The Snake Master

Hendrik J. Troskie

Description

‘I am telling you up front,’ says Hendrik. ‘You are responsible for the thoughts that live in your mind. No one else has the power to do it. You must take control. You must check every thought before you allow it to occupy that precious space. Let me also warn you now. It is more difficult than you think. You must escape Plato’s cave. To do that you must come with me. Let’s go on an adventure.
Just remember adventures are messy. The destination is uncertain and ambiguous, the route complex, and yes, sometimes it is volatile. That is just how adventures are.
‘You do not have to do much. You go to your favourite reading spot, in front of a fireplace, if that is what you like. Take a drink or two. We are going to be a while. So be brave, gather your courage, and pack a sense of humour. Come on, let’s not waste any more time. Come with me now. Let’s escape Plato’s cave.’

Sujets

• Literary
• Comedy
• Philosophy
• Character development
• Story arc
• Tragedy
• Fiction
• Satire

Informations

• Publié par: Partridge Publishing Singapore
• Date de parution: 01 septembre 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781543766219
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE SNAKE MASTER
AND THE OUTRAGEOUS PHILOSOPHER
 
 
 
 
 
 
HENDRIK J. TROSKIE
 
 
 

 
Copyright © 2021 by Hendrik J. Troskie.
 
ISBN:
Hardcover
978-1-5437-6622-6

Softcover
978-1-5437-6620-2

eBook
978-1-5437-6621-9
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
All characters and events, even those based on real people, are entirely fictional, and any resemblance to people and events are purely coincidental, even when they are meaningful and any resemblance to real people or events are unintentional.
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
www.partridgepublishing.com/singapore
 
