G. Cabrera Infante
THREE TRAPPED
TIGERS
Translated from the Spanish by
Donald Gardner and Suzanne Jill Levine
with the author
ff
faber and faber
LONDON BOSTON
First published in Spain in 1965
as Tres Tristes Tigres
First published in English in the USA in 1971
by Harper & Row Publishers Inc., New York
First published in Great Britain in 1980
by Pan Books Limited, London
Reissued in 1989
by Faber and Faber Limited
3 Queen Square London WC1N 3AU
All rights reserved
© Guillermo Cabrera Infante, 1967, 1982
This English translation copyright
© by Harper & Row Publishers Inc., 1971
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP record for this book
is available from the British Library
ISBN 0-571-15370-4
For Miriam,
to whom this book owes a lot
more than it seems
“. . . And she tried to fancy what
the flame of a candle looks like
after the candle is blown out.”
LEWIS CARROLL
CONTENTS
Prologue
Beginners
Seseribo
Mirrormaze
Vae Visitors
Brainteaser
The Death Of Trotsky As Described By Various Cuban Writers, Several Years After The Event—Or Before
Some Revelations
Bachata
Epilogue
PROLOGUE
Showtime! Señoras y señores. Ladies and gentlemen. And a very good evening to you all, ladies and gentlemen. Muy buenas noches, damas y caballeros. Tropicana! the MOST fabulous nightclub in the WORLD—el cabaret MAS fabuloso del mundo—presents—presenta—its latest show—su nuevo espectáculo—where performers of Continental fame will take you all to the wonderful world of supernatural beauty of the Tropics—al mundo maravilloso y extraordinario y hermoso: The Tropic in the Tropicana! El Trópico en Tropicana! In the marvelous production of our Rodney the Great—el gran Roderico Neyra—entitled Me voy pal Brasil—that means “Going to Brazil.” . . . Brazuil terra dye nostra felichidade. That was Brezill for you, ladies and gentlemen, in Brassilian! El Brasil brasileiro, damas y caballeros que me escucháis esta noche. That is my very, very particular version of it! Es decir, mi versión del Brazil de Carmen Miranda y de Joe Carioca—Brasil, the land of Carmen Miranda and Joe Carioca. But—Pero—Brazil, dear public assembled here in this coliseum of pleasure and gaiety and happiness! Brasil una vez más y siempre—Brazil once and for always, eternal Brazil, honorable and dear visitors to our Romance Forum of song and dance and love by candlelight!! Ouh, ouh, ouh! ooh! la! la! My apologies! . . . Público amable, amable público, pueblo de Cuba, la tierra MAS hermosa que ojos humanos vieran, como dijo el Descubridor Colón (eso es, el colón de las carabelas—ho ho ho!) . . . Pueblo, público, queridos concurrentes, perdonen un momento mientras me dirijo a la selecta concurrencia que colma todas y cada unas de las localidades de este emporio del amor y la vida risueña. Quiero hablaries, si la amabilidad proverbial del Respetable cubano me lo permite, a los caballerosos y radiantes turistas que visitan nuestra tierra—to our ENORMOUS American audience of glamorous and distinguished tourists who are visiting the land of the gay senyoritas and brave caballerros. . . . For your exclusive pleasure, ladies and gentlemen, our Good Neighbors, you that are now in Cuba, the most beautiful land human eyes have ever seen, as Christofry Callumbus, the Discoverer, said once, you, hap-py visitors, are, once and for all, welcome. Welcome to Cuba! All of you . . . be WELLcome! Bienvenidos! as we say in our romantic language, the language of colonizadors and toreros (bullfighters) and very, very, but verry (I know what I say) beautiful duennas. I know that you are here to sunbathe and seabathe and sweatbathe—ha ha ha! . . . My excuses, thousand of apologies for You-There that are freezing in this cold of the rich that sometimes is the chill of our coolness and the sneeze of our colds: the Air-Conditioned, I mean. For you as for everyone here, it’s time to get warm and our coming show will do that for you. In fact, to many of you it will mean heat! And I mean, with my apologies to the very, verry old-fashioned ladies in the audience, I mean Heat. And when, laydies and gentlemen, I mean heat—is HEAT! Estimable, muy estimado, estimadisimo público, ahora para ustedes una traducción literaria. Decía yo a mis amigos americanos, a los buenos vecinos del Norte que nos visitan, les decía, damas y caballeros, caballeros y damas, señoras y señoritas y . . . señoritos, que de todo tenemos esta noche . . . Le decía a la amable concurrencia norteña que pronto, muy pronto, en unos segundos, esa cortina de plata y lamé dorado que distingue el escenario prestigioso de Tropicana—el cabaret más lujoso del mundo!