Not the End: Life Isn't Over Until It Is Over, page 1
Special thanks to Brennan Bowen, for his invaluable help in making this... the best possible English version of “Y colorin...”
Gracias Brennando
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To
Sara, Angelita y Marivi.
To
Odette y Natasha.
To
Guille, Mónica, Rosalba, Sara Citlali,
Carolina, Maru y doña Bety.
To
Lonchis y Martha.
To
Verónica, Erika M., Erika R., Tamra, Lizzete, Andrea, Angélica, Fabiola, Adela, Jana, Lilia, Luly, Marcia, Jessica, Carmen, Noemí, Dalilah, Perla, Luzma, Ursula, Adriana, Karmen, las Dacias, Jakie, Rosi F., Chelín, Tania, Mary Paz, Rocío, Iris, Pía, Beatriz, Thaily, Cynthia, Mariana, la Sheraton y Coty.
To
Marisol y Rosy.
Rosa Martha y Coca.
To
Miss Lupita, Susana, Grace, Margarita, doña Marcia, Ana María, Sofi, Fany, Christi, Lilí, Titis, Rosy y Martha R.
And to all the other princesses I’ve found in the course of my life. And also, for those who I haven’t met yet, but not for that they stop being, at heart, authentic princesses.
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
To Marisol and César
My dearest Lambreton
Prologue
It is with unquestionable talent that the author of this fascinating book describes the structure of what is ostensibly a fairy tale. Through a cluster of beautiful introspective and insightful metaphors, he also manages to guide us along the path of self-knowledge, as the cornerstone of emotional maturity and, ultimately, existential wisdom.
This whole process is depicted in realistic terms, appealing to fantasy only to give a sort of allegorical dressing that allows us to understand the inner drama of those who dare to look inside being characters of a script, written by historical circumstances, that derive from emotional learning in childhood, which is full of inertia and prejudices. These undermine one´s judgment, and don´t allow us to question why we think as we do.
In a certain way, the story relates the painful and, at the same time, wonderful transition from prejudice to independent judgment, and also from alienation to sensibleness and thus, the assumption of the command of one´s existence.
Cognos ipsi (know yourself) is the fundamental key.
If we try to understand our personal family background, we can realize how some features of our personality are ruled by what we have learned in a passive mode, and how this criterion is no longer useful once we grow up.
We are the writers but also the main characters of our own lives. Whether we are aware of it or not, we constantly play the game of being both the Dragon and the Princess. Our fate is mainly a consequence of the decisions we make, regardless of the motivational sources.
From a literary point of view, this is an excellent narrative that leads the reader along the trails of truth, beauty and goodness.
It traces the routes of subjective landscapes and potential for introspection (Epiphany vs. serendipity).
Seen from another perspective, this is also a tale of “quantum physics” because of its capacity to explain that our destiny is neither immutable nor predetermined. Quite the opposite, the more we learn about ourselves, the better we can modify our future.
If most of our choices are founded on realistic judgment, it is reasonable to expect a favorable outcome.
Not the End reminds us of the unavoidable fact that each and every one of us can become an assertive author of our own life, instead of being passive observers of our existence.
Dr. Federico San Román
It was a very cold night, perhaps the coldest of all nights. Odai was sitting by the window of the highest tower in the castle, gazing at the stars, wearing only a translucent, blue, gauzy dress. Just like every other night, she hoped for the miraculous sign she longingly awaited. She dreamt of what her life could be if only the sign would come.
The sound of the slamming tower door and the approaching footsteps up the great stairwell leading to her room brought her back to reality.
“Here he comes again,” she thought in anguish.
The door opened and The Great Black Dragon of Fear reared its head.
“What are you doing, Princess?” asked the dragon with his icy, imposing voice tinged with suspicion and doubt, very characteristic of black dragons of fear.
“I’m waiting for the sign so I can get out of here,” answered Odai, timid before the presence of the dragon.
The dragon roared with great force, “You must not leave! You cannot leave until you are certain that you´ve seen the sign.”
“But there has to be a way,” said Odai in desperation.
The dragon stared at her for a while. His red eyes, dramatically contrasting against his black body, stood out noticeably in the center of his black face. Odai always felt intimidated in his presence.
“Someone very important,” said the dragon, “went through a lot of trouble to put you under my care. I am the best of keepers.”
“But you can’t keep me locked in here forever!”
“You will not leave until you have understood the sign!” The Great Black Dragon of Fear roared frighteningly. Odai was petrified.
“There are many, many dangers out there!” concluded the Dragon as he turned to leave.
“But, I...”
“There are many dangers out there and you will stay here.” The Dragon of Fear left, slamming the door behind him. There was no sound of a key turning, or a lock clicking, nothing to prevent the door from being opened. The Dragon of Fear knew that Odai was too frightened to even try to escape.
