Society Ludvika: Separatists of Smith, Sorcery, and Sea

By Hugo Hennegau

Summer. 1990. West Germany. Conversation over a sketchbook outside Museum Holstentor reveals a foreigner’s errand. Drawings show me various oddities hammered by her kinsman from a burial megalith. Cast into the Baltic Sea in 1582, these occult reductions have seen resurfacing.

Society Ludvika is a lyrical collection of suppressed paths and pathfinders, that an arsonist’s sketchbook survives solely to bring to light.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Jun 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781483449401

Book preview

Society Ludvika

Separatists of Smith, Sorcery, and Sea

HUGO HENNEGAU

Copyright © 2016 Hugo Hennegau.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

Certain characters in this work are historical figures, and certain events portrayed did take place. However, this is a work of fiction. All of the other characters, names, and events as well as all places, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-4939-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-4940-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016905228

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

All images are the author’s work, exclusive of 1 and 2.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 07/08/2016

Dedication

Amongst Lindbergh, de Gaulle and Darwin a dory divvied. Without A’s anchor but stowed in row - wit, weathers and crow.

For its fourth and only fore’s fare - a sea-dog, whose press outcrests the three and over whose whitecaps howls a peace in his solitude asea; for the gamest of their pedigree, the three’s.

For my father, Charles IV.

Contents

Catlike Carriages Across Two Karelias 39363.png

Nyyrikki Aghast 39360.png

House V21 Is Jekaterinburg 39357.png

Born in Lorne (Ava’s Lyric) 39354.png

The Stacheldraht-Trotter 39351.png

Anti-Attic Passage, Part I 39348.png

Relation I. A Wagon’s Wolves Over Ludvika

Relation II. Tolled by Shoals of Seawolf and Witch-Black Eel

Relation III. In the Water-Wheel, an Animal of Weather

Relation IV. April Lyrids

Relation V. The Uncoffiner

Was on Hawk Mountain Road 39340.png

Rautanauloista, a Blanket (Saga One of Order Ansus) 39337.png

Relation I. Daughter of the Woodcutter

Relation II. Daughter of Raako’s Debt

SZ 109 39332.png

The Running Graves 39329.png

Opritschniks Outside the Belfry 39326.png

Theodor’s Storm 39323.png

Stringer of Bows, Thrower of Arrows 39320.png

Saxo’s Condition, Part III 39316.png

Catlike Carriages Across Two Karelias 34365.png

The birch-giants will grade into a dale,

Their roots caper in eights for an enlistment of nine,

Per birch, and so along the dale’s forerunning esker, or upland, fringing the eskermen’s plane by a subterranean plumbing of green, arcane geysercraft.

Subalpine wire self-barbs in maze of those grazing the esker-perimeter,

Its temper is appled and watches us through holes we have gnarled in its skin,

In a fever unhayed, our carriages carry.

An archived wound yawns, devolving fourfold on our collective as would red to eiderdown; whispers to that effect stage our kneeling under Warholian arrest,

Here the archivists curated cassettes of their second Karelian cabinet; those voice-confirmed stood from kneecap and flew northwards over us, like phoenixes of the unforgotten,

Through the wire-holes and into our laps falls a phenotype fractionally safer than the bullets fired overhead to have bread spit from everyone’s mouths; photographed by Tatar ASSR’s Film Factory No. 8, we recoil.

These whooper-eggs trundle off each of our four laps into seventy thousand shards of shell, amongst which orange-spotted skulls sift in salvage of a genealogy,

In petroglyphic measure of one whoopling to another, reflecting back at us where once began miners are copper-clusters of miskept muscle, skin and mind,

A setting house above of four hundred thousand fowl messages us through a submigratory mass, addressing compasslike a forested isthmus and delivering to us an appointment with their postmaster.

Low-lying clouds for a spying jackal cackle from the overabsorption of vagrant comets and nonastral light,

As lost letters, we are forwarded facelessly in another’s charity,

As houseguests recessed, our carriages carry.

Rain’s neutral army unequips, overrunning foot- and hoofprints; we collect from them vests and decrypted volleys for wear,

Playing leashlessly between bread-lines and rinsed of domestication, we stray,

We splash in the irrigation-canals of collapsed ground; the water by sky evicted, howbeit all the more unbecoming of it,