"Well, the voice, yes: gramophone. Have a gramophone in every grave or keep it in the house. After dinner on a Sunday. Put on poor old greatgrandfather. Kraahraark! Hellohellohello amawfullyglad kraark awfullygladaseeagain hellohello amawf krpthsth. Remind you of the voice like the photograph reminds you of the face." (U6.962)
"Otherwise you couldn't remember the face after fifteen years, say. For instance who? For instance some fellow that died when I was in Wisdom Hely's." (U6.968)
"Rtststr! A rattle of pebbles. Wait. Stop!
He looked down intently into a stone crypt. Some animal. Wait. There he goes.
An obese grey rat toddled along the side of the crypt, moving the pebbles. An old stager: greatgrandfather: he knows the ropes. The grey alive crushed itself in under the plinth, wriggled itself in under it.
Good hidingplace for treasure." (U6.970)
He looked down intently into a stone crypt. Some animal. Wait. There he goes.
An obese grey rat toddled along the side of the crypt, moving the pebbles. An old stager: greatgrandfather: he knows the ropes. The grey alive crushed itself in under the plinth, wriggled itself in under it.
Good hidingplace for treasure." (U6.970)
"Who lives there? Are laid the remains of Robert Emery. Robert Emmet was buried here by torchlight," (U6.977)
"wasn't he?" (U6.978)
To this day it is not known where the remains of Robert Emmet are laid, possibly in Glasnevin or in the yard of St Michan Church, as this PC suggests.
To this day it is not known where the remains of Robert Emmet are laid, possibly in Glasnevin or in the yard of St Michan Church, as this PC suggests.
"Making his rounds.
Tail gone now.
One of those chaps would make short work of a fellow." (U6.978)
Tail gone now.
One of those chaps would make short work of a fellow." (U6.978)
"Pick the bones clean no matter who it was. Ordinary meat for them. A corpse is meat gone bad. Well and what's cheese? Corpse of milk. I read in that Voyages in China that the Chinese say a while man smells like a corpse." (U6.980)
"Cremation better. Priests dead against it. Devilling for the other firm. Wholesale burners and Dutch oven dealers." (U6.984)
"Time of the plague. Quicklime fever pit to eat them. Lethal chamber. Ashes to ashes. Or bury at sea." (U6.695)
"Where is that Parsee tower of silence? Eaten by birds. Earth, fire, water. Drowning they say is the pleasantest." (U6.987)
The towers of silence (dakhma, dokhma, or doongerwadi) are circular raised structures used by Zoroastrians for exposure of the dead, as they consider a dead body to be nasu (= unclean). Corpses are thus exposed to the sun and to birds of prey, precluding the pollution of earth or fire. Bodies are arranged in 3 rings: men on the outside, women in the second circle, and children innermost. (Image courtesy of the ZJJF)
The towers of silence (dakhma, dokhma, or doongerwadi) are circular raised structures used by Zoroastrians for exposure of the dead, as they consider a dead body to be nasu (= unclean). Corpses are thus exposed to the sun and to birds of prey, precluding the pollution of earth or fire. Bodies are arranged in 3 rings: men on the outside, women in the second circle, and children innermost. (Image courtesy of the ZJJF)
The ritual precinct of the towers of silence may only be entered by a special class of pallbearers. Once the bones have been bleached by the sun and wind, which can take as long as a year, they are collected in an ossuary pit at the center of the tower and/or are eventually washed out to sea. In Parsi Zoroastrian tradition (India), exposure of the dead is additionally considered to be an individual's final act of charity, in sustaining the birds.
"See your whole life in a flash. But being brought back to life no." (U6.988)
"Can't bury in the air however. Out of a flying machine. Wonder does the news go about whenever a fresh one is let down. Underground communication. We learned that from them." (U6.989)
"Wouldn't be surprised. Regular square feed for them. Flies come before he's well dead. Got wind of Dignam. They wouldn't care about the smell of it. Saltwhite crumbling mush of corpse: smell, taste like raw white turnips." (U6.990)
"The gates glimmered in front: still open. Back to the world again." (U6.995)
"Enough of this place. Brings you a bit nearer every time. Last time I was here was Mrs Sinico's funeral. Poor papa too. The love that kills. And even scraping up the earth at night with a lantern like that case I read of to get at fresh buried females or even putrefied with running gravesores. Give you the creeps after a bit." (U6.996)