English Literature

 I had read Sufi mysteries and attempts to write story books through the grand finale of Christianity they refer to as the Catholic Reformation.  I had watched that film about that mad mathematician, Brilliant Mind or whatever.  But, she was different.  Yes, she was entirely different from those Sufi mystics and mad mathematicians.  She died two days after she had told me that God had tried to break into her house.  He had called her through the window I am God.
     Fingerprints.  Fingerprints.  Did God leave fingerprints as He choked her to death  I remembered what I had clearly memorized during my first year as a detective.  It was in the manual, and it read
     Like all other items that cannot be physically lifted from the crime scene, fingerprints are
     processed with the use of black magnetic powder, grey powder or black powder.  One-to-one
     photographs are taken using a Polaroid CU-5 camera with Polaroid black and white film and
     a flash that can be detached.  It is best to collect fingerprints at the scene of crime.  If objects
     carrying fingerprints are transported to a forensic analysts lab, however, they must be
     packaged in either envelopes or paper bags.  Criminologists need fingerprints both from
     victims and suspects to compare, and this applies to footprints as well. (Manual for Forensic
     Analysts, 1963, p. 65)
I remember Mrs. Anderson had believed Im a genius or something because I knew this word for word.  I have never forgotten a single word of this paragraph.  But, this woman who had been killed by God  uh, Ms. Turner  clearly, shed not be as happy as Mrs. Anderson for I cannot understand what it was that had killed her.  Criminologists need fingerprints both from victims and suspects to compare, and this applies to footprints as well.  I have found Ms. Turner in one piece and I know that at least one hand has strangled her to death.  The only problem is, of course, that we have not been able to find any footprint or fingerprint other than hers  in that bedroom, where she apparently died in peace.
     It was a large bedroom, as large as my apartment on Number 51.  And, she was alone  or at least thats what weve been made to believe by a killer thats so awesome he just killed her without the use of his hands  I can see Mrs. Andersons smile through her stylish eyeglasses and half-hidden teeth as I remember the last time I met with Ms. Turner.  She was afraid, and yet she was peaceful.  God was speaking to Ms. Turner and she wanted me to know her fears are being allayed because her ex-boyfriend has stopped stalking her and God has been heard through her window.
     But, there was nothing broken and nothing missing.  She was complete, peaceful, and she had been strangled to death.
     Mrs. Andersons smile brings to mind another paragraph I had clearly memorized because Id known Id need it twenty years on
     There are three kinds of fingerprints that criminologists may analyze in their laboratories
     before they present their scientific reports to courts of law patent or visible prints, plastic or
     molded prints, and latent prints.  Patent or visible prints are left by the transference of
     various substances, e.g. blood, ink or grease.  Plastic or molded prints are made when fingers
     touch or press against pliable and soft surfaces such as wax, soap, putty or drying paint. 
     And, latent prints are part of hidden scientific evidence. (Manual for Forensic Analysts, 1963,
     p. 71)
Thats itshe was killed by a Djinn  I had read about those in stories authored by what they call mad Dervishes in Istanbul.  Has Mrs. Anderson ever bothered to read those stories  Does she need to read them out aloud to her class now that we are in the late twentieth century, facing all sorts of spiritual problems 
     Somehow I felt that all clues were connected with Mrs. Anderson.  Or, maybe Id wanted to know that Ms. Turner was still alive, and she looked as healthy and merry as Mrs. Anderson, the only woman who had referred to me as a genius.  Did Ms. Turner know that Im a genius  I believe that Ms. Turner didnt want any of us to know how she expired.  Whose were the hands that killed her  Was it God or a servant of His, one of those evil genies  Were they Catholic or Dervish 
     ThereI see the crime scene as it must have appeared to Ms. Turners ghost if she knew I was visiting her dead body.  The room was dark, and yet it looked as though she died in a state of light.  Ms. Turner was bringing light into my life talking of God, etc.  She always reminded me of books on spirits, the good ones.  And, she believed that God was good to her.  He had forced her ex-boyfriend to stop stalking her.  Of course, that boyfriend could not have been a suspect.  He had left the country for good.  We knew he was not going to return. 
     Poor, rich Ms. Turner.  She was surrounded by bad friends, and yet she was surrounded by what she called light.  What is light  It is God, she had told me.  What would Mrs. Anderson make of all this
     Perspiration, dirt and sebaceous oils are typically responsible for latent prints.  Such
     fingerprints (and even footprints) may be found on paper or polished and smooth surfaces. 
     But, they may also be found on other types of surfaces, e.g. vegetation, fabrics that are
     starched, and even the skin of the victim. (Manual for Forensic Analysts, 1963, p. 91)
I knew we had searched through Ms. Turners apartment like ghosts looking for mischief.  We had smelled everything.  There were no latent prints.  There were no visible prints.  And, the only thing that appeared as wax to make plastic prints was Ms. Turners body on which we found her own fingerprints.  No, she did not strangle herself to death.  Her neck was strangled by fingers we could never see  And, that light in her room the night she diedI believe it was the same light we had found the following night in her room  that dark room with light.  I remember her shopping bags near the window.  Ms. Turner had gone shopping that evening.  She was cheerful she had bought herself a new necklace among other things.
     Mrs. Anderson would like that necklace.  George should buy her something like that.  I suppose I would have bought her that necklace if I had loved her.  Mrs. AndersonMs. Turner.  My minds eye returned to her room once again. 
     Oh, yes, we had found some papers there.  It was poetry, all typed out.  I could not really believe that was Ms. Turners mind at work.  She was just a woman, after all.  Then again, she had a laptop in a corner somewhere.  I allowed the papers read me one more time   
In war-torn Iraq
A man is sipping tea in war-torn Iraq.
Flimsy pages of his newspaper, Iraq
Today, fly here and there as they stay put
Nevertheless in his lap and input
From the pages enters his mind as slowly
As memories of the bony lass slowly
Leave his mind  memories that had tormented
Him ever since the Iraq War began. Kid,
She is gone, she left with the soldiers of the United States,
The landlord of her flat had informed him.  So now the man hates
Everything he hears from the country where the bony lass resides.
Still, out of necessity, he listens to those pages, presides
Over them as though he would do something about the news on those pages
If only pretend he would do something about the news on those pages.

