Manfred Kyber - Little Mandrake

Table of Contents

Little Mandrake's Birth
The Nutcracker's Views
Muffy-Muff
Habakuk
Little Mandrake's Walk To Those Who Are Asleep
Little Mandrake's Walk To Those Who Are Awake
An End That Is Only A Beginning

Little Mandrake's Birth

It was a dull, rainy day when Little Mandrake was born.

It was no steady rain that one hopes something from.  It was a wet, cold fog that erases all colors and smudges all outlines.  It was in February and carnival time and masks were darting through the fog.

Little Mandrake was laying in the cushions, whimpering and looking hideously.  Three doctors were standing there and were talking in Latin.  In the end, they thought that the child was a "case", and they could not guarantee its ability to live.

The parents were very saddened.  It is not pleasant to have a "case" as a child.  Children should be pretty normal.  Only, most of the time, one does not do something in one's own life.  One marries according to one's status and one's purse and then calls that God's will.  Nature has to comply with that.  But she does not do so.  Therefore, Nature is also not decent and one disguises her whereever possible.  This behaviour is called morality.  From that what is called God's will and from that what is called morality, human life is built up.  It also holds up wonderfully if all is pretty normal.  Only when the rude Nature announces her presence, the dam breaks.  From which one has to see that everything should be pretty normal, that one has to exclude Nature as rude, and everything has to be the way as it is baptized.

Thus, Little Mandrake was not normal, and therefore one did not know for sure how to baptize him.  I say "him" because Little Mandrake was a boy, provided he stayed alive what the doctors vividly called into question with Latin words.

The relatives also stood around and consoled with the known and heartfelt love among relatives that should arise from the fact that one bears the same name; and said it could still become something of it.  One could never know and there should have been cases where ... They recounted the cases.

It was very loving of them; because quietly they were glad that the "case" had not happened to them.

Finally, one pulled oneself together on every side and gave Little Mandrake also a name.  But it is out of the question for us.  We want to call him as he appeared to the people, as Little Mandrake.

Little Mandrake is a changeling, a mandrake that is rooted quite deep in the earth and becomes a changeling when one pulls the roots from the earth.

Then, tactful relatives considerately drew the cradle's curtain, and Little Mandrake remained in the half-light of his life's first hour.

Outside, it rained and the masks darted though the rain.  Inside, it was still.  The clock ticked quietly, and a big tomcat was purring beside the fire.

Finally, the tomcat got up, softly crept to the cradle and cautiously pushed aside the curtain with the paw.  His whiskers groped their way carefully to the front, and he gazed and sniffed at the something in the cushions with the greatest possible knowledge of the subject.

"No, that is not a human being", he said appreciatingly, "that is like something of us, but again not completely.  It is very strange.  I will have a look what becomes of it."

Then, the child's hand reached for the tomcat's paw and held on to it.

That was Little Mandrake's first friendship.

The Nutcracker's Views

"The main thing in life is that one chews everything and one always neatly spits out two shells and a kernel", the nutcracker said, and looked at Little Makdrake challengingly from his water-blue eyes.

Little Mandrake was no longer a baby, but a little boy and had received the nutcracker for Christmas.  He stood in the middle below the fir's blaze of light, had a colorful uniform and a pigtail, and looked exceptionally furious.  His uniform, the long pigtail and the furiousity always completely took up his entire little person.

Little Mandrake loved him his way, like everything that had been placed in his care.  But he did not like the uniform and the pigtail, and he found the wooden dignity strange.

Little Mandrake was just not a normal child.  Still not yet, as the relatives said.

"Yes", the nutcracker said and properly crackled with the jawbone, "always chew and spit out.  Then one knows where one is with.  Naturally, you are again of another opinion", he closed reproachfully.

"One cannot chew everything", Little Mandrake said thoughtfully.

The nutcracker indignantly took hold of his pigtail.

"Of course one can", he shouted, "at least I can, and all who have a uniform and a pigtail and such a mouth like me!"

