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496 pages, Unknown Binding
Published January 1, 1986

SK is like a river. Its waters come from streams, brooks, drains, irrigation channels and tributaries... Some of the waters leave this river, never to return; others unexpectedly reintegrate themselves downstream... And all is mixed and circulated, chaotic, indiscernible... until the sea.
The geography: the static, perpetual, unchanging thing we were told about at school will be altered entirely. Names will be changed, longitudes and latitudes turned upside down, the landscapes and distances lengthened or cut short... All will be what it is, while simultaneously being something else entirely.
SK demonstrates the indetermination, relativity, inexactness, possibility, etc. of a world that has long wanted to present itself to us as logical, mathematical and unalterable... When it is not.
The actors: they are real beings; uprooted from the purest damned reality and who, set forth on this immense altarpiece, act antihistorically. They are beings the lives of whom have transcended their hidebound, miserable condition and who, through their acts and words, are now - hidden yet still visible - those they wished to be or could have been.
The other meeting is with a fellow called Ribas Barefoot (Descalç) who is compelled to crawl on hands and knees (antithetically to the upright-walking vampire dog) because of the damaged sacrum. The boy accompanies him to the house of the local alchemist Xarina in whose underground laboratory the ailing man hopes to regain the ability to walk normally. Xarina’s cellar with its alchemist and Kabbalistic incunabula, specimen jars, apothecary pots, astrological charts, owls and bats flying at large, and other esoteric paraphernalia is the source of two great dangers to humanity: atomic energy and Nazi apologia. The former lurks in the melting pot Atanor, in which Xarina hopes to generate wine that will never inebriate the drinker, but which, according to the great Jewish prophet Albert, will produce an alchemical egg with a terrible infant inside capable of transforming the whole world into a ball of fire. The latter threat is posed by the beer bottle with the soul of Erik Jan Hanussen, occultist and Hitler’s clairvoyant adviser. After a healing ritual interrupted by the restless Anamorphus, Ribas can stand again but is incapable of sitting down. In order to find out the solution to this problem, Xarina consults three talking heads (they might have served as the model for the prophetic head in Miquel de Palol’s novel "Igur Nebli"): the Cybernetic Head fabricated from leather by Gerbert of Aurillac, better known as Pope Sylvester II, the Celtic Head of a mummified druid presented to Xarina by the French alchemist Eugene Canseliet, and the Peabrained Head (Cap Cigrany) that used to belong to some local denizen. Believing that by giving the heads wine, he will be able to obtain valuable knowledge, Xarina provokes havoc as a result of which he ends up drinking the beer with the trapped soul of the Führer’s psychic and becomes Hhaannuusseenn-Xarina, the future personal magician of the autochthonous Führer Nemesius.
In the light of a blurry full moon amidst the ghostly fog and in the company of skull-like stars, inhabited by evil thoughts, they arrived at the deepest point of the crater-puddle, the enormous, formless centre, the rotten heart of Jobville. Putrefactive materials, dried excrement, menstrual rags, placentas and aborted babies were being burnt everywhere in macabre fires that smoked out the smoky shadows. Night was day for the Jobville insane, and the no-space (no-streets, no-squares) were filled with half-naked spectres and utterly degenerate, infected whores who emerged from the brothels and venereal hospices in search of illusory food. From a recess where the stinking smoke made breathing impossible, a reptilian voice muttered: “If my eyes do not fail me, I would swear you are Gigi. But you are very well-dressed, like an Amazon Queen or Valkyrie and accompanied by a most handsome youth.” They turned and saw some manner of human mummy, nude and wrinkled.
“Hello, Asheverus!” said Kamil-la-Gigi-Minne.