To Louise
The joy is in the writing.
CONTENTS
Prologue
PART ONE : DARK ALLEYS AND DEAD ENDS
Meeting John Allen
Breakfast with Robert
Meeting with Megsum and Amanda
Coffee with Peter
Meeting Liz
Drinks with Kristoff
Breakfast with Ricardo
Coffee with Kristoff
Dinner with Peter
Brunch with Edwin
Drinks with Thomas
PART TWO : GLIMMERS OF LIGHT AND HOPE
Lunch with John Allen
Coffee with Rosemary
Dinner with Liz, I
Dinner with Martin
Dinner with Liz, II
Brunch with Victoria
Dinner with Liz, III
Dinner with Jeremy
Dinner with Liz, IV
PART THREE : LEAVING THE CAVE AND INTO THE LIGHT
Lunch with Francois
Brunch with James
Dinner with Liz, V
Coffee with Lilly
The Verdict
PROLOGUE
But I always liked side-paths, little dark back-alleys behind the main road, there one finds adventures and surprises, and precious metal in the dirt.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky
‘I am telling you up front,’ says Hendrik. ‘You are responsible for the thoughts that live in your mind. No one else has the power to do it. You must take control. You must check every thought before you allow it to occupy that precious space. Let me also warn you now. It is more difficult than you think. You must escape Plato’s cave. To do that you must come with me. Let’s go on an adventure. Just remember adventures are messy. The destination is uncertain and ambiguous, the route complex, and yes, sometimes it is volatile. That is just how adventures are.
‘Together we will explore dark tunnels and discover dead ends. When we do, we will retrace our steps and see glimmers of light and hope. On the way, we will rediscover old wisdoms and we will discover new ideas. If we are lucky, we will leave the cave and go into the light. To do so, we must go back to places we have forgotten we have been before. We must go to places we have not been before, and hopefully, we will find treasure there and will never forget we have gone there. We must also go to places we thought we dare not go.
‘When we are done, we will be a lot smarter, wiser, and resilient against stupidity. I guarantee that. On the way, we will laugh a lot and cry a little. But that part is not guaranteed.
‘You do not have to do much. You go to your favourite reading spot, in front of a fireplace, if that is what you like. Take a drink or two. We are going to be a while. So be brave, gather your courage, and pack a sense of humour. Come on, let’s not waste any more time. Come with me now. Let’s escape Plato’s cave.’
PART ONE
DARK ALLEYS AND DEAD ENDS
Dialogues with John Allen, Robert, Megsum and Amanda, Peter, Kristoff, Ricardo, Edwin, and Thomas.
MEETING JOHN ALLEN
On paper, you say exactly and completely what you feel. How easy it is to break things off on paper! You hate, you shout, you kill, you commit suicide; you carry things to the very end. And that’s why it’s false. But it’s damned satisfying. In life, you’re constantly denying yourself, and others are always contradicting you. On paper, I make time stand still and I impose my convictions on the whole world; they become the only reality.
Simone de Beauvoir
T he eyes interrogate.
‘So, Hendrik,’ he says, ‘how did you get yourself into this mess?’
There is a familiarity in that question, like it is not the first time I heard it. It transports me back to my childhood, something my father asked on an all too regular a basis. The phrasing was different, and there was often despair in Father’s voice, something like, ‘Hendrik! What the fuck have you done now?’
I keep that thought in my mind as he turns to the last page of the letter. His name is John Allen, and I am in Allen and Overly’s offices. Prestigious lawyers, I was told, and experts in libel defence. From the name, you can assume John is the Allen in Allen and Overly. Precisely why they assigned one of the partners to my case, I don’t know. Perhaps it is based on the success of my novel. Perhaps they thought I am rich because of it. Also, the novel is why I am here. So perhaps it is because mine is potentially an intriguing legal case. For the sake of my meagre savings, I hope it is the latter.
John has just finished reading a letter. The letter is from another lawyer. I don’t know, or rather did not know, about her until the letter arrived. A Jennifer Rawlings, I recall. The letter details a threat to go to court for a cease-and-desist order. So yes, this is a cease-and-desist letter. It comes before the order. The order comes if you don’t cease and desist. It is like a final warning before being excluded from school. The letter also threatens me with a libel lawsuit. I am not entirely sure who the plaintiffs are. There are many apparently, but the letter isn’t specific. If I were a business, you would probably call this a class-action lawsuit. That is why I am here with John Allen from Allen and Overly.
‘I have no idea,’ I say with feigned innocence.
John cuts straight through the innocence. ‘Really, you think that this letter is a mistake, that you have done nothing to justify this action?’
It is my father all over again. The eyes are the same, dark brown and intensely intelligent. I don’t get the fascination with blue eyes. They can only do two things—either they pierce you or they drown you in deep pools. Maybe three things. They can also be vacant. Blue eyes can be disconcertingly vacant.
You can never say that of brown eyes; brown eyes are never vacant. They can do everything else, from a warm sunrise to a spectacular sunset. Brown eyes can be curious. They can deceive, beam intelligence, say ‘I love you’, everything. Maybe green eyes can do one thing better; no other coloured eyes can say ‘I love you’ better than green eyes. But brown eyes can do everything else. They can also interrogate. That is what John’s eyes are doing now. Fierce interrogation. Blue eyes, only three things.
I abandon the make-belief innocence. It never stood up to my father’s interrogating gaze either.
I say sheepishly, ‘I suppose I upset someone in the novel.’
John isn’t satisfied with my answer. ‘It says that in the letter, Hendrik.’
I start to defend myself more vigorously. ‘Not sure why because the publisher included the usual disclaimer. You know the one. “All characters and events, even those based on real people, are entirely fictional, and any resemblance to people and events are purely coincidental, even when they are meaningful.”’
‘So you know them?’ he asks.
I hate it when people use ‘them’ and ‘they’. It is vague and ambiguous, so every opportunity I get, I drill down to specifics. I drill down to specifics. ‘I know who?’
The eyes tell me not to muck about. ‘The characters in your novel.’
The answer is obvious to me, so I answer with a question, ‘How can I not? I sort of created them.’
I think I made my innocence stick that time. John decides to change tactics. ‘You are going to have to tell me everything, Hendrik.’
That sounds like a lot of hard work. Time. Money, my money. So I try to get out of it. ‘Everything? You cannot be serious. Where do I start?’
John’s instruction is clear. ‘At the beginning of course.’
Lawyers always want to serialise events, start at the beginning, work through the middle to the end. They want to establish a linear progression of events along a ticking timeline. I say so to John.
‘Wrong,’ he says, ‘detectives build a timeline of events. Lawyers try to break it down.’
‘Well, in that case, it is a series of dialogues,’ I say, ‘but I cannot tell them chronologically in the novel because that won’t make sense logically. So I will start in the middle of the story somewhere, but in the beginning of the novel. I heard somewhere that good novels start in the middle. I think Lilly told me that.’
John wants details—names, identities—so he asks, ‘Who is Lilly?’
‘My wife,’ I say, realising I must be more careful what I reveal to a prestigious lawyer. No more names outside the novel.
‘Did she help write the novel or edit it?’ he asks.
I protect her immediately. ‘No, she is completely innocent.’
Why did I plead innocence on her behalf? It implies I am guilty. I see that judgement