The Brooke-Rose Omnibus (50 page)

— Non mon père. Je crois que capote anglaise veut dire ce que les anglais appellent French letter.

— Una cosa di gomma?

— Si.

— E l’altra cosa, più tardi?

— Je ne sais pas monsignor.

— Dessinez, s’il vous plaît. Ah si, si, la conosco. Va bene. Scusi, grazie tanto. E allora signora beneath the painting of St. Andrew Bobola.

E allora the languages fraternise behind their own façades finding each other exquisite in Beirut Copenhagen Bonn Regency London and Wiltshire with swift frequent
fornication
that leaves a lot to the imagination becomes swifter less frequent with Great Scott do you always feel tired which later turns into yes you do look pale why don’t you go to bed until it comes to a standstill. Man sagt das nicht however man does not speak of love nor of une absence qui signifie nothing more than a natural process une absence par retranchement from the feminine marked to the masculine unmarked except by a mental shrug signifying nothing that retrospectively deserves a flow of rash enthusiasm true friendship and affection remaining. Madame désire encore quelque chose? Bon alors ça fera neuf cent francs quarante au revoir madame merci.

And yet man once looked straight across and eyes met eyes limbs limbs in the freedom of the night and the precision of the mouthpiece at twenty-two or twenty-five even, with hands light brush-stroke size over rectangles forest blobs metallic lakes white curving roads which at first make up an abstract study in desire watched with curiosity as man works with hands eyes mouth hallowed structure into the rigid steel glass vessel of conception recommended for relaxation and calm crashing down on hard beds in Hanover Rothenburg Wien Hamburg Stuttgart and hats geschmeckt? The tannoy voice fills the large wooden hut calling out ranks with names attached and even faces over uniforms grey-blue dark olive khaki that wear a listening look for the Dakota about to take off from Frankfurt to Berlin. He stands in grey-blue with three stripes or two and a half around his sleeve and eyes meet eyes saying how splendid of Siegfried to have brought you to me, how come so young to work for us for them for him or else perhaps how come he sits so close on the long metal bench fixed to the curved metallic wall inside the fuselage the round ribs all exposed as if inside the skeleton of a giant cocoon, like paratroopers about to jump float down descending with white wings towards the rectangles of agriculture brush-stroke size the forest blobs the straight white lines that make up an abstract study of earth in green and brown. Yes well, every solution creates new problems and I can’t pretend that as an Englishman I feel proud of what the so-called Allies have done. Why, and he talks, discusses things ideas the state of Europe and the zones of occupation spheres of influence not one of which in the
nonexistent
future deserves a flow of rash enthusiasm as to administration re-education tact resentment humiliation revenge understanding distribution black-market
fraternisation
sex. Or do you know the definition of a titbit. Titbit? What does that mean? A mosquito-raid on Brest. No? I thought it rather good. Ah, Dieu vous blesse ma chère. You should get rid of a cold at this height not catch one. Things have changed however since the early days and I will take you under my wing. Great Scott! But English tall dark and handsome poised bantering affectionate what more can one desire in the imprecision of feelings at nineteen or
thirty-seven
even as the plane leaps up and down the holes of
air-wind-
storm that lurch into the mouthpiece, the passengers in grey-blue dark olive-green or khaki holding on to the metal bench or each other not to get thrown across the fuselage on to the opposite metal bench and its passengers in khaki grey-blue dark olive-green the round ribs all exposed. My dear have you not flown before there there his arm right round a little storm only a little storm soon landing at Tempelhof have you the time? How strange I never carry a watch either don’t believe in them one finds clocks
everywhere
even if they all disagree according to locality you see we have much in common. Or as the man said to the
prostitute
who asked have you the time yes my dear but not the inclination as the plane lurches down the steps of air above the squares of grey façades so much less squat than the rubble behind them. Und haben Sie noch einen Wunsch? Ah, un piccolo chalet! Oh you mean a biddy! Did you want it for eating, love? Un piccolo chalet, va bene così?

Un piccolo chalet in la dolce Inghilterra dai prati
smeraldini
scattered with castles lampoons and rhododendrons, pettinated gardens, fiery lanes and sweet evening
conversations
appropriate to the narratives of Dickens und so weiter weiter gehen where explodes the divorce between man and God, liberty and redemption and the effects do not mature in the twilight of the soul through which the bells peal concatenations from the belfry in the distant brain way off beyond the greyish drizzle and behind the little door. You must imagine the time the place the kind of life led by the petitioner between the enormous wings ensconced next to Erich von Irgendetwas or Signor Ingegnere Battista di Qualcosa tall among the hundred and sixty seats but for a few head-tops bald fluffy blond curly black grey between the port and starboard engines all the stimaţi pasageri looked after cradled in their needs who talk eat smoke doze dream. Or else inside the whale three hours three days of what do you mean my sweet? Or yes you do look pale why don’t you go to bed?

Unless he says but now we have moved out of the hard bed area into the softness of the east come live with me and join my harem here in Istanbul in heavy heat dein Brust like a mosque domed on the night sky my hallowed structure like a minaret piercing the Milky Way and hats geschmeckt? He turns the Turkish lire over and over as if roubles pennia forints in the hollow of his left hand with the thumb and forefinger of his right as the waiter waits in the hotel bar with the bill for his whisky and Mineralwasser. Mineralwasser? Ah, Maden Suyu! Maden Suyu. Kein Eis bitte. Teşekkür ederim. Bitteschön Madame. Well of course I too prefer the Suleymaniye mosque, splendid proportions of stone and space in white and orange, and all that gorgeous calligraphy, so much easier to contemplate than images because devoid of sense, to us at least, and indeed to most Turks you know, they have to have the Koran all expounded, can’t read a word of Arabic. But then all truths get institutionalised sooner or later and die.

