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Unknown Binding
First published January 1, 1998
“Our grandfathers didn’t tie themselves to the land. In their endless migrations they didn’t practice commerce.”One might’ve thought the spirit world would intervene but they mostly seem content to let things play out although they do advice the leader to protect himself and with more than just an amulet:
“What need does a nomad have for commerce? What need do caravans of migrants have for goods?”
“This is the problem: you don’t want to acknowledge that we haven’t been nomads for a long time. You don’t want to admit that we’ve been bound to the land for forty years. You’ve forgotten the Law’s precept saying that to stay for more than forty days in one place is a mark of bondage to the land. What if the number forty modifies years, not days?”
“Anyone who ties himself to the earth becomes the earth’s slave. Any slave of the earth finds himself exchanging goods for a profit and becomes a merchant. Anyone who adopts commerce for his profession acquires the dust of misfortunes. Isn’t this what you’re trying to have me believe? Isn’t that what seduced you into hiding the hateful metal in your house?”
“Yes. I’ll never deny that I—like all the nobles—have smuggled gold dust into my home. I smuggled it in not because I yielded to its beauty, which enslaves women and weak-willed men, but because its possession affords security.”
“Security?”
“Yes, master. Gold dust in the owner’s hand is a gift of security. Gold dust is life’s secret for everyone who chooses agricultural land for a homeland.”
“I’m amazed by what I hear!”
“I would feel embarrassed walking among the people surrounded by bodyguards.”The book’s not long but I found it hard to read more than a chapter at a time. It was only its brevity that encouraged me to finish it. I really should avoid books like this because they clearly don’t agree with me. I wonder if this is perhaps a result of all the years I spent reading the Bible which was another book I failed to appreciate on an emotional level despite the fact there are some decent stories and the writing’s not bad either at times.
“Life is a gift more precious than specious shame, master.”
“Do you think the danger is this severe?”
“Life is a gift more precious than specious shame, master.”
While he traversed the eastern alleys that ran parallel to the blacksmiths’ market, the man was beside him. When the alleys ended at the temple plaza, however, he found that his companion had disappeared, as if the alleys’ shadows, which had spat him out, had returned to swallow him.