Le Dieu de l'Ire

Philip K. Dick and Roger Zelazny. Deus Irae. 1976. NY: Dell Publishing, 1980.

• Pete tells to a girl named Turine why men got banned from the Garden of Eden.

“'How did man and God get separated?' Like a child, she listened attentively, awaiting the true tale.

Pete said cryptically, 'A quarrel so old that the story is garbled. Somehow God set man up where He could reach man daily, regularly; they were in direct touch, the way you and I are now. But something happened and somehow they wound up like Leibnitz's windowless monads, near each other but unable to perceive anything outside; only able to scrutinize their own beings. A sort of schizophrenia evidently set in, on the part of one of them or both; autism—separation. And then man — '

'Man was driven out. Physically away.'

Pete said, 'Evidently man did something, or anyhow God thought he had. We don't know precisely what it was. He was corrupted, anyhow, through nature or some natural substance; something made by God and part of His creation. So man sank out of direct contact and down to the level of mere creation. And we have to make our way back.'” (43)

• During his pilgrimage, Tibor meets the Great C, a robot that has been built before Earth were destroyed by nukes (prewar). The robot is pretty talkative and serves as a witness of the past before the apocalypse.

“'You know,' the Great C said, 'I have existed a long time. I remember life before the Smash. I could tell you many things about it. Life was much different then. You wear a beard and hunt animals in the woods. Before the Smash there were no woods. Only cities and farms. And men were clean-shaven. Many of them wore white clothing, then. They were scientists. They were very fine. I was constructed by engineers; they were a form of scientist.' She paused. 'Do you recognize the name Einstein? Albert Einstein?''” (100)

• Tibor is still on his pilgrimage. He meets a very interesting kind of bird

The bird sang words, now. Brighten up the corner, it called. Again it sang the few words, and then thrilled out, Praise him from whom the wing and trees, the rocks and thank you. Tweet, toddle. It started from the beginning again, tracing each previous outburst.
A meta-mutant bird, he realized. A teilhard de chardin: forward oddity. . . .” (125)

• Pete is following Tibor. On his way, he finds an autofac (a porte-manteau word probably made out of 'automated factory'). He approaches the machine, which is dysfunctional, and addresses it with much reverence:

“'Uh—Your Fabricatorship?' he ventured.
Nothing.
'… Processor, Producer, Distributor, Maintainer,' he went on, a portion of the ritual now occuring to him, 'Great Maker-Good on warranties, excluding labor and parts. I, a humble consumer, Pete Sands by name, beg leave to make representations before you.'” (169)

• Rilke's poem Abend (173):

Der Abend wechselt langsam die Gewänder,
die ihm Rand von alten Bäumen hält;
du schaust: und von dir scheiden sich die Länder,
ein himmelfahrendes und eins, das fällt;

und lassen dich, zu keinem ganz gehörend,
nicht ganz so dunkel wie das Haus, das schweigt,
nicht ganz so sicher Ewiges beschwörend
wie das, was Stern wird jede Nacht und steight;

und lassen die (unsäglich zu entwirnn)
dein Leben, bang und riesenhaft und reifend,
so dasz es, bald begrenzt und bald begreifend,
abwechselnd Stein in dir wird und Gestirn.

• Tibor and Pete talk about paintings and how Wieth's pictures “looked exceptionally real.”

“'Pete,' he said, 'there are an infinite number of ways of showing how things actually look. They are all of them right, because they show it. Yet each artist goes about it differently. It is partly what you choose to emphasize and partly how you do it. It is plain that you have never painted.'” (212)