Modern
Formal Analysis in science began with formal-analysis in Art History
(Vasari, Ruskin, etc.), so in our time, its a homecoming to formally
analyse an old children's kite story as follows-
"The
Adventure of a Kite" is perhaps the most perfect kite introduction
ever. Author, Mrs Myrtle, a proto- quasi- Mary Poppins, deftly touches
on the profoundest kite memes with keen expert detail and clarity a
child can grasp. Seen this deeply, most every kite flight is this sort
of "merry adventure" of the spirit (nevermind AWE venture-capitalist
kitemares). Ideal kite wind and site conditions are specified.
The stored kite begins in a ground-state tangle, but its topological
stability allows the kite wizard to sort it out. High altitude
capability is featured metrically, as a multiple of a "high tree" (ad
hoc Planck Natural Unit). As echoed by Maori tradition (and Lord Byron
and Mary Shelly), a sort of ritual kite-chant or song is employed.
Static tension, wind-field turbulence, load friction, and quantum-loop
instability phases are differentiated as the wind builds, and
kite-power mounts exponentially. The kite line burns the hand (just as
Wubbo's little hand was once burned, setting him toward AWE), and
irresistible traction-forces develop. Breakaway occurs mid-tether, at
the center-node of the fundamental harmonic. The loose kite leads its
pupils forward and ends up in the "tallest tree" (qua Tree-of-Life, an
axis-mundi), that spills a family of rooks (raven-crow) to a good-witch
at the base. These messengers of the spirit-world abide with the
children, under their care, to return to the tree-of-life. The kite
itself is only slightly damaged, easily repaired, and lives on. Its a
Dutch Pear-Top kite, such as Peter Lynn owns, as the oldest surviving
kite. Yea, it could even be the very kite in this story, for all we
know. We are all on the grand adventure of a kite, aka Campbell's
Hero's Journey, with the kite and friends as our teachers and guides.
------------
*
An illustration no less remarkable than the text; aptly depicting a
Dutch (or East Britain) kite and windmill. The genderization JoeF notes
ultimately archetypes the female-element in wise Goddess role.
The Adventure of a Kite.
ne
evening, when Mary, her mamma, and Willie had all taken their seats
near the window, and the story was about to begin, Mary reminded her
mamma of a merry adventure that she had mentioned as having happened
when she and her brother and Master White went out to fly their "new
Kite."
"Do, mamma, tell us about that," said Mary.
[8]Her mamma said she would, and after thinking for a few minutes, to recollect all about it, she began.
One
fine, breezy morning in October, Master White came suddenly to our
house, with his eyes looking so bright, and his cheeks so red from
running in the fresh air, and quite out of breath besides.
"What is the matter, James?" we all cried out. "What a red face you've got!"
"Have I?" said he; "my nose is so cold! I ran here as fast as I could, there is such a beautiful breeze for a Kite. Come, both
[9] of
you, and let us fly the Kite high up in the blue sky; come as many of
you as can, and this day you shall see what a Kite can do!"
Up
we all jumped, the Kite was brought down, and away we all started into
the meadows, running nearly all the way, and James White never ceasing
to talk of the wonderful things he intended the Kite should this day
perform.
We
arrived in a large, grassy meadow, sloping down to a low hedge. Beyond
the hedge was a very large field, and beyond that field another large
field, which
[10] had
some high trees at the farthest end. In the tops of these trees was a
rookery; we knew these trees very well, because we often used to walk
that way, partly because it was a nice walk, and partly because an old
woman, whom we were all very fond of, kept an apple and gingerbread-nut
stall under the largest tree. However, as I said before, these trees
were a long way off—two whole fields off—more, two whole fields and all
the meadow. At the top of the meadow, near where we stood, there was
also a high tree, and at the foot of this we laid down the Kite.
[11]"O, James," said my brother, "do you think we shall be able to make the Kite fly as high as the tree we are under?"
"As high!" said James White, "six times as high, at the very least."
He
now carefully unfolded the tail from the body of the Kite, being very
particular to undo all the tangles near the tassel, which made quite a
bunch; but he brought it out perfectly. One end of the ball of twine
was now attached to the body of the Kite. He then raised it up with the
right hand, holding out the tail in three great festoons with the left,
[12] and
in this way walked to and fro very uprightly and with a stately air,
and turning his head in various quarters, to observe the direction of
the wind. Suddenly he dropped the tail upon the ground, and lifting up
the Kite with his right hand in the air, as high as he possibly could,
off he ran down the meadow slope as fast as his legs could carry him,
shouting all the way, "Up, up, up! rise, rise, rise! fly, Kite, in the
air!" He finished by throwing the Kite up, continuing to run with the
string in his hand, allowing it to slip through his fingers as the Kite
[13] rose.
