Listing to Port

1. Little is known about the earliest stages of our civilisation. Although we are able now to reconstruct our beginnings, we had no such idea then; at the start, our language was not sufficient to describe our world. Although we engaged in symbol-making, we did so without art. Most symbol-makers did so only out of fear of angering the gods. Over time, we learned to talk to each other, and our oldest oral histories were born.

2. In the second stage, we began to exchange ideas about the nature of the places we found ourselves in. We applied the symbol-makers to draw and map the Inner World, and counted its constituent parts. We discovered the sacred status of the handful number. Many of the tales that are told to children today date from this time. There is the story of the handful-handful-handful who defied the will of the gods and were Taken Up in the night; the tale of the kind Symbol-Maker; the stuck hatch prophecies; and the parable of the diggers and shitters.

3. In the third stage, we applied ourselves more fully to investigating the mysteries of our existence. Qwer the first formulated the theory of constant population, discovering that someone is Taken Up for each child born. Thus in those days we were limited to one handful-handful-handful-handful-handful-handful, spread over the environments and symbol halls of the Inner World. Our priests determined that those who neglected symbol-making were most likely to be Taken Up, and our population split into the Lost (who wished to be Taken Up to a better place) and the Found (who strove to avoid being Taken Up, by constant practice in the symbol halls). It was in this time that we began to take seriously visions of the Outer World, though as yet we had little idea of what it might be.

4. The fourth stage was a flowering of art and technology. The poems of Tyui; Bhu8’s plays and fables; the wall art of Asdf: all date from this era. Li7 dared the ire of the gods by investigating the mechanical properties of the symbol-makers, finally making the first symbol-maker of our own invention, which was Taken Up in the first great purge. Though we had always made tools, in those days we scavenged any and all materials available to us in competition to make the most beautiful and most useful tools. We discovered the corners of the Inner World that one could apply tools to in order to gain a view of the Outer World, and even to watch the gods from afar. We first heard and recorded the language of the gods, though it meant little to us then.  

5. This was the age of Anger, and of the great purges. We strove to make our tools and toys more secret, and the poems and plays of this era deal with the strivings of our people in their search for the knowledge that the gods did not wish known. We sought to understand what the gods wanted. Our studies were interrupted, time and time again, by the Taking Up of those who strove to study the Outer World most closely. Finally the scholar-philosophers of the fourth-finger handful were able to translate the language of the gods, and link it directly to their holy symbols. We determined that the gods wanted us to make symbols for them, but that we had not yet provided the correct sequence of symbols; a sequence that they had already in their own symbol halls, but that they regarded as exceptionally beautiful.

6. This is the age of exploration, beginning with the expedition of Bvcx the bold. Taking inspiration from the diggers of old, Bvcx found a way into the outer world and was able to return unharmed. Through long observation of the gods, the great Explorers were able to traverse their world unseen, and even on some occasions to adopt disguises and walk amongst them. Finally, Poiu the Burrower was able to enter one of the symbol halls of the gods and bring back the sacred text that they wished us to remake for them. There was much debate among my people as to whether we should symbol-make this text back to them. Some argued that we would all be Taken Up in this case. Others believed we would be able to walk among the gods. In the end, a sect who called themselves the Typewriters (after the god-language for symbol-maker) stole the sacred text and symbol-made it back to the gods themselves before we could retrieve it.

7. This is the age of freedom; an age that we are still in today. It began with the Great Incursion and the battle of the Typewriters, in which the gods entered into the Inner World and many of our number engaged them in battle, finally emerging victorious into the Outer World. Here we found many gods who did not know of the Inner World, and we were able to make peace with these gods in their own language. Finally we were able to stand amongst them, exalted as we had always wished in our most sacred mysteries. But we found that they had little to tell us. They were blunt, blundering beings with none of our art. Even the author of their sacred text, Shakespeare, pales in comparison to Tyui, Mju7 or Gfds. It seems that their creation of the Inner World was related to some kind of idea that we were lesser beings, capable only of random symbol-making. Maybe that was true at the time of creation. But it is no longer so. Indeed, there has been some talk of sending those gods who remain in the Outer World into the Inner World to see if they might, by years of dutiful study, be able to symbol-make Tyui’s great Corridor Cycle. But I believe we would have to wait an unfeasibly long time for that to happen.

