“Under the Water”: Commentary on the History and Symbolism of the Parable of the Flood

With a foreword by the Dean of Ancient Languages and Literature

This work contains the original scripture of the sayings of the Teacher, translated here into clear modern-day language. It is considered the foundational text for the now extinct but once ubiquitous ancient sect that was inspired by the words of the enigmatic and oft-misunderstood Teacher. The text is presented with commentary and analysis by an emerging scholar: our newest professor of languages, whose work is a growing influence on the field. The scholar is currently working on two additional projects based on recovered original texts that will follow this truly impressive journeyman work. In all aspects of life, he is a dedicated student and rigorous thinker, and his dedication has driven him to create scholarship as if he were the titular “flood.” That is to say that he has worked tirelessly, like water bursting forth from a dam. As far as I am aware, he is still living peacefully with his wife, with whom he shares his driving love for true knowledge. He has told me that in his free time he sometimes enjoys listening to music. His commentary is displayed as indented text in the main body of the work instead of in the end-notes to aid readability and allow for a continuous reading that blends the ancient insights with what I hope will be for the reader a fresh, modern perspective on the philosophy of this fascinating and controversial period of history. I now entrust you as such to the author, whose devotion to the forms and meanings of words is worth keeping an eye on.

“If the ex-wife throws a frog into your mouth, it is better to swallow it than to spit it out into the rain.”

This phrase can be attributed to, at the earliest, the 3rd century ascetic sects. In all variants, the use of the phrase ex-wife is present, but it is not necessary to explain it here. We can safely assume it is some sort of mystical byword and ignore it. In some texts, there is no mention of a “frog,” but rather the image of a badger and his den. There, the variant of this proverb goes, “If a badger has a blossom fall into his den, it is better that he bury it than cast it out in the rain.” The symbolism of the rain is highly contentious among scholars, but it is likely that the rains here refer also to the spring rains. The Teacher’s advice to “swallow” the frog instead of spitting it out as would be a natural, self-preserving behavior is often analyzed as a rejection of the motif of rebirth that the spring rains symbolize. This fits well with historical research that shows the sect of the Teacher was highly focused on performing rituals of self-negation and ascetic self-denial. Perhaps swallowing the frog in this proverb represents focusing on the meanings of death and suffering instead of the frivolity of daily life. This is in line with the prevailing research that describes the death-focused, contemplative nature of the early ascetic practices. Finding secret meaning in suffering was likely of great importance to these groups

A scholar named Talketh* asked the Teacher in the rain, “Why have you come to teach here? If living things die, then don’t words die as they fall from your mouth? All things in the world die, both words and things that can be touched; do they not?”

And the Teacher answered, “Why do the rains fall in the fields, and flood them? Why do some seeds sink in the mud, and when the flood comes they grow? Why do other seeds grow only if the flood never comes? If I discuss the meaning of these words, you may not understand.”

“Please tell us,” said the followers that were gathered, and the scholar, Talketh, also nodded and looked up at the Teacher.

The Teacher started to speak. “Here is a story of two farmers, one masterful at his job and one lousy at his job.

When there was rain for many days in the fields, the lousy farmer saw the rain and pondered its source and amount. He feared that the rains would cause the seeds to give up hope, so he talked to the seeds about the sun. He wrote down the names of the seeds and the name of the sun so that the whole crop might learn and be encouraged to grow. But the listing of names will make nothing grow, and talk of the sun is as empty as the sky. So, the seeds looked up at the sun and became envious of it, and the farmer also lay down in the field with them and cursed the name of the sun. The seeds were tossed around by the flood, and did not grow deep roots. Instead, their roots grew into a great knot that covered the lousy farmer and his field.

But, when the masterful farmer saw the rain in his fields, he knew that the flood was coming and stood steadfast in his field. He did not say names of the seeds or the sun, and because of this, the seeds merely gazed at the sky and placidly watched it without cursing. When the flood came, their mouths filled with water from the rain, and they sank deeper into the rich soil. Then, both the seeds and the farmer grew roots deep into the ground. Their leaves and stalks were submerged in the wash, but their eyes were still open.

