To Criticize a Rose
Copyright 2005 John Blenkin
We criticize others far too much. This is a waste and
self-defeating. In criticizing others we criticize their true
selves - their essence - their Essence. Their essence is the
same as our own. Our essence is the Essence too of the Creator.
When we criticize others we criticize The Creator. If we
criticize ourselves we direct our criticism at the Creator.
This is the reason why attacks on race creed and color are
self-destructing. These cannot be separated from attacks against
the Creator.
A few years ago I visited Arthur - a friend of mine. His wife
Queenie led me in through a heady waft of fried bacon tomatoes
sausages eggs fried bread and best butter on fresh stone-ground
whole-meal plus strong hot orange-tips tea. By chance some of
his relations were down from the north on a quick visit.
The atmosphere in the living-dining room was cozy and relaxed
because of the decor and the warm light from the standard lamps.
Having met the relatives once before I was much at home and glad
to be there. George's smiling sisters Judith Lilly Polly
Big-Beatty and his niece Anna were sat comfortably round the
dining table. The four were senior nurses either Sisters or
Matrons.
Judith wore her hair like Dr Johnson and was the sort to make
even a vicar wash his feet before he set foot in her house.
Lilly had red hair and gray eyes. She smoked 'Craven A'
cigarettes. Polly had dancing eyes and saw the funny side in
everything. She liked a bag of hard pears and a Raymond Chandler
paperback in the bath. Big Beatty was big and acted big.
Young-Betty's husband had died six months before down the
coalmine so she still had little to say save to cut your legs
off. They were all surprised and pleased to see me.
I was given a good kissing and these hearty women called and
laughed back and forth with lit up faces while they got me
organized with plates and cutlery steaming hot bacon and eggs
and fried potatoes.
After some chatter Judith frowned and began to look concerned.
She stared round for the clock feeling it was time to fidget
about the last bus home and began to stand up. 'Come along
Girls!' Judy yelled.
Picking up on this Arthur's eyes became calculating slits. A
rush of urgency went through his body and he rose like a
pheasant and chunted: 'it won't take but a minute to get me
color slides out Our Judy. I've already written the words!'
Arthur pushed Judith back in her chair and took pasteboard
three-d spectacles from nowhere and thrust them at various
angles on each of the noses. The girls' shifted their weight
from buttock to buttock and an eyes-down silence sank upon them.
They looked straight ahead and their breasts heaved in one
communal slow intake of breath. Arthur was already dragging the
screen box in from the Hall and hauled it onto a chair. The lid
was opened and bits of framework were unhinged and the screen
wedged between its stays in a rather lopsided fashion. The
screen box framing and screen on its chair was pushed hard
against the wall to stop the lot falling over.
'You'll love this Our Judy.' Said Arthur hopping about. The
sisters were agape with their necks tense and turned towards
Arthur's Queenie as if to a judge of appeal. Queenie merely
gazed back with a silent smile.
The slide projector was conjured up and plunked down on a pink
light-alloy tea trolley pushed to center stage. This leant first
this way then that because it was not rigid. Standing leaning
towards the lopsided screen it looked like a goat ready to smash
it to pieces.
Plug tops extension leads cables transformers control buttons
all collected in a festoon of adaptors at the wall outlet.
Queenie forced the plugs into their sockets with the help of an
old wooden tea tray swung on edge. Lilly's eyes were alight with
warm amusement.
Slide cassettes were brought in from a bedroom wardrobe and the
first one ram-loaded into the projector giving the tea trolley a
diagonal thrust towards the southwest. Arthur flicked the on/off
switch but produced no light and Queenie had to own up to not
having switched the power supply on.
'Better switch the lights off while we're at it Queenie so the
colors will shine up a treat.' Queenie then plunged everyone
into sudden darkness except for the streetlights shining in
through the orange curtains.
Arthur turned the projector on and a blinding rectangle of white
light at forty-five degrees shone on part of the wall and part
on the ceiling cornice and the remainder highlighting one cheek
of the backside of a chipped cherub on the ceiling. Judith
choked and said something about a headache. Polly blew a cloud
of cigarette smoke into the projector's beam and made the room
look as if it were on fire. Big Beatty stretched herself
somewhat and Lilly giggled.