—les decía que el frío invernal bajo techo de esta noche de verano tropical, hielo del tropico bajo los arcos de cristal de Tropicana, se derretirá muy pronto con el calor y la pimienta de nuestro primer gran show de la noche. Calor y sabor! Back to you, amigos! I was telling them that the cold winter under the roof of this night of tropical summer, ice of the tropics under the crystal arcades of the Tropicana . . . (Are you with me? DEE-VAHN!)—this cold of the rich of our air-conditioned will very soon melt in the heat and the spicy piquant of our first great show of the evening, salt & pepper, when this curtain of silver and gold lamé rises. But first, with the excuses of my kind audience, I would like to welcome some old friends to this palace of happiness. . . . Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we are honored by one famous and lovely and talented guest . . . la bella, gloriosa, famosa estrella del cine, madmuasel Martín Carol! Luces, luces! Miss Carol, tendría la amabilidad . . . ? Gracias, muchas gracias, señorita Carol! As they say in your language, Merdsi Bocú! (As-you-have-seen-my-dear-audience-it-is-the-visit-of-the-great-star-of-the-screen-the-beautiful-glamorous-Martín-Carol!) Less beautiful but as rich and as famous is our very good friend and frequent guest of Tropicana, the wealthy and healthy (he is an early riser) Mr. William Campbell, the notorious soup-fortune heir and world champion of indoor golf and indoor tennis (and other not so mentionable indoor sports—ha ha ha!). William Campbell, our favorite playboy! Lights (Thank you, Mr. Campbell), lights, lights! Thanks so much, Mr. Campbell! Thank you very much! (Amabley-paciente-publicó-cubanoes Mister Campbell elfamoso-millonario heredero-deunafortuna-ensopas.) Is also with us tonight the Great Emperor of the Shyners, His Excellency Mr. Lincoln Lee Uggu. Mr. Lincoln Lee? Mr. Lee Uggu? (Es el señor Lincoln Lee Uggu, emperador de los Shyners, paciente público.) Thank YOU, Mr. Uggu. Ladies and gentlemen, with your kind permission . . . Cubans, countrymen, it is now time for us to give a warm hand to our clientele in the courtyard, who have welcomed with the proverbial generosity and typical courtesy of the Criollos, so typically ours, typically Cuban as these palm trees which you see at the end of the salon and these guayaberas (with a black tie, eh?) which is the typical dress of the elegant habanero, with that typical hospitality as always—our typitality, ho ho ho!—you have allowed us to present to you first our international clientele. Now, as is only fitting, it is the turn of the more familiar spectators of our social, political and cultural life. I will pass on to the triumphant and serious youth and the invincible and juvenile Cold Age! I pass on to the most delightful and enchanting audience
in the Universe-WORLD! Lights, please? Thank you! That’s better. I want to extend a hand to the enchanting jeune-fille, as our society columnists say, Miss Vivian Smith-Corona Alvarez de Real, who is celebrating tonight her fifteenth birthday and has chosen to spend it with the always glorious showcase of the nightclub under the stars, tonight under its canopy of glass because of the rain and bad weather. May all her desires be fulfilled, fifteen golden springtimes, ah! which for ourselves have long ago passed. Though we can console ourselves saying we are only fifteen years old—but twice over. Our heard-most congratulations, Vivian. Happy, happy birthday! Let’s all sing the happy birthday to Vivian. Todos juntos! All together! Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Vivian, happy birthday to you! Now let’s show a little spirit there and all of you sing it, altogether, I don’t want to see one of you staying silent, together with Vivian’s mother and father, Mr. and Mrs. Smith-Corona Alvarez de Real, whom you can see surrounding their precious and adorable offspring! Come on, put your hearts into it! Todos juntos ahora! All together now! Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Vivian, happpyyy-birthdaaayyy tooo-yyyoouuuuuu! That’s the way it’s done! Así se hace! Very good! Now to more serious things. También tenemos el honor de teller entre nuestra selectísima concurrencia al coronet Cipriano Suarez Dámera, M.M., M.N., R. y P. . . . pundonoroso militar y correcto caballero, acompañado, como siempre, por su bella y gentil esposa, Arabella Longoria de Suárez Dámera—It’s none other than Colonel Dámera, an exemplary soldier and perfect gentleman, and his beautiful, gracious and elegant wife, Arabella Dámera. Una buena noche feliz para usted, Coronet, en compañia de su esposa—A very pleasant and happy evening to the colonel and his missus. Veo por allí, en esa mesa, si ahí mismo, junto a la pista—by the side of the Silvery Moon!—al senador y publicista doctor Viriato Solaún, concurrencia frecuente al interior de este domo del placer—Dr. Viriato Solaún, a frequent visitor to the innards of this pleasure dome, the Tropicana! I see the senator and publisher is keeping good company as always. Paso a la cultura! And now from the world of culture we have someone who truly adorns our evenings at the Tropicana, the beautiful elegant and sophisticated poetess Minerva Eros, a reciter of the utmost dramatic perfection and with a refined and exquisite voice: the verses she speaks rhyme with velvet and are sweet and caressing. La elegante y sotiftscada poetisa. MINERVA EROS! Lights! Lights! LIGHTS! (Coño!) Just a minute, amigo, please, it’s the ladies’ turn now. But—hold it!—if it isn’t our great Great Photographer of the Stars! Si, el Gran Fotógrafo de las Estrellas! Not a great astronomer but our friend, the Official Photographer of Cuban Beauties. El Gran Códac! Let’s greet him as he deserves. Un aplauso! A round of applause for the Great Códac. And now finally we have Minerva, Minerva Eros for you, dear audience. Aplausos, aplausos! A round of applause. That’s right. I want to announce to you that starting next month, Minerva will adorn the last show—every night!—at Tropicana! with her classical manner and her sculptor’s figure plus her voice, which is the voice of culture itself. Until then, I give you Minerva! Tomen Minerva! And all the best! No, thank you, Minerva, who but you is the muse of our tables? La musa de las mesas! And now—señoras y señores—ladies and gentlemen—públicoquesabeloquesbueno—discriminatory public, without translation—sin traducción . . . Without words but with your admiration and your applause . . . Without words but with music and happiness and joy . . . To you all! Our first great show of the evening—El primer Gran Show de la noche in Tropicana! Curtains up! Arriba el telón!
BEGINNERS
But what we never told anyone was that we too used to play with each other’s things under the truck. We did tell everything else and all the people of the town heard about it and came and asked us questions and wanted to know all about it. Mommy was proud too and whenever people came to our house on a visit, she’d invite them in for coffee, and when coffee was served they drank it in one gulp and then put the cup, very gently, as carefully as possible on the table as if the cup was made of eggshells and then they all looked at me smiling but pretending not to know anything at all. Afterward they always asked me the same question all sweet and innocent: “Come over here, little girl. Tell me what you were up to under the truck.” I said nothing and then Mommy would stand in front of me and put her hand under my chin and say, “Tell them what you saw, child. Just like you told me, don’t be shy.” I wasn’t shy or anything, but I wouldn’t say a thing unless Aurelita was there and so they always went to look for Aurelita and she came with her mommy and both of us told it all together and as well as we could. We knew we were the center of attraction in the neighborhood, the whole town, the neighborhood first and the whole town later on. So that when we went out for our Sunday walk in the park, all nice and proper, looking neither left nor right, not stopping for anyone, we knew everyone was staring at us and that when we went by they’d whisper and give us funny looks and so forth.
