A cautionary fable on the banality of belligerence. Fausto—dapper, balding, and tanned (but presenting white)—believes he owns everything and sets out to prove it.
“You are mine,” he declares to everything he meets, from a flower to a mountain, compelling increasingly reluctant submission by yelling, clenching his fist, and stomping.
Only the sea denies him, asking how he could own anything he doesn’t even love, and inviting Fausto to make good on his angry threat to show it who’s boss.
Trying to stomp on the sea (combined with an inability to swim) ends predictably for Fausto… whereupon all of the overgrown toddler’s “possessions” go on about their business, indifferent to his fate.
With typically measured minimalism Jeffers relates this timely episode in prose and gestural images so spare that they… (a subscription to the Jimplecute is required to continue reading this article).
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