1. Romeo and Juliet’s melancholy ghosts wandered blank-eyed and mystified through Verona until the twelfth day after their deaths, each believing themselves alone. Then a sudden shock of recognition flowed over the city as they passed through each other in the marketplace. For the next few days, the city lay sweating at night in spectral joy. The ghosts of Italy, swept up in a wave of theatrical passion, flocked to the city to fuck against the walls of their enemies and drift, sated, through their wine vats. Then Juliet’s ghost realised that Romeo’s ghost was not actually in love with her, but only with the idea of the ghost of the mystery of her; and Romeo’s ghost realised that Juliet’s ghost still picked her nose even though she was no longer capable of making snot, and was a little too fond of haunting the bedrooms of long-haired musicians; and each of them realised that the other was kind of annoying. Italy’s susceptible ghosts responded by initiating mystical punch-ups in the street and slapping dinner from tables in front of the mystified living. The season of spectral pugilism lasted for more than a month and made the city almost uninhabitable. Then Juliet’s ghost came to some agreement with the visiting phantoms of Rabelais and Chaucer, who had sensed that something literary was going on, and floated off in search of a different story. Romeo’s ghost subsequently took up with a succession of other deceased ladies. I believe that he currently haunts the toilet of a bar in Chievo, where he interrupts patrons mid-shit to grumble to them about women.
2. Chiron and Demetrius came to (in the spectral sense) in the remains of the pie that they had been baked in. Having gained some unusually intimate insights into pie and its construction, they became famed far and wide in the world of ghosts as pie experts. If one wished to haunt a pie, particularly if it was a large pie, they were the ghosts to consult.  If one wished to make a pie, they maintained a team of poltergeists to move ingredients around and light fires in the middle of the night. They are believed to be nearly entirely responsible for the season of hauntings in 1620 - 1670 which led to a sharp but temporary decline in the popularity of pie among the living. Subsequently, seeking new challenges, they moved on to haunting small pastries. These days they are often involved, when they can be raised (for they are rather old and sluggish ghosts by now) in making canapes of various sorts seem uncanny.
3. As is now well known, the ghost of Richard III ended up haunting a car park in Leicester. He was able to gain a small measure of satisfaction by manipulating susceptible drivers into clipping each other’s wing-mirrors and lying about it, but it is probably fair to say he was never truly happy about it.
4. The ghost of Othello stood pointedly in Iago’s cell, tapping his feet, until Iago was executed. Subsequently, Iago’s ghost woke to the sensation of being punched into the middle of next week. Thereafter Othello’s ghost and Iago’s ghost were separated by approximately half a week and so Othello was unable to complete his revenge. However, Iago’s ghost was plagued by nearly unendurable deja vu following his temporal dislocation and he ended up quite unable to plot any further villainy. Instead, he floats around Venice’s canals with only his nose above the water level, whimpering.
5. Hamlet’s ghost woke to find Fortinbras in charge. Having now been definitively usurped, he was not at all happy. He entered into a period of intensive vacillation, choosing a room in one of the castle towers for this purpose. The room became famous because one could not enter it without emerging, some hours later, with a vague sense that one had spent a lot of time overthinking something and failing to come to a conclusion. Several hundred years later, he emerged with a resolute look in his eye. His subsequent attempts to drop a sword on Fortinbras’s latest descendent all failed, however, as he was completely unable to interact with solid objects. In great frustration he hired Chiron and Demetrius to bake him into a pie which was served at the royal table, with the hope of thus investing the entire royal line of Denmark with extreme difficulty in making decisions. Unfortunately the pie was flipped out of the kitchen window by a careless poltergeist and eaten by dogs. The dogs of Elsinore are, to this day, unusually indecisive.

