Collected French Translations: Prose

by Ashbery, John

  One hesitates before a number of possible interpretations. The puns suggested by this “Cuba” where the novel is situated make one wonder whether Roussel hasn’t proceeded “alchemically” on several levels: that of the psychological unconscious (sublimation of shameful material by the work of the artist); that of language—Cuba for cul bas (posterior), Havane (the French word for a shade of tan like that of a cigar) for the color of excrement; and finally that of alchemy itself in Breton’s sense.

  The text presents a further singularity. At the end of the chapter, M…, looking for a costume befitting her role as president of a club founded to publicize the glory of Europe, has a sudden inspiration. “Among some Dresden porcelains displayed from time immemorial in a vitrine in her parlor was one that depicted the Abduction of Europa.6 A graceful garment, closely modeled after that of the statuette—and completed by a flesh-colored leotard—became her presidential uniform.” Curiously, a Dresden figurine representing the Abduction of Europa figured in the important art collection of Mme Roussel, the writer’s mother. A photograph of it is reproduced in the lavish catalogue printed for the sale of the collection, which was organized by Roussel and his sister in 1912, shortly after their mother’s death. This porcelain was then an object that Roussel himself had seen “from time immemorial” in his mother’s salon (it is perhaps worth pointing out that her name, Marguerite, begins with an M), and is not a figment of his imagination. Yet we know that Roussel made it a rule to exclude all reality from his work; Janet writes: “Martial [Roussel] has a very interesting conception of beauty in literature: The work of art must contain nothing real, no observation of the real or spiritual world, only totally imaginary arrangements.” For a reason we cannot know, Roussel here uses an existing object, a porcelain statuette sold at auction twenty years earlier. One could hardly deduce the presence of an autobiographical element in his work from the circumstance, but it is nonetheless interesting since it suggests that the relationship between the life and work of this most secretive of French writers may be less disjunct than was previously supposed. The details we possess concerning that life are, unfortunately, minimal, but it is always possible that new facts will be revealed which will shed further light on an oeuvre so carefully concealed behind enigmas of all kinds.

  Will the cipher be decoded? Will the secret—philosopher’s stone or “hoard”—which those familiar with the work (Leiris, Breton, Ferry) agree that it conceals, ever be discovered? It’s unlikely, despite the new clues that “In Havana” seems to contain. Doubtless the attraction of a work like this is directly linked to the obscurity of its author’s intentions; its charm is partly that of some antique mechanism constructed for a use that escapes us today. Perhaps the message Roussel wanted to leave with us comes down to this: the impossibility of knowing all; the possibility of a superior knowledge to which we will not attain.

  In Havana

  In Havana in the year lived a pair of orphans, the fourteen-year-old A … L … and his twin sister M …

  Born to a Spanish colonial family, the two children grew up under the affectionate guardianship of their spinster great-aunt S…, a capable, unpretentious person, well-versed in managing her own affairs.

  As is usual, the two twins had grown unevenly in the maternal womb: M … had absorbed many a vital essence, to the detriment of A…, who, incurably fragile, had only by a miracle reached adolescence.

  Between A … and M … reigned the fanatic tenderness typical of twins. Moreover A…, who was extremely gifted, was able to exert a beneficial ascendancy on his entourage, to which his sister wholeheartedly submitted. In school he dominated the class, and, drawing additional prestige from the title of veteran, the result of a serious illness which had forced him to stay in a form a second year, counseled some, sustained others, or settled the quarrels of others with but a word or two.

  Two examples will show the scope of his authority.

  Among his friends he counted the son of N … O…, a parvenu well known throughout the land—and that of R … V…, whose name called to mind a mysterious scandal.

  A humble servant to a planter, N … O … had, with the aid of a lottery ticket, been able while still very young to lay the foundations of a fortune which, thanks to his talents and miserliness, had become considerable.

  But his origins had gained him nothing but the contempt of Cuban high society, from which he suffered and which he attempted to conquer through the purchase of a title.

  He left for Rome—and returned a papal count.

  But the fashionable Cubans, not in the least impressed, saw this as a provocation and took umbrage. Not only were the advances of the new nobleman rebuffed, but it was agreed that he would be sent a syntax whose luxurious binding was decorated with the ornate crest of a count. It was a way of neatly twitting the pretensions of the unlettered former flunkey.

  Count d’O … understood—and kept his peace.

  Besides, other cares would soon preoccupy him.

  Havana at the time was fêting an Italian operatic company whose star was the beautiful and amoral A…, known as the “queen of the vocalise.”

  As the vocal repertory offered nothing sufficiently difficult to show off fully her astounding virtuosity, A … had had arranged for voice, using lyrics suggested by the title, the “Spinning Song” for piano by D…, whose perilous chromatic runs, aiming at subtle imitative effects and forbidden to lesser talents, followed one another relentlessly. And the execution of the work, already a tour de force for the fingers, became for the vocal cords a miraculous exploit.

