Archeology Of Enlightenment

July 17, 2164, Zion National Park, Utah

Dr. Jaden Reynolds 

A decade ago, during a research expedition in Thailand, I met my future husband while working on our thesis in the monastery of Wat Mahathat, also called the 'Temple of Relics.'  We shared a lighthearted moment that marked the beginning of our relationship. As I stooped to brush the dirt off the ancient stone tablet, a voice behind me said, "Careful. Those tablets are known to cast a love spell on archaeologists." 

I turned around to see a charming smile on the face of a fellow student. "In that case," I teased, "I should be extra careful around you." We both laughed, and that encounter began a lifelong journey together.

*****

Hewn out of the mountains and camouflaged to blend with the rocky cliffs of the reddish-brown mesas, the installation stands as a citadel erected to safeguard thousands of priceless volumes. Perched like an eagle of justice at the convergence of—the Colorado Plateau, the Great Basin, and the Mojave Desert, it forms a unique geomorphic location on the Markagunt and Kolob plateaus. Here, we protect, restore, and catalog forbidden books in a state-of-the-art literary laboratory, The Library Of Lost Knowledge. We are a stronghold of resistance, sequestered in stone, hidden from the government's propaganda. 

Every day, I watch as the sun descends below the cliffs, the sky transitions into a dusky purple, and the stars twinkle, dancing in the heavens. Zion is a spiritual place. For generations, my kin have been dedicated to serving as park rangers in this area, working in harmony with nature and safeguarding the precious artifacts found here. Our family cottage, carved from Navajo sandstone in 1934, is nestled near the Archaeology Trailhead. The architecture seems born from the whimsical imagination of Dr. Seuss in the children's storybooks we've recovered. 

As an archaeologist and literary historian, I'm acutely aware of the power of culture and stories, both real and imagined. This act of defiance to find and protect these books could cost me everything, even the person I hold dearest, my husband. Together, we stand as a beacon of light, illuminating humanity in our fight for the right to knowledge, truth, and free dissemination of information. Despite the constant threat of discovery, the key to restoring our culture lies within the pages of these long, forgotten books. 

In the early days of universal knowledge, we could possess any book, read, write, and learn without restrictions. Our internet connection granted us unlimited access to data, and we could even receive daily Bible passages on our smartphones. In 2076, the Bible was outlawed as the first book to be banned, despite being the most widely read and influential book ever written. Here, we hold the only pristine copy that once belonged to the last Pope, carefully preserved in the Vatican collection. This event marked the beginning of the end for the literary and religious worlds as we knew it, as it prohibited people from accessing their faith. All other religious texts were forbidden, choking off the only thing we had left: our beliefs and hopes. The freedom of speech, religion, and information, which had always kept society stable, was compromised.

******

Our troops swiftly unloaded the cargo, setting the chopper down and landing on the helipad. It was a treasure trove of fiction and self-help books unearthed by my husband, Dr. Benjamin Reynolds, and our team of rebels on the outskirts of New York. The Dusty Tome Archives were sanctuaries for works initially rejected by publishing houses or deemed unworthy by the government. The books were either burned or left to rot in these remote repositories, one in every state. It was a miraculous find—the fading handwritten notes, published works, and manuscripts of some of the world's most revered authors. The collection contained the original works of female literary giants such as J.K. Rowling, Jane Austen, and Agatha Christie, all of whom were dismissed by publishers and critics at some point. 

I gently removed the layers of dust and debris with my brush, holding my breath with expectation and curiosity. "Unbelievable," I whispered to Benjamin in the glow of the brightly lit, clean chamber. "The world thought these works were lost forever, but here they are, waiting to be rediscovered."

The first novel extracted from the container for restoration was 'Dune,' published in 1965; as I turned its yellowed pages with my gloved fingers, I felt an odd connection with a central character. Dr. Liet-Kynes, a planetary botanist and ecologist, becomes entangled in the natural processes he seeks to manipulate to aid the native population by altering the climate. The parallels between the planet Arrakis, our current political and natural environment, and this acclaimed sci-fi work were uncanny. I felt a profound kinship with this long-forgotten author, Frank Herbert, who writes that the character Dr. Liet-Kynes reflects while his planet was killing him that scientists had it all wrong, "The most persistent principles of the universe were likely accident and error." Despite facing 23 rejections, Herbert's commitment paid off, and it became the bestselling science-fiction novel ever, a testament to the power of the pen and imagination.