Little Mandrake shook his head.  He thought of the nights when he had lain there with wakeful eyes and had seen things that were intangible.  For Little Mandrake saw the soul of the things and heard silent voices whispering.  Oh, the chest of drawers had recently recounted so beautifully from the grandmother's time and had added such funny gestures with its dainty little rococo legs, and the kettle had always opened up and snapped shut the big spout and had interrupted until the chest of drawers stopped peevedly.  Later, shadows had sat in the room, faint, barely perceptible forms with clothes like from cobweb and they had looked quite the way like the chest of drawers had reported it.  They had pointed at the old grandfather clock and nodded to each other ... Oh, so much Little Mandrake had seen, even while he could not yet understand it.

These are sad eyes who see this.  These are Little Mandrake eyes.  They are rare, as Little Mandrakes are.  That is a big luck because, else, where would all the uniforms and pigtails be left, the normal morality and all that what people call God's intention, if many with the sad eyes could see beind the things?

"No, not everything is tangible", Little Mandrake said, "there is really much, much more than that which one can grasp.  The tangible is only on the side.  It is not the real."

"That is nonsense!" the nutcracker shouted and became even redder than he usually was.  "What is not tangible, one cannot chew and spit out, therefore, it is not there at all.  That is the single truth.  That is exact."

He spit out two nutshells and a kernel, right before Little Mandrake's feet.  It was like a spit-out proof.

Little Mandrake pushed the shells aside and ate up the kernel.

"What was in the kernel?" he asked.

"How shall I know that, now that you have swallowed it?" the nutcracker shouted angrily, "you are a dumb boy!"

This was also a proof, and even a very usual and popular one.  Little Mandrake had already heard it often from others, in school and at home, when he asked for such things.

The nutcracker recognized that he had gone too far.  He got so many nuts from Little Mandrake and was carefully put into a little bed in the evening in which he could comfortably stretch the wooden legs.  That was necessary.  Because it is much more tiring to stand on wooden legs than on movable ones.

He therefore decided to give in.

"Anyway, you would do much better", he said, "and you would not bump into everything and get you bumps if you stayed in one spot, nice and wooden like me, instead of hanging around in all kinds of areas.  One always has to stay in one spot.  Then nothing happens to one.  One does not disturb anyone and is not disturbed because everyone knows: in that spot, there stands the nutcracker, I will not go there, else I will kick him and he will shout at me.  That is quite simple."

"But if I still step on him -- not on you, of course -- but for example everywhere else where other nutcrackers are?"

"Nobody who is reasonable, does that.  Because who is reasonable, sits in one spot and does not move."

"But I do,", Little Mandrake said stubbornly, "what then?"

"Then all nutcrackers will take a snap at you."

Little Mandrake laughed overjoyed.

"Huh -- that must look funny!"

"Don't be cheeky, you know", the nutcracker said, "that goes beyond the pigtail, do you understand, that is revolution."

Little Mandrake did not know what revolution was.  He thought that it would not be so bad if it only concerns the pigtail.  Little Mandrake was a child and did not know how strongly the heads are attached to the pigtails and that if often costs blood if pigtails are cut off.

"No, that's no good", the nutcracker continued, "you always have to stay where you have been placed.  That's the only true wisdom."

"I want to go to the distant shore", Little Mandrake said and looked into the dusk with sad eyes.

"What is that -- the distant shore?" the nutcracker said disapprovingly.  "Can you grasp the distant shore? No.  Therefore, it does not exist.  Only the spot exists on which you stand with he wooden legs."

"I see the distant shore", Little Mandrake said, "I see many, many distant shores -- I want to go to each of them.  It must be beautiful.  I want to know what is behind it ..."

"What is that worth?" the nutcracker said, "can you chew that and spit it out?"

"No", Little Mandrake said somewhat abashedly.