The breeze caught the Kite, and up it went in fine style. It continued
to rise rapidly, and we ran to and fro underneath, shouting all the
time, "O, well done, James White, and well done, Kite!"
By
the excellent management of James, the Kite rose and rose, till we all
said, "O, how high! how wonderful!" And then James White said he was
satisfied.
Now
you are all to recollect that this Kite was very large. In the story I
told you in summer, where the making of this Kite was described, you
remember that it was said to be as tall as James
[14] White
himself, and of course very much broader. The consequence was, that
this Kite was extremely strong. So we all sat down on the grass to hold
the string, which James White said was necessary, as the Kite struggled
and pulled so hard. It was now up quite as high as the string would
allow it to go. But the wind seemed to be increasing, and James White
said he began to be rather afraid that he must draw the Kite downwards,
for fear it should have a quarrel with the wind up in the clouds, and
then some accident might happen. We accordingly began to draw down the
Kite
[15] slowly,
winding the string upon the stick as it gradually descended. But
notwithstanding all this care, an accident did happen after all.
Before
the Kite was half-way down, a strong wind suddenly caught it sideways,
and the Kite made a long sweep downwards, like a swallow, rising up
again at some distance, swinging its tail about in a most alarming
manner. "Bless my heart!" said James White.
Up
we all jumped from the grass. "Help me to hold her!" cried James White;
"how she struggles!" Again came the wind, again the Kite made a sweep
down
[16] and
rose up again, as if indignant—then shook her tail and wings as if
threatening to do some mischief—then made a quick motion to the right
and a dance to the left—then made a very graceful courtesy deep down,
as though she was very politely saluting the wind, but suddenly rose up
with a sharp jerk, as though she had spitefully altered her mind—and
the next moment made a dart first to the right and then to the left,
and continued to do this till James White said he was sure something
must happen.
We all held the string as fast as we could, and tried to pull down
[17] the
Kite; but it was impossible, for instead of bringing her down, we were
all three dragged along down the meadow slope, crying out, "Somebody
come and help us! somebody come and help us!" But nobody else was near.
In this manner the Kite was pulling us along, the string cutting our
hands, and running through our fingers like fire, till at last I was
obliged to let go, and being unable to get out of the way, was knocked
down, and being also unable to roll myself out of the way, my brother
fell over me. James White was thus left alone with the Kite, and was
dragged
[18] struggling and hallooing down the meadow slope.
He
was determined, however, not to let go; nothing could make him loose
the string; he was determined not to be conquered; but before he had
got to the bottom of the slope, the string of the Kite broke about
half-way down, and up sprang the Kite again towards the sky, taking its
course over the meadow towards the great field beyond. We all three
followed of course, as fast as we could, staring up, and panting, and
not knowing what to do. The Kite continued to fly in rather an
irregular manner over the
[19] first
great field. It then made a pitch downwards, and several tosses
upwards, and flew straight over the second great field, in the
direction of the high trees. "O, those trees!" cried James White, "it
is flying towards the trees!"
He
was right, the Kite did fly directly towards the trees, as James White
said it would. Just as it arrived nearly over those trees, it made a
great pitch downwards, right into the top of the largest tree, and
completely knocked over one of the rooks' nests that was built there.
We came running up as soon as we could, and then we saw that it was the
very tree, at
[20] the foot of which was the stall of our dear old woman, who sold apples and gingerbread-nuts.
"Make
haste!" cried she;—"the Kite is safe among the boughs; I can see its
long tail hanging down. But do look here! the Kite has made us a
present of five young rooks; two are fluttering among the golden
pippins, and three are hopping and gaping among the gingerbread-nuts."
James
White scarcely looked at the rooks; he said he had more important
business to attend to. He took off his jacket, and immediately began to
climb up the
[21] tree.
In less than twenty minutes he succeeded in bringing down the Kite,
with only two small rents in its left shoulder, and the loss of one
wing, all of which he said he could easily repair.
We
took the five young rooks home with us, and had great amusement in
rearing and feeding them, and as soon as they were old enough, we took
them out into their native fields, and let them fly directly under the
tree where they were born.
