By: Candace Elizabeth Brooks (a.k.a. Ariadne Phoenix Levinson), Uptown Dallas Art Collective Editor in Chief
This man here at Starbucks told me telepathically that maybe I should write about Elizabeth, but how would it connect to Beethoven?
She’s having a hard time trusting her council, maybe she likes the French Prince, maybe she really loves him, but she has to think of her people.
Elizabeth and her individual people, who she would want to empower by her decision to rule independently and also to fight for virtue rights. And her birds. And her complex interpretation of her body. Elizabeth as she would write prose.
A cabal…she would still want to prove to her potential husband that she was intelligent and capable enough to show leadership on her own.
It would be cool to think that I could base this chapter in a real week in history.
Her ecstatic feelings/flashbacks of pregnancy with Jesus in her past life as Mary/ her ecstatic feelings of premonition about the people who she would be in the future…how nice would it be if she weren’t queen…but if she weren’t, there would be no sure nation.
Privately she does play music. And how she wishes the French Prince could see her…room for nanotech in the day by the designers of civilization.
* * * * *
Elizabeth I at her shrine, altar, reading room. She has her book of prayers open, she has her quills in a quill holder, pages translated, already, in a brass, embellished, tray. Her desk has possibly every stationary device known to man. She has always treated her writing desk as an altar, and everyone knows this; the books in her private library have always been her appendages, her limbs, her friends, her children, siblings, voices of reason, answers to problems and questions, lessons to teach or to explain to those who would benefit from knowing, so, gifts to give, offerings of good will to make. She finds herself at peace in her large private library, with ornate embellished bindings of thousands of volumes, which she cherishes as she cherishes her own life, her own heart, and her own understanding, and her own capacity to think and to make decisions.
Elizabeth’s library of books, the beauty of the wooden bookshelves, their glass frames engraved with renaissance patterns of cherubs, the thought that she could be, that she is, married to it, as well as her kingdom, is so overwhelming to her, is such an empowering thought, the handsomeness of the exposed red oak grain in patterns like marble or water ripples, the curtains framing the tall tall windows that face Elizabeth’s private labyrinth garden, which every three weeks is hedged by gardeners from Italy, a process that takes three days, and during which she is absent, because she is swimming in her small lake elsewhere on the property of Buckingham castle. Her study library also has a secret corridor that leads to a basement (a cave the size of a small canyon) which opens to a large private menagerie of thousands and thousands of birds that are her rightful but secret inheritance from her father Henry VIII.
In his letter bequeathing it to her, he claims that he “assumed for the longest” that it would go to her husband, but it seemed the secret menagerie had a consciousness of its own, and he believed he heard the birds calling and crying her name, that he heard them call her: “E-li-za-beth-Vir-gin-Queen-of-England,” and he decided then that if it should come to pass that she should assume the crown as a maiden, unwed, he would leave a clause in his will which at that time would grant her sole proprietorship of the secret bird cave and menagerie, he said that he “he knoweth full well to what degree the birds are equally powerful as mercenary munitions, or the fittest and most moderne battalions of soldiers of the highest caliber,” and the most loyal and intelligent, but that it was exactly for this reason, he understood this much about the avian species, that he had to adhere to his obligation to the god of choice, and free will” and grant what his “conscience” felt, knew, the birds were “asking, demanding,” of him, otherwise “all in a matter of moments…” or as the bible says, “the twinkling of an eye, the entire world of man could be lost to the one of nature.”
When Elizabeth first saw the secret menagerie, she nearly fainted. She had known before her coronation as a teenager that birds were important for conveying messages and as compasses and for homing purposes.
But she didn’t know until after spending a few days worth of first hand experience with them how useful they were in forming plans and making decisions.
For instance, such as which members of her court she should advance or promote or demote, or send wherever.
After the first year with the birds, Elizabeth trusted them entirely, and this is because they had by this time communicated to her convincingly their awareness of their own importance in the grand scheme of the design of civilization from its origins thousands of years ago. They traced their own individual species and class identities’ lineage to various specific geographic locations appreciable on a map or globe (the Pigeons pointed to Egypt, the Toucans and Thrushes to the New World, the Gouldian Finches to Australia, the Mandarin Ducks to Japan), and the Pigeons informed Elizabeth about how their domestication and breeding process began with the pharaohs by helping her to translate certain hieroglyphic passages of the “book of the dead,” as well as to understand certain meanings of the Old and New Testaments of the Bible in Hebrew, Latin, and Greek, such as the idea that Jesus is aware he is taking his own life into his own hands, and that when the bible claims he says he “layeth down” his own “life in order to pick it up again,” he is talking about reincarnation, and this is the literal definition of what is alluded to as “the second coming,” but the editors and scribes of the Bible were made divinely aware by the Holy Spirit which guided the book’s composition over thousands of years, that readers would not be fully able to understand its message without being literate or without having individual and preferably personal access to their own legible (printed-out) translation of the Bible in their native language, so they would be convinced by their own witness of the book’s consistency, even its logical consistency and its emphatic consistency, as well as its relative consistency to relevancy in every moment/instance/individual occasion capturing in words what the voice of God appears like in the workings of nature, always seeming to be conversant with the witness/participant/identity to be realized as a goal during Elizabeth’s reign, that in this way, by education, and the birth of the publishing industry, her citizens could begin to reach an awareness of the literary concept of identity as having a notion of oneself that separates one from another.
The birds claimed to Elizabeth that they helped to influence the writing of the Bible, as one sign of evidence they cited their own feathers and the fact that in flight and with song that influenced and shaped the growth of verdure, they could keep track of the location of feathers and for what purposes they were used.
Elizabeth verified that Pigeons could read the alphabet as they claimed.
The birds also told Elizabeth they could influence human thoughts, because the specific pitches and frequencies of their songs could call to people’s memories the sound of revelations they had which the birds could read about in the lines of their faces, or which the people had seen, or could learn about in others, in the growth, texture, and movement of their hair, in the movements of their skeletal structures, and all thanks to people’s consumption of animals and the birds’ infinitely exhaustive process and system of chronicling in song and patterns in plant life as well as breeding and demarcations in mammal life, the consequences of the generations and generations of bird species.
She would wear and carry the birds under the skirts of her large dresses in a concealed manner, and they claimed credit for influencing the design of the fashions that would be in style by the time she was born. The told her she was destined to represent them to every other species in the universe, and that they were destined to belong only to her, and to God, forever.