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runicloreFor my 302 class, we're supposed to select one of the assigned readings (usually a story, sometimes a poem) and try to do whatever that author is doing, but with our own stories. This one was based on "Ten Illustrations for 'The Fall of the House of Usher'" by Robert Gluck. Though I think I pinpointed what the story was doing (in short, taking one line from the story and extrapolating from there based on the text), I didn't pull it off as well myself. This is expected. These are exercises, and not polished pieces ready for publication. Alas.
........................
From Joseph and Asenath
(The Apocryphal Old Testament, H. F. D. Sparks, ed.)
4.10. So come, my child, and I will give you to him as his wife: you shall be his bride, and he shall be your bridegroom for ever."
To Asenath her tower at the center of Heliopolis was the center of the world, and the city stretching its dusty fingers to the desert was the crown of Ra, who was born at the heart of a lotus flower just as she was born at the throbbing heart of his great temple city. Of men as great as her father, there were none. She kept this heartfelt heresy close in her heart, knowing the jeweled eyes that glittered back at her from the altar saw nothing beyond the unblemished surface of her skin.
Her father's excitement at the prospect of passing her hand to Joseph is a betrayal worse, in some ways, than the moment she knew the gold figures on her table were merely metal. She had dared to despise the Prince of Egypt when rumor whispered that he desired her hand, but any man of the ancient line bested a slave out of Canaan. When she spat this response to her father, he merely sighed. It was, of course, the truth.
Asenath spun and ran back to her chambers, and the stairs were punishment in their own right, reaching so high. Ra waited on the altar, staff in hand, yet she did not pray. Gold had power, but not the influence to shape her father's will.
She cursed Joseph's coming bitterly and leaned on the sill to watch for the arrival of this slave from the east who turned Pharoah's ear with his talk of dreams. The words died, shriveling on her tongue when he passed through the gate, left his carriage, and offered her a glimpse of his countenance, bright as the sun.
..................
14.1: And as Aseneth finished her confession to the Lord, lo, the morning star rose in the eastern sky.
Asenath fasted for eight days, smeared with ashes and tears, and denying the comforts of her rich chambers, even of water. Every word uttered against Joseph seemed a brand burning on her skin, lit dull red by the heat of the light in his eyes. The hand that kindled such flame was greater even than the sun.
When her tears were spent and her voice nearly gone, she uttered a final confession to the power greater than the sun, clinging to little faith that her whisper would be heard. She knew her own mortality. She faced the east window to beg for his preservation, having faced that direction to pray in the morning for her entire life. Her prayer was offered to the slate blue sky which seemed so fine, suddenly, than the bare expanse of her tower chamber. The stars gleamed brighter than gold, and the blue expanse deeper than lapis. When a star rose and it shattered into bits of piercing light, Asenath cried out and cowered with her arms over her head, thinking still in the recesses of her mind that no temple treasure was ever so sublime.
A voice like her father's called, over and over: Asenath, Asenath, and she lifted her head with trepidation to gaze upon a star given flesh, whose human-seeming form outshone even Joseph by a narrow margin. Take heart, Asenath, and do not be afraid.
She could only cower and say to herself: This is the hand of God. The Lord has heard my confession.
........................
From Joseph and Asenath
(The Apocryphal Old Testament, H. F. D. Sparks, ed.)
4.10. So come, my child, and I will give you to him as his wife: you shall be his bride, and he shall be your bridegroom for ever."
To Asenath her tower at the center of Heliopolis was the center of the world, and the city stretching its dusty fingers to the desert was the crown of Ra, who was born at the heart of a lotus flower just as she was born at the throbbing heart of his great temple city. Of men as great as her father, there were none. She kept this heartfelt heresy close in her heart, knowing the jeweled eyes that glittered back at her from the altar saw nothing beyond the unblemished surface of her skin.
Her father's excitement at the prospect of passing her hand to Joseph is a betrayal worse, in some ways, than the moment she knew the gold figures on her table were merely metal. She had dared to despise the Prince of Egypt when rumor whispered that he desired her hand, but any man of the ancient line bested a slave out of Canaan. When she spat this response to her father, he merely sighed. It was, of course, the truth.
Asenath spun and ran back to her chambers, and the stairs were punishment in their own right, reaching so high. Ra waited on the altar, staff in hand, yet she did not pray. Gold had power, but not the influence to shape her father's will.
She cursed Joseph's coming bitterly and leaned on the sill to watch for the arrival of this slave from the east who turned Pharoah's ear with his talk of dreams. The words died, shriveling on her tongue when he passed through the gate, left his carriage, and offered her a glimpse of his countenance, bright as the sun.
..................
14.1: And as Aseneth finished her confession to the Lord, lo, the morning star rose in the eastern sky.
Asenath fasted for eight days, smeared with ashes and tears, and denying the comforts of her rich chambers, even of water. Every word uttered against Joseph seemed a brand burning on her skin, lit dull red by the heat of the light in his eyes. The hand that kindled such flame was greater even than the sun.
When her tears were spent and her voice nearly gone, she uttered a final confession to the power greater than the sun, clinging to little faith that her whisper would be heard. She knew her own mortality. She faced the east window to beg for his preservation, having faced that direction to pray in the morning for her entire life. Her prayer was offered to the slate blue sky which seemed so fine, suddenly, than the bare expanse of her tower chamber. The stars gleamed brighter than gold, and the blue expanse deeper than lapis. When a star rose and it shattered into bits of piercing light, Asenath cried out and cowered with her arms over her head, thinking still in the recesses of her mind that no temple treasure was ever so sublime.
A voice like her father's called, over and over: Asenath, Asenath, and she lifted her head with trepidation to gaze upon a star given flesh, whose human-seeming form outshone even Joseph by a narrow margin. Take heart, Asenath, and do not be afraid.
She could only cower and say to herself: This is the hand of God. The Lord has heard my confession.