Welcome back to this journey through The Kolbrin.
We have arrived at The Sacred Registers – Part 2, which like the previous one, is a chapter in The Book of Scrolls. Now, this is a very short chapter, as is the next, The Sacred Registers – Part 3, so I’ll attempt to deal with them both in this single post. But beware! These and the following chapters contain some disturbing passages, and they are beautifully, eerily spooky.
It looks as if we have a change of scribe from the previous chapter, a chap who gives his name as Lavos, and he claims to be recording, in the language of the Sons of Fire, an address by Nadayeth the Enlightener (who was from the ‘twin cities’ whence the Sons of Fire came) to the so-called Learned Ones. The material for the speech derives from the writings of one Garmi, and the whole episode has the air of some kind of cultural or religious embassy about it. It’s almost as if Nadayeth, who apparently fled the ‘twin cities’ after he somehow upset its king, has arrived in a new land and is attempting to explain his own rites to the incumbent priesthood. It is extremely tempting to read into this an address by an exiled band of Egyptians (possibly from the ‘twin cities’ of Thebes; that is, the living and the dead cities on either side of the Nile) to the established learned elite of somewhere like Neolithic Britain – in other words, the Druids (and we’ll get to why that should be later in this post).
Nadayeth’s ‘pitch’ involves the rhetorical trick of employing the present tense to invoke a kind of current-action picture story in the minds of his audience. The result is very effective, and very haunting.
‘Behold this, ‘ he begins, inviting his audience on a mental journey with himself as tour guide ‘It is the Land of the Dawning’ – a kind of staging area between the Lands of Light and Darkness that exist beyond the Veil which separates them from the Land of the Living.
Our attention is directed to a recently departed being – whom the text calls the ‘Aspiring One’ and to whom I’ll refer from here on in as the ‘Aspirant’ – who is even now in a vessel on his way to judgement, accompanied by a beautiful maiden and an ugly man whose constant struggle with one another manages to capsize the boat. Once in the water, the beautiful woman attempts to drag the Aspirant down while the ugly man seeks to keep him afloat. Not expecting it to be this way around, the departed human struggles against the efforts of his would-be saviour until the beaching of the three on a ‘shining shore’ and the Light of Truth that shines on them there reveals the maiden to be a hideous hag and the man to be a handsome youth. In other words, Objective Reason finally dawns on the Aspirant and he can see good and bad for what they truly are. The Aspirant, of course, is absolutely distraught that he had been fighting against a force that was trying to save him – and that’s a pretty valid observation that relates to the rest of us, because how often do we shun good practices and healthy advice in favour of a superficial and short-term indulgence? How often do we ignore what our Objective Reason is telling us for the sake of temporary gain? How often do we not look below the surface to identify what is innately good and what innately bad?
But let’s get back to our image-story. A being called ‘The Beauteous One’ approaches the beached and abject Aspirant, attended by handmaidens and people from the Aspirant’s life who have already passed over. More importantly, the Aspirant’s soulself – his kohar – is also in the Beauteous One’s entourage, eager for the embrace of its other half that has had to endure an earthly existence during a lifetime of separation.
The Aspirant is still coming to terms with battling against the wrong being during the capsize and lies there immobile until The Beauteous One – a female – encourages him to stand and ‘cast away the residue’ of his mortality. He sits up and opens his eyes whereupon the Beauteous One ‘gives him his heart’ and, in a sentiment very similar to the Christian gospels, informs him that she has come so that he that was dead might live, he that was blind might see, and he that was deceived might know truth’. To this reassurance, the Aspirant’s kohar adds that it has come to embrace, protect, and shield him. It reminds the Aspirant that it is him, it is that part of him that has waited so patiently during his earthly life, seeing, hearing, feeling, experiencing everything that he has, and its function now is to provide a vessel for all that experience in this altered state of existence.
