of our forefathers. We brag about our past glories and we hope for a better life ahead. We love conversation and sitting around, good food and passionate affairs, standing on beaches, swimming in the warm seas, drinking ourselves into contentment, sitting under the stars. We start making things then forget to finish them. We are articulate and talkative, but we only quarrel for the excitement of it. We are guilty of self-indulgence, irrational behaviour, illogical arguments, sometimes indolence, a musing state of mind.
Our palette of emotional colours is the islands themselves and the mysterious sea channels that churn between them. We relish our sea breezes, our regular monsoons, the banks of piling clouds that dramatize the seascapes, the sudden squalls, the colour of the light reflecting from the dazzling sea, the lazy heat, the currents and the tides and the unexplained gales, and on the whole prefer not to know whence they have come, nor whither they are destined.
As for this book, I declare that it will do no harm.
It is in fact to be commended. It is a typical island enterprise: it is incomplete, a bit muddled and it wants to be liked. The unidentified writer or writers of these brief sketches have an agenda which is not mine, but I do not object to it.
I did not write this book, although there have already been rumours that I did. This is the moment to aver that there is no truth in the rumours. I am in fact sceptical of the whole enterprise while liking it a great deal.
The book is arranged in alphabetical order and it is intended that it should be read in that order. However, as most people are supposedly expected to use it as a work of reference, or as a travel guide, then the order in which the articles have been placed is completely irrelevant. I do maintain, though, that few will be able to ‘use’ this book in the way it is presumably intended, so the alphabet is as good a basis as any from which to start.
One of the reasons for its lack of usefulness is something the reader should be warned about. Not every entry here is strictly factual. I found it surprising that in some cases the islands are described not by their physical characteristics, but by narratives concerning events that took place on them or people who did something while there. There is always a lot to be said for indirect truth, for metaphors, but if you are looking up a hotel in which you might wish to reserve a room, you probably do not want to read instead a biography of the proprietor. There is altogether too much of this kind of thing, but it is for some reason the chosen method of these gazetteers. I find it rather charming, but as a non-traveller I am always much more interested in the lives of hotel proprietors than I am in the rooms they have for rent.
Finally, it seems to me innocuous and even attractive to be urging travel to so many places at once, but it is in fact pointless when so few readers will act on the recommendation.
Any direction or travel plan within the Dream Archipelago more ambitious than being ferried across to the next island is usually a matter of guesswork or hazard. Because of the mapping problem, if you seek to land on any of the islands recommended by this gazetteer you will almost invariably turn up somewhere else. Furthermore, should you attempt to return whence you came, your difficulties will multiply.
Our history has largely been created by adventurers and entrepreneurs who arrived somewhere other than on the island they sought. The ones who landed where they intended frequently found that matters were not as they expected. Our history is full of people going, becoming confused, and then coming back or wandering off somewhere else.
Even so, finding any of these attractive places by chance, as that is the only way to appreciate them fully, will be a reward in itself, so it is my view that the foreknowledge these gazetteers are so keen to impart will always be irrelevant.
Prepare yourself by all means for the no doubt maddening and illogical local currency, be warned of the sometimes inexplicable local laws, know in advance the best spot from which to observe a cathedral, a mountain, or a group of mendicant artists, discover the patois name for the forest through which you plan to dawdle, brush up your knowledge of ancient arguments and abandoned diggings and installations of art, because you must be ready for anything that might occur.
None of it is real, though, because reality lies in a different, more evanescent realm. These are only the names of some of the places in the archipelago of dreams. The true reality is the one you perceive around you, or that which you are fortunate enough to imagine for yourself.
A Gazetteer of Islands
Island of Winds
Calm Place
Jaem Aubrac
Rain Shadow
Silent Rain
Sharp Rocks
Large Home
Serene Depths
Dark Home
Her Home
Evening Wind
All Free
Spoiled Sand
Hanging Head
Be Welcome
Fragrant Spring
Chill Wind
The Seacaptain
Peace Earned
Grey Soreness
Two Horse
Remembered Love
Half Completed
Half Started
Bearer of Messages
Fast Wanderer
The Drone
Drifting Water
Red Jungle
Threshold of Love
Big Island
Yard of Bones
Slow Tide
Steep Hillside
Followed Path
Path Followed
Declare
Sing
Spoor
The Trace
Hissing Waters
Dead Tower
The Glass
High
