Other
thoughts of love - II -
Captain Hook in
mainland
Captain
Hook is a strange man. Since when he left the sea he has become
touchy. He does not love keeping in touch with the others. He
prefers the seductive power of his absence. The messages closed
by the sealed-wax are his passion: they weaken the thoughts, they
change the feelings, they reduce the risks...
His castle is similar to his vessel, left in roadstead in front
of the port of the 'Neverland': the crocodiles lie always in
ambush, he has to defend himself against intrigue. The faithful '
Smee' is still in the tale: without him the battle against Trilly
has an uncertain outcome.
Prying eyes are hidden everywhere, run along the walls of the
secret tunnels and disturb the lonely pirate. The concealed
passages are a trap, a modern devilish device more dangerous than
a gunpowder barrel.
Private vices and
public virtues
Captain Hook was looking at the water
chopping for the crocodile presence. He was wrapped in his red
redingote with the golden profiles. The laces of his muslin white
shirt tickled his chin.
' Where is? Where is that damn? Everything was all right, body of
thousand whales!!!! All this trouble due to a wrong course. All
had been perfectly arranged but..... nothing. And, to worsen the
situation, this new pair of shoes: shiny, with a glowing buckle,
a refined touch but.... tight, by Jove, nailed to my feet like
hooves. I need a footbath!!! But...I must even keep watch on the
crocodile, that cursed beast. Smee...!?! Oh God, how hard can be
the life....and there's not a breath of wind! '
' After so many troubles, when everything seemed arranged, every
goal reached.....ehm...ok... a hook in place of a hand but.....at
the end it's only a detail....., for this damned clockseating
animal all seems to vanish. I must absolutely find the way to put
a gun ball in its throat! But, with God's will, may the alarm
clock not start to ring! .....Even the moustaches revolt against
me: both untidy, a disaster!
The sleepless night of our worried pirate
was disturbed by these unpleasant thoughts. ' I want to play
backgammon and to be left in peace!!!' He said. 'I have to be
very careful.....Nobody shall discover me, no matter what
happens! Here is all under my responsibility, I can't leave
anything to chance!
Ok, Morgan is more fascinating and brave than me - I do have to
admit it - but he has no reputation to defend. He doesn't care,
he has no obligations to the others. For me it's different: I
made agreements with the Viceroy...., so I can't absolutely waste
time in chattering.
I, I, I, always I.....Sometimes I'm so concentrated on me that I
get even bored of myself...but what can I do? Things are like
that and won't change. The daughter of Black Corsair has always
considered me just a swelled head - the devil take her! - and now
I 'll give her a demonstration of how determined I can be. Well,
in the meantime I have captured that silly Trilly and now she's
locked up in her cage like a Canarian parrot. I'm keeping a close
watch on her ....She won't get out from the hold so easily!!!!
Why should I worry about that? ...I have only carried out my
duty.... Perhaps, to tell the truth, if I go on repeating it to
everybody, someone could notice me: probably it would be better
for me to slip off....'
There is no peace for our Captain, attending to protect his small world. Miles away from here, across the Oceans on the route for Antigua, Morgan and Jolanda were laughing at Hook's misfortunes. In their imagination that diligent and a bit vain pirate was surely absorbed by measuring with nervous steps, in a night without moon, the main deck of his beloved vessel.
Literary fiction freely inspired by the book: J.M.Barrie, Peter Pan (1906)
Online Literature Library - J. M. Barrie - The
Adventures of Peter Pan Peter and Wendy
Gallery for a love
Homage to
John William Waterhouse (1849-1917)
John William Waterhouse - Comprehensive
painting gallery Artmagick
The
art and life of john William Waterhouse
The rippled sea has calmed down. The words have lost their sound: they refer to thoughts too intangible to become life. It's just like getting lost in a labyrinth and ending up to a crossroad: you have to wait for a signal because there is no equivalence between the roads. The escape way is somewhere but the right route is unknown. The labyrinth is a game of trick mirrors, of progressive acknowledgments: everything may happen. To times you can find a passage, walk backwards, return behind, go on quickly, remain hidden in a blind alley for an unforeseeable time. Then, all at once, a direction is chosen and, without knowing it, you journey far away.