I often times get so thoroughly wrapped up in my own record collection that I forget the magnificent collection of books we have available to us in the library here in the Warren. I came with the specific purpose of researching texts that may aid us in the learning more about “Ariel”, but was instantly staggered the rows stretching deep into the earth before me, innumerable volumes accumulated over reset after reset.
I strolled, mesmerized, past aisle after aisle until I found the section covering the time that equates with the early Iron Age on the Surface, remembering the mention Dodgson made of early Celtic scripts found in his archeological dig above.
A corridor of books climbs above me, gently sweeping inward to a pointed peak nearly twenty feet above. Ahead the line of shelves stretches so far my eyes lose it to darkness.
There is this kind of ceaseless uniformity in the macro and unimaginable variation in the micro. Each row seems just as the last in unending succession, but when a closer look is taken each is unique; each book individual, each sentence a matchless combination of words.
I find the same in a track I’ve selected by Grøn titled 12° 33’ 12.9852” E. When given a cursory listen one may hear it as repetitive and invariable. But oh! How wrong you would be! The soul of this song is in the details that lie between the obvious notes, as one might find meaning not in the words another speaks, but in the pattern of breathing that ties that speech together.
So as I begin pulling the books from the shelves I see not the endless rows but only the spine around which my fingers are wrapped. Not the vague whole, but the specifics in the details.
Besides—how many battles could have been fought in the first 300 or so years of the first millennium (Surface Years)?