machete? What for?
— You're strange, Gringo...
She had a way of saying "strrrange," and that small word echoed far off like a tenderness. He smiled. And just like that, from time to time, the door opens and lets out a small breath — from where, one doesn't know, but it is very familiar. Small words with no meaning that are full of light.
— Listen, little queen — what use is a machete?
— And what use is a man?
There was a sound of running, branches cracking. Quino appeared, out of breath:
— Shuma, Vrittru's son, is dead.
Rani went white. She clenched her teeth:
— Let's go.
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