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by Louis-Ferdinand Celine


  “No poison in the sandwiches? … what do you think, Kracht? … special sandwiches just for us?”

  He must know, the booted hypocrite! I tell him, so he can pass it on to the ladies!

  “We won’t touch the stuff … neither will Bébert … so what’s the good of this trip? … so much trouble … it doesn’t make sense, Kracht! … look, the mother, the daughter, the coachman, two horses! … all for nothing!”

  We laugh … I haven’t surprised him …

  “No! No, Doctor! certainly not! you have nothing to fear!”

  What a comfort! … but he has a little request …

  “Doctor, you can help me! Will you?”

  “Certainly, Kracht!”

  He whispers in my ear …

  “Out there by the lake, if you see any signs … traces … if anybody tells you …”

  “Yes … yes, Kracht, of course! the beadle, you mean?”

  “Ah, you’ve guessed?”

  I think of him all day long! … and Pastor Rieder! … and the Revizor!”

  “If you see anything …”

  “I’ll jump them! I’ll bind them! I’ll bring them back!”

  Ah, here we are! … the ladies are ready!

  I leave Kracht … oh, but he wants to be in on our departure … he follows me … we climb in … I sit down between Countess Thor von Thorfels and her daughter … Kracht shakes hands with everybody and wishes us fine weather, a fine trip, a fine everything! there! he gets out … and away we go!

  This charabanc reminds me of Place Clichy before 1914, the barker on the running board, the races … “first bus for Auteuil! the first! …” the appeal to the hesitant! … here we weren’t going to Auteuil … what was it all about? … oh well, a delightful ride … the ladies … the baskets … we’re off to a slow trot … I wouldn’t exactly call it a road … not … a kind of track between the beets … very wide and sandy … no reason to think it would never end … anyway, here we are … pretty good shaking … the springs on this charabanc are very stiff … maybe it hasn’t even got any springs … broken? … possible … When he slowed the horses to a walk, we joggled a little less … not much … one good thing, Countess Thor von Thorfels couldn’t make me listen to her … her marvelous Paris days, the battle of flowers, the Pré-Catalan, Bagatelle … the races in Etampes … even at a walk the chains and axles on that charabanc made, such a clatter you couldn’t possibly talk … I saw her open her mouth from time to time and try … we crossed fields … and more fields … potatoes … fields and fields … and then sand … plain sand … and stones … and then finally after two hours … a few trees … pines … a clump of woods … was that their hunting preserve? … every three four trees, high up in the branches, a little platform … for hunters on the lookout for foxes … which reminds me, when I was in prison in Copenhagen, Denmark, I met some soldiers who had served around Tromjö, they told me about the strategy of the Russian “commandos” … they had platforms in the treetops too … long distance precision firing, they’d pick off the officers and noncoms … I spoke about that in another book, you’ll say … you’re getting old, you’re repeating yourself, you can’t stop! … take Duhamel for instance, you won’t find ten lines without his trotting out his “egregious” … it’s a tic of old age … like big calves, high arches, the cult of big or little tits … they’re with you for life! … Duhamel, the softsoaping stoolie, “egregious” will be with him for life … they’ll engrave it on his tomb … take the next number of the Figaro … look through the columns, those mealy-mouthed meanderings … very surprising if you don’t run across “egregious”… it’s him! it’s him!

  “My poor friend, you’re tottering!”

  Old age! just like Duhamel! but him it’s every day and very well paid! me, it’s for next to nothing! … and not every day, every four five years! … Duhamel the baleful belcher knew how to go about it … five six academies in his buttonhole! … can I help it if I’m senile and repetitious and my muse wobbles … but it’s easy to pretend your memory has played you false! “Prove it! Prove it!” Okay, I will! … I’ll prove it by starting in again on the war in Lapland … the Russian commandos’ trick was to hide these “precision markswomen” in the branches … their job was to single out the officers … ping … they were only allowed one bullet! … if they were located, curtains! … no more dead-eyed Dora!

  I see I’ve been taking you for a ride … can’t be helped, it’s my age! I’ve been telling you about those lady soldiers with their platforms up in the trees … we saw the same perches at the edge of those pine woods … but what about those sequoias? all I could see was plain ordinary trees, larch, beech, wild cherry … I finally ask …

  “Sequoias, Madame la Comtesse?”

  “No! … no! … farther on!”

  Maybe so, but we’ll never get there … the road’s getting worse and worse, all mudholes, the charabanc tilts … tilts! … the ladies too! … we’re all going to fall out! … I don’t think I’m any more undignified than the ladies … we go on very slowly … from puddle to puddle … and finally … ah! taller trees on both sides … this must be it! the famous forest! … I don’t say a word, I wait … maybe another mile … or two … the road’s not so bad now … we’re coming to their lousy rallying point … sawed off tree trunks … they weren’t lying … I’ve seen big trees in Africa and, believe me, these here were very imposing … and the deep shade under those enormous branches! … we stop …

  “Are you tired?”

  “Oh no, Madame! … not at all! … we’re so pleased! … enchanted!”

  “Then shall we get out … shall we? … it’s not raining … we shall have our lunch …”

  “Certainly … certainly, Madame …”

  Always willing … we never say no! … in the shade of the big trees … Inge and her mother want to go on a little farther … they have a few words together … “there they go!” I say to myself … “I knew it! they’re in this together!” … I’d had my suspicions from the start, especially all those sandwiches … and the pâté en croûte … with mushrooms! … no, thank you, fair ladies!

  “Madame! … Madame!”