Next, Nadayeth introduces the arrival of The Herald. This being stands between the Aspirant and his kohar as they are led to the Hall of Judgement to be tested before The Lord of Life. We witness the arrival of the Lords of Eternity – aka. The Lesser Gods – as they enter the Gates of Splendour (and let’s take a second to remember, at this point, that this is all part of vivid recital by Nadayeth, so all these grandiose beings and Gates of Splendour and whatnot that he is conjuring out of thin air must have had his audience absolutely agog). Next on stage is The Balancer, who emerges from his ‘secret’ place (woo woo!) and then the Greeters of Darkness and Splendour take up position facing each other at their respective portals. There is even a crowd of ‘Welcomers’, a ‘compatible’ selection of the Aspirant’s departed mates hanging around, all waiting for the show to start. And what a show it turns out to be!
The Balancer brings into being what sound almost like two swirling tubes of ectoplasm, one on either side of the kohar. One morphs into the form of the earthly Aspirant, but it is hideously disfigured, reflecting as it does all his character flaws and misdeeds. The other, though, settles into something shiny and bright, reflecting the Aspirant’s goodness and spiritual aspirations. Then the two tubes flow into the kohar itself and yet another being – this time The Adjuster – adjusts and tweaks the kohar using the tools of justice and mercy until, finally, the kohar takes on its final appearance and the Aspirant and kohar become one, ready for the next step.
This particular Aspirant seems to tick enough of the right boxes (hooray!) and may pass through the right-hand (good) portal accompanied by his crowd of ‘Welcomers’ who are finally revealed in their true, shining forms as well, and there is much rejoicing. The ancient promises, says Nadayeth, are fulfilled: ‘He who departs shall return, he who sleeps shall awaken, he who dies shall live.’
But, suddenly, Nadayeth asks us to shift our focus back to Earth, back to the mummified cadaver vacated by the Aspirant we have just seen pass into glory, and things take on an altogether more sombre and eldritch tone.
It appears that the soul – for want of a better word – of the Aspirant wasn’t the only non-corporeal occupant of the physical body. There was also something called the Life Shadow – possibly some kind of residual ghostly energy – which will quite happily reside inside the mummified carcass as long as that carcass has been correctly purified and prepared. If not, the Life Shadow has a propensity to wander. The direct address to this Life Shadow, an entreaty to stay in, and protect, the tomb, is worth quoting at this point as it sounds like something straight out of an Edgar Allan Poe novel:
O Shadow, do not wander, remain within the tomb, seize any who come to steal, seize any who would break the body, seize any who would open that which is closed. Seize and haunt, seize and haunt!
We are then reassured by the still living companions of the dead man that the carcass of this particular Aspirant has been correctly prepared and purified and his Life Shadow is therefore well bound to the corpse by its ‘restraining thongs’ (phew!). The same companions then go on to reassure the living that the departed soul has not died but instead gone on to live elsewhere, and those left behind should not grieve or lament too deeply for that will only hinder the soul on its onward journey. Furthermore, a formulaic death-dirge must be sung whose echoes can be felt beyond the veil to alert the powers there that their friend is on his way, and the companions undertake to look after, and keep a semblance of life in the corpse (mummy) so that the Life Shadow is happy and will remain within it.
Nadayeth’s (by now, surely spellbound) audience are invited to gaze, in their mind’s eye, upon the frail remains lying in the tomb and to imagine that, were they able to see with the eyes of the spirit, they would be able to pierce the veil and see the immortal soul residing in the realm of glory.
And now it is time to go. ‘It is the time for parting,’ says Nadayeth, ‘the time for farewell, for the closing of the door.’ Part 2 of the Sacred Registers concludes with an entreaty to the departed one to help those left behind during their remaining time on Earth, and then we move on to Part 3.
Part 3 once again invites us to follow what is in Nadayeth’s cinema of the mind, but this time we zoom in on the living, in particular the son of the recently departed Aspirant.