  A … accomplished this feat effortlessly, attaining, while always singing pianissimo, an extreme velocity in which the phrasing of the separate notes that stretched out each syllable was never compromised.

  At the end of each last act, urgent curtain calls forced A … to sing her “Spinning Song,” resulting each time in a triumph.

  The first time d’O … saw A … appear on stage, her dazzling beauty produced a delightful agitation in him which immediately doubled at the sound of her voice. His desire, increasing with each act of the opera, burst all bounds at the end when the customary “Spinning Song,” adding the crowning touch to her prestige, caused her to surpass herself as a lyric artist and then radiate in a final apotheosis.

  When after an easy conquest the totally ecstatic d’O … heard talk of the troupe’s departure, his anguish revealed the depth of his passion. He made A … alluring offers in an attempt to persuade her to abandon her career and stay with him, whereupon she ascertained her strength and, deciding to exploit the situation to the hilt, refused him all save marriage and held out until he yielded.

  The irruption into his existence of a wife with a checkered past only aggravated the ostracism from which d’O … suffered—and against which he decided to struggle yet another time.

  It was on horse racing, a popular sport in Cuba, that he built his hopes. A racing stable would bring with it a certificate of smartness—and acquaintances in the brilliant society of the racing world.

  He acquired a stable and, in A…’s honor, chose as his colors the green, white, and red of the Italian flag, alert for every chance to support her with visible tributes against the disfavor of prudes.

  But, if the couple had a few sporting successes in the hippodrome, these met with nothing but further snubs, and d’O…, chagrined, soon parted with all his horses.

  This disappointment was followed by a joy: the birth of a son.

  Now it was this son, S … d’O…, thirteen years old at the time of the story, who was a friend of A … L…’s.

  A classmate having called S…, during a whispered argument at school, “son of a lackey and a strumpet,” the youth had retorted with a challenge.

  At the first sign of fisticuffs during recess, A … had intervened—then made inquiries.

  Given the odious nature of the insult, he insisted that S … receive public apologies—and as usual, was deferentially obeyed.

  As for
V…’s son, he had unjustly suffered the consequences of certain suspicions that hung over his father.

  Orphaned at an early age, the latter had, on reaching his majority, rapidly dissipated a modest inheritance and, of comely aspect, had then sought … and found an heiress.

  A few years of high living melted the dowry away, and the irritated parents-in-law subsidized only meagerly the couple—henceforth beset by difficulties which the birth of a son only augmented. Now, scarcely had V…’s wife risen from childbed when her father and mother died mysteriously within the same hour.

  The autopsy furnished proof of a double poisoning.

  An investigation of foodstuffs having led to naught, it became necessary to look elsewhere. Suspicion finally settled on the glue of a supply of stamps of touching origin.

  Two years previously the American T … had attempted, on his vessel the B…, an audacious polar exploration.

  When the anticipated time of his return had been largely exceeded, a public subscription to finance a search party was initiated.

  Notably a stamp was created which, showing the B … lost amid floes, accompanied the franking stamp on many an envelope.

  More than one hand was forced by the ploy of sending out an unsolicited sheet of a hundred stamps—for which a canvasser soon appeared, to request either the return of the sheet or a contribution.

  Now a sheet of this type had reached the home of V…’s parents-in-law and been utilized at once, the canvasser having been welcomed on his arrival.

  It was two weeks afterward that they died.

  Six stamps remained—and analysis proved the presence of poisoned glue.

  Since no envelope could be found, the investigation came up short—and foundered. But suspicions concerning the too-fortunate V … were bruited about—without touching his wife, who enjoyed universal esteem.

  Since then, however, gossip had never ceased.

  Now, stirred by resemblances in their vulnerability, young V … had applauded when public apologies were made to S … d’O.…

  Embittered, the insulter sought a vengeance which, anonymous this time, would be sure not to earn him a new punishment.

  At an opportune moment he crept into the deserted dormitory and, budding draughtsman that he was, made in charcoal on the wall behind young V…’s bed a sketch wherein, under the title “Papa’s Double Blow,” two hearses were seen, one behind the other, near a framed corner vignette filled by a large stamp illustrating a polar catastrophe.

  He began to hate his own handiwork when he saw its discovery provoke a general malaise—and the tears of the concerned party.

  Informed of the event, A … gathered all together—and doubly stigmatized a cowardly anonymous insult which struck at the son in the person of the father.

  Then he painted such a radiant picture of redemption through confession that the miscreant,1 weeping in turn, came and bowed before the victim, avowing his guilt and beseeching forgiveness.

  One can imagine the effect on a sister—and a twin sister at that—of a force already so dominant over mere comrades.

  Each of A…’s words was an article of faith for M…, and she would gladly have braved any peril for the triumph of a cause championed by him.

  And indeed, together with his inclination toward acts of goodness, the precocious adolescent did occasionally cherish great humanitarian dreams—which he boldly planned to realize someday.

  Deeply attached as he was to his natal island, he would in particular have liked to see come into being there a more refined civilization, born out of intensive imitation of Europe.