Because the distant shores were far, very far, as it seemed to him.  It must be a long way, much longer than, for example, to the town, where the fun-fair was on Midsummer's Eve.  One could already not go there on foot.  At least, it was not credible.  But the distant shores, these were farther, much, much farther ...

"You see", the nutcracker said satisfied, "just stay always nicely on the same spot! You also have to wear a uniform and a pigtail, then you look like all the other people and no-one kicks you.  That's the only true wisdom."

"But are all people in the world nutcrackers?" Little Mandrake asked.

"Of course, what else?" the nutcracker said and stood up on his stiff wooden legs especially powerfully.  "Of course.  At least the reasonable ones.  The others are out of the question.  That is a big luck.  Else, one had to keep moving forward and would be shoved.  Thank you! One would have to move from the spot, and the spot is so warm when one always stands there."

He just spit out the shells around him.

"But I don't want to", Little Mandrake thought and looked into the dusk, until where it became lost in uncertain lines -- in the distant shore ...

Muffy-Muff

Little Mandrake was sitting in the sun near the tomcat.

The two loved each other very much and were together all the time when the tomcat was not hunting mice or was otherwise professionally occupied.

He had also introduced Little Mandrake to all secrets of the animal world, as far as he knew them and he deemed it right to convey this knowledge to Little Mandrake.  Even if Little Mandrake was half an animal, he was still human and developed with human slowness.  Therefore all had to be done with a careful paw, and such one the tomcat had.  He was extremely wise and even among these animals, he was a philosopher.  But above all, he loved Little Mandrake, and love guides even safer and better than philosophy.

"I am feeling strange here", Little Mandrake said sadly and fondled the tomcat behind the ear.

The tomcat squinted toward the sun with screwed-up eyes.  "You will always be a stranger", he said sympathetically, "you experience Nature differently than the humans.  You are feeling one with it.  The humans think they stand above it.  They still have to return to it.  Somewhere, all mouse holes lead to the outside, even if they are very artistic and branched.  It is expressed somewhat sporty, pardon me.  But it is quite similar."

Little Mandrake looked very sad.

"You don't need to grieve because of that", the tomcat continued and purred soothingly, "after all, you are not a real human."

"What am I then?" Little Mandrake asked.

"I don't know", the tomcat said, "probably, you're a little mandrake.  I also don't know everything.  Only the humans think that they know everything."

"I want to go to the distan shore", Little Mandrake said, "there, I surely would experience it.  But the nutcracker says that there is no distant shore."

"The nutcracker is a piece of wood", the tomcat said.

"But he speaks and even scolds.  He says 'dumb boy'.  The chews nuts and spits them out.  He is very fond of that.  He has a uniform", Little Mandrake objected.

"Many pieces of wood do have a uniform", the tomcat said.

Little Mandrake gave more details.  "He straightens the legs when I tuck him into the bed.  It then cracks.  I heard it clearly.  He therefore lives.  Doesn't he?"

"What one calls life, yes", the tomcat said, "but it is still a nutcracker, nothing more.  A piece of wood that has been carved into a figure."

"The teacher at school does it quite exactly the same way", Little Mandrake said, "he also says: That exists and that doesn't.  If one asks more, he also says: Dumb boy! But he still is not a nutcracker? He is also not of wood."

The tomcat grimaced arrogantly, as arrogant as only cats can.

"One does not need to be of wood to be a nutcracker."

Little Mandrake was thinking.

His sad eyes were opened wide and longingly.  He took hold of the tomcat's front paws and looked him straight into the face.

"I have always loved you, as long as I can think", he said.  "Have you been to the distant shore? Then tell me how one gets to the distant shore!"

There, the meadow-green in the tomcat's eyes disappeared.  The little eye slits dilated and the pupils became dark and deep as if nothing but riddles laid behind them.  He sat down in front of Little Mandrake, big and thick, and said in a solemnly meeowing tone: "I knew that you would ask me about that.  I will tell you.  For you have to go the way to the distant shore because your eyes are looking for it.  One always recognizes that in the eyes -- with my practice, of course.  Until now, I wasn't allowed to tell you.  You were not yet ready for it."

