Alasdair Gray - Ten Tales Tall and True

“Yes, anybody who hears the voice of God nowadays is deluded. God said everything we need to know through the words of Jesus. But many sane people have felt God’s presence since Jesus died. I used to read their autobiographies, they made me envious — and angry too. Some were saintly junkies, hooked on the Holy Ghost like cocaine addicts to their dealer, passing miserable weeks waiting for the next visitation. I was not so greedy. One wee visit would have satisfied me — I could have lived on the memory ever after. But if I became a minister of God without once feeling God loved and wanted me I knew I would end up a fraud like my father. The nearest I could get to God was in books, which were not enough. I lost interest in Christianity, fell in love with a healthy agnostic and married instead. It was easy.”

“Do you know what I’m going to tell you?”

“Yes — that it was the best thing which could have happened to me. If you shut your mouth and listen as you promised I’ll explain why it was not.

“I’ve always found it easy to give the people nearest me what they want. As a student I worked perfectly with busy, excitable, eccentric Christian Socialists. After marriage I perfectly suited someone who wanted a wife to give him polite well-dressed children and a home where he could entertain his friends and colleagues and their wives. So marriage completely changed my character and maybe destroyed part of it. Nowadays I want to hear people talk about the soul, and God, and how to build bridges between them. I can meet these people in books — nowhere else — but my friends and children and husband give me no peace to read. They can’t stop telling me news and discussing problems which strike me as increasingly trivial. I can’t help listening and smiling and answering with an automatic sympathy I no longer feel. They cannot believe my reading matters. If I locked myself for an hour in the bedroom with a book and a can of lager they would keep knocking on the door and asking what was wrong. Now you know why I come here to read.”

Some have founded hospitals for the poor because they wanted popularity or fame or felt guilty about their wealth. That is why Paul says ‘Though I bestow all my goods to feed …’

“Wait a minute. Have you tried going to church?”

“Often. It was what I usually did on Sundays but the prayers now sound meaningless to me, the hymns like bad community singing, the sermons as dull as my father’s. Two weeks ago, without telling my family, I came here instead. Nobody I know will ever come to this pub, and it doesn’t play loud music. And I like the company, you were right about that.”

“Eh?”

“Yes. I feel less lonely among people who are quietly talking and drinking — as long as they don’t talk to me or lay their hand on my thigh.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“Enjoying a pint and a read here is my Sunday service. Can I go on with it?”

“Aye. Sure. Of course. I meant no offence.”

That is why Paul says ‘Though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and have not Love, it profiteth me nothing.’ Peter says the same: ‘Above all things have fervent love among yourselves.’ John goes further: ‘God is love.’ And Jesus gave us a commandment which makes all laws needless for those who obey it: ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your mind and all your soul, and your neighbour as yourself.’ Remembering this, let us return to Paul .

Love suffereth long, and is kind; Love envieth not, and isnotpuffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked …

“Excuse me for butting in again but I’ve been giving some thought to your problem.”

is not easily provoked …

“I think I see where the solution lies.”

is not easily provoked …

“I know as well as you do that sex is not the reason for everything but…”

“YAAAAEEEE HELP BARMAN HELP!!!!”

“For Christ’s sake …”

“Right, what’s happening here?”

“Barman, this man nipped me.”

“She’s a liar, I never touched her!”

“Yes you touched me. I asked you again and again not to, but for twenty minutes you’ve sat here nip nip nipping my head like, like a bloody husband. Please get him off me, barman.”

“Right you — outside. This is not the first time I’ve seen you at this game. Out you go.”

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving. But let me tell you something: that woman is a nut case — a religious nut case.”

“Shut your mouth and clear out.”

is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Love never faileth; but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away .

“The old man who was pestering you has gone, Missus. You won’t even see him in the street outside — he’s slipped into the pub next door.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry I troubled you but he insisted on pestering me.”

“I understand that Missus, and I’m very sorry that now I must ask you to leave also.”

“Why? Why ?”

“Solitary women are liable to stir up trouble as you have just noticed. This is not your sort of pub. Try one nearer the top of the road.”

“Will you allow me to finish my drink?”

“Certainly. Of course. Don’t rush it, take your time. It’s the last you’ll be served here.”

For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. And now abideth faith, hope, Love, these three; but the greatest of these is Love .

“I’m sorry Missus but you have to leave now, at once, whether you’ve finished your pint or not. We cannot have a woman weeping in the corner of the bar. It spoils people’s pleasure.”

I met Jesus Christ only once, in Cana, at some sort of marriage feast. I say “feast” because that word was distinctly printed on the invitation card, though it aroused expectations which were not fulfilled, for the parents of the bride had either pretentions beyond their incomes or were downright stingy. The waiters’ tardiness in refilling our glasses suggested the booze was in short supply, and long before we finished the unappetizing main course there was none to be had. The person most obviously upset about this was a little old Jewish lady who had already (I seem to remember) consumed more than her fair share of the available alcohol.

“They have no wine!” she hissed in a stage whisper which was heard throughout the room and embarrassed everyone except (apparently) our hosts. I was compelled to admire their equanimity in the face of so audible a hint. The little lady was addressing a man who looked like — and actually was — both her son and a carpenter wearing his best suit. Like many mothers she was blaming her offspring for other people’s faults, but his reaction surprised me.

“Woman!” he declared, “My time is not yet come!”

This struck us all as a meaningless remark, though I later realized it was advance publicity for his brief, disastrous career as a faith healer. However, a moment afterwards he beckoned the head of the catering staff, and whispered something which resulted in more wine being served.