The Monet Story - Pt 1

For those who could see it, it was truly a day of thunder worthy of Jupiter. But, by Jove, all I could see was a dim, cool, and sunny Thursday morning.

Fact is, I was too busy waiting for my turn outside the doctor's, idly sitting on a bench. Nonetheless, I sensed something, a presence. Someone was watching me.

04/10/2018, 08:54

Drawn to the source, I turned to meet two penetrating and inquisitive eyes. They were staring at me intently from the top of a staircase, totally unfazed by my sudden awareness. We remained silent, I smiled and took a picture. It was at that moment, precisely at 08:54, on the 4th of October 2018, that I first saw Monet… and, by Jove, all I could think was ‘how nice!’. But that's the way it often is, isn't it?

So there I was, idly waiting, and waiting, as on many other occasions. Waiting for my Godot, you may say, and not seeing my Monet. Waiting for one doctor while ignoring the other.

Those times certainly shared something with Beckett's play, but - lucky me[1] - life had no intention of ending at Act II: little did I know that a third one was waiting round the corner, one that would start painfully and beautifully, with a spark, moving from Beckett to Joyce.

Yes, I was gently sliding, unknowingly, in the substance of Finnegans Wake[2].

The symbol of Proteus: a curved trident on top of an inverted straight trident

Speaking of Joyce, it seems fitting that the 16th of June (Bloomsday) is both the day in which we meet Stephen Dedalus and in which the probing human mind discovers and names the third moon of Neptune: Proteus - that all knowing, elusive, shapeshifting old man of the sea[3]. Being Proteus also the title of the third chapter of Ulysses, I cannot but suspect the people behind the naming of the Neptunian satellite were aware, at least subconsciously, of the facts.

Ahem, excuse me, back to Monet now.

Actually, not now: we won't be seeing him for another six months, give or take. Can you wait that long?

Wish I knew then, on that Thursday morning, that waiting had nothing to do with it at all.

I was patient, by all means, and I was wrong. The doctor had been there the whole time, not locked in some office, but out in the open. Even so, by Jove, I could not hear the thunder.

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1. Not Godot's Lucky!

2. Beckett did work, after all, as Joyce's assistant, and was also involved for a time with his daughter Lucia. More on that later.

3. In Greek mythology, Proteus is a shape-changing and prophetic sea-god who knew the past, present, and future. He's regarded by Jung, among others, as the personification of the unconscious.