As his tea cools under those fans that dont really help him feel cooler
In the head where suppressed anger and worry due to the vast dollar
Countrys actions stay, he chances upon a piece of news that suddenly
Interests him although he did not really care whether it was hot or cold.      

She or whoever else the poet may have been did not seem to finish the Iraq poem.  But there was something else in that stack of papers that led me to believe it was she who had written all this.  Fingerprints.  Fingerprints.  Of course, she could have just printed this off the Internet and nobody else would have touched the stack of papers anyway.
     But, when the hell did she go to Everglades  And, why  The unidentified typist wrote
     Visiting the Everglades National Parks Long Pine Key Rockland Habitat, I felt like one of the billions of people on earth right now that are tired of their hustle and bustle lifestyles albeit addicted to them.  Like those people, I have a daily schedule that leaves me little or no time to consider visits to beautiful places such as the Pine Key Rockland Habitat on a regular basis.  We make plans to take vacations, and we watch television as though it is a necessity.  But, the Long Pine Key Rockland Habitat reminds me that there is much more to real life than we imagine we have the time to dwell on.  What if all of us talked about pine rocklands and other marvels of nature on a daily basis  leaving our toxic thoughts about people and situations behind  Life, I believe, would be far more pleasant if we only took the time to experience change within ourselves.
A Picture of the Earth As Seen from Outer Space
We have left it to go onward,
Though earth remains home, beckoning
Us Defying gravity, bird
In the sky, o space ship, coming

Home would be far more interesting
I am the Pine Rocklands, I too
Burn to stay alive, as giving
Of knowledge  I am homelike too

Get down, come back, do not attempt
More than you can handle, return
To refresh your eyes, I have bent

Down before you. Simply return
Home. Live with me, watch me from a distance
There is no place like home, with your presence.

