The Infinite Matrix | Michael Swanwick & Francisco Goya | The Sleep Of

Reason 42

12.19.02

the sleep of reason

by Michael Swanwick

with illustrations by

Francisco JosÉ de Goya y Lucientes

Click image to enlarge

Digital image © copyright

Davison Art Center,

Wesleyan University

DAC permission required

for any other use.

42. [Plate 67]

Paint Your Goat

Are you ready for the holidays? Have you carved your pumpkins, set out

your corn shocks, crucified a cat or two, and painted the names of your

tutelary demons on the walls in pig's blood? Good! But have you painted

your goat?

Nothing says Walpurgisnacht like a good ripe goat, tastefully decorated

in a manner reminiscent of ruined monasteries, jeweled skulls,

impalement, and the sad death of kings. In Europe, of course, they have

lackeys to perform such chores for them. We sturdy scions of democracy

must make do for ourselves. But there's no reason we can't turn out a

goat as good as any in France.

Here's how:

First, take off your clothes. Why? Because it's more amusing that way.

Now shave your goat's belly in one long, continual spiral, to represent

the descent into death and rebirth. You want to evoke the left-hand path,

so don't make the beginner's mistake of curling the spiral wrong way

around. Widdershins, remember! Countersunwise!

Along that spiral, using a goose quill pen, in elegant flowing cursive

copy out your pledge to sell your soul to the Devil. If you haven't sold

him your soul yet, for goodness sake be sure to do it before the

solstice! If you wait, you can't declare it on this year's tax form.

Fennel is the new lavender. Gather up the remaining fur in tufts, and tie

them around twigs of fennel with little bows of hand-woven ribbon. Add a

light dusting of marjoram. As a rule, anything that would go well with

roasted goat flesh is appropriate; this is, after all, the season in

which we contemplate our mortality. Give your goat something to think

about as well!

Time now to gilt the horns. Rather than simply slathering on the gold

paint, why not go for a more sophisticated look? Try sponging on the

gilt, or, better yet, applying it with a coarse brush and then dragging a

cloth over the horns, so that the highlights are removed and what remains

suggests an ancestral goat – one that's been passed down in the family

for dozens of generations, kept alive, perhaps, by sacrifices too

gruesome to mention.

A touch of clear shellac for the hoofs, and your Walpurgis-goat is done.

Enjoy! And don't forget to deck his balls!

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This is the 42nd of 80 stories by Michael Swanwick written to accompany

Francisco Goya's Los Caprichos. For a listing of the most recently

available stories, go to The Sleep of Reason.

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