Lemurengarten Painting

The Simian Mummy On his way home after a long journey to far-away parts, a young gentleman fell into a terrible predicament while visiting a country inn. It appeared that the inn-keeper’s daughter had been murdered atrociously during the night, and, because the poor maiden’s brothers thought they had witnessed the young master interfering with her the previous evening, they now believed him to be the perpetrator. Then, when a couple of lads from a neighbouring hamlet also accused him of a shameful crime against a village beauty, it seemed that the traveller’s fate was sealed. At once they tied him with ropes and locked him in his chamber, seeking justice without a judge. While the country folk prepared to lynch him from the tallest tree on the village green, the Kranzedan, who was also lodging at the inn, quietly slipped up to the captive’s room, unbound him, and off they went through a backdoor. With a lot of luck, the two of them managed to escape, although they had to cope with a piece of luggage, a wooden suitcase, that the young gentleman did would not leave behind under any circumstances. It was late at night when they finally arrived at the family mansion. Here, on the estate of his influential father, the wayfarer hoped to be safe from further prosecution. Deadly tired as he was, the young man didn’t want to answer any questions and so they made their beds in an unlocked summer house in the garden, where both men quickly fell asleep. The young fellow dreamt that he visited a large bazaar, as he had often done during his travels. Strolling idly, he came to a booth set up by a merchant in whom he recognized his saviour and companion, the Kranzedan. But now the Kranzedan was clothed in flowing robes and an oversized turban, and he wore an obviously false beard and a lot of make-up, just as if he was impersonating an Oriental in a carnival or county fair. The merchant winked at him conspiratorially and then drew a wooden box (familiar to the dreamer) from under the counter. With an exaggerated look over his shoulder, as if playacting in a burlesque, he leaned over to the dreamer and whispered hoarsely: “A memento of your journey, Effendi? A unique souvenir . . .” Again he looked around, his kohl-rimmed eyes open wide, and then lifted the lid of box. Inside, as the dreamer well knew, there was a mummified monkey. But unlike the real mummy, the dreamt mummy was decorated with bizarre jewellery formed of foreign metals, encrusted with curious gemstones and confounding hieroglyphics. "How much do you want for this?" the dreamer heard himself say, whereupon the trader named an outrageous sum. Never would he pay so much money for a dead monkey, the sleeper replied indignantly. "Effendi, that's not a monkey, that is the mummy of the last of a line of kings that once ruled the planet Mars. In wondrous circumstances this amazing relic has come to Earth. Effendi, for such a treasure my price is low!" "You old scoundrel," the dreamer exclaimed, laughing. "Every child knows that there is no life on Mars." "No life anymore, Effendi, no life anymore ..." Now the dream took a turn, and the slumberer found himself lying in the summer house, believing himself awake, until he noticed the Kranzedan, still in his grotesque disguise, standing beside his makeshift bed. However, there was nothing comical about him when he said: "From time to time Nature brings forth beings who are able to reflect on it. Such species are inevitably destined to despair, and, as soon as they are technologically capable, they will destroy themselves and utterly devastate the world whose children they are. That is what happened on Mars. Look ..." And with these words, the Kranzedan held the open wooden box aloft. As the dreamer saw that it was empty, from somewhere a wail arose, and a leaden sense of dread settled on his chest. Eventually he found in himself the strength to scream, which finally truly woke him. But the wailing he had heard in his dream continued. Still drowsy, he stumbled out into the garden and close by he saw a twisted, naked body lying in the grass, surrounded by a group of servants wringing their hands. From the mansion his father came running, followed by several policemen and the youths the young gentleman recognised as his accusers from the neighbouring villages. All of a sudden it hit him like an epiphany and he cried out exultantly: “Ah, now I have it! It was the Kranzedan! He must have followed me all this time … Take him, he is hiding inside the summer house!” But there was no Kranzedan to be found in the summer house. There was nothing, except for some furniture and an empty wooden box. And when the unfortunate traveller was finally taken away, he kept shouting: "Let me be! Please believe me, it was not me! It was the Kranzedan! The Kranzedan! The Kranzedan and his monkey-mummy from Mars . . .”

Painting:Oil on Wood

Original:One-of-a-kind Artwork

Size:23.6 W x 23.6 H x 0.8 D in

Delivery Time:Typically 5-7 business days for domestic shipments, 10-14 business days for international shipments.