"After all, I am still a child now", Little Mandrake said doubtfully.

"Children often find it more easily than adults", the tomcat said, "one will find it if one looks for it.  One is ready if one asks for it."

A transfigured smile went over Little Mandrake's face that was pale from all the thinking.

"I cannot lead you to the distant shore, one does have to look for it oneself", the tomcat continued, "we only know the entrance.  It is a big mystery.  The humans knew it.  Now, they have forgotten it.  But earlier, you know, in the Isis temples, when they still treated us as holy and saw their brother in all living beings, -- there, where the pyramids stand on the yellow sand and the palmtrees in the blazing heat of the sun -- it was a holy land --, they knew the mystery."

"You have told me of that land", Littie Mandrake nodded.

"Now, only few know it.  The humans now say that they stand above it.  They are nutcrackers.  But I know it.  I also was in this land -- through the entrance, you know.  The land looks differently now.  But the traces still exist, dug into the desert sand by the bronze humans who loved the cats and who knew the mystery."

Little Mandrake trembled.

"Then teach me the mystery!" he begged and looked into the intelligent animal eyes as into a temple.

"You don't have to become excited like that", the tomcat said friendly, "it is quite natural.  The riddles do not lie in there, but behind it.  We don't know them.  It is the human in you that is so excited.  It will pass.  The humans are alienated from all what is Nature.  They have separated themselves from it and cling to that which they have made up by themselves.  The no longer head the voice inside them."

"I know that", Little Mandrake said, "but please, tell me the mystery!"

"Don't be impatient! When you know it, you'll need even more patience.  You know what muffy-muff is, don't you?"

"Yes", Little Mandrake said a little disappointed, "if you lay down yourselves that you look like a bath tub, and place the front paws in a way that it looks like a muff.  That's cat's custom, I have learned it from you this way.  But what's all this? It looks sweet.  But that is not a mystery at all.  I see that every day."

"All mysteries are ordinary.  One only doesn't know it.  The mystery is muffy-muff.  The humans in the holy land called it meditation.  You therefore have to do muffy-muff -- muffy-muff." The tomcat showed the muffy-muff position although Little Mandrake knew it.  "The rest will come by itself", he explained.

"But I can't do muffy-muff correctly", Little Mandrake said and tried in vain.

"You only have to be similar to it", the tomcat consoled, "you only need to fold your paws as you do when you recite your prayer in the evening."

"Yes, I can do that", Little Mandrake said, "and all the other things will come by itself? Then, I will go to the distant shore?"

"Only to the entrance", the tomcat teached, "this evening, we will both try, when you have gone to bed.  But you have to lock the nutcracker away in the cupboard."

Little Mandrake was very happy.

"Where will we go first? To the holy land with the Isis temples?"

"No", the tomcat said, "I can't take any responsibility.  We will go to the entrance first.  Habakuk will tell us everything else."

"Who is Habakuk?"

"A forest screech owl who is a friend of mine, but only muffy-muff-wise."

"So we will go to Habakuk", Little Mandrake said, "does he also have such lantern eyes as the owl in the animal picture-book?"

"Yes, he does."

"I am so excited and I thank you", Little Mandrake said.

"You don't need to thank me.  You were loving me.  Goodbye until the evening! I am going to be occupied professionally now."

The tomcat sneaked into a hedge where he heard something rustling.

---

It was a quite still night in Little Mandrake's sleeping room.  Only the breaths were audible, of an animal and a human child that was not a real human child.  Both their breaths were weak and soft.  It was as if they breathed only like plants in a sultry night.  Their souls were far.

The moon looked into the window with a pale face.  It saw what it had be seeing for thousands upon thousands of years: meditation -- muffy-muff...

Habakuk

Little Mandrake's Walk To Those Who Are Asleep

Little Mandrake's Walk To Those Who Are Awake

An End That Is Only A Beginning

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