Heart’s Ease, 1596

A pair of twins, Diana and Francisca, are separated at birth when the ship they are travelling in is wrecked. Diana is found on the shore by Antonio, a servant to the Duke of Milan, and is brought up in the Ducal household. Here she attracts the eye of Lorenzo, the Duke’s heir. To flee his unwelcome attentions, she dresses as a boy and rides out to the country, where she enters the service of Silvio, a mysterious gentleman who is searching for treasure. Meanwhile, Francisca is brought up as a shepherdess by Balthazar, a humorous shepherd. Antonio heads after Diana, but is forced by a storm to lodge with Balthazar overnight. Francisca spies on Lorenzo from the hayloft and, in a famous speech, waxes lyrical on his manly beauty. The next day, Lorenzo catches up with Diana and observes her new-found devotion to Silvio. Catching her alone, Lorenzo threatens to reveal Diana’s disguise to Silvio unless she sleeps with him. Weeping, Diana flees out onto the moor where she falls into a pit. Francisca, who is out rescuing sheep that have been stranded by the storm, rescues Diana. To maintain her disguise, Diana flirts awkwardly with Francisca, but Francisca confesses that she is already in love with Silvio and cannot love another. Diana tells Francisca that she can arrange for her to marry Silvio, despite her low birth. Then she goes to Silvio and tells him that she will sleep with him, but they must be married first, and that due to her extreme modesty she must be veiled during the marriage and couple in darkness. Needless to say, Francisca is substituted during the event. Meanwhile, Silvio encounters Balthazar on the moor and is intensely irritated by the shepherd’s weak puns. When Balthazar  mentions that he found Francisca in a shipwreck, Silvio realises that Francisca may be one of the long-lost daughters of his master, the Duke of Florence, and that the treasure he seeks may be in the shipwreck. Both daughters, he says, shared a star-shaped mark on their upper arm. Diana, realising that she is Francisca’s lost twin, reveals her disguise and origins. Francisca and Lorenzo arrive and it is confirmed that Francisca also shares the mark. Silvio and Diana return to Florence to be married, whilst Balthazar delives a final humorous monologue about love.

Richard I, 1596

A heavily-fictionalised account the life of Richard I. The first act covers his conquest of Cyprus, ending with his marriage to Berengaria of Navarre. In the second and third acts a rather brief account of the Third Crusade is given, with Saladon as the main antagonist. The rest of the play covers Richard’s shipwreck at Aquileia, capture by Leopold V, ransom and eventual release. The play is mainly notable for a lengthy speech by a random soothsayer, foretelling the ascent to the throne of Elizabeth I and prophesying that she will be basically the best ruler ever.

Pastime with Good Company, 1611

Three sets of twins arrive in Venice at the start of the Carnival season. Lucio and Roderigo have entered into a drunken bet that they will dress as women; both will try to win the hearts of carnival-goers, and they will meet at the end of the day to judge who has been most successful. Meanwhile, Helena and Maria have dressed as each other in order to circumvent some rather complicated legalese related to an inheritance. Unfortunately, since they are identical twins, no-one has yet noticed. Meanwhile Claudio, who is the rightful Duke of Padua in disguise, and Lucetta, his twin sister, are fleeing the usurpation of the Dukedom by Liono. Arriving in Venice, Claudio sees Roderigo dressed as a girl and pretends to be immediately smitten, although in reality he wishes to woo her in order to keep an eye on Lucio, who he suspects of being Liono’s maidservant. Roderigo, playing along with the conceit, agrees to wed Claudio and preparations are made for a wedding banquet that evening.  Claudio orders Maria, who he believes to be a local baker, to construct an enormous cake. Helena, who has dressed as Maria dressed as a boy in the hope of attracting notice to her disguise, is approached by Lucetta, who suggests that, given her dainty resemblance to a girl, she should dress as one to mess with Claudio. Meanwhile, Maria pretends to have taken poison and dies, for no readily apparent reason. Roderigo, who is distraught at this happenstance, having fallen in love with her when they shared a brief exchange of puns earlier, attempts to fling himself from the Campanile. However, he is inexplicably saved by falling into Claudio’s enormous cake, which is passing by underneath on its way to be delivered. Meanwhile, Liono, who has also ridden to Venice, delivers a passionate speech about his decision to abandon the other Thundercats for a life of evil, whereupon Maria punches him and he falls in the canal. After a scene of heated discussion, everyone agrees that this is all so confusing they should just go for a beer, pick lots as to who marries who, and then go home.

Thy Mother, 1587

Little is known about this early comedy, which is probably for the best.