  Ardently he admired Europe—to which his Spanish blood in fact allied him: the homeland of great memories, of solid traditions, of masterpieces of art, of sublime intelligences—while on the contrary setting little store by the vulgar industrialism of upstart America.

  And often, when confiding his thoughts to M…, he would frame passionate plans for distant future projects which this special patriotism suggested.

  Alas, he was not to see that future; death which from his cradle had never ceased to hover over him took him at twenty, wasted by a malady of the lungs—under the haggard eye of M…, henceforth inconsolable.

  Nonetheless, the sentiment of a sacred mission to be fulfilled sustained her in her sorrow.

  A…, on his deathbed, had solemnly appointed her to realize in his stead his patriotic dream—and, with outstretched arm, she had sworn obedience.

  A year later her great-aunt died full of years, leaving M … a fortune which would allow her to take up the cudgels at once.

  Sensing first of all how little she would be able to accomplish alone, she had printed and circulated gratis a brochure containing an explicit call for aid. Here A…’s desideratum was fully laid out—along with the project of founding, together with those who shared her ideas, a club for both sexes whose members would meet at M…’s home.

  Approvingly understanding, numerous intellectuals pledged their membership with patriotic zeal.2

  Every club must be governed; a vote was taken, and, on the first ballot, M … was unanimously elected president.

  Thereupon she was urged to invent for herself some insignia, the wearing of which during meetings would attest to her authority.

  Prodded thus, she began to reflect seriously and, after a period of dissatisfaction, by force of elimination finally adopted a bold idea—at first rejected as overshooting the mark.

  In fact it was a matter not of a simple ornamental accessory, but of an entire costume.

  Among a group of Dresden porcelains displayed from time immemorial in a vitrine in her parlor was one depicting the Abduction of Europa. A graceful garment closely modeled after that of the statuette—and completed by a flesh-colored leotard—became her presidential uniform.

  The meeting at which she first wore it took on a character of inaugural solemnity. A new activity reigned in the search for policies to be adopted. And finally each member was given the assignment of providing appropriate testimony to Europe’s superiority.

  With emulation helping, it became for the intellectual elite who made up the club a race to see who would furnish the handsomest stone for the edifice.

  And several weeks passed, during which M … received a sheaf of arguments for her cause: the thirty documents which follow.

  First Document

  Around 1435 the Lord de Courty, dreaded for his tyranny and hardness of heart, was living on his lands in Burgundy.

  Did a pretty peasant lass dare to spurn him?… Her plot of land confiscated, she and her dear ones were reduced to beggary.

  Thus it came about that a beautiful blond orphan girl, Eda Bercin, was forced, the very day of her act of disobedience, to leave the thatched cottage in a field which she shared with her frail grandmother.

  It was winter. The two unfortunates, snubbed by their frightened betters, trudged through falling snow to the forest of Vigelal, where Porvioux cave afforded them a shelter.

  There, collapsed on the frozen ground, the fragile grandmother shuddered and breathed her last.

  Henceforth Eda, too proud to beg, having fashioned herself a bow and arrows, lived as a cave dweller from the spoils of the hunt.

  The arrival of spring found her wandering one day along a flowery path, where she was tempted by some fresh-blown bluebells that seemed to need naught but a breeze so as to herald the springtide with a joyful ding-a-ling.

  She made a nosegay of them—then, attracted by the new green grass, lay down on the ground—where sleep overtook her at the very moment a young vagabond, Romé Daigle, appeared at a bend in the road.

  Abruptly Romé stopped short, dazzled by her beauty. And a strange fear seized him at the thought of seeing her eyelids part: What if her eyes, which he imagined celestial, were to disappoint him!

  He picked up three bluebells that had escaped from Eda’s hand … then, with a hair gathered from her shoulder, wound their stems in a golden spiral.

  Then he fled.
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  Henceforth Romé, an incorrigible night owl, led a confused existence, in austere and frugal solitude.

  What was to become of him?… Never again could he desire another girl than Eda, whom the fear of a special disillusion prevented him from seeking out.

  The order of the Gray Crosses had recently been founded, inspired by this deed mentioned by Saint-Priacet:

  Shortly after the Crucifixion, as she was passing the stall of the fence Zacri, the Magdalen recognized a trove of tinseled finery, scarves and sashes embroidered in gold or silver, which had once been stolen from her.

  Now, immediately upon her conversion she had adopted a modest garb—and burned her handsome adornments.

  For a trifling sum she took possession of the accursed rags so as to burn them too—thanks, obviously, to Jesus, who desired that she be enabled to annihilate the final traces of her past.

  The presence of the finger of God became undeniable when the heap of ashes that Mary Magdalen had publicly created before her door was given the shape of a cross by a strangely capricious breeze; the populace knelt around it in a circle, having understood that if the Redeemer, who had transformed a sinner into a saint, had just changed ashes of impure origin into a sacred symbol, it was to further affirm the accessibility of the kingdom of heaven.