Sunday 12 June 2011

Distance from the Labyrinth, and Renewed Insight

I have been away since Saturday morning. I needed to think. I took a bus up to Donegal, hitched a ride with an acquaintance out to the beach, pitched my tent and spent a day and a half on my own, with just the rocks and the sea.


It was important to get so far away from the things that plague my everyday mind. It reminded me that once, I had a purpose beyond finding out about my father’s past, beyond piecing together Belfast’s history, and away from the surveillance of others. Not that long ago, I was just making my way along, trying to find my peace. I wasn’t anyone’s Protagonist.

Then I returned late this afternoon, to see the video posted by David. I hadn’t seen his face nor heard his voice in almost a year. Ripe from a day of quiet reflection, of course it has moved me. I must admit, I’m looking forward to finding the end of this labyrinthine tunnel, that seems to endlessly lead us through a world I once considered private … Yet, I continuously appreciate the contributions and talents of those who are involved. We often can’t solve problems alone. David’s interjection is appreciated as well. If he’s reading this, I’m thankful to him.

I think we were very much correct that the labyrinth seems to lead toward Ciaran Carson. You’ve posted plenty of evidence supporting the suggestion that he is involved, and you know I believe it now myself. I’ve tried emailing him and phoning his office, but still no answer. But today after seeing David’s video, I rang my mom again to ask for any information she might have on Arie, Sr. (my dad’s father) and his relationship with Liam Carson.

It seems that Arie, Sr. was actively in touch with many Esperanto speakers via post over his lifetime, and talked about it enthusiastically whenever she remembers meeting him. Apparently Arie, Sr. meant Dad to take over his correspondences when he died, but Dad never learned to speak Esperanto, so he couldn’t do it in the end. Mom also said that occasionally, after his father’s death, Dad would receive random postcards or letters from friends of Arie, Sr., usually in broken English and often from far-flung places—people trying to maintain the links, keep the network alive.

One of these letters, Mom said, was from a man in Belfast named Carson. She found it after Dad’s death, in among the things that were sent to us in Canada. The letter was dated during time before we moved to Belfast, and from the sounds of it this Carson hoped to meet my Dad, claiming that their fathers were lifelong pen friends and even wrote some kind of treatise together by correspondence. But the treatise was a puzzle missing a piece, my mom remembers the letter saying—a piece to be supplied by a future generation. The letter stated that Carson hoped my dad would help him complete the philosophy that their fathers once collaborated to build.

Of course I asked for the letter, but Mom said it’s long gone by now. She doesn’t know anything else; there were no other letters related to this.

All of this links up with what we already know. Knowing my dad, I’m sure that he would have read that letter from Carson, thought it was slightly bonkers, and then tossed it aside … yet he saved it for some reason, even if he never contacted Carson. And if they met again in Belfast, as the suicide note suggests, it may be that Carson never revealed his name. Maybe he was simply looking for the puzzle piece.

1 comment:

  1. So the labyrinth is pointing you to me, is it?

    Ana guessed correctly. Partly, anyway. It was me that spoke with Arie, her father, in the pub before he died. It was so stirring, so very sad to read the letter posted here. Had he lived, Arie, Jr would have done great things.

    Ana is still alive, however. She is safe. And I believe she is nearly ready to fill the role that, I believed, once belonged to her father: the voice of [in]visible belfast.

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