As you-all might guess I get a lot of inquiries and comments through the PM option on this forum. In fact the sheer volume received in an average week renders it almost impossible to respond in any depth to each and every one. Often I try to respond to these PMs, more or less, by interweaving responses in my postings on-thread. Recently though, I got a PM from one Natasha Valeriya Topolski (who was kind enough to send along
her photo) which inspired me to respond 'on-forum'.
We are encouraged by Mahatma-Felasco to 'get real with the real world' and it is proving a tough lesson, especially perhaps for Harry. It comes easier for me...
Natasha Valeriya Topolski wrote:I must to tell you that I am biggest fan of yours in all Vladivostok and do the possible to spread Gospel of Gustav. Myself and my beest [sic] girlfriends have curiosity which we hoping you take time to answers. If you have 273 years old we calculate your birthdate in 1741 and we are curious to where might you have be borned? You seem a man with great and varied experience in life. My little sister Dominika has asked me to ask you: What theSTRANGEST EXPERIENCE of life so have lived you so far? :::many hugs and kissings::: Remember us in your dreams dear Gustafshki!
Thank you dear Natasha for your kind PM. Be assured it will be impossible now to drive you ever from my dreams...
I was 'borned' in Västerbotten Municipality in the north of Sweden located to the east of Lapland. My mother was a Laplander seer and divinator who brought my father, Gustav Alexander Dahlquist Bjornstrand, under her charmed spell. Gustav Alexander was famous at that time for his novel 'En Man Går Galen' which was read throughout Sweden and subsequently translated into 14 different languages, including Swahili. I was educated, classically of course, but was thrown out of university in my 3rd for insubordination and smartalecry. Being very clever of speech however, and of dubious ethics, in 1760 I took up chicanery and went on the road. (My 14 sisters, I do want to stress, completed their University studies and all become doctors, railroad engineers, advocates, journalists and went on to mould Swedish culture and the world in fundamental and enduring ways). I have been traveling 'up and down your earth' since that time and, yes, have witnessed inexplicable wonders often too strange to tell.
In 1854, just after my 113th birthday, I had in that phase a nifty wood production business in Asunción, Paraguay which I had won in a rigged poker game against a compulsive Jewish trader and gambler named Esteban Moises Weisenheimer whose family had escaped the Spanish persecutions many years before. I had a fleet of barges and used them to float down Quebracho or 'axe-breaker' wood from the upper regions of the Rio Paraguay. We made railroad ties which---and this was my idea---we transported to N. America by ship. Naturally, I made a fortune. A veritable
lluvia de oro. I was married to a Paraguayan noblewoman: Eliza Fernanda Alonso Lopez de Asuncion, and myself went by the name Gustavo Rodriguez San Solano Lopez,
Grandee. Together we had a fine son named Joachim Efraim de San Solano-Lopez who had effectively taken over the business with zealousness and thrift. I was ready to retire to my my inner land of intellectual and literary somersaults and devised a retreat to my wife's ancestral seat in Caazapá, both a city and a district of Paraguay.
This region, known as 'La tierra del paje' (the land of sorcery) is fabled in Paraguayan history and, as you will guess, for its strange magics and enchantments. The Guarani Indians are a superstitious lot and the founder of Paraguay, Friar Luiz de Bolaños, became syncretistically transformed in their legends and sorcery practices into a local spirit-god of sorts. He was said to have created with a touch of a magic 'palo' the still-famous
Ykua Bolaños: a fountain of magical water upwelling from the telluric depths of the Earth. He was also said to have been a master of the visionary use of
Ka'a guajakapa, a mysterious and potent hallucinogenic sorcerer's weed similar perhaps to whatever Felasco has been nibbling on for the last 40 years. Predicably the
Ka'a guajakapa grows only near the sacred waters of the
Ykua Bolaños, and as it turned out the
Ykua Bolaños was located right at the center of my noble wife's ancestral seat.
So, we left Asunción and began a new life on Caazapá. I divided my time between my library and long walks in the surrounding countryside. Our Guarani housekeeper Esmeralda who had lived in the region all her life, after listening to me recount how I had cheated old Esteban Moises Weisenheimer out of his logging business, and so many other tales of
braggadocio, chuckled to herself and called me
sỹí. I asked my wife what it meant and she told me that it referred to 'slippery rocks in a river bed' that were easy to slip on and also that it referred to a local fox which had mythological significance to the Guarani of the region. She said that in the Indian legends the fox mother will take her young to drink from the waters of
Ykua Bolanños and the Indians regarded all foxes as magic and enchanted creatures and held them in great respect. As it turned out there were quite a number of these
sỹí living around our home and in order to build a corral and a new barn for the horses I had to clear out a section of land where a family of foxes had their lair. Esmeralda came to me one evening, almost pleading, very worried and excited, wringing her hands, and said that in order to do this I
HAD to call in a Guarani sorcerer who would communicate with the fox-peoples, explain to them that we meant no harm, and would mediate a series of offerings that were required to keep the peace. Well, I pooh-poohed all of this and went about my plans. "Negotiate with foxes indeed!' and I snickered to myself. We cleared the area, built a new stables and everything was just fine.
