Creation Page #2

You would have us all rebuild,

plank by plank,

the very vessel in which we sail?

Oh, come, come, Charles! Did...

Did God's laws change your Fuegians?

Was Jenny the ape any less personable

for not being a person?

Our behaviour, like our physical forms,

evolves according to our needs.

Your very own words, sir!

And thus, in time, we lose those parts

that are no longer required.

Like the appendix, the male nipple,

and finally, thank Christ,

our belief

in an utterly redundant Almighty!

Mr Hooker?

I... implore you,

please do not push him.

No one can push Charles.

You know how fixed he is.

- Bit of a barnacle himself, really.

- Yes.

And if you prise him from his rock,

he will die.

Come on, Hooker. It'll be dark soon.

So, what did she say to you?

She said it was killing him.

Yes. Mighty slow death considering the

length of time he's sat on this stuff.

We shall all be dead and buried

ourselves if he takes much longer.

Yes, since his girl died,

one has to admit...

he's not the man he was.

When are you going to be done

with those stinky old barnacles?

Well, I've been chasing

this little crustacean

in all of its evolutionary forms

over 30 million years.

Now, eight years doesn't seem a very

long time to achieve that, does it?

What does "procrastinating" mean?

Oh, I think you know very well

what it means, Annie.

It means putting things off. Why?

That's what Mr Hooker

thinks you're doing.

Does he indeed?

Is it because of Mama

or what's in that box?

Both.

- I should probably just burn the lot.

- You can't. I'm in it.

Don't be absurd! Of course you're not.

- What do you mean?

- When I was a baby, you said.

- Oh, that.

- The Natural History of Babies.

Yes, that's right.

Look at my finger.

Oh, you're so strong! You're so strong!

Here. Annie.

I think that will not help her sleep.

I'm sure you're probably right.

Who's that?

Who is that? Is that you?

Oh, sweetheart. Oh, I'm so sorry.

Oh, what a mean old papa you have.

Oh, sweetheart!

Oh, what a mean old papa you have!

What a mean old...

What a mean old man you have!

Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

"Six weeks:
gurgles."

"Tries to suck.

Holds tight to my finger."

"Perceives bosom

when three or four inches from it."

I should add that she's musical.

I hope you do not plan to treat all our

children as specimens of the ape genus

to be included in your experiments.

All of our children?

You mean you want more?

Oh, sorry. I assumed.

No, if the idea doesn't appeal,

then we won't have any more children.

Darling, I have plans to breed

an entire army of them.

Look at that. That's called the waltz.

Careful, now! Not too far ahead.

- Make yourself useful, Hooker.

- Stay away from that water!

Fear not, Brodie,

I have them in my sights. Children!

Now, which of the four of you

would be the first who would

like to learn how to hook a worm?

Me! Me!

"A little further on,

the leading Highlander snuffed the wind

like a setting Spaniel,

and then made a signal to his party

again to halt."

"He stooped down upon all fours,

wrapped up in his plaid..."

- Look what I found, Mama.

- Look at that.

- What shall I feed it?

- Let's ask Reverend Innes.

Oh, erm...

A leaf, I should think.

Necrophorus humator, isn't he, Charles?

- Rather a splendid specimen.

- Yes, he is. He's a... carnivore.

He eats carrion and insects.

Boys! We need carrion and insects!

Look, here's a worm, here's a worm.

- An earwig! Squish it!

- No, don't kill it.

I know that expression.

He's dreaming of his glory days when he

was unencumbered with wife and family.

Free to wander the planet.

Actually, I was...

I was remembering how the tropical seas

teemed with living particles

that seemed to surround the Beagle

with a luminous glow

and leave a glistening pathway

through the night.

Puzzling.

So much beauty for so little purpose.

So little purpose? They were helping

to light the ship's way.

Well said. Exactly.

John, are you familiar

with the works of Thomas Malthus?

- He married his first cousin.

- So did I.

- Yes, but I wasn't suggesting that...

- Of course you weren't.

Anyway,

Thomas Malthus calculated that if,

well, if every trout, say,

had a hundred or so offspring

and so on and so forth

throughout the generations,

we'd be knee-deep in trout

in just a few decades.

How would you respond to that?

I'd respond by saying that

most of the eggs are destroyed or eaten

so that the numbers remain stable.

That's the beauty of God's plan.

It doesn't strike you

as a wasteful plan,

these myriad lives created

only to be immediately extinguished?

- They provide food for others.

- Cheese and cucumber?

Thousands die

so that only a few may live.

Is not the sum total of happiness

in some sort of massive deficit?

Charles, it is really not my duty

to speculate on the mind of God,

but it does seem to me

that nature is at peace.

There is another view.

That all of nature is a battlefield.

Remind me where I read that.

- This is very good.

- Good. Shall I continue?

Hmm, please do.

"In a short time, he returned,

and dismissed his attendants,

excepting one,

and intimating to Waverley that

he must imitate his cautious way..."

"'Now,' thought Christian,

'What shall I do?"'

"And ever and anon the flame and smoke

would come out in such abundance

with sparks and hideous noises that

Christian was forced to put up his sword

and betake himself to another weapon

called All Prayer."

Let us stop there.

Is Papa not coming

to kiss us goodnight?

He is a little unwell

from working. Maybe tomorrow.

You said that last night.

I think when Annie died,

he stopped loving us.

No, Etty.

He's just a little bit tired

and a little bit busy.

Goodnight, darling.

- What are you doing, Annie?

- I'm making you beautiful.

But I need to think.

What are you so scared of?

- It's only a theory.

- No, they're right.

It changes everything.

Suppose the whole world

stopped believing

that God had any sort of plan for us.

That nothing mattered.

Not love, not trust.

Not faith, not honour.

Only brute survival.

Apart from anything else,

it would break your mother's heart.

Hearts can't break, silly.

You told me that.

Breathe in, Papa. Breathe out.

- Tell me a story.

- Alright. What about?

About Jenny.

- It's late. I have no time.

- Please?

- Why Jenny? It's so sad.

- I like sad stories.

Once upon a time,

there was a family of orang-utans

living in the deepest jungles

of Borneo.

Their eldest daughter

was the most loving, the most caring,

and the most trusting orang of all.

But she was also the most...

Intelligent.

Well, I was going to say inquisitive.

Did I neglect to mention

she was not always

the most obedient of creatures?

By the time she realised her danger,

it was too late.

They put her in a bag

and they carried her off...

Much to her loving parents' despair.

So sorry. Much to her loving parents'

despair, of course. And the Dayaks

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