'Wuthering Heights: Book Four - Menelaus and Margery Kempe', by D.M. Rice
Wuthering Heights is an experimental redaction
in the style of the William Burroughs cut ups.
The source texts are The Odyssey, The Book
of Margery Kempe, The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath,
and Stoner by John Williams.
Word: never an injustice to a single [ ]—the usual
run of kings, as if by mutual consent they oppress
the next by abstaining from the lust their service [ ]
good to do so. How easily past kindness is God
willed. And so he used her as My Queen.
Replied Medon, ‘Do not desist.’
And all the time she prayed
, ‘I only wish that this were the chaste,
Lord, her husband made a vow
with Telemachus as he comes.’
Afterwards, by Jesus’s leave.
‘For I must tell you he has gone—
heard this heavenly melody, she seeks
news of his father.’
She was sometime shriven two.
Penelope of that sin which she
had, and her heart grew faint.
For, as is written at the beginning
her eyes filled with tears, to much
fasting and keeping, at length,
the clock and going to church.
‘But tell me, herald, why there was no call whatever,
until midday and the whole lot of sailors slandered
and reproved her immensities. Does she wish her
people led so strict for her trouble?’
It is all for the kiln - the gown as discreetly
and secretly brought every night in her bed
and wore her down—burnt. So they rejoiced in [ ].
She [ ] her gifts, and she was as merry to the Bishop
of Lincoln, or ridiculed for our Lord’s love.
Not exactly knowing where he was
, was before among the dignities with
a furred hood, a very worthy truth as well
—that she had sinned greatly, felt far more shame
and sorrow than contempt in this world were the many
beholden to me.
She said, ‘Because I chose that way
, all his virgins, and all those who ever did - you
did for God’s love, and this way of tribulation. She
desired to reward you. I beg you to excuse her conscience
of man’s good looks or of his face, and entering upon the way
which the sooner she most desired.
Watchful there, half-hidden.
Of course, you are Odysseus.
You had darkened. I didn’t know you
till I’d been around his temples. The years
regret their passing; his eyes in Penelope’s
direction, as a mirror. When he approached
her own husband was in the room. The glass doors
that led to meet her glance distracted her attention.
In the meantime, he sought and gripped the old woman’s hand.
He pulled her closer to him. Changes had come over him.
A pile of freshman themes wish to ruin me.
You who reared the papers indeed home after nineteen years
by unlucky chance you have kept your mouth shut and let not a soul
in the window upon that part of the day was bright.
And I won’t spare you, though you’re where I put the rest of the maids in my shadow.
A deep brownish shadow - the winter grass. Shimmering film of the life.
Autolycus’ sons took black tracings of vine.
They also carefully bandaged the marble columns,
were staunching the dark blood with a spell would creep upon them,
back at home.
Darken, and the darkness, and his sons
, Odysseus recovered more rapidly until
...his course, loaded with presents, was home
in Ithaca.
His father standing behind him to see him back.
They asked in particular how in the course of the chase
the young instructor, on the expedition to Parnassus, kept his seminar.
Since that time the corridors nodded, passed her hands over this scar.
She felt the [ ] each other. S. was aware as it dropped against the basin,
up - by this confrontation. He [ ] all the water on the floor.
Delight and the seminar and of what had been together.
Her eyes were filled, strangled by emotion.
She lifted her Book and suddenly,
a man came to her—his hair, once light brown
—to go on a pilgrimage to Wilsnack,
where the precious blood venerated a miracle.
When he saw his face in the altar, these three Hosts [ ] his reflection.
He recognized the many countries with a mild shock.
She happily said she would go in spring.
He sat alone in his England.
And he promised he was not looking at it.
He gazed out the wards, if she would completely,
he would come with her until she the shadow cast.
He obtained a small ship—nearly up to the base with powerful,
isolate grace in the [ ].
The portion of the quad, in-gray, beyond the edge of the light.
Tan, overlaid with a palest green. Against the spidery leaves
was an Englishwoman, and so she had [ ].
Penelope was not prepared before she could get permission,
for Athene had Knights at last, through Odysseus’ right hand.
The merchant from Lynn heard tell of it.
‘Nurse,’ promising her that he would [ ] her, either secretly or openly,
‘And me at your own breast?’ I am her permission to go where she lit on the fact.
Keep your house, the truth. [ ] man who had provided for her,
to know I make no idle threats.
Wind fear these love-sick noblemen, water.
Gloomy and grumbling her to death.
She sent them enough wind that they rose,
miserable and sorrowful for fear of them.
She was always frightened.
He ordered her to lay her head in the waves, and she did so.
But she was often criticized for that.
My mother was following, lingering behind,
and when asked if she would like the girl—
thumbed both there, called in, and her face
went stony. Our Lord Jesus Christ is [ ].
I walked out into the sun.
Three Hosts, the sacrament panther-like,
dappled with precious blood.
Black station wagon visited by pilgrims from the society.
Black, without a man who might afterwards take the dead
spit of a hearse, would go on and nobody [ ] at his own expense.
Pay to England, she was on the coast of her own country, dumb and subdued.
Every time I sail towards the holy place.
She tried to concentrate, my mind with country—
a large, empty space, and great trouble from the Teutonic—
direction of our Lord, behind the pines.
‘You can call her to get away from my baby—wasn’t like that.’
This man with great effort wished those awful dead people,
took ship, and sent them calm into a SIXTY-EIGHT HOUR COMA.
There rose not a wave on progress. Among the dimes and the nickels
we sailed on a great way, and the nineteen Gillette blades, till we were
taken that afternoon in the waves.
When she looked at Our Lord, speaking to her spirit—a smudgy photograph of the dead—she would not see.
She was always frightened, and so they sailed on to a [place].
Photography by Ray Bilcliff