Silkless Pupa 2
He has become darker now, I believe. But is still sensitive to the world around him. A draught causes him to swish his tail. It is a little disquieting. I had tried to convince myself that a pupa was barely alive - and yet clearly it is still a sentient being.
This flick of a tail has caused me to think again about what is life and what exactly is living. I think again of comas, varying degrees of consciousness and the vegetative state. Inside, this pupa is disorganised, its cell walls broken down into a soup of innards - and yet it still reacts. There must be, therefore, something that is left intact: a brain, perhaps, and some sort of nervous system. This twitch of the tail must be some base reaction...and I think of another time, another twitch, and hope that too was some primal reaction without consciousness.
This flick of a tail has caused me to think again about what is life and what exactly is living. I think again of comas, varying degrees of consciousness and the vegetative state. Inside, this pupa is disorganised, its cell walls broken down into a soup of innards - and yet it still reacts. There must be, therefore, something that is left intact: a brain, perhaps, and some sort of nervous system. This twitch of the tail must be some base reaction...and I think of another time, another twitch, and hope that too was some primal reaction without consciousness.
7 Comments:
Makes me think of the chooks with their heads chopped off still running about - boy! did that freak me out when I saw that as a kid.
Ugh - that would freak me out too, Kay! I wonder how that happens - it seems incredible.
Just found a website about Mike, the headless chicken - there is, apparently a festival in May in Wales to celebrate!
http://www.miketheheadlesschicken.org/story.php
This makes my tummy feel slightly squirmy and I am reminded of how I felt reading Mary Shelley's Frankenstein... it's a lot to think about...
Yes, Barbara - see what you mean about Frankenstein!
Chickens, yes! Chickens loom large for me. So does Yeats. This also reminds me of what Yeats said about the time after death--a multi-year time of confusion to the soul, before clarity appeared.
Thanks Marly, 'a multi-year time of confusion' - now what did he mean by that, I wonder. Spring and Winter at the same time, perhaps? That would certainly be confusing! I like the idea of clarity appearing eventually. It gives one hope.
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