“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

There is also another member of this particular family who is presently a woman, and there is also another member who is presently a man. Neither of these two were intimately connected with Mark’s family for the past two lives, and represent the only exception.

The exception should interest you all. Do you have any idea, Joseph, who the two could be?

(“Who, me?”

Mark, however, was closely connected to you both, as was Rendalin, R-e-n-d-a-l-i-n, who is now your Ed Robbins, not of this city. Take your break, by all means.

(Seth’s mention of Ed Robbins, who now lives in New Paltz, NY, struck me as rather strange. Ed and I became acquainted first by mail when we were both doing free-lance commercial art work. At the time, many years ago, we did not meet. Later, while I was living in my hometown of Sayre, PA, I received a phone call from Ed inviting me to work with him on a project in Saratoga Springs, NY. This time it was a syndicated comic strip. Indeed, Ed introduced me to Jane the day after I moved to Saratoga, where I lived for about a year in the mid-fifties. Within a year Jane and I were married. Then for some time we did not see Ed; the last time was during an overnight stopover in New Paltz, when Jane and I were on our way to York Beach, Maine, on vacation. It will be recalled that it was in the dance hall at York Beach that Jane and I saw the projected fragments of our own personalities, that Seth dealt with so extensively in the 9th session, of December 18, 1963. [See Volume One.]

For example, having as a mother a woman who has once been your wife is rather bewildering, and certainly can lead to all sorts of psychological uneasiness. Nevertheless my sense of humor to the contrary, Mark is coming along extremely well. The earlier errors are being somewhat over-compensated for, but he will be the gainer in this respect.

(“Who, me?”)

You, in the act of deflowering the fair maiden, who incidentally had already been deflowered many times before. This story is truly one for the ages.

Mark, when he realized who you were, damn near strangled you. But there is a postscript. You went back into the house, weeping at your old man’s fate. Mark grabbed the girl for one revengeful embrace. Ruburt came across the same fields with his horse, led the horse into the barn, and found Mark and his mistress.

You told me this story the next morning when both young men showed up with black eyes, and Mark with a broken wrist. But Mark, out of the goodness of his heart, never told your son who he found first in the barn, and of such small but tasty incidents is the history of the race composed.