smokingboot

Terrible day yesterday, my mood getting worse and worse, rescued by the utter silliness of Red One with its awesome Krampus.*

Then we went to bed and I found myself asleep but not, dream-recalling a particularly traumatic event back in the 80s, something I try not to remember and don't talk about. The memory rose in shock and as it did, this tall silver metallic figure that seemed in some way like an angel, appeared to be cutting something. I was discussing the film The Prophecy, which just tries way too hard† but does have Viggo Mortensen being arcanely vicious in it. I was explaining to someone that the reason I could never 'go home' with the devil is because I need to be loved. The silver being disappeared, replaced by a huge multicoloured peacock angel who roared at me that every single choice I ever made that brought happiness to my life came from doing things God doesn't like. He didn't roar at me like someone who is furious but in a get-this-into-your-head way.

I suddenly was above my bed staring at myself all bundled up under the covers, my own tear-streaked eyes peering out over the covers up at me, and no idea whether I was awake or asleep.

'You didn't protect me against a thing,' I shouted back though possibly not at the peacock angel, 'you left me there to crawl like a broken beetle!' And that was the image I saw after that event, a beetle smashed by the boots of children, its carapace shattered, crawling around in last moments of agony, its one thought if any being what was the point of that?

And no angel, silver, peacock, or whatever answered me. In that raw silence, the dreams faded away and I slept. Slept well actually.

This probably connects into reading about Hilary Mantel's backyard devil. It interests me that she felt it somehow took root inside her; yes she made what sense she could of it in terms of her Catholic upbringing, but how poetic that she became the creator of Wolf Hall, a gentle absolution or at least re-framing‡ of the man who destroyed the power of Catholicism in England.

Today I am meant to be seeing friends, and I will do it. I am still a bit cold ridden but the fever went a couple of days back. R is still very unwell so I won't stay long. But today or tomorrow, Christmas is officially starting in this house.

*Who has a great car.

†And wastes Christopher Walken in a battle with his hair.

‡Little things please me. Crumb was framed for sure but he did a fair amount of framing himself. Is it a demi-pun? Don't think so. Don't have a name for it.