City of Saints and Madmen Part 17
CONTENTS.
I WHAT THE SQUID IS NOT.
II WHAT THE KING SQUID IS.
III EXPOUNDING WITH BREVITY ON THE.
PECULIARITIES OF SQUID LORE.
IV DIVULGING AN ACCURATE SCIENTIFIC THEORY.
THAT EXPLAINS A NUMBER OF OTHERWISE.
PUZZLING THINGS THAT HAVE LONG PREYED.
UPON THE MIND OF THIS WRITER.
(AND A VISION).
About the Author: Born on the Madnok family estate 33 years ago, Frederick Madnok has, in his interests, long mimicked his ill.u.s.trious ancestors. His father, James Madnok, was the author of several books on the study of mushrooms; his scientific bent fostered an early love of a.n.a.lysis in his son. His mother, Henrietta Madnok, served as the choir leader and Home Matron of the local branch of the TruffidianChurch. Her devotion to spiritual matters instilled in him the discipline to pursue his interests in Squidology. The presence of squid mills on the family property no doubt fed his curiosity as well.
An excellent student at the BlytheAcademy, Frederick graduated with high honors and a degree in general biology (no squidology degree being available at that time). Despite a brief flirtation with ill.u.s.tration and cartoons, he soon found himself in the field observing the King Squid in its natural habitat. Several of his more interesting observations have been published in chapbook, pamphlet, and broadsheet form (refer to the bibliography for more information). After the sale of his family's estate at the age of 27 and following a series of misfortunes, Frederick eventually regained the seclusion necessary to expand upon his studies and his writings. For the past four years, the generosity of his current benefactors has allowed him to make the important discoveries set out in this monograph.
I - WHAT THE SQUID IS NOT.
INTRODUCTION.
IT IS A SAD BUT INCONTROVERTIBLE FACT THAT the world stands in profound ignorance of the King Squid-and the related festival. Although some might say that more has become known of this creature than evidenced by the mistakes contained in a few naturalist guides published abroad, I am not among their number. To my wandering eye, such errors of fact have multiplied, as have the inaccurate estimates of the number of the King Squid's tentacles. Firstly, squid have both tentacles and arms. Secondly, the arms do not number five, six, seven, nine, ten, or, most absurdly, fourteen-as suggested by the no doubt severely landlocked Dr. Alfred Kubin, a man who probably also thinks he himself has seven arms and no leg to stand on. The correct number of squid limbs is ten-eight arms and two tentacles- and it is from the foundation of this tenant of fact that all else in this inst.i.tution shall build. The tentacles, of course, distinguish themselves from the arms by their ingenious hooks, with which they grip prey in a manner improbable for the arms.
From these examples, and such grievous ignorables as "squid is my favorite kind of fish," a statement I overheard Madame Tuff's farctated daughter proclaim from an adjacent table in the cafeteria just last Thursday, it should be clear that before we approach the mad misconceptions of the Festival's history and a.s.sociated customs, we must first disperse current layperson fogginess about the squid itself. 1 Firstly, the squid does not "lay its eggs on the banks of the muddy River Moth in the Spring, whence they hatch in late Autumn and pull themselves by means of proto-tentacles and their sc.r.a.ppy little beaks into the water" as has been suggested by the jarkman Leo Pulling in his c.r.a.pulous treatise "An Account of the Squidlings' First Hours by the Banks of the Great River," published in that soggy sack of lies known as The Ambergris Journal of Speculative Zoology.
Secondly, although pustulated by a certifiable army of morons, including Blas Skinder, Volmar Gort, Maurice Rariety, Frank Blei, and Nora Kleyblack, the King Squid is not related to any of the lesser squid. It is not related to the Morrow Barking Squid, the Stockton Burrowing Squid, the Exploding Kalif Squid, the Detachable Mandible Squid, the Truffidian Monk's Head Squid, the Fallowpine Honking Squid, the Burning Leopard Squid, the Myopic Slorvorian Howling Squid, the Northern Batwinged Squid, the Eastern Red-faced Mongoose Squid, the Three-Eyed Leaf Squid, the Scintillating b.u.t.ton Squid, the grossly-named Daffed Dancing Sapphire Squid, or even the Nicean Scuttlefish.2 It is none of these things-nor related to any of them-I must repeat for those of you who may have lost the thread or are hard of reading.
