Chapter 10

"Don't you think it's strange?" asked Rachel.

"What?"

"I'm reading The Bible ... the beginning of Exodus ... the Creation part is easy. And it's pretty much the same as the other Creation myths we've read. But the Garden and the Expulsion from it, that's strange."

"Is it really? You told me about that Tunisian story about the Sahara..."

"Moroccan."

"Right. Anyway, here are these peoples living in a desert climate, like much of Australia, and trying to explain the presence of occasional fertility."

"And the Expulsion?"

"I think that when God punished Adam and Eve in the Garden, the punishment was time. They weren't able to laze about and pick and eat fruit. They wouldn't live forever. They had to start to work to survive. They had to till and harvest. Rather than eternal late summer, things changed. Their days were numbered. Their bodies began to wear down, they aged. At the end of their days, they would die. That's what Milton says at the beginning of Paradise Lost:

Of Mans First Disobedience, and the Fruit
Of that Forbidden Tree, whose mortal taste
Brought Death into the World and all its Woe,
With loss of Eden...

The act of transgressing brought expulsion and with that Death."

"Like Brunnhild disobeying Wotan?"

"Yes. Another transgression. And she is exiled, too."

"And Pandora."

"Though she's not exiled."

"No. But she's very like Eve. Each is the first woman in the world; and each is a central character in a story of transition from an original state of plenty to one of suffering, a transition which is brought about in revenge for her transgression of divine law."

"Exactly. Just see what you've gotten out of those two mythology courses."

"Yes. But it got me into trouble in Cultural Difference last week."

"You didn't tell me."

"No. I wasn't sure how to present it. I now know the problem, but it's hard to enunciate."

"Can I help?"

"Probably. Not now. I want it straight in my head first."

"Okay. Anyway, I want to call Perth later. Gordy's coming this weekend."

"Yes. You'll have to tell him that he probably won't see the other Gordy."

"Right. What's for dinner?"

"Salad."

"I'm going to turn into a rabbit!"

"I doubt it. The Easter bunny was here a few days ago. Anyway, we eat out too much."

"Oh, yes. You might edge 45 kilos!"

"But I'm not even 150 cm tall!"

"Okay. Salad it is."

"I'll hardboil some eggs, too."

"Right. I'm going back to Arthur Wellesley and the Second Battle of Copenhagen."

"Yes, dear. Enjoy yourself."

After dinner I phoned Perth, spoke to Mum and got the plans straight for the weekend. Dad's biggest concern seemed to be that Rachel and I dressed properly. Then I tried to pull my thoughts together where the Napoleonic wars in the Baltic were concerned. It all seemed so small. European distances were tiny. From Copenhagen to Madrid is half the distance of Sydney to Perth. In Stuart's first try at crossing Australia they walked nearly twice as far as Paris to Lisbon. I wanted to superimpose the map of Europe on Australia so I could visualize things better.

"Okay," Rachel broke in, "I think we can talk now. But don't tell me that I'm silly."

"I don't..."

"Yes, you do. Anyway, I realized that 'Cultural Difference' was really a sort of narrow indoctrination: a lesson in how we're supposed to tolerate all those people who aren't up to our standard. But the whole thing is skewed towards Europeans and Aboriginals and the simple facts of populations like the Afghans and Persians and the Indians and Pakistanis and the Chinese, Japanese and southeast Asians are elided. And while Audie and Gerry are half-way, the course can't come to grips with me. In fact, cultural difference is a distance from western Europe, disregarding the obvious differences between Scotland and Italy or Greece." Rachel paused for breath.

"And you said that in class?"

"Actually, I said the whole thing was a fraud and that the mythologies showed more likenesses than differences. I said that what we'd been talking about were silly superficialities."