And so Odai went back to the window to gaze at the stars. She sighed deeply and, again, waited anxiously for the sign. It was a very cold night, perhaps the coldest of all nights.
THE END.
Hold it!
Excuse me?
I said hold it! Is that all? Am I going to spend the rest of my life sitting by the window in the tower just waiting for the sign?
Well, I...
You always tell the same story. Exactly the same story and here I am hopefully waiting for it to change one day. That one day the damn sign will appear, that there will be a shooting star, a lunar eclipse, or at least a sunrise, but no, noooooo! Do you know that this is a very cold night, perhaps the coldest of all nights? Oh! But of course you do! You’re the writer and you repeat it in the story... TWICE!
That brings the story to a full circle.
What do I care about full circles? I don´t even know what a full circle is! I’m tired, annoyed, bored and freezing to death... and you want to know why? Cause this night is not only a very cold night, it’s not even perhaps the coldest of all nights... it’s downright freezing! And I’m sitting here, wearing a translucent, blue, gauzy dress. For the love of God! Couldn’t you have at least written me a blanket?!
This way the reader understands your suffering.
I have a better way for the reader to understand my suffering. Reader... I’M IN AGONY! Not only am I waiting for the sign that hasn’t come, and probably never will, not only am I locked away in a tower that’s as high as... how high is the tower?
I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it.
You’re the writer and you haven´t really thought about how high the tower that you locked me in is?
I just imagine it as being very high.
Well just how high is very high, exactly?
I don’t know... three hundred feet.
...Do you know anything about architecture?
No.
I can tell. Let me peek out of the window to find out. You narrate, which is the only thing you seem to know how to do.
Okay... umm... so, Odai looked out of the window.
Thank you...hmmm -- she hesitated. No, I didn’t hesitate! I’m holding on to the handrail. Sor-ry. Let’s say fifty feet.
Alright, then it’s fifty feet.
Well, as I was saying: not only am I waiting for the sign that hasn’t come, and probably never will, not only am I locked fifty feet high in a tower, not only is The Black Dragon of Fear watching my every move, I’m also FREEZING! Do you think that if the night were, let’s not even say warm... let’s say... coolish. Do you think that if it were a coolish night, the reader wouldn’t understand my suffering? Do you think the reader is stupid? Hmmm... let’s see, this poor princess is locked away in a tower, her mother disappeared, she spends every night waiting for a sign that never comes, her life is constantly under the watchful eye of The Black Dragon of Fear, who has, to quote the author “red eyes, dramatically contrasting against his black body, and standing out noticeably in the center of his black face.” And also, quoting the author, “speaks with his icy, imposing voice tinged with suspicion and doubt, very characteristic of black dragons of fear.” But the night is coolish! I´m sure she’s not having thaaaat bad of a time.
I’m sorry. I never thought that the story would affect you so much.
Ohhh, he never thought that the story would affect me so much. He never thought that the story would affect me so much?! Did you read that, Reader? Put yourself in my shoes, dear reader, for just one moment. Imagine that you’re trapped someplace, frightened to death, wishing you could do something to change your life, but you don’t dare to because you don’t know what will happen. And you anxiously await the sign that will give you the confidence you need to get out and live. Have you ever felt that way? Well, that’s exactly how I feel every single night... forever and ever. But today, I´m fed up and I’m going to do something about it... so this is NOT THE END! ...And you, writer... narrate!
Umm okay. So... the Princess, who was clearly very upset with her current situation...
I’m FED UP!
That is... the Princess who was clearly FED UP with her current situation, mustered up the courage and... walked over to the door?! Hey! You can’t do that!
I do what I please and you narrate. Is that clear?
She slowly placed her hand on the doorknob and tried to open the door, but it was locked.
Oh, don´t give me that nonsense! On the last page you specifically said, “There was no sound of a key turning, or a lock clicking, nothing to prevent the door from being opened. The Black Dragon of Fear knew that Odai was too frightened to even try to escape.” You can’t contradict yourself. Unless you’re one of those writers who makes up absurd things out of thin air.
And the door opened. Thank you. And Odai walked out.
She ran down the stairs, skipping steps so quickly that she tripped, fell, and rolled all the way to the bottom.
Damn it!
When she looked up, she realized that she had landed at the dragon’s feet. Told you so! The dragon looked at her furiously... actually, he was rather shocked.
“What’s going on here?” asked the dragon furiously. What’s going on here? -- Well... said the dragon, troubled.
Nothing. I’ve just decided to get out of here.
But you can’t do that.
That’s what I’ve been telling her.
Who said that?
I did, the writer/narrator of the story.
What’s going on here? -- asked the dragon, who was now very upset.
Let’s not fail to mention that he’s backed up against the wall and looking frantically around him. The Dragon was scared.