MISS FLOXENCE'S PRETTY THEORIES I realize at this point that some readers may think it important for me to say what the King Squid is rather than what it continually is not. However, I am not yet finished with my essential ablutions, which must be completed to purge the reader of the impure negative energy created by so many madcap theories.
For we have yet to encounter the pathologically inane and scientifically unsound utterances of one Edna Floxence, primarily remembered as the unbalanced astrologer of the Banker-Cappan Trillian, but whom, under Trillian's auspices, suborned the public's attentions in such a way that certain myths engendered there continue to feast upon the brains of Ambergrisian school children to this very day. The Strange World of the Freshwater Squid is only trumped in its bilious and breezy antidotes for the truth by The Mysteries of the Freshwater Squid Revealed: six hundred continuous pages of spurious text that no true squidologist can read today without bleeding profusely from the nose, ears, and mouth.3 The problem, for one, is that in amongst the straitjackets of commonsense in the closet of her looney-ness, Miss Floxence makes the amazing claim to have "swum with the squid on a daily basis for an entire summer" in order to learn their secrets. The dust jacket for The Strange World even sports an engraving of Miss Floxence in a fetching frock, a petticoat bathing suit made all of frills and dangling tangles.
Why should the foolish Miss Floxence's claim seem so bogus? For two reasons: (1) At the time of setting herself adrift like so much floppery amongst the no doubt perturbed (and forever traumatized) squid, the River Moth's silt content was higher than it had been in years, thus ensuring that any swimmer in those mad murky waters could hardly have seen their own mud-sloppy hand in front of their wet leaf-obscured face, let alone observed and doc.u.mented over one hundred complex mating rituals, alarm strobes, feeding frenzies, and "quaint ancestral games" and (2) In her frilly petticoat bathing suit and with her pale skin and bulbous eyes, Miss Floxence bears an uncanny resemblance to the common fopgrinder, a fish in the toxicana family. This fish, with its frilly fins and dead white pallor, is the King Squid's favorite delicacy.4 One can only imagine the eye-popping jubilant salivation of a hungry pack of teenage King Squid upon encountering a fopgrinder of such magnificent size and proportions.
No, I'm afraid that Miss Floxence never swam with the squid-this delusion is not supported by the evidence. Even supposing clear visibility and a bathing suit not as likely to trigger close-up observations of squid eating habits, the reader must keep in mind that a King Squid routinely reaches speeds of 14 knots. I doubt the flouncy Miss Floxence could reach one knot on a really ambitious day.
We must thus jettison and watch float out of sight, perhaps sparing a curt wave, all of Miss Floxence's pretty theories, from the idea of squid changing partners every three months (a popular practice among humans in Ambergris at the time), to the ridiculously complex courtship rituals that combined the worst attributes of a spasmodic seizure with the most daring escapades from a romance novel, topped off by a very optimistic use of tools. (Owning up to your crimes is, as they say, very important for redemption. Dear Miss Floxence has yet to achieve that state of grace and, undiscovered letters and notes notwithstanding, may never achieve it.) BLITHERING ANECDOTAL EVIDENCE.
Early eyewitness accounts range from the choicest pulpatoons to the worst trillibubs of information. Such inaccuracies should be put aside along with our alphabet blocks, mother's too-frequent goodnight kisses, and therapy sessions.
A single example should suffice to catalog a mountain of mariner anecdotes, this selection ripped from a book actually paid for by the Society of Morrowean Scientists Abroad, ent.i.tled Squidologist Enoch Sighly's and Doctor Bernard Povel's Journey Up the River Moth by Way of Native Canoe and Indigenous Ingenuity,Culminating in a Boat Wreck, a Near Escape, Alcoholism, and Some Unfortunate Negotiations with the Aforementioned Natives: A wondrous Fish or Beast or Other Creature that was lately Killed or Speared or Shot washed up by its own Accord, Being Dead, on a nearby Sandbank on the 20th Day of our Expedition. We bade the curiously mirthful Natives Heave To! And when they did not, Asked Again, that we might Examine the Specimen. It had two Heads and ten Horns and on eight of the Horns, it had 800 Fleshy b.u.mpies; and in each of Them, a set of Teeth, the said Body bigger than three Cows of the Largest Size and with the Abnormous Horns being of almost 40 hoofs in length. The Greater Head carried only the Horns and two very large Eyes, much pecked by the birds that the natives call Birds. And the Little Head thereof carried, in addition to an Unwholesome Stench and an Odd Putrefaction, a Wondrous Strange Mouth and two Tongues within it, which had the Unnatural Power to draw itself out or into the Body as Necessity required. Other remarkable things observed in the Monster must be said to include its reddish Colored Wrapper sticking fast to the back thereof, and loose laps on both sides, white and red throughout. As well as Blubberous Skin that the Natives will not touch. It hath the most Monstrous Nose ever seen within or without the World.