Comparing and Contrasting Fingers of Light, The Metamorphosis, and Barn Burning

     Franz Kafkas The Metamorphosis is a story composed with poetic and playful imagination.  How could Gregor Samsa turn into a huge insect  The reader is allowed to interpret the story as a nightmare or a scary dream that Gregor had experienced as wish fulfillment.  Gregor is financially burdened (Kafka  Appelbaum, 11-53).  Freud, the father of psychoanalysis, would most likely interpret such a nightmare as a wish for death to escape ones burdens in life.  Ms. Turner in Fingers of Light has had this wish fulfilled, if, in fact, it was her desire to die.  She was thinking about God, the Maker, the last time she was met by the narrator, who is a detective.  Moreover, her death is mysterious which is why the detective cannot figure out how she died.  The narrator keeps dwelling on spirituality in connection with Ms. Turner.
     How did Ms. Turner die  It is clear that she did not die because of any natural cause, or the detective would not be as concerned as he sounds.  Toward the end of the short story, Fingers of Light, the reader is led to dwell on unidentified flying objects by making connections through the poem, A Picture of the Earth As Seen from Outer Space.  Was Ms. Turners soul taken away by aliens  If the answer is Yes, it is as fantastic as Gregors physical transformation.  Both cannot be explained by science as we know it.  
     Like Fingers of Light, William Faulkners short story, Barn Burning also deals with an investigation.  If somebody has killed Ms. Turner, he or she is as difficult to prove guilty as Abner Snopes toward the beginning of Barn Burning.  There is no proof that it was he who had burned down a barn, just as there are no fingerprints to prove anybody guilty for murdering Ms. Turner (Faulkner).  What is more, the woman who has lost her life in Fingers of Light is comparable to Colonel Sartoris Snopes or Sarty, as both of them are seekers of truth.  Ms. Turner meditates on God.  Sarty, too, must seek truth as he decides whether to side with his father or with justice by revealing that his father is, indeed, a criminal (Faulkner).  
     Toward the end of Barn Burning, Sarty is leaving his family  for the unknown (Faulkner).  He is not an adult.  How would he take care of himself  Faulkner describes Sartys desperation as he runs away thus
         He was a little stiff, but walking would cure that too as it would the cold, and soon there
         would be the sun. He went on down the hill, toward the dark woods within which the liquid
         silver voices of the birds called unceasing - the rapid and urgent beating of the urgent and
         quiring heart of the late spring night. He did not look back. (Faulkner)
As Ms. Turner would probably say, God only knows what happened to Sarty once he fled his family.  On a similar note, if it was Ms. Turner who wrote the passage about the Everglades National Parks Long Pine Key Rockland Habitat, as the detective assumes she did, she had already expressed that she was tired.  And, if the last poem in Fingers of Light had been composed by Ms. Turner, the reader is free to interpret that the lady left for the unknown. 
     The narrator does not understand the cause of Ms. Turner death.  The reader knows, however, that she may have been fed up with the status quo like Gregor and Sarty.  What is more, each reader is free to make his or her assumptions about how Gregor turned into an insect, how Ms. Turner died, and where Sarty went.  Some mysteries cannot be resolved.  Ms. Turners personality was also a mystery.  Hers is the most spiritual story out of the three.  There are fewer human characters in it, as compared to Faulkners and Kafkas stories.  Lastly, Fingers of Light is the least masterfully composed as compared to the other two.  It is experimental like Kafkas, and yet it cannot be compared to either Faulkners or Kafkas stories in terms of structure as Faulkner and Kafka were both master fiction writers.