The next book pulled from the archives was "The Chronicles of Rejection." I was stunned to discover that so many famous authors had obstacles and rejection in bringing their works to life, and I began to understand more about the journey of publishing and being an author.

"Wow, did you know that Margaret Mitchell had 38 rejections before 'Gone With the Wind' was published?" I asked Benjamin, shocked to learn she had struggled for so long. 

"That's impressive she stuck with it, especially considering the period. Margaret's such an inspiring example of a strong female, just like you," Benjamin said, grinning.

"Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen's self-help book Chicken Soup for the Soul was rejected 144 times before publication. Incredibly, they didn't give up," I said, eagerly turning to the next page for more insights.

"We can sure relate to pushing forward in the wake of numerous setbacks. That's exactly what we've been doing for the past ten years. It was a risky trip, but we made it back," Benjamin said, sorting the inventory of books into categories.

I smiled at his enthusiasm, nodded, and said, "We have a monumental task ahead of us, my love. But I don't doubt these books will find their place in the world again. We will ensure that they do."

I continued reading aloud from the pages, finding a fascinating rejection letter dated back to 1925. Moberley Luger of the publishing house Peacock & Peacock addressed the 26-year-old author, Ernest Hemingway, expressing critical feedback on his work, "The Sun Also Rises." The letter dripped with Luger's disdain for the author's writing style, "If I may be frank—you certainly are in your prose—I found your efforts tedious and offensive. You really are a man's man, aren't you? I wouldn't be surprised to hear that you had penned this entire story locked up at the club, ink in one hand, brandy in the other. Your bombastic, dipsomaniac, where-to-now characters had me reaching for my own glass of brandy."

Benjamin said, "It proves that success in writing often comes after facing uphill battles and punctuated by lots of rejection." 

"It's all so fascinating," I said, realizing that "The Sun Also Rises" alludes to Ecclesiastes 1:5: Generations come, and generations go, but the earth remains forever. The sun rises and sets and hurries back to where it rises. The wind blows to the south and turns to the north; round and round it goes, ever returning on its course. We seek contentment in things that don't provide it. By nature, entertainment, lust, and wine provide only a momentary dulling of our senses, leaving us longing for something more meaningful." 

"It's beautiful like you, Jaden; you mean everything to me. You're the reason behind everything I do," Benjamin whispered as he gently caressed my face before tenderly kissing my lips.

I hugged him tight, feeling his strength, warmth, and passion. Looking into his eyes, I said, "Recovering these precious books has inspired me to pen our story, the Archaeology Of Enlightenment. I hope that long after we're gone, explorers will stumble upon the Library Of Lost Knowledge, discover our history, and understand why we created it here."

******

Two hundred years later…..

As the sun blazed down onto the rocky faces of the Markagunt and Kolob plateaus, a group of Librarian explorers made their way through the wild terrain of southwestern Utah. Their quest had led them to this remote landscape, where towering sandstone cliffs and alien rock formations surrounded them.

After days of trekking and climbing, the team finally found a hidden artificial grotto within Zion National Park. They discovered an archaic library, its shelves lined with weathered tomes etched with the patina of time. The air was thick with the musty redolence of age-old papers. The only sound was the faintest howl of the wind against the mountains. 

This secret library, silenced by the government, was a fossil frozen in time, its stillness echoing the knowledge left behind. The remnants of literary history are illuminated by tiny shafts of sunlight filtering through the natural fissures in the cavern walls. The first book they unearthed was "Archaeology Of Enlightenment" by Dr. Jaden Reynolds, who co-founded the Library Of Lost Knowledge. As they pored over the mysteries hidden within the rocky chambers, the explorers realized they had stumbled upon a Garden Of Eden, a repository from long-past civilizations that had lost and found enlightenment.

Authors note: This story is dedicated to my niece Aja, who just graduated with a Master's in Archeology.