where truth glew in fire"
(Carlos Drummond de Andrade)
The night already fell over the desert, when the Monkeys decided to go out for a little fresh air after the sophisticated but anguished debate they had maintained. Upon leaving the rocky cloister where had been confined, they were startled by the magnificent sky of a deep black contrasted only by the way of shining stars that the ancients called Milky Way. As the day animated that picture with the movement and symphony of birds, night plunged it in such a calm and silence that the soul of the observer froze.
The starry sky, final word of beauty, always constituted the ultimate expression of the mystery of existence. For no other reason it had been in almost all primitive religious manifestations. Prehistoric Man ever saw heaven as the abode of gods. But how often that carved work of artists or that bid of data (depending on the philosophy espoused) is forgotten, trivialized to the point of insignificance? Even him whose innumerable and immeasurable aspect seems to dictate, line by line, the Constitution of the misery of the mind which contemplates it...
In the wilderness, the expanse of the sky is often extraordinarily clear. No cloud hides its wonders, unless, quite seldom, one or another of sand. Therefore, at the first fleeting glimpse they had of the night sky, the friends reached the immediate understanding that such a magnificent darkness, whatever it was, had a confession to tell them. And decided to delay a bit, so that they could hear it.
The lavishness of the oasis in terms of fruits, roots, shadows and water certainly favored their project. As a matter of fact, the green formation they had found was no less than a microcosm, a system for the preservation of life provided with everything that living beings needed or might need, although surrounded by sands whose temperatures exceeded 86 degrees. So, it is not unreasonable to say that an oasis provided of all things as that one was the perfect place for the four friends to scan the sky for as many days as they found necessary.
And they stayed there for a whole week, during which they exploited the site by day; and at night probed the firmament. Altogether, they discerned near three thousand stars. But halted in those that clustered in constellations such as Andromeda and the two Bears, whose forms they discussed with no consensus. In the twilight of the seventh day, when involved in a lively conversation in the woods, they were surprised to see a Donkey grazing. The animal’s taut ears seemed able to capture the most subtle sounds including, as obvious, the conversation of the four.
- Good! marveled Tile. We have a new companion! And asked with as much circumstance as the other had employed:
- But how can you see them, if you have the head facing the ground?
- Don’t misunderstand me. I have many reasons for walking with the head down. But I have the snout and the mouth down, not the eyes. Nothing escapes my sight. I see and hear with the same perfection.
- You must see very well, since you have very long ears... Tile said.
- You can’t imagine how much! Donkey agreed. And what about my nose? Have you noticed it?
- Yes, dear friend. It's enormous.
– You overstate it, but it's as big as powerful. Smells perfectly all the smells!
Those words were the cause of an awakening of the four. Suddenly, they understood that their new party had especially accurate senses. Potsherd even imagined that an animal with such acuity could provide them a great means of transport. And he already saw himself installed in the back of the freighter, which woke the same demons of prostration that had tempted him before. And had recourse to flattery:
- You have the most powerful senses in the animal kingdom!
- Far from it, said the Donkey. But they suffice me and yield leftovers. I also deduct, and can make accounts.
Something in those words unveiled a very special feeling, but it was difficult to discern which. They ruled out the possibility of it being vainglory, of which the Donkey’s words had the form, but lacked the elation, the pride, and everything else that constitutes the vital core of that feeling. Rather, the tone in which the Donkey addressed them was the antithesis of vainglory. But still, they had doubts about what animated the newcomer.
- Tell us: how many stars you see in heaven? Tile intervened.
- Thousands, answered the Ass, but there are many others.
- How many? insisted the Monkey.
- Infinite.
- You say that the universe is infinite!
- Yes, although this is little relevant.
- How so? The universe being or not being infinite is irrelevant?
- Sure it is, as a theoretical question, the Donkey promptly replied. Science and Philosophy depend on the rules of conceptual thought. They can’t forsake them without losing their meaning. But those rules are subject to a practical imperative of a higher order: animals only think what helps them perform tasks. The universe being or not infinite does not help them do their daily works. Thus it’s irrelevant.
- So Astronomy is a useless discipline?
- It depends on how you take it. The ancients made Astronomy a kind of Astrology. Thus they gave it a practical meaning. They thought the stars should be studied to determine their influence on human life. It’s true that they understood the movements of celestial bodies far more imperfectly than today’s Men. But have adopted the right principle. I wonder if that principle is not more important than the volume of knowledge. Science must always remain in harmony with its practical imperative. I suspect that Men lost touch with that harmony, as they expanded their knowledge wildly.
- So you read the Zodiac every day? Glass questioned unexpectedly.
- I read the stars, I study them in search of possible messages. I don’t read horoscopes.
- Why don’t you? Glass insisted.
- For very practical reasons. I have a friend, a Donkey like me, who does not go to work without reading the horoscope. Because he was born in January, believes strongly that the constellation of Capricorn governs his life. One day, by mistake, he read the horoscope for Gemini and went to work. As usual, he did only what was recommended in the constellation’s message. At the end of the day, his master gave him a bucket of oats. The Donkey thought it was a reward of the stars for his faithfulness. He swallowed it all until could not eat more. And ended up with indigestion. When he turned to the horoscope to understand why good had turned into evil, found out he had read the wrong message. And concluded that the oats were no prize. On the contrary, the indigestion manifested the wrath of the stars for his lack of faithfulness in reading the right message. Do you understand why I don’t believe in horoscopes? I don’t want to end up like my friend.
Glass replied:
- What you expounded applies to the entire saga of reason, since it made its appearance on Earth. The current disjunction between reason and faith is artificial. It has never been made in the past and seems to be misleading. It conceals a deeper disjunction between reason divorced from its practical imperative and reason married to it. This disjunction is shown throughout the History of Reason. Faith is not credulity, superstition, illusion. It's simply reason’s nuptials with the practical meaning of existence. As such, it is justified by its effect, by the practical result it produces, not by the description of the world it gives. Only a fool would think that the act of believing is intended to describe the world. It’ true that faith can be tainted when it goes astray from reason, when it protects itself from the corroding critique of reason and alienates the intellect. But this is not the normal situation. The problem of the present time is to have fashioned a knowledge contrary to the practical meaning of other knowledges, and having relapsed in the historical disjunction of reason and its practical imperative.
The dialogue thus initiated, continued for much more time. The five Mammals spoke lively, as night unraveled its mysteries slowly. At the end, Glass asked the Donkey:
- You said that your friend has an owner. And yours, where is he?
– Don’t have anymore. As a new Midas(*), I made him an ex-owner, by combining faith to reason and senses. Since then, he left for the world saying he is Apollo. I assumed the faith which is appropriate to my nature, he assumed the deity he thinks fit to his own. And lost reason.
– Didn’t he say you believe because you’re a Donkey?
The Donkey looked at Glass with the downcast eyes characteristic of his species. It was the only answer he offered. His look crossed Glass and went into the immensity of the desert.
Along with the others, Glass continued to walk to and fro, but all of them were silent. The Donkey's last words reverberated in their minds: "He lost his reason. He lost his reason." Yes, and never ceased to be an Ass.
Above them, the truth glew in fire.
(*) In Greek mythology, Midas was the king to whom, in a fit of rage, Apollo gave donkey ears. In another myth, Midas received from Bacchus the power to transform into gold whatever he touched.