From the fractured description of a "fish or beast or other creature" to the "b.u.mpies," the "horns," the "little head" (clearly a funnel), the "tongues," and the "wrapper," not to mention the comically mis-diagnosed "laps," it becomes simultaneously clear that the "fish or beast or other creature" in question is a King Squid and that the Society of Morrowean Scientists Abroad was unwise to choose as observers the Fatally Un.o.bservant.5 At least in such accounts, however, we come closer to the beast itself, the life's blood of Ambergris, the bounty of plenty, the squidologist's beakish wet dream, the freshwater monster known simply as "King Squid."
NOTES.
1. As my father used to say, "Layperson fogginess is the leading cause of hatred directed toward scientists." (See: Madnok, James, A Theory of Mushrooms.) The context of this statement? A discussion of the city's subterranean inhabitants, the semi-mysterious gray caps, and the ma.s.s disappearances they supposedly induced, known as "The Silence."
2. The King Squid eats all of these species, with great relish, on a weekly basis.
3. I first encountered Miss Floxence's text in the family library. My father and I had gone there to escape mother's wrath over some trivial offense and he pulled out the tome both because it was mother's favorite and because he thought I might enjoy a good laugh. He read me bits aloud to my cackling response. So I cannot pretend to be objective about Miss Floxence's books.
4. A fact lovingly recorded by D. S. Nalanger in his paper "The Fish Preferences of the Giant Freshwater Squid as Recorded During a Controlled Experiment Involving a Hook, Bait, a Boat, and a Strong Line of Inquiry," publication pending.
5. Indeed, although the Society never published the monogram from the second expedition, such a (slim) pamphlet could have been t.i.tled "Enoch and Bernard's Cut-Short Journey Wherein the Canoe Overturned and the Crocodiles Danced a Merry Jig Upon Our-"
II- WHAT THE KINGSQUIDIS.
APPROACHING THE TRUE KING SQUID.
Now WE SHALL TALK OF WHAT THE KING SQUID is INSTEAD OF what it is not. It is magnificent and vast. It is mythical and, to some of the misguided, Divine. It is, to more practical souls, a fine meal with a side of potatoes and a gla.s.s of brandy.
That it can be all things to all people may be explained by the fact that squidologists have identified over 600 species of squid. Large, small, medium-sized, oblong, squat, lithe, and long-all kinds exist in oceans, in rivers, in lakes. Beaks like parrots. Skin that flames and gutters with its own potency; depending on the time of day and temperature/ment, sometimes mute gray or festooned with self-made light like the Festival route at night. Some tough, some soft, some muscular, some gelatinous. Some can fling their bodies out of their watery domain and seem to fly! Others live in the deepest depths of the River Moth. Some commune together like swimming judges without scales to do them justice. Some, solitary, cannot stand even their own company. Yet others must, by their very nature, endure the company of an inferior species until they can metamorphose to a more exalted state.
UNCOMMON CHARACTERISTICS.
While I shall attempt to recite shared characteristics in an orderly 6 fashion, as rote as any children's song, I must admit that the closer we approach to the squid itself, the more excited I become: my mantle turns cerulean with pleasure, my funnel juts more prominently, my suckers tremble. So to speak.
As every young squidologist-released to happily squat over tidal pools (if in the Southern Isles) or lurk around the dock pilings (if in Ambergris)-knows, almost every squid has eight arms and two tentacles, grappling hooks, etc. As I may have mentioned. (The bookish squidologist will find case files on the now extinct Morrowean Mud Squid, whose tentacles reabsorb into the body upon attaining adulthood, leaving only flaccid nubs. This embarra.s.sing condition is not shared by the King Squid.) Some defective species-the malodorous Stunted Beak Squid, the aptly-diagnosed Stockton Disabled Squid, and the repugnant Saphant a.r.s.e Squid-have arms of differing lengths. However, the King Squid is by contrast a paradigm of good health, its eight arms the exact same thickness and length, its two tentacles longer by only a few feet.
