Bildungsromans; Christian women saints -- Fiction; Egypt -- Fiction; Mary, of Egypt, Saint -- Fiction; Picaresque fiction
“The Bible, my son, and especially the books of Moses, contains grand
and useful verities. Such an opinion may appear absurd and unreasonable,
in consequence of the treatment the theologians have inflicted on what
they call the Scriptures, and of which they have made, by means of
their commentaries, explications, and meditations, a manual of errors,
a library of absurdities, a magazine of foolery, a cabinet of lies, a
gallery of stupidities, a lyceum of ignorance, a museum of silliness,
and a repository of human imbecility and wickedness. Know, my son, that
at its origin it was a temple filled with celestial radiance.
“I have been fortunate enough to re-establish it in its primal
splendour. Truth obliges me to acknowledge that Mosaïde has very much
assisted me with his deep comprehension of the language and the alphabet
of the Hebrews. But let us not lose sight of our principal subject.
Be informed from the outset, my son, that the sense of the Bible is
figurative, and that the capital error of the theologians was to take
it literally, whereas it is to be understood as symbolical. Follow this
truth in the whole course of my discourse.
“When Demiurge, who is commonly called Jehovah, and by many more names,
as all terms expressing quality or quantity are generally applied to
him, had, I do not want to say ‘created’ the world--for such would be
an absurdity--but had laid out a small corner of the universe, as a
dwelling place for Adam and Eve, there were some subtle creatures in
space, which Jehovah had not formed, was not capable of forming. They
were the work of several other demiurges, older and more skillful. His
craft was not beyond that of a very clever potter, capable of kneading
clay beings in the manner of pots, such as we men are now. What I say is
not to slight him, because such work is still much beyond human power.
“But it became necessary to brand the inferior character of the work of
the seven days. Jehovah worked, not in and with fire, which alone gives
birth to the masterpieces of life, but with mud, out of which he could
not produce other than the work of a clever ceramist. We are nothing,
my son, but animated earthenware. Jehovah is not to be reproached for
having illusions over the quality of his work. If he did find it well
done in the first moment, and in the ardour of composition, he did not
take long to recognise his error, the Bible is full of expressions of
his discontent, which often becomes ill-humour, sometimes actual rage.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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