

Ignobility: II. STYLOBATES MARMOREUSIgnobility: I
The pedestal was empty. To its side stood she who just had occupied the stand
a plinth of smoothest marble, white as wings
of birds, the flocks that wheeled overhead.
She was Marie of Datoíri, chief ambassador for all that region known
as the Imaginary Planets faméd clime. This league of five small planets had seceded, as we know, from all the rest,
so that it might provide a haven and
asylum for all those in discontent
with customs of the ordinary world.
It


Ignobility: PraefatioPRAEFATIOIgnobility: Praefatio
Tell me whether the dead return. I ask, O Muse, not only for the one
whose story we shall tell, but for my sake as well: the poet dare not answer this
herself. Its resolution is too fraught
with gloom for her, with dark and winding paths
that twist in sharp returns to ever more
sinister realms, where flitting specters hide
and whisper menaces half-heard. Such is
the labyrinth of the mind. So spin, O Fates,
upon your golden looms, and aid us both:
the puzzled Muse, and I, as yet still blind.
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