The tentacles, a marvel of biological engineering, serve a number of graceful functions, but primarily bring prey to the doom that is its mouth. Not a particularly swift doom, however. The King Squid does not swallow its food whole as does the Swollen Mantle Squid peculiar to the Alfar Lake Region. Nor does it batter its food against underwater rocks to tenderize it as does the Purple Bullheaded Squid popular along the coast of Scatha. Instead, the King Squid must chop up and grind down its food using its beak, teeth, and pistolaro (a tongue-like organ).
Why must the King Squid do this? Alas, as every aspirating young squidologist knows, the squid's cartilaginous head capsule has little elasticity. It already houses a miraculous clamor of inmates: luminous eyes, a large brain, the esophagus.
Is this a flaw or some forethought the squidologist has not yet deciphered?
A SHORT DIGRESSION ON SQUID EYES.
And the eyes! If the eyes function as a window on the soul as so many doctors seem to believe,7 then the King Squid is a being from the Truffidian's Heaven. Firstly, a squid's eyes are not binocular: each sees what is on that side of the head. As a result, a squid can see twice as well as a human being; four times as well as those of you with gla.s.ses. Secondly, these eyes come in all shapes and sizes, from eyes as big as wagon wheels to eyes as small as b.u.t.tons. Oblong, circular, ovoid, slitty, triangulated, spherical, octagonal. In colors that range from the exact shade of the green-gold sunset over Ambergris through the bars (of distant music) to the red-silver shimmer of a rich woman's skirt at visiting time.
The King Squid's eyes number not one like the Cyclopedic Swelling Squid, nor two like Every Other Type of Squid, but three! Three eyes! The third and most exciting lies hidden on the underside of the mantle. The third eye performs two miraculous functions. Firstly, it detects bioluminescence only. Secondly, certain retina secretions suggest that this third eye produces a beam of light to aid the squid in seeing through the murky silt of the MothRiver.
I can shed no further light on this subject as profound as the King Squid's own.
CONTINUING ON WITH LESSER-KNOWN.
UNCOMMON CHARACTERISTICS.
But this, as I have said, any enterprising8 young squidologist must already know-if not from first hand adventures than from any of the treacly but beloved kiddie squid cartoons that I believe still run amok in the various Ambergris broadsheets.
What the bemuddened, water-splashed, invertebrate-loving young rascal may be unaware of are certain aspects of the King Squid's physiology and behavior that separate it from its squidkin. This should come as no surprise, given the paucity of quality sources for squidfact.
Firstly, the King Squid may reach adult lengths of 150 feet and weights of more than 5,000 pounds (would that the Moth were wider, deeper, and therefore more hospitable to larger specimens). As a result, the King Squid has the largest beak of any known squid. Squid beaks run small in relation to the body, but this still means a brave man with arms outstretched could just touch a large King Squid's open upper and lower mandibles. Since this would require said man's head to be inside said squid's mouth, I cannot recommend it as a measurement technique except when approaching the deadest of squid.
But size alone cannot explain our lifelong fascination with the King Squid. Indeed, not even the most reputable amateur squidologist would recognize the creature in its juvenile phase, when it resembles the larva of some aquatic insect.9 This has caused several unfortunate errors over the years.
TAKE THE CASE OF RICHARD SMYTHE,.
AMATEUR SQUIDOLOGIST.
For example, even a published amateur squidologist such as Mr. Richard Smythe-a traveling salesman residing in the landlocked city of Leander-can make a mistake. Mr. Smythe scooped up a jar of Moth water on a trip to Nicea precisely because it was full of what he believed to be insect larvae. Once home, he added the water to his aquarium to feed his patient fish and promptly departed in pursuit of a rumor of umbrellas needed in an umbrella-less land. Upon his return three weeks later, an angry King Squid the size of a small dog greeted him from the fishless tank. The starving squid promptly set upon the unfortunate Mr. Smythe, arms and tentacles flailing. Only the unsold umbrellas from his trip saved this silly man from an otherwise grinding fate.10 That he and the squid later became the best of friends does not alter the two basic lessons to be derived from this story: Always strain your water for juvenile squidlings and never trust water from the River Moth.
