Read Online Ghouls of the Miskatonic (The Dark Waters Trilogy) by Graham McNeill - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Graham McNeill
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sent you out there, Professor?” asked Malloy. “After all, you spent three years out that way.”
A ripple of hushed laughter spread through the classroom, and Oliver nodded, placing the chalk down on his desk. It had only been a matter of time until word reached the student body of the ultimate fate of the Yopasi expeditions.
“That played its part, yes,” said Oliver. “But we’ll come back to that later. As far as Polynesian exploration is concerned, believe it or not, the first people to extensively study this region with a serious eye to anthropological research were the Russians.”
“The Reds?” asked a student named Jackson. “Surely not?”
“Absolutely, Mr. Jackson,” said Oliver as a rising hubbub of voices swelled from the students. “Yes, I know it’s unfashionable to credit the Russians with anything these days, but a fact’s a fact.”
“A damned Russian shot President McKinley,” pointed out Jackson.
“Actually, Leon Czolgosz wasn’t Russian, he was born in Michigan and just happened to have a Polish surname. And far from being a Red, he saw himself as an anarchist,” said Oliver. “Indeed, one writer of the time even compared him to Marcus Brutus, the assassin of Julius Caesar.”
“Are you saying this Czologsz was right to shoot the president?”
“Not at all,” said Oliver, not liking where this was going. “I am merely pointing out that not everything labeled as Russian should be immediately discarded as valueless. You are here as scientists, and as such you must bow only to the facts, not the mob of hysteria that distorts the truth and renders information subjective. Now, if I may continue?”
Jackson shrugged, and Oliver saw he now harbored seeds of misgivings about this class and its teacher.
“Now, if I may continue? The Russian Geographical Society was formed in Saint Petersburg in 1845, with a division that published material on ethnography, religion, mythology, and languages in Central Asia, Siberia, and the Far East. Of special interest to us, as anthropological students of Polynesia, are their findings on the shamans.”
Oliver wrote the unfamiliar word on the blackboard as he spoke. “Shamanism is an understanding of the universe and the interrelation of man and nature. To the shaman, the universe is driven by ancient dualistic ideas that divides existence into the ordinary and the sacral. At shamanism’s heart lies an animistic perception, a belief in the existence of spirits and deities of nature and beyond. Indeed, the word shaman comes from the Tungus-Manchurian language itself.”
“Are they like wizards?”
“In a manner of speaking,” answered Oliver. “A shaman plays a vital role in the life of his tribe. They act as…intermediaries between men and spirits and are their tribe’s protectors.”
“What are they protecting their tribes from?” asked a nervous-looking young girl. Oliver remembered her name was Amanda Sharpe. She was one of his elective students. She took some form of engineering as her major, which made this class an odd choice for her, but Oliver certainly wasn’t going to turn her away for that.
“That is a very good question, Miss Sharpe,” said Oliver, sitting behind his desk and opening his books. “Predominantly, the shaman is a man, though in some rare cases, a woman, who interprets the seasons and tides of the world so his tribe will never go hungry or be ousted by a rival. For example, the shamans of the Nenets people would go into the tundra in spring and autumn to learn of the soil, birds, and animal anatomy. Using that information, they would decide on the productivity of various pastures and hunting grounds, and would guide their tribe accordingly. But there were other, more tangible, threats to societies the shamans helped fight. The Evenks and Buryats shamans wore headdresses of bone and feathers, topped with iron horns, and these weren’t just for show. Indeed not. They were fighting headdresses, for the
A ripple of hushed laughter spread through the classroom, and Oliver nodded, placing the chalk down on his desk. It had only been a matter of time until word reached the student body of the ultimate fate of the Yopasi expeditions.
“That played its part, yes,” said Oliver. “But we’ll come back to that later. As far as Polynesian exploration is concerned, believe it or not, the first people to extensively study this region with a serious eye to anthropological research were the Russians.”
“The Reds?” asked a student named Jackson. “Surely not?”
“Absolutely, Mr. Jackson,” said Oliver as a rising hubbub of voices swelled from the students. “Yes, I know it’s unfashionable to credit the Russians with anything these days, but a fact’s a fact.”
“A damned Russian shot President McKinley,” pointed out Jackson.
“Actually, Leon Czolgosz wasn’t Russian, he was born in Michigan and just happened to have a Polish surname. And far from being a Red, he saw himself as an anarchist,” said Oliver. “Indeed, one writer of the time even compared him to Marcus Brutus, the assassin of Julius Caesar.”
“Are you saying this Czologsz was right to shoot the president?”
“Not at all,” said Oliver, not liking where this was going. “I am merely pointing out that not everything labeled as Russian should be immediately discarded as valueless. You are here as scientists, and as such you must bow only to the facts, not the mob of hysteria that distorts the truth and renders information subjective. Now, if I may continue?”
Jackson shrugged, and Oliver saw he now harbored seeds of misgivings about this class and its teacher.
“Now, if I may continue? The Russian Geographical Society was formed in Saint Petersburg in 1845, with a division that published material on ethnography, religion, mythology, and languages in Central Asia, Siberia, and the Far East. Of special interest to us, as anthropological students of Polynesia, are their findings on the shamans.”
Oliver wrote the unfamiliar word on the blackboard as he spoke. “Shamanism is an understanding of the universe and the interrelation of man and nature. To the shaman, the universe is driven by ancient dualistic ideas that divides existence into the ordinary and the sacral. At shamanism’s heart lies an animistic perception, a belief in the existence of spirits and deities of nature and beyond. Indeed, the word shaman comes from the Tungus-Manchurian language itself.”
“Are they like wizards?”
“In a manner of speaking,” answered Oliver. “A shaman plays a vital role in the life of his tribe. They act as…intermediaries between men and spirits and are their tribe’s protectors.”
“What are they protecting their tribes from?” asked a nervous-looking young girl. Oliver remembered her name was Amanda Sharpe. She was one of his elective students. She took some form of engineering as her major, which made this class an odd choice for her, but Oliver certainly wasn’t going to turn her away for that.
“That is a very good question, Miss Sharpe,” said Oliver, sitting behind his desk and opening his books. “Predominantly, the shaman is a man, though in some rare cases, a woman, who interprets the seasons and tides of the world so his tribe will never go hungry or be ousted by a rival. For example, the shamans of the Nenets people would go into the tundra in spring and autumn to learn of the soil, birds, and animal anatomy. Using that information, they would decide on the productivity of various pastures and hunting grounds, and would guide their tribe accordingly. But there were other, more tangible, threats to societies the shamans helped fight. The Evenks and Buryats shamans wore headdresses of bone and feathers, topped with iron horns, and these weren’t just for show. Indeed not. They were fighting headdresses, for the
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