The Meaning of Life

[Aethix 129]

So this is just a little story I wrote for my final assignment for my Fiction Writing class. Since it got me an A for the assignment, I figured I'd just share it here. On an somewhat related note, can somebody please modify the forums to allow leading spaces for indentation purposes?

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Once there lived a simple woodcutter. He was an honest and hardworking fellow. Every morning he would wake up at the crack of dawn and cut down trees until it grew dark again. As this ordinary routine continued, the woodcutter began to think about things. He thought about where the sun went each night when it set. He thought about all the stars in the sky. But the thing he thought about the most was the meaning of life.

At night he would lie awake to think about the meaning of life. During the day he would lose himself in thought for as much as hours at a time. His friends all laughed and told him he thought too much—but the woodcutter would not be dissuaded. One day, the merchant who bought the wood he cut told him about a wise man who lived on the summit of a mountain.

“They say the wise man knows all there is to know in the world.”

Then surely the wise man knows the meaning of life, the woodcutter thought. He then resolved to travel to the mountain, climb to its summit, and ask the wise man to tell him the meaning of life.

On his way to the mountain, the woodcutter happened upon a wolf trapped in a net. The wolf tried and tried to free himself—but the net only grew more tangled around him. Feeling pity for the wolf, the man took his axe and sliced the net apart, freeing the creature.

“Thank you, kind woodcutter,” said the wolf, “I am in your debt. If you ever have any need of me, I will do whatever you ask.” The wolf then disappeared into the surrounding forest.

As the woodcutter continued his journey through the forest, he spied a crow transfixed by the paralyzing stare of large snake. Now the woodcutter, much like his friends and neighbors, detested snakes and would kill any he found as a matter of course. He crept behind the snake, too preoccupied by its prey to notice him, and cut off its head.

“Thank you, kind woodcutter,” said the crow, “you have saved me from becoming a meal for that vile serpent. If ever you have need of me, please do not hesitate to ask for my aid.”

The woodcutter finally reached the foot of the mountain, and began to climb up its slope. After a while, the woodcutter grew quite thirsty. Following the sound of water, he eventually found a rushing stream. Standing on the shore was a large black bear; clinging to a rock jutting from the water was a small cub. Determining that the cub was in danger of drowning, the woodcutter quickly cut down a large tree. It fell into the stream and made a bridge for the young bear to crawl safely back to shore.

“Thank you, kind woodcutter,” said the bear, “If not for you, my little cub would have surely drowned! If you are ever in need of my strength, call on me so that I may return the favor.”

After a brief respite by the river followed by a long climb, the woodcutter finally reached the top of the mountain. Sitting on the highest point was a small man dressed in a fine robe with a flowing white beard. He sat on an ornate rug busying himself reading a large, thick book with a cover decorated in letters the woodcutter could not read. This must be the wise man, the woodcutter thought, and made his way forward.

“For what reason have you journeyed to visit me, my son?” asked the wise man, slowly closing his book.

“O wise man, I have been plagued by many thoughts and questions. Every night, I lie awake and ponder the meaning of life. I have journeyed through a thick forest and climbed this high mountain to ask you: what is the meaning of life?”

The wise man closed his eyes and stroked his beard thoughtfully. “If you truly wish to hear, I will tell you. However, my knowledge—like all things of this world—comes at a price.”

“I am but a poor woodcutter, so I cannot offer you much. However, if you ask it, I would gladly give you my home and everything I possess. What is your price?”

“My price is neither gold nor silver, nor any other precious thing. If you wish to know the meaning of life, you must first pass my three trials. Though I must warn you: many men, knights and kings among them, have come to me asking the same question and undertaken my trials. But none have ever been able to overcome them.”

“If it will satisfy my ponderings, I will overcome any and all obstacles, no matter how difficult they may be. Name your trials, wise one.”

The wise man leaned back; a smile parted his withered jowls. “Very well. First, you must catch the fastest rabbit that lives on this mountain and bring it to me so that I may eat it. However, you are permitted to use neither bow nor snare, nor any other huntsman’s tool. Will you undertake this trial?”

The woodcutter knew that he was not fast enough to chase down any rabbit, much less the fastest one on the mountain. Nevertheless, he was so determined to learn the meaning of life that he went to hunt the rabbit anyways. However, even when he found and chased it, the rabbit would always dart just out of his grasp. He continued this futile pursuit for some time, until a wolf suddenly appeared before him. The woodcutter was frightened at first, but he soon recognized the wolf as the one he had rescued earlier.

“Woodcutter, why is it that you chase rabbits about with naught but your hands like an animal? Are you not a man, who can capture any prey he desires with weapons and traps?” So the woodcutter explained the wise man’s trial to the wolf. “Then let me capture this rabbit for you, so that you may pass your trial.” The wolf then ran with lightning speed after the rabbit and easily caught it within his jaws. The woodcutter took the rabbit before the wise man, who put it in a stew and ate it with relish.

“You have done well, woodcutter, in passing this first trial. But the second trial will not be so easy. The stew made from the fastest rabbit has made me quite thirsty. You must go to the lake at the foot of the mountain and bring me enough water so that I may be satisfied. However, you are permitted to use neither cup nor jar, nor any other vessel of artisan’s craft. Will you undertake this trial?”

When the woodcutter reached the lake, he immediately cupped the water within his hands and began to make his way back. However, when he tried to climb back up the steep mountain with his hands cupped in front of him, he quickly lost his balance and spilled the water on the ground around him. The crow he had rescued earlier, observing this strange scene, swooped down and said to the woodcutter: “Woodcutter, why is it that you try to carry water up a mountain with naught but your hands? Are you not a man, who can scoop any liquid into a cup, a basin, or a jar, and carry it that way?” So the woodcutter explained the wise man’s trial to the crow. After hearing the man’s tale, the crow flew to the lake and scooped up some water in his beak and poured it into the wise man’s mouth. He flew down the lake and back many times, until the wise man was satisfied.

“You have done well, woodcutter, in passing this second trial. However, the final trial will be the hardest of them all. Halfway down this mountain, there lies a large boulder, twice as big around as you are tall. You must dislodge this boulder and open the cave which lies beneath it. However, you are permitted to use neither lever nor rope, nor any other workman’s tool. Will you undertake this trial?”

The woodcutter walked halfway down the mountain, and found the boulder the wise man spoke of. He pushed and he heaved, but the boulder had been stuck in the ground for years, and would not budge for him. Drawn by the sounds of the woodcutter’s grunts of exertion, the black bear whose cub he had rescued wandered toward him. “Woodcutter, why is it that you try to push away a large boulder with nothing but your little strength? Are you not a man, who can use levers and ropes to move such heavy objects about?” So the woodcutter explained the wise man’s trial to the bear. The bear then pushed the boulder aside with her great strength, and opened the cave beneath it. The cave looked like it would serve as a comfortable place for the wise man to spend the cold nights of the winter months.

When the woodcutter presented himself before the wise man a fourth time, the wise man was most impressed. “Woodcutter, you are the first man who has been able to pass my three trials. In recognition of your strength, resourcefulness, and tenacity, I will grant your wish and tell you the meaning of life.” The wise man then opened his thick his thick tome and began to flip through its yellowed pages. He would flip pages one way, and then another, and then the opposite way once again. He soon stopped, and ran his finger down the page. He then sat the book down on the ground in front of him, finger held in place, and began to read aloud in an authoritative voice:

“Life! Noun! One: the condition that distinguishes organisms from inorganic objects and dead organisms, being manifested by growth through metabolism, reproduction, and—“

And then the woodcutter beat the wise man to death with his own dictionary.

Meaning_of_Life.doc