ENEMIES AND EATABLES.
According to Clyde Aldrich, hailed by inaccurate blateroons as the "leading expert" on the King Squid, this beast among squid has no natural enemies. (This is not the case for its closest relative, the southern salt.w.a.ter Saphant Squid, which must fend off the treacherous predations of the schizophrenic Saphant Whale-the whale that framed an empire, so to speak.) As for the King Squid's consumables, we can say with some authority that it eats with more variety than those released at the appointed hour to graze the cafeterias or even kitchens. The King Squid is a rapturous meativore that hunts relentlessly for prey ranging from insects, crustaceans, fish, other squid, and cows (when available), to the contents of badly placed houses.11 In short, the King Squid will eat anything it can wrap its limbs around, including the deadly but stupid freshwater shark. However, contrary to George Edgewick's A Study of the Link Between Invertebrates & Garbage,the King Squid, due to its highly developed sense of smell, does not follow garbage scows any more than it would care to order out from an Ambergrisian tavern.12 THE PLAYFUL SIDE OF THE KING SQUID.
All talk of predators and prey aside, the King Squid expresses a playful side when released from the prison of rote instinct. This sense of play usually manifests itself through its propulsion system. To move about, the squid depends upon its funnel-a short, hose-like organ that projects from the mantle below the head.13 Because the mantle swivels, the squid has remarkable funnel control. From which point derives one of the most remarkable of the King Squid's habits.
Namely, the King Squid has been known to shoot long streamers of water at unsuspecting travelers who walk on paths along the riverbank. These high-speed columns of water can travel as far as 80 feet inland and douse a soon-spluttering pedestrian with a pungent dose of silty water. 14 Such preternatural aim requires excellent eyesight and remarkable intelligence. The displays are often accompanied by a "huffing" sound that I believe is laughter, despite what my neighbor John says about my theories. The so-called experts-who could be locked up forever in a cell for all I care-believe this is just an effect created by refilling the funnel with water to have another go.
Regardless, as an unfortunate result, those bloated ticks who congregate under the name "The Ambergrisian Safety League" drafted a resolution allocating monies to train squid as firefighters for those sections of Ambergris accessible by water. Less laughable although more absurd are the oft-fatal and crackpot "squid baptisms" performed by the Church of the Squid Children, a cult that attempts to provoke "the holy act of absolution" from the squid. As might be expected from a confirmed meativore, the King Squid rarely obliges with anything approaching civilized behavior.
FURTHER INKLINGS OF SQUID.
INTELLIGENCE-AND A BROD SIGHTING
Meanwhile, further inklings of King Squid intelligence continue to surface, the ripplings of a case for cognitive ability long established by physiological evidence.15 Surely it cannot be coincidence that the squid's two mighty hearts pump blood not only into its stalwart gills, but into its large and complex brain as well? The average King Squid brain receives three gallons of blood more each day than the average resident-fed a lunch of dried-out fish strips, curdled yogurt, and a disappointed-looking green bean-receives in a week. The only animal with a larger brain, the Odecca Bichoral White Whale, is said to list to one side from the weight of its cranium.16 The King Squid-like some lesser squid but unlike the Spastic Alarming Squid-also maintains direct control over its coloration and patterns, which appears to provide further evidence of craftiness. Phosph.o.r.escent displays over the river at night bring to mind the strange lights seen over the ruined town of Alfar ten years ago and attributed to an unknown intelligence. (The careful reader will begin to catch a glimpse of the context for my unique theories, imparted to you in Part IV of this monograph.) From a base of translucent silver, the King Squid can strobe to green, blue, red, yellow, orange, purple, black, or any combination thereof. They can camouflage themselves against any background, with lightning-fast color changes.17 Although such changes may originally have "evolved"-to use the much-abused Xaver Daffed's over-a.n.a.lyzed word- to interrupt predator attack sequences or to a.s.sist in mating rituals, the skill now appears to form a sophisticated communication system, more effective than sound or the tentacle sign language Maxwell Brod once hallucinated he observed on a deep river dive.18 FURNESS AND LEEPIN'S