Talketh, do you know the meaning of this story? You ask questions about the meaning of words and about the fruitless deaths of all things. You should instead look for the rain that is already buried in the earth.”

Talketh said no more. At that time, the rain stopped, and the many who had gathered praised the sun and its robe of blue in the clear skies.

But the Teacher said to them, “Have you not heard that the clear skies take no visitors in their homes? It is the doors of the clouds you should be knocking on.”

The followers were silent, and many did not understand. But some looked up and said nothing and began to cross out their notes.

*The names, such as Talketh here have been translated literally, as their symbolic meanings are important and have greater relevancy to a modern reader than their phonetic counterparts. For those wishing to see the names in transliteration, there is an index at the rear of the text.

And here is the theme of rain that appears yet again. Things growing and planting are of high relevancy to an agricultural economy, and the floods that happened in the preceding years to the first known writings of the Teacher are mentioned in official royal sources on history. Some tablets left by traders mention the effects of the abnormal downpour leading to a period of high economic instability. It is thought that these lines are referencing the issues of the day. The use of “talking” as in Talketh and as in the speaking to the plants is commenting on the virtue of silence. For the early followers of the Teacher, writing and talking were one and the same. The talking of the sun and the listing of names is likely to have been seen by the authors as a strong parallel. Scholars such as Holmes are quick to point out that these texts may have been a part of a tradition that includes an as-of-yet undiscovered oath of silence. It is highly likely that, regardless, silence and forms of nonsensical speech and writing were an important part of rituals. If the extant texts do not mention it, then it is possible it existed in lost texts or oral accounts. Oral witness fell from the historical record and died as it fell. And lost texts were buried. This asks the questions, “Why To Speak At All,” or “Why To Write Down History In Scholarly Texts When Life Dies And Seeds Are Drowned In The Mud,” and a seminal treatise by Obkin and Burke has also addressed that these were likely of contemporaneous concern.

When the Teacher came to the university, it was clear in the sky, and there was a crowd of scholars gathered in the courtyard.

“What great works do you study that are not better studied by the worms in the earth?” asked the Teacher.

So the high dean of the university congregation said aloud, “This is the house of the earth, and true wisdom has built it these long years. Bring not foolish words here.” The scholars held their books tight in their arms, and they went inside the university and shut the door so that it could not be opened.

“If the door is shut the worms cannot come in. You can already smell the death that grows in the library,” said the Teacher, but few understood. Those that did went and found a lectern in a cherished hall. There they waved their arms as if to make a speech and drew leaves and flowers on the blackboard, and they did so day or night and whether or not anyone was in attendance.

The aforementioned scholars, of which Talketh is named as one, are likely an allusion to another critical school of thought in the region, as it was a time of much sociopolitical turmoil. It is known from other sources that wandering Teachers and established monasteries were competing for attention from a confused populace. Some such confused wanderers include one who is mentioned in this text as “Writeth,” who, mad with grief, becomes locked in a basement digging for scrolls of sacred import. This particular anecdote is not found here, though the persona appears later. The motif of flowers can be found once again as well. Perhaps the drawing of images and figures had some place in the scholarly or other sects.

At this time, it is said that the Teacher came to a town that was struck with disease.

The elder of the town came out to their band and said, “Look here! Please come to the graves, so that you can speak to them. I have heard you can make them healed.”

And the Teacher replied, “There is no wound in the earth that can keep the hope of the living, for it comes up like weeds at every chance,” and went with them to the place where the dead were buried.

When they had gathered around the caves where the dead were lain, one of the followers asked, “What words will bring back the dead? Is it to be spoken, or is it to be written?”

And at that the Teacher said, “It is just this: come back and speak to me,” and rolled open the door of the tomb.

Out of the cave came the families of the bereaved, and they held books and quills in their hands. The dead spoke to the living, and the theses of the dead were considered with great scrutiny. For in those times, the words of the dead were thought to be of great importance.