We are asked to behold the approach of somebody who is probably a priest, clad in white sandals and fine linen, bearing the staff of righteousness along with some kind of ceremonial pearl. Others come – family members by the sounds of it – and a great feast is prepared, but this feast is for the living and not the dead; it is a feast to mark the end of lamentation and grieving.
The dead man’s heir then uses the vehicle of incense to call upon his departed father for protection from wandering Life Shadows, requesting specifically that he prevent any greeblies breaking out of his tomb to assail the living. ‘Safeguard the Dark Doorway,’ he implores, ‘So that things in vile forms come not near us to pollute our bodies with sickness and disease’, and into this, at least, I think, we can read that these ancient Egyptians of ours were well aware of the health dangers that putrefaction of the body can cause.
The next bit is also interesting as the heir recalls a judgement made by his father which obviously resulted in the execution and damnation to the Dark Realm of a miscreant. There is some fear that this miscreant and others from his evil place beyond the veil will revisit their place of earthly judgement and assail those still there, so the departed father’s assistance is sought to despatch guardians from amongst his own Glorious Company Beyond the Western Waters.
The feast continues as more people arrive, bearing all sorts of food and drink, and we are told that the departed father has, indeed, sought out guardians to protect his erstwhile people who should now, finally, wipe the last of the tears from their eyes.
Part 3 winds up with an invitation to any benevolent spirits hanging around the portals to come and join in the rejoicing, so that all can enjoy what there is to share, because, life, writes the scribe, is irrepressible.
But it is the very final statement by Nadayeth that is the most fascinating part of Parts 2 & 3, because he says:
These are things from a foreign place said for our brother Gwelm, according to the rights of the Sons of Fire, and thus it shall be for those who enter the chambers of stone.
Gwelm? That’s a suspiciously Brythonic Celtic sounding name, isn’t it? Surely this passage of the Kolbrin has been composed to invoke the image of a group of exiled Egyptians participating in the funeral rites for somebody from their new home (Neolithic, or even, Celtic Britain, perhaps) who may even have been initiated into their own brotherhood. We have the name, Gwelm, we have Nadayeth’s statement that the words he speaks are from a foreign culture (very obviously Egyptian) and we have (Neolithic) stone chambers, which are possibly meant to sound like the places where the Sons of Fire have set up shop.
So, what do we make of all that? Well, the Kolbrin in general has been heading down this Egyptian-Neolithic/Celtic Britain track for a while now, so we’ll have to see what later chapters bring in that regard, and the Egyptian funerary rite material, although containing many of the stock concepts, will need fleshing out at some stage, but it’s all getting quite fascinating.
As far as self-help advice is concerned, the big lesson in this post is our human blindness when it comes to identifying and sorting out what is good for us and what is bad for us. I guess that this boils down to exactly how honest with yourself you are capable of being, because, as usual, emotions – passions – tend to get in the way of everything.
It’s easy – when you’re young, anyway – to go for the flashy thing, the exciting thing, and overlook the plain and simple, but genuine option. Whether it’s the partner you choose, the job you accept, the friends you opt to hang out with, anything really, we frequently pass over the alternative that holds the power to make us truly happy, while the path we end up taking more often than not terminates in a messy dead end.
Another self-help lesson we can take from these episodes is the role of The Adjuster, the being that was allowed to tweak ‘using the tools of Justice and Mercy’ all the good and bad bits that had poured into the kohar at the time of judgement. Because, in my opinion, we all can play the role of Adjuster when it comes to how we form opinions on, and judge others. What I am suggesting here is, always make allowances for somebody’s behaviour if you can. Use your Reason to see beyond what they do and give them some leeway if they deserve it. Of course, it won’t always be possible – some people are, after all, unadulterated wrong ‘uns – but if you can find it in your heart to tweak your own attitude by applying justice and mercy when it is merited, the rewards are huge.
The next instalment will deal with Parts 4, 5 & 6 of The Sacred Registers where the Egyptian terminology becomes even more mixed in with that of another culture – so I hope to see you there.
