drowning giant
The Drowned Giant
There had been a heavy rainstorm the night before, so it was mid-afternoon when local fishermen spotted it and got word into town.
There had been a big storm the night before. And so, it was late morning before the town heard the first news of the arrival after it had been spotted by local fishermen.
As scientists, my colleagues and I naturally dismissed the initial reports as exaggerations or optical illusions. But with more and more witnesses coming back from the beach, we finally decided to investigate for ourselves.
Being scientists, my colleagues and I, of course, discounted the first reports as exaggerations or a trick of the light. But as ever more eyewitnesses returned from the beach, we finally decided to investigate for ourselves.
He has at least 60 tons, I guess close to 80, 30 tons with bare bones. His enormous facial proportions prevent us from judging the giant's age, but his classical mouth and nose suggest that he was once a cautious and modest young man.
He must displace at least 60 tons. I'd say closer to 80. The bones alone must weigh 30 tons. The vast proportions of his features made it impossible to assess the age of the giant, but his classically modeled mouth and nose suggest he had been a young man of discreet and modest temper.
It was a regal face that was regal and charismatic at odds with the brute force of her massive size. His Homer-epic physique is closer to a real-life version of the Argonaut's drowning crew or the hero of the Odyssey than the life-size body sculptures I've seen before.
It was a noble face, possessed of an ornate charm that belied the brutish power of the giant's physique. His magnificent Homeric stature offered a more authentic example of a drowned Argonaut or a hero from The Odyssey than the conventional human-sized portraits previously in my mind .
What fascinates me is not only his enormous size, but most importantly, his unmistakable presence itself. Whatever other uncertainties in our lives, this giant, definitely exists, giving us a glimpse into a world similar to ours. There, we beach watchers, are but imperfect and feeble replicas.
What I found so fascinating was partly his immense scale, of course, but above all, it was simply the categorical fact of his existence. Whatever else in our lives might be open to doubt, this giant existed in an absolute sense... providing us a glimpse into a world of similar absolutes in which we spectators on the beach were such imperfect and puny copies.
From a distance, he appears to be nothing more than asleep, ready to pat his feet and crush the miniature replicas that surround him.
From a distance, it looked as if he was merely asleep and could, at any moment, clap his heels together and crush the miniscule replicas of himself that swarmed around him.
But over time, the spells cast by the giants began to lose their potency.
But as time passed, the magical spell cast by the giant began to dissipate.
Three days later, I went to the beach again. Feeling that I have a special interest in giants, my colleagues at the academy entrusted me with the task of observing giants.
There's nothing morbid about it, because it's fair to say that the giant is still alive for me. In fact, more alive than many people around me.
Three days passed before my next visit to the beach. Sensing a particular interest in the giant, my associates at the institute delegated the task of keeping the giant under observation to me.
There was nothing morbid about this because, for all intents, the giant was still alive for me. Indeed, more alive than many of the people around me.
The next day, I deliberately didn't go until the afternoon, hoping that the beach would be less crowded by then.
The following day, I deliberately postponed my visit until late afternoon, hoping that I'd find fewer people on the beach.
Due to the long time in the sea and the swelling of his tissues, his face looked old, and his face now had a feeling of fullness, which foreshadowed the coming corruption, and he started from then on. Surrender to the time system that rules everything, and the rest of humanity will not be spared.
Prolonged immersion in seawater and the tumefaction of his tissues had given the face a less youthful look. His features now had an appearance of well-fed maturity, hinting at the growing corruption to come. This was the beginning of his surrender to that all- demanding system of time, in which the rest of humanity found itself.
No matter how distasteful it may seem, this constant transformation, this visible death process, finally gave me the courage to set foot on his corpse.
However repellent it may seem, this ceaseless metamorphosis, this visible life-in-death, is what gave me the courage to finally set foot on his corpse.
The new perspective made me realize the last physical pain of the giant more deeply. Although he didn't know it, it was just as painful. In the end, his face became the mask of weariness and helplessness, drawn into the twisting vortex that all of our finite lives are destined to be drawn into. His pain was made all the more tragic by the fact that he had to bear it alone.
Like an abandoned ship, thrown on an empty beach.
This new perspective made me more aware of the last physical agonies of the giant. No less painful for his unawareness of them. In the end, his face had been transformed into a mask of exhaustion and helplessness. Caught in that same twisting whirlpool for which all our finite lives are destined. And his suffering was made all the more tragic by the isolation in which he endured it.
Cast like an abandoned ship upon the empty shore.
Amputations are just the beginning of a series of devastations.
The amputation was but the first of a series of depredations.
It took me two days of inner struggle to get over my reluctance to witness the end of this magnificent vision. Despite his huge size, this insult to the giant's body made him more human in my eyes.
more fragile.
But that sense of vulnerability released a sudden surge of suppressed malice, encouraging these little guys around to destroy a giant's corpse.
Two days had passed, while I struggled to overcome my reluctance to witness the end of this magnificent illusion. Despite his immense size, these insults to the giant's body made him appear more human to me.
More vulnerable.
But that weakness has released a sudden flood of repressed spite, encouraging the mutilation of the colossus by the tiny creatures around it.
When I got to the beach the next day, I was almost relieved to find that my head had been cut off.
When I visited the beach the following day, I found, almost with relief, that the head had been removed.
I went to the beach again after a few weeks, when the giant's human features were gone. The interest of bystanders finally faded as the few remaining personality traits barely preserved on the corpse disappeared.
Some weeks had lapsed before my next journey to the beach. And by then, any human likeness held by the giant had vanished. And with the loss of those few remaining traces of personality that had clung tenuously to the figure, the interest of the spectators had, at last, expired.
Months later, the giant's arrival was largely forgotten, and fragments of corpses began to reappear in various parts of the town, most of which were bones.
These huge detached fragments seem to better reflect the giant nature of the giant, rather than the swollen limbs in my last memory.
Months later, after the giant's arrival had been generally forgotten, various pieces of the body began to reappear around town. Most of those remains were bones.
These mighty yet disembodied fragments seem to better convey the essence of the giant's magnificence than my last memories of his bloated appendages.
I have no doubt that if I searched in the pubs, hotels and restaurants of the town, I would still find the mummified nose and ears of the giant, hanging from the wall, from the fireplace.
I have no doubt that if I search the town's pubs, hotels, and eateries, I'd also find the mummified nose or ears of the giant hanging on walls and fireplaces.
As for the giant penis, it was kept in the Freak Museum by a small circus who traveled along the northwest coast.
That gigantic organ, astounding in its size and once majestic, now occupies a tent, but is sadly mislabeled as a whale's organ.
As for the immense pizzle, this ends its days in the freak museum of a small circus, which travels up and down the northwest coast.
That monumental apparatus, stunning in its proportions and once potency, occupies a complete tent to itself, though, sadly, it is mislabeled as belonging to a whale.
Even those who had seen him in person after the storm, now only remember, if they remember, that he was a sea monster.
Even those who came and saw the giant after the storm now remember him, if at all, as merely a large sea beast.
But for me the giant is still alive. I often dream of him coming back to life, the behemoth striding across the town streets, picking up pieces of himself along the way and heading back to the sea.
But the giant is still alive for me. I often dream of his resurrection. A colossus striding through the streets of town, picking up the fragments of himself on his return journey to the sea.
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