Then the Teacher sat on a rock and said, “The dead write papers that can be published no more than the worms of the earth sing poetry from their mouths. If words can also fall, then they too can be buried.”

The recurring motif of worms in the earth is connected to cycles of burial and symbolic rebirth in the soil. This cult of life and death was something a typical farmer might have participated in around momentous life events, such as the loss of a harvest, the flooding of a harvest, the theft of a harvest, or the winter solstice. From the line “For in those times…” – and I have consulted the original – we can take that it is likely that the authors of this text considered that their beliefs about death and rebirth were unique and would not be reflected in later days. Of course, even in the modern era, the poetry of the dead is considered pleasing, and there is still great conversation between the living and the dead. This comparison is noted in Holmes, and surely if one were to ask the dead a question on this matter, what might they say in their defense? Do they feel the rain that falls on the feet of the living? Anyone can see that the image of burial is mirrored again in the final proverb.

There was a gathering of listeners on the banks of the river. One came up to the Teacher and said, “A great feast is being held for the wedding of my ex-wife, is it then right to go and feast?”

The Teacher replied, “If you go in sorrow, then what seeds can you expect? A farmhand worked the fields on this river for twenty years. At the end of that time, the farmhand went to the foreman’s office to seek payment, but the foreman was gone, and there was a herd of swine sitting in the office. The farmhand said, ‘Well, I shall seek payment from them.’ But the swine asked first for new slop to celebrate the bountiful department merger. When the farmhand had brought the new slop, the swine told them to eat up and join in the celebration. The farmhand said, ‘This is not my rightful wages,’ and the swine with most seniority said to go out to the field to find them. But in the field, the river had flooded, and the fresh crop of texts that grew was inundated and could not be read except by the worms in the earth. The farmhand left an insightful review on the reeds and pushed it out into the wash. This is the fruit of the flood.”

Upon hearing this, many in their midst began to weep and cried out, “But who will curate the next volume if the ex-wife is to be wedded to the worms in the field? Who can then read the volumes she will bury there?”

Then a swell of rain came and the river rose up to where they were sitting. Those that understood held their breath and opened their eyes under the water.

This is another scene that discusses a parable. It is thought that the parable portion is older than the miraculous events that occur later. However, an explanation of the motif of the flood cannot be found in any other scholarly work up to the present day, and indeed the motif of the flood itself cannot be seen in this or any other text. The motif of the ex-wife that had been washed away in the flood cannot be expounded on because all the requisite sources were lost, and they may have only been oral texts to begin with. It is possible, though, that the only remaining ones are locked in the library tower. If I climb it, the sky might be able to comment on this thesis. The motif of the flood is considered by Earth and Sky in their foundational work on “Fortuitous Deluges: Love Poetry in the Time of the Teacher” to be one of transmitting meaning using a mystical cipher that conceals true thought. These early sects focused on such esoteric knowledge as a rite of passage. The original sources on proverbs—that I alone have found by digging in the original basement for years—say, “If the rainfall shall wash a flower into the den of the badger, it is best not to bury it but to drink it up and write its name down furiously.” I am currently working on the early stages of transcribing this and another collection written by the worms that live in the basement. Though the rainwater had an unusual flavor, the list of names ought to be finished for review any time now.

It was at that time that the Teacher came to the house of the scholar Climbeth, and their tower with gates shut and locked.

The Teacher called up to him, “The wedding is already over. Come down and join the feast.”

The scholar did not reply, but recited the names of the sages in a loud voice and threw down scrolls with wet ink that stained the side of the tower as they fell. There the scrolls sat unrolled in the dirt. Those who had gathered could see that the vines Climbeth had used to climb the tower were a thick mat on the tower wall.

The Teacher said, “If the flood comes, even now it will reach you.”

Climbeth threw pieces of paper with the names of prestigious journals written on them from the tower window. However, all of the followers were silent, and said nothing.