VERY scared! What do you mean you’re getting out of here? What do you mean the narrator? I’m not getting any of this!
Dragon, aren’t you tired of always going up to the tower to say the same intimidating phrases that you know will paralyze me over and over again? Aren’t you tired of keeping me locked up without either of us being able to do something with our lives?
I hadn’t thought about it.
Well, of course you hadn’t thought about it. The only thing you think about is keeping me locked up.
But that’s what I’m supposed to do. Somebody very important asked me to keep an eye on you.
Keeping an eye on me is okay, but you don’t have to keep me locked up for eternity.
But there are terrifying things out there! You can’t go out just like that.
The whole point of the story is that you can’t leave because you’re trapped by fear.
Can you please tell him to shut up? He’s scaring me.
How can a huge, black dragon with red eyes… and with an icy, imposing voice tinged with suspicion and doubt be so easily frightened? You made him The Dragon of Fear, remember? Ugh, I hope that my other stories don’t start acting up.
Tell him to shut up! Shouted the frightened dragon, shutting his eyes and covering his face like a child. Hey! I’M the narrator here, okay? Okay, okay. Tell him to shut up! -- shouted the frightened Dragon, shutting his eyes and covering his face like a child.
Okay -- concluded the Princess. -- From what I can see, fear isn’t as strong or as scary as they make it out to be, or in this case, as they write it to be. Look, Dragon. What do you think about us both leaving and looking for... whatever it is that’s outside this castle?
But there are terrifying things out there -- said the frightened dragon.
How do you know that?
The dragon was about to answer... but shut his eyes again in fear. Oh, please! Come on, Dragon! Don’t be afraid of him. He’s just the writer who has to narrate. He won’t harm you.
The dragon opened his eyes. You won´t harm me? No. Do you swear? I swear. Okay, I believe you, but I’m watching you. Got it? Got it.
Alright, back to the story... Dragon, how do you know that there are terrifying things out there?
I don’t know... I’ve been told.
You’ve been told by whom?
I’ve... been told... by... myself.
And why have you been telling yourself that?
Uh... out of... habit?
You mean you’ve never been outside this castle?
Umm... no.
Why not?
Because there are terrifying things out there! I’m not getting through to you, am I?
But there’s no way to know if you’ve never been outside -- said the princess, trying to get him to understand. -- And you can’t just sit around, assume, and do nothing about it. We have to leave -- said the princess decisively.
Where to?
It doesn’t matter. We’re just going to leave, and that’s it. We’re going to be daring.
But what about the sign?
There is no sign.
But we need the sign so that we can leave! -- yelled The Dragon of Fear fearfully.
Alright, alright, don’t get so upset. The sign... the sign is... -- Odai thought -- the sign is... life itself! As easy as that. If we’re here, if we’re alive, I’m sure it’s not to stay locked up. Life, itself, is the sign that we can leave. That we MUST leave! Do you get that, Dragon?
Umm... no.
It doesn’t matter. I get it for the both of us. That’s the sign, alright? Let’s go.
Okay, if you say so... let’s go.
And they headed towards the door. Is he coming with us? He has to; he’s the narrator. I’m the writer. He’s the writer. Alright, but I got my eye on you. You don’t have anything to worry about. I’ll worry if I want to. Well, you’ll worry in vain. I’ll worry in whatever way I want to worry! Can we go now? -- asked the Princess, interrupting the ridiculous dispute, and they walked out of the tower.
The night was very cold, perhaps the coldest of all nights. The princess gave the narrator a hostile look. Couldn’t you switch it up, just for once? The night was very cold, but the princess felt such a warm enthusiasm emanating from her heart that she wasn’t aware of the cold.
But it’s freezing!
On the other hand, the fearful dragon was trembling against the incessant wind that bore into his bones.
Don’t worry, Dragon, everything’s going to be okay.
They reached the main gate of the castle; a huge, forged steel structure stood before them, and behind it, the infinite darkness of the night... and freedom.
Princess... -- whispered the Dragon fearfully, as if someone were watching. -- We’re outside the tower, we’re at the huge, forged steel structure that’s the main gate of the castle. We’ve already said that we’re going out into the world, but, mmm... couldn’t we spend the last night inside the castle? So that it’s not so dark out there when we leave?
The princess wasn’t listening; her hands gripped the black, steel bars, as her eyes stared out at the deepness of the night, while the freezing wind played with her long, dark hair.
Princess... Princess...
I heard you, Dragon. Don’t worry, we’ll spend the night here.
The dragon let out a sigh of relief and eagerly looked for a warm corner, away from the wind, where he could lay down. The princess followed and laid down next to him, resting her head on one of his enormous paws. As soon as the dragon put his head on the floor, he knocked out. But Odai couldn’t bring herself to fall asleep.
