The Song Itself
A Gnostic Rememberance


Authored Anonymously





Translated
by

Yäq Cuartz
A copyright has been established for the contents of this site.  Please don't
duplicate or publish any part of it without the permission of its creator.
Thanks,
Yäq Cuartz
Translator’s Preface:

Fortune shined upon me the day I found this mysterious autobiography in our city’s central library.  It was without
barcode, ISBN or Dewey decimal designation.  At the time, I was perusing books on woodworking.  I planned to build a
bridal gazebo for my now ex-fiancé (an investment in a mail-order bride will not pay off, I must warn the reader; if one
chooses this form of matrimony, keep her away from hot-dog venders—they are a randy and unscrupulous lot).  The
codex stood betwixt Mrs. Ann Tinomy’s The Art of Luthiery: A Discourse on the Foundations of the Techne of Song and
her sumptuously illustrated tome titled Carving Crazy Cats: The Weekend Whittler’s Guide to Wacky Statues of Bastet (a
book that is filled with both practical carving techniques and stories concerning the Egyptian feline goddess; I encourage
all to pick it up at their leisure).   The manuscript was enclosed within a weathered and deteriorating goatskin cover—
stitched to form a small briefcase-like satchel.  Geometrical shapes (intersecting circles and triangles) were etched on
this cover.  It looked much like those other Gnostic codices found by a certain Egyptian farmer while he was digging for
guano in the Nag Hammadi Valley.  Upon opening the book, I found it was written in a language resembling Greek.  I took
it from the shelves and hid it in my coat, so captivated by its enigmatic script and binding.  

After some investigation, I discovered that the codex was written in several languages, some ancient and others of a
more modern pedigree.  Most of the manuscript, I have come to learn, was written in a particularly old form of Greek.  
There were, however, also chapters in the Egyptian language of Coptic, Biblical Aramaic, and the climactic final chapters
were written in Pig Latin.  Many English words were also utilized, especially where purely modern ideas or devices were
described.  
I showed this codex to a professor of linguistics and ancient languages who was, at the time, lecturing at the local
university.  He enlightened me to the nature of the scripts.  When I attempted to enlist his help in its translation, he
informed me, “I would refuse to disgrace a fire with this bastardization of noble tongues,” adding with a snort, “even if I
were freezing to death.”  He was explaining, as I understood him, that his reverence for the work would compel him to die
of hypothermia before destroying such a masterpiece.  He would not translate the codex.  I think he was quite distraught
at lacking the mental and spiritual fortitude necessary to translate such a magnificent opus, for he fell into hyperbole,
saying it was “the worst Greek” he had ever seen (and he even personalized the attack, conveying something about my
profoundly vexing and obtuse nature).

After taking my proposed collaboration to other scholars, and receiving similarly reactive responses, I set upon the task
of translation alone.  I intensely studied the codex’s ancient forms of communication.  After feeling fairly comfortable with
these scripts, the call of translation seized me.  Although I feel that this current translation is quite ‘literal’, I have taken
some minor editorial liberties.  Realizing that many of our anonymous protagonist’s sentences lack either verb or noun
(and sometimes both), I illuminated these fragments with the most appropriate words. I have attempted to add only a few
short chapters of my own creation (to better express the author’s intentions), and have merely dismissed a few
paragraphs and one chapter from this version.  

Translation is an arduous and introspective process requiring spiritual stamina and mental focus, especially for the
newcomer.  It is my sincerest hope that I have accurately rendered the words of the original into a form that the English-
speaking world may appreciate and digest.  This translation has been a labor of love and has brought me, personally, to
an exhilarating stage of spiritual and intellectual growth.  I beg of you, dear reader, to breathe in the profound truths of
this document, allow it to dwell within you—making the words part of your innermost being as I have done.  For me, this
manuscript is more than just a collection of interesting characters and dilemmas, but a document of divine wisdom.

This manuscript holds within its pages the allegory of human resurrection on a sublime level.  Works, such as this one,
resound with the humbling, esoteric chime of human recognition.  Like this memoir, there are certain few works that
simultaneously embrace and ridicule the mysteries of man’s fate.  This book delves into one human being’s redemption.  
It is full of self-inflicted suffering and banal epiphany.  I believe it to be a factual account, despite the fact that our
protagonist is obviously liberal with the truth, that inconsistencies dominate the pages, and that supernatural phenomena
linger behind every word.  It is a story of inner struggle and redemption through experiential knowledge.

Interestingly, the entire drama unfolds before a Gnostic backdrop.  This term does not qualify a single sect of individuals
or a homogeneous philosophy; only through the systemization of common themes have we, moderns, ascribed these
various groups, some archaic and some more recent, with a single title.  Although academics continue to bicker about
the definition of Gnosticism and the common threads that draw together this complex of devotees, it seems clear that the
two dominant ideas of all these groups are experiential knowledge and some form of denial of the physical world.  Our
protagonist, too, journeys through a world where this type of gnosis is distilled.  
I hope, dear reader, that you find this historical document as enlightening and amusing as I do.  


Yäq “Oudeís” Cuartz
Portland, Oregon, February 2003   
This site is still under construction.  
There are a number of elements that
will, eventually (maybe in a week or a
decade), be available for you to enjoy
and purchase.  If you have found a
draft of Yäq's "Song" laying about
town, then you are lucky, for others will
have to wait for the first edition (poor
unfortunate ones).  The manuscript will
offered at Lulu.com in the coming
months.   I will let you know when you
can purchase it.  

Thanks for visiting!
Translated from the Coptic, Pig Latin, Aramaic and Greek by
Yäq Cuartz, “The Song Itself” is the memoir of a nameless and
sexless messenger whose memory and world are set ablaze by
contact with an ancient Gnostic codex.  After witnessing the
aftermath of a brutal murder ignited by the codex, the
protagonist must face a cult of arson-loving linguists, a luthier-
psychopomp, an Egyptian alchemist and a Dionysian ghost.  
Religious, mystical and philosophical elements burn in dreams,
conversations and events while the narrator seems to be
withholding a ghastly truth.  Sacrilegious and controversial, “The
Song Itself” is a caffeine ingesting, chain smoking tour through an
absurd world that is about to explode into flames.
Themes of site and art:   Alternative music, alternative literature, alternative lit,
independent publishing, indie publishing, independent literature, indie lit, indie
publishing, gnosis, gnostic, Oedipus, messenger, sexless, fire, cigarettes,
eclectic music, country, jazz, rock, folk, lutherie, guitars, guitar making, novel,
codex, manuscript, Hermes, Nag Hummadi, gospels, apocrypha, Zosima,
lingustics, Hegel, Kant, Plato, Barbelo, and much more...
All rights reserved for the
The Song Itself A Gnostic
Remembrance, Copyright
2007, Jacob Curtis