The grey-lined bus stops in a wide bosphorus of huge American cars with Turkish number-plates but
or
or
on their bottoms all hooting poop pip pop hoo between the red and white bus on the left and the dusty demolition of a crumbling façade on the right that clouds a beautiful of course Japanese girl in a kimono against lake and pagoda under red lettering ZETINA. Dikiş makina radiolan. Beyond the clouded beauty of the Japanese girl an almost triangular red wolf-head sticks out his neck sticks out his tongue unless perhaps breathes fire above PETROL OFİSİ—Yüksek kaliteli motor yağlan and then GÜLE-GÜLE as the grey-lined bus stretches its armchairs endlessly towards the pip-poop-popping driver and moves on in the wide bosphorus of traffic turning right on to the bridge over the Golden Horn and up a sharp steep hill of shops to the hotel where the reception waits with sparkling Talaj for the infidels and Maden Suyu and fruit-juice for the more faithful hosts.

— Actually they all drink raki on the quiet, the Prophet didn’t happen to mention it you know. Very strong, not bad at all you should try it my sweet.

The speeches have begun hands across the frontiers on floating stomachs over the murmur of unlistening delegates who move about in close national groups and token-clap until the dancers come in, fierce little men in blue silk and red and silver, one beating a big drum one playing a clarinet a third clicking long sticks extended from his fingers. In the adjoining room the pretty girl in green silk puffed trousers with green and orange bands coming down from the
shoulders
cries under her orange hat and headscarf among other girls in crimson trousers or green. Mademoiselle! Pourquoi pleurez-vous? Les hommes. Pas danser. Nous invitées. Mais les hommes pas permission kadın, kadın, er, femmes danser en public.

— Attendez.

The male dancers bow to the tumultuous applause and exeunt as the clarinet player gets a tap on the shoulder. Kadın? He shrugs, nods vigorously with Yok for no and exit. Yok we have none. Yok kadın.

— Kadın! Kadın! Kadın!

— What’s got into you?

— It means women. The men won’t let the girls dance. Look they weep. Please shout with me, all of you. Monsieur! On ne veut pas laisser danser les jeunes filles. Ah ça! Mais quelles beautés! Criez avec moi kadın, ça veut dire femmes. Herr Doktor, Entschuldigung. Dankeschön. Ka-dın, ka-dın, ka-dın, ka-dın!

The men dance their way out. The speeches start again hands across the frontiers on floating stomachs over the talking delegates and a rebellious group shouting ka-dın, ka-dın, ka-dın until the dancers come in, pale pretty girls in green and crimson puffy trousers covered with striped bands, none smiling under their orange headscarves over their high hats as they go through their solemn motions unhappily not quite in unison one tearful still and pale.

— Well yes I do look pale. Until I put on my face like. But I must say I didn’t fancy them popish crows coming to interview me about you and your ex, dear, what could I say? I don’t poke my nose into other people’s affairs. Well, yes I know I agreed, and of course you confided in me in your loneliness poor love but still, and so slow! You should’ve seen them, writing it all down in longhand, just like the Scribes and Pharisees, or do I mean Sadducees? Well in the end I said to hell with that if you’ll excuse me I’ve had a secretarial training. Yes, I worked in an office before I got spliced didn’t you know, solicitors in the Strand. And I’ll just type out your questions I said and my answers as one of your witnesses—witnesses I ask you what would I witness? You’d think they’d taken me for a peeping Tom you should’ve heard some of the things they asked I couldn’t make head or tail of it. Not like our lawyers at all well of course you can hardly call them lawyers can you, just popish priests, black crows my mother used to call them though she also called the Church of Rome the scarlet woman and the golden calf. Or do I mean fatted calf? And I said if you have no objection sir, I said, oh yes I treated them polite for your sake love and they had none in fact they couldn’t have seemed more delighted and surprised like they’d never seen a typewriter before. Such antiquated ways! I can’t think what you see in that lot love. I mean why do you bother you don’t want to get married again or do you?

— Nnn-o.

— Well then. And even if you did it don’t mean anything any more all that sanctification lark you just go ahead and do it you got a proper divorce in the law of the land you don’t need them foreigners. Oh I beg your pardon love but I never think of you as foreign. Oh I know you speak with an accent, French, didn’t you say? Well that explains it, but then who doesn’t we all have accents come to think of it, your hubby I mean your ex worst of all a la-di-da accent anyone’d think he thought himself a cut above and he didn’t fit in down here not like you do dear. So you just go ahead and live in sin he settled the cottage on you didn’t he, oh no you told me, you bought it yourself for five hundred pounds. And you had a biddy put in by my Tom he liked that nobody has a biddy down here. Well then, all the more so. After all you earn your own wages and come here on your holidays, funny that coming to England for holidays when everyone goes abroad but then you do everything the other way round don’t you dear and I like you for that, I like original people. So you just bring your boy-friends here like you used to in the old days after the bust-up when you worked in London and came down weekends it quite livened up the village and what difference does it make?