All that week Mommy put on my new dress and I went out to look for Aurelita (who was also putting on a new dress) and we strolled up and down main street till sundown. And the whole town ran to their doors to see us go by and sometimes someone called us from a house and we told the whole story again.
By the end of the week everybody had heard it and they no longer called us or asked us anything. That’s when Aurelita and I began making things up. Each time we added more details to the story and we came very close to saying what we’d really done but Aurelita and me, we always stopped just short and so we never let on that she and I were playing with each other’s things while we watched what was going on. When Ciana Cabrera and her daughter finally moved to Pueblo Nuevo, they gave up asking and then Aurelita and I caught on and before you could say Jack Rabbit we were in Pueblo Nuevo telling everybody. Every time we invented something I was quite willing to cross my heart and swear to die it was true, because I could no longer tell truth from lies. In Pueblo Nuevo it was different, it was mostly the men who asked us and they always stood in the store on the outskirts with their elbows on the counter and cigars in their mouths, winking as if they knew the story by heart, but they always seemed keen to hear and asked us to tell them all about it, as if it was news to them, saying in a very low voice, “Come over here, girls,” and they made us come just a little closer though we were close enough and then they said, “Now tell us just what you were up to under that truck.” The funniest thing was that every time I heard the question I thought they were really asking something else, like what were we really up to under the truck, and more than once it almost slipped out. But we always told the story, me and Aurelita, and we never, never let on that we were also playing with each other’s things under the truck.
What happened was that Aurelita and I went to the movies on Thursdays, because it was ladies’ day though it was actually night, but we didn’t go to the movies after all. Mommy gave me a nickel and Aurelita came to pick me up early and we made as if we were going to the movies every Thursday, because on Thursday children only had to pay five cents. In the theater they always showed love movies with Jorge Negrete and Carlos Gardel and so on, and we soon got bored and left and went to the park and started doing it. Sometimes they showed funny movies and that made us laugh, but the other kind, as soon as they started singing and kissing we got up and left and hid under the tobacco truck. When the tobacco truck wasn’t there we hid in the long grass in the vacant lot. It was more difficult to see from there, but when the truck wasn’t there they did a lot more things. Petra’s boyfriend, Petra that’s Ciana’s daughter, would come every Thursday. I mean he came on Thursdays and also on Sundays. On Sundays they would go into the park but on Thursdays we made as if we were going to the movies and went to look through the open door instead. Petra’s mother also stayed in the house but at the far end of it and as the floor was made of wood it creaked loudly when she was coming and then she’d get up and return to sitting in her own seat and she’d come and talk or look through the window and gaze up and down
the street or she would look at the sky or make believe she was looking at the sky or at the street and then she’d go back in and stay there. But between the time Petra’s mother went into the house and when she came to the sitting room to talk or look out the window, they made full use of the place, and as for us, we got a front-row view, as they always left the door open to make everything look innocent.
It always began the same way. She would be sitting in her rocking chair and he’d be in his, like this, side by side, and she’d always be wearing a hoop skirt but in her customary half-mourning, and sitting in the rocking chair good as gold, talking or making as if she was talking. Then, when the old lady was safe inside, she’d turn her head and then he took out his thing and she began to touch it, to run her hand over it, and then fondling it, she would look out to see if the old woman was coming or not, then she got up from the rocking chair, picked up her skirts and sat in his lap and she began moving and he began rocking and all of a sudden she jumped up and sat down in her chair and he simply crossed his leg, like this, so that the old lady wouldn’t notice anything, and the old lady would go to the window and look at the street innocent-like or look at the sky or make believe she was and go back in again and they’d start
necking again. They spent the whole night like this, she touching his thing and him handling her and then she got down and put her head between his legs and stayed there for a while and then suddenly she sat up and it was because her mother was coming again and she would come and peer out of the window or else he would put on an act and talk to the old woman and laugh and all and she, Petra, would laugh too and talk in a high voice and the old woman would go to the window again and then back in once more and this time she would stay a long time, saying her prayers or something like that because she was very religious and always said prayers, especially since her husband died. Then they’d take up where they left off and began really making it and as we could see it all from our hiding place so we took full advantage of it too.
Three Trapped Tigers Page 1