Arthur got up and reaching for the projector caught his foot in
a cable and the white rectangle of light plummeted to the floor
then at high speed circled round the living room walls three or
four times before being brought under control where the
projector finally shone an intense beam of concentrated light
straight into Judith's terrified face.
The tea trolley was sorted out and Arthur still on his feet was
able to more of less register the lit screen area with the view
panel. This was now too low as silhouettes of heads were cast on
the screen. Three cushions placed under the screen box eased the
problem. Arthur took the button control and with his words in
his right leant towards the projector beam to start his talk.
There was a click and a series of mechanical sound movements.
Then everything went black. There was a tut-tut from Arthur.
Lilly started to giggle. Polly coughed Big-Beatty said nowt.
'That must be that blank.' Said Arthur.
The button clicked again and two huge nostrils appeared on the
screen. Judith said 'I can't quite see anything Arthur.' Again
the button clicked and a larger single nostril with hair took
over. A further click and a picture of a red rose appeared.
Arthur squirmed into a sort of protruding serpentine belly pose
with feet together left hip to the left all slightly twisted to
the right with lips and eyes skewed gazing up towards some other
world. He said:
'This is a red rowhze! Is there anything so beautiful as a
rowhze?
Judith tried to uncross her eyes peering through the angled
three-d specs and said: 'Well yes I think I can see but - we'll
all have to be going now you know Our Arthur it's getting a bit
late.'
Young Anna said: 'Next.'
The control button clicked again. We saw a four-floors block of
flats about ten degrees off vertical leaning down back from a
road with occupiers apparently trying to hold on to their
balcony walls for dear life. Arthur chin in and in deep
declamatory voice mode roared:
'This is a block of flats built for rent under the local
municipality's direct labor scheme co-sponsored by the area
committee of The Amalgamated Union of General Construction
Industry Workers. Notice the balcony access.' This statement was
received by us masses with cold awe and further heightened by
Arthur - addressing his sisters '...don't worry about the last
bus.'
Another click and a woodland 'stand' of Beech in a sea of
Bluebells appeared. This 'stand' was again more of a lean at
seventy degrees down hill. Arthur paused for the effect to sink
in and then said 'I always think of Wordsworth's "The curfew
tolls the knell of parting day" when I see this slide. It
reminds us how fallible we all are.'
Judith had cast off her three-d specs and said 'Ah! Now that's
beautiful Our Arthur.' There was general approbation with
nodding of heads and more movements of getting up and going.
Still another click and the next slide showed a row of isolated
seats that must have been photographed from the back of a bus in
a field of sheep. Arthur was mystified by this picture because
he had no idea where or why it had been taken.
The rest of the slides were equally unique. Arthur and Queenie
were on a cruise around the Scottish Islands where passing boats
climbed like fighter planes into the stratosphere or ran as if
before the wind downhill. There was half a bus. A phalanx of
pedestrians came head-on except they had no heads. Picture
mounts bisected walkers. An unseen hand off picture held a dog
on a leash. A garbage collector emptied a trashcan into some
imaginary tip. A tramp put rubbish into a street bin. Lettering
on a parked van read only '...vice Laundry' visible on its side.
Slides such as these went on and on. Lilly had everyone doubled
up while Queenie clapped her hands. Young-Anna glared six-inch
nails. Polly lit up and Big Beatty belched.
Judith leapt up. 'The last bus! We're going to miss the last
bus!' Everyone screamed.
The women went berserk. They grabbed their bags hats and coats
thanked Queenie for a lovely evening everybody kissed everyone
and thanked Arthur for his wonderful slides and his most
interesting lecture and they would come again in year or two
when things had settled down. The girls streamed through the
hall with Arthur picking his three-dimensional specs off noses
as they passed. They barged through the entrance door and were
out in the cold night. Taxi! They all screamed!
Arthur died a few years later.
Now I look back at that evening and I realize Arthur was the
only one there who did not criticize. The rest of us found only
fault where Arthur had in vain tried to please through his
wonder at taking pictures. He needed no mind exercises no
mantras and no daily reading of texts any obscure discussions no
reminding him to radiate beams of Love he did not feel.
What he only saw was Essence so there was nothing to criticize.
Is there anything so beautiful as the essence of a rowhze?