Some months later my wife and son left with Esmeralda to spend some days in Asunción and I was left alone in the house. I must confess that I had not (yet) become the deeply and profoundly arch-ethical and ur-monogamous man that I am now and looked forward to my wife's departure so to carry on in some dalliances with the daughters of the local aristocracy. One evening walking about the extensive grounds, which I had not yet fully explored, I was amazed to see a gorgeous young woman---perhaps 17 or 18---bathing in a small clear stream. I watched her for sometime and when she had dressed herself I approached and spoke with her. 'My dear child', I said, 'how beautiful you are! I am quite certain I have fallen in love with you! Please, come back with me to my manor!'. She blushed and said 'No, no, that is not possible, but please, come back with me to my home and I will introduce you to my family! My name is Aguará, Aguará Silvana de Alamilla'. (Which name I had never heard and this only mystified and enchanted me all the more).
We walked a little ways and came directly to a mansion with gardens and servants and bustle of activity and waving banners and women in crinoline and men in fine coats with tails. I was stupefied! How could there have been such a residence so close and I not been aware of it? Puzzled as I was I put these thoughts aside and was introduced to her parents and shown the house. I spent the afternoon with these marvelous people and I stayed the night. To my wonder and to my delight, at three in the morning, I was summoned to my ladylove's scented bed and we 'knew' each other in ways I'd be embarrassed to relate.
So intoxicated was I with my delightful lady that I seemed to have totally forgotten my own family! I remembered them as if in a distant dream, and every moment spent with my love seemed to blot out the memory, make it more and more vague. I was deeply in love! Soon, my lady became pregnant and I looked glowingly forward to the day when we'd have a fine son.
Now, back at my homestead of course my wife and son had returned from Asunción and discovered I'd gone missing. Very worried, they combed the estate looking for me and then inquired among the neighbors on the surrounding
fincas, to no avail. They saw that I had not packed any bags and had left only with the clothes I would normally wear around the estate. Some days went by. It was assumed I had wandered into the forest, or been bitten by a poisonous snake. Or perhaps I had gone mad and was wandering in the forest chattering like a monkey?
Back in 'my world', of course, I was happily (re)married to my lovely Aguará and we now had a child! Oh the delights! He toddled about, Aguará laughed her full laugh, we'd swim naked in the mystic waters, and then we'd cavort like two children in the primeval garden! Weeks and months passed. Then years. My boy was almost 13 years old!
But back at my 'real home' my wife and son and Esmeralda (of whom I now had no memory) had brought in a Guarani shaman who ingested
ka'a guajakapa weed and went into a deep trance, invoking Friar Luis de Balaños for spiritual help in locating me, and if I could not be found then just my bones which could be given a decent and Christian burial. The ritual went on all night and into the morning.
As it happened, I was sitting one fine morning in the garden of my beloved Aguará's mansion noshing on a bit of
Chipa-Guazu when I noticed a strange little man dressed in a friar's get-up with tonsure coming toward me menacingly with a stick. I could hear Aguará humming in the upstairs bedroom and my beloved son was in the parlor reading an atlas. 'What in the name of heaven is this? Who in the devil are you?!' I asked, affronted. The little friar said nothing and came abruptly at to me and started to beat me with his stick! Whack whack whack, mercilessly. Then he chased me through the garden and somehow we were both under the foundation of the house in a crawlspace. Finally with no place to run and smarting from the blows I was forced to crawl out from under the foundation, muddied and with torn clothes, and lo! I found myself not far from my 'real home' (located of course in 'the real world')
My memory returned ever so vaguely and I called out to my wife and son. I saw my (true) wife and my (true) son coming to the door and Esmeralda and the little Guarani sorcerer following behind. They stared at me in shock. Later they told me they saw me down on all fours, sullied and ragged, howling and barking and running back and forth.
Now it should all become clear. I had of course offended the fox-peoples of those enchanted lands and they had surely got their revenge. In my mind I was gone for 13 full years, had married, had a son. But in fact I had been gone only 13 days and had been 'living' in the foundation of a small outbuilding on the north end of our property! I'd lived with my fox-bride in a burrow and eaten small rodents, fruit, carrion, lizards, birds eggs and snails and thought I was eating delicacies!
In those first few days and before I had fully recovered my senses I told my very own son: 'Boy, don't be hurt, but I have another son who is Number One. You are now Number Two! I plan for the two of you to meet but can't saw exactly when!' To my faithful wife I said 'Woman, you are good and pure, but I have taken a young wife who has bore me a fine son! Soon, we will all live together and I wish for no discord!'
When finally I came back to myself, I admit I was deeply embarrassed. The enchanted foxes had played a very clever little trick on me and taught me a lesson I was never to forget. We continued to live in that ancestral seat and every month or so I'd solemnly bring offering of lamb-meat to the fox-peoples, promising never to disturb them without explaining why and negotiating some accord.
Well, Natasha, there you have it. The strangest of strange stories from the strange and mysterious life of Gustav Bjornstrand, otherwise known as Gustavo Rodriguez San Solano Lopez,
Grandee de Paraguay.