Jim Jones war ein Sektenführer, mit allen uncharmanten Eigenschaften, die man sich vorstellen kann. Er war Vater des People Temples, Wunderheiler und Hochstapler. Außerdem ist er für einen Massenselbstmord seiner AnhängerInen (inklusive ihm) in Guyana verantwortlich. Interessierte können sicherlich das Internet bedienen. Ich selber habe damals das Buch "Selbstmord im Paradies: Mein Leben in der Sekte" gelesen, hier der Buchrückentext:
"Er hatte ihnen das Paradies auf Erden versprochen. Und sie sind ihm gefolgt – bis in den Tod. Vor dreißig Jahren geriet die US-Sekte People’s Temple in die Schlagzeilen der internationalen Presse. Ein regelrechtes Massaker hatte am 28. November 1978 in Jonestown (Guyana) stattgefunden, 913 Menschen starben, darunter 276 Kinder. Opfer eines charismatischen Führers, James Warren Jones. Was treibt Menschen dazu, sich in ein System der Unterdrückung und Manipulation zu begeben, das sie mit dem Leben bezahlen? Deborah Layton, die neun Jahre lang Mitglied der Sekte war, konnte ein halbes Jahr vor dem Massaker aus Jonestown fliehen. Zwanzig Jahre später schrieb sie diesen eindrücklichen Bericht. Ein Buch mit Wucht. Ein Buch, das auf fesselnde Weise aufklärt. Ein Buch von beängstigender Aktualität."Leider ist es schon eine Weile her, daß ich das Buch gelesen habe und ich habe es auch nicht hier in GB. Wer sich generell für Themen dieser Art interessiert (Sekten), kann einen Blick riskieren. Wer eher lesefaul ist, kann bei Youtube auch diverse Dokumentationen zum Thema finden.
Zurück zu meiner Hausaufgabe. Letzendlich ist das hier auch nur ein Snippet und müßte als Kurzgeschichte natürlich deutlich ausgebaut werden. Ich könnte mir vorstellen, daß manch eine oder einer die Verbindung von Lolita und dem Kurzerzählten nicht so gelungen findet. Könnte das doch zu Fehlschlüssen verleiten. Ich möchte Homosexualität nicht auf die Ebene von Pädophilie runtersetzen. Allerdings ist der Character William Williamson darauf angelegt, ebenso grenzüberschreitend zu sein wie Humbert Humbert, dessen Lust Motor für seine Handlungen war.
Williamsontown
“You are God’s instrument Mr. Williamson. How you
healed Martha today. That was…really. A
miracle. When she came up to the stage…” Jackie’s eyes are beaming at me.
“Thanks Jackie. But it’s not me. It is you, the
people, and your faith. We are all His instrument. Remember Romans 8:11, “But if the Spirit of him that raised up
Jesus from the dead dwell in you, he that raised up Christ from the dead shall
also quicken your mortal bodies by his Spirit that dwelleth in you.”
“Thank you so much father” her hand reaches for my arm,”thank
you. I really felt it today when Martha started to speak and her voice crac…”
“Sorry to interrupt you Jackie”, I recoil,” but I am
in hurry. I need to catch my train and Laura is waiting outside for me. I really am terribly
sorry, we’ll see each other next week, okay? God bless your soul. ”, with that
I turn, leave Jackie, hear her “Thank God for William Williamson” while I am
hurrying towards the doors. I feel my shirt scratching. Why do they always need
to talk after the session? Then they
want to touch you and ask for further advice or want to invite you to their
house for a nice dinner. And the dinners
never turn out to be nice.
When I step outside, Laura is already waiting on the
opposite side of the street. I see that she is wearing the petrol pleated
skirt. She wore it for one of our first rendezvous; we chose Lolita, she loved
Kubrick’s movies, I adored Nabokov.
She was already waiting for me in front of the movie
theatre, hopping on her feet, wearing that same skirt, black patterned tights
and a short, black coat that wrapped around her slim figure. A bag clutched
beside her, snow falling on her hat. She was heavenly. I loved her.
We met in one of my healing sessions. I couldn’t help but notice her
beauty spot, when she came to seek some further advice after the session:
“Mr. Williamson, I just came recently to town…” and I
sunk into her eyes, her voice surprisingly deep, promising endless dawn. And
above all things have fervent charity among yourselves: for charity shall cover the multitude of sins.
“Laura “, I give her a hasty kiss, “are you alright?”
She nods: “I am fine Will, I was managing your
calendar, then my Mum called and she wouldn’t stop talking, you know how she
is. Anyway it got late and I couldn’t find your bag. I was looking in every
corner of the house, but nothing. I didn’t
want you to miss your train, so I packed your stuff in my travel bag instead.
“That’s fine Laura, don’t worry. Thanks darling,” another
kiss.
“I hope I didn’t forget anything. Also I packed you a
little something.”
“Oh, that sounds good, can I look now or should I look
later?”
“I will miss you Will…” She stares down at the
pavement.
”Laura, look, we
had this discussion already and I need to be at the train station in 15 min, so
let’s try not to argue, okay?” Hands
toying nervously inside my pockets.
“Uh huh…”
“Is there
anything I can bring back for you from Paris? To cheer you up a little bit? I
will have some free time after my meetings.”
“The Eifel
tower, maybe?”
“Sure darling, whatever you want…” I beam at her with
the integrity of a used cars salesmen whist bending over to take the bag; “I’ll
call you when I am there. Whenever I
have the time. But I really need to go now. Otherwise I’ll miss my train.” I
embrace her convincingly and kiss her on the forehead. I am already fumbling
after the car keys.
As the train rolls into the Gare du Nord I am already at the door and staring
through the window like a cat into a goldfish bowel, trying to recognise the
waiters’ face. After everlasting minutes
the train finally stops, I am the first to jump out- an innocent school boy who
cannot wait to throw his books into an after class corner, hunting those beautiful
opportunities to do all the wrong things. I spot Jean-Luc immediately; he rushes
towards me and I feel my pulse racing. Jean-Luc, light of my life, fire of my loins. My
sin, my soul.
And I know that Jesus and Humbert Humbert
died for our sins.
Keine Kommentare:
Kommentar veröffentlichen