At first thought, this seems to be the most unnatural of the five elementals in Chinese cosmology. That’s because I am used to thinking of metal in terms of the things made of metal: swords, knives, cars, jewelry and the rest.
But a childhood memory suggests otherwise. The northwestern New Jersey town of Belvidere, where I grew up, sits on the Delaware River. In a spot not far from town, there was an interesting natural landmark, which as far as I know is still there: a large, half-submerged meteorite.
The river’s course winds through the Slate Belt, and the thick riverside vegetation pushes out between long, blue-grey outcroppings that slant down into the water’s edge. This provided a stark contrast to the meteorite. Its high iron and nickel content gave it a dark bronze coIor. Its matte surface was pitted with holes of many sizes. It was longer than it was wide, perhaps 10 to 15 feet in length, but chewed to pieces on all sides, like a hunk of Swiss cheese that had been nibbled by rats and then dropped from the top of the Empire State Building.
I first saw it when I was about eight, on a Memorial Day picnic with family and friends. It was a family landmark in my mother’s and grandfather’s childhood memories too. They both had canoed on the Delaware and knew all of its channels and hazards. The meteorite would have made short work on the hull of any vessel, so they only got close to it while walking safely on the shore.
As I reflect on this traveler from outer space, now resting in the river, the element of metal feels universal and primordial. Billions and billions of miles away, it hurtled through the galaxy and got pummeled by who knows what before landing in the river. It must have been quite an impact. If it could tell the story of its scars, what wonders would it reveal? Tales of energy, matter, heat, light, cold emptiness and collision. Ending with a random collision in a particular place at a particular time.
Another random tale of metal, time and space inhabits my memory: the legend of King Arthur and the sword in the stone. In The Once and Future King, T.H. White describes the event that led to King Arthur’s reign. Young Arthur, or the Wart, as he is nicknamed, has accompanied his adopted family to Sir Kay’s knighting ceremony. But the tempestuous and inept Sir Kay, son and heir to Sir Ector’s title and estate, has forgotten his sword. The young heir, two years older than Arthur and anxious to show his superiority, sends Arthur back to the estate for his sword. Feeling resentful at being treated like a lowly squire, Arthur passes a churchyard and spies a sword stuck through an anvil and into a stone below. This solves his problem, he thinks – the sword is right there, and it would solve Kay’s dilemma and also save the Wart a hurried horseback ride back to Sir Ector’s castle. Of course, he does not know that whoever pulls out this sword will be the King of England. He only sees that it is a sword, out there in the open, and he needs one.
As he approaches and grasps the sword’s hilt, things shift to the otherworldly.
”’I feel strange when I have hold of this sword, and I notice everything much more clearly…There is something in this place. There are people. Oh, people, what do you want?’” Arthur asks. He gives a few good tugs, to no avail. He calls on his former teacher for help. ‘Oh, Merlyn, help me to get this weapon.’ Then, “There was a kind of rushing noise, and a long chord played along with it. All round the churchyard there were hundreds of old friends…there were badgers and nightingales and vulgar crows and hares and wild geese and falcons and fishes and dogs and dainty unicorns and solitary wasps and corkindrills and hedgehogs and griffins and the thousand other animals he had met. They loomed around the church wall, the lovers and helpers of the Wart, and they all spoke solemnly in turn. Some of them had come from the banners in the church, where they were painted in heraldry, some from the waters in the sky and the fields about—but all, down to the smallest shrew mouse, had come to help on account of love.”
These animals are all friends from Merlyn’s teachings. The wizard had introduced each of them to Arthur, and transformed him so he could learn firsthand of their various special powers. Each animal offers advice and encouragement to Arthur. The final word comes from a seabird. “’Now, Wart, if you were once able to fly the great North Sea, surely you can co-ordinate a few little wing-muscles here and there? Fold your powers together, with the spirit of your mind, and it will come out like butter. Come along, Homo Sapiens, for all we humble friends of yours are waiting to cheer.’”
“The Wart walked up to the great sword for the third time. He put out his right hand and drew it out as gently as from a scabbard.”
I am very fond of this story, and of the quote within it. I read this book decades ago, and I have yet to find better words to summarize the power of love and fate than the quote above.
We come upon accidental circumstances, all day and every day, and we are made up of experiences that launch us in an infinite number of directions. Like the meteorite, crashing and sliding through space, metal is elemental in both these stories— in space and in stones.