  They’re calling … it’s Lili they want … out behind the trees … she comes back … nothing much … they’ve been peeing … I assure you, I’m not talking about peeing for the hell of it … it seems that Inge wants to get back in the carriage … okay, why not … we wait … ah, here are the ladies! … at last! … and now the picnic! the baskets! … after the first sandwich Countess Thor von Thorfels starts up … she wants us to listen and correct her French … my oh my! never do that! foreigners want to speak their own special French, all mistakes … be very careful not to find anything wrong with it! even very politely! … we’re expected to keep very quiet and listen … the balls at the Hotel de Ville … Monsieur Bourgeois … and Monsieur Bourgeois again … Sarah Bernhardt in her dressing room … the Duchess de Camastra ° … Boni de Castellane ° … Sem ° …

  Inge attends to the baskets … she sets out the lunch … they’ve got everything … sausage, pâté, delikatessen, watercress, jam … I watch her, every move … it doesn’t look like much, but it’s exhausting … watching every move for years … the meaning behind it, the intentions … all around you … and not for an hour, for twenty years! … in and out of stir … that’s a long time! … humans with their gestures and intentions … ship them all to the ends of the world and they’ll come back still worse! … even pulverized, sub-atomized, they’ll coagulate into maggots … superactivated worms, so otherwordly vicious that they make death impossible … never mind! … we were talking about the picnic under the sequoias … Lili, Le Vig and me, we’ve agreed not to touch a thing … but we’ve got to be polite, we pretend … Lili hands me a sandwich … another … Le Vig too … I’ve got enormous pockets … only one hand free, but it’s very deft … I think … the only trouble … if they see my pockets swelling up … they won’t like it … I throw a few sa
ndwiches behind me … and I chew … and chew some more … and tell the old battleax that it’s really amazing all she’s seen in Paris! … the Exhibition … the Ferris Wheel … and the Charity Bazaar … a year later she’d have gone up in flames!

  “You think so? … really? …”

  “Yes indeed, Madame!”

  “I was invited, you know!”

  “Certainly, Madame!”

  I evoke … I evoke … the Charity Bazaar … the greatest names in France … a furnace! … what a disaster! … while she’s busy with her emotion I stuff my pockets … have I got pockets! … ten! twelve on each side … lebewurst! … foie gras … it spreads, it melts, it oozes … my pants are full of it… I’ll be afraid to move … horrible when I have to! … but Inge interrupts her mother … time to get up … the picnic’s over … at least a three-hour drive ahead of us … the horses are rested …

  “And besides, Mother, you know I must speak to the doctor!”

  Ah! what’s that? talk about what? plenty of chance to speak to me in Zornhof, so why here? … some gimmick again? must be something they’ve cooked up together … mother and daughter… Madame Thor von Thorfels takes Lili and Le Vig off in the other direction … that clinches it … under another set of sequoias … leaving me alone with Inge …

  “Come along!”

  She wants me to follow her … sure thing! … I obey … first on my knees, then standing … with the help of my two canes … my pants are dripping … both legs … butter and mayonnaise … and pâté … hands her a laugh! …

  “So sorry!”

  “But you haven’t eaten a thing! neither has your friend! or your wife!”

  Me and my deftness … she’d seen it all! … and how comical I am! … very German when she laughs, hard, embarrassing to look at … the Teutons weren’t made to laugh …

  “Do empty your pockets! .. , shall I help you?”

  I don’t need any help … if that’s the way it is, plunk! plunk! … I scoop out the gook by the handful! … and throw it away!

  “And now come this way … if you please … I must speak to you …”

  Another one! … this mania of theirs for taking you off somewhere … they’ve all got it! Kracht’s not the only one! … a little stroll … where’s this Inge going? … and say, what about Hjalmar the beadle? … and the Revizor? … and the pastor? … Kracht had asked me specially … I could ask Inge … but she wasn’t in a listening mood, she was leading me farther, away I … very soft this ground, carpeted with sequoia needles … the long-legged bitch! … I don’t trust this woman … she walks better than I do, she hasn’t got two canes to get in her way, she takes big long strides … all of a sudden, whoopsie-daisy … she lifts up her skirt! … above the thighs! high spirits! … not bad, pretty good muscles, and long … but Christ, this is no time … it’ll never be time again, I’ve seen enough legs for a lifetime! … my thoughts are elsewhere, Inge! … the play’s over, the curtain’s down! … women’s sexuality never gives up, they don’t realize that men … even the worst priapic monsters … a drop of rain and it all shrivels up! … they want it, they want it! … it’s a terrible blow to the ladies when a man can’t get it up! take female cats, the way they feel about spayed toms! … massacred if they don’t run away! … but where can I run to? … I’d better show a little interest … we come to a stump … not very big … room for one to sit on … she invites me to sit close to her … okay! … we’re way deep in the woods, I think … nobody can see us … I think … but not so sure … maybe somebody’s taking our picture? or better still, marksmen in the treetops? … or markswomen! I wouldn’t be surprised! … she takes my hand … both hands … maybe I ought to kiss her? … the polite dung to do? … I don’t know … this business of dragging me off so far … in the shade of these thick … matted branches …

  “Doctor, I’ve got to tell you!”

  She kisses me …

  “You must have noticed?”

  No answer from me …

  “My husband, you see …”

  Time for a bit of emotion …

  “Oh yes! … yes, Madame!”

  “Oh, but you haven’t seen it all!”

  I can guess the rest …

  “Well, I wanted to ask you …”

  “Please do, Madame!”

  “Oh, it’s something very difficult!”

  White of her to tell me …

  “Kracht knows … but he doesn’t want to … he’s a pharmacist, you know, but he’s an SS-man too … you know …”

  I dont see what that has to do with it …

  “Well then, Madame?”

  “You know that my husband strikes me … he’s not bad … by nature … but in his fits … you’ve seen him! …”

  Oh, I’m quick and keen … with all the nights, so many nights, I spend thinking I can foresee just about anything …

  “You know what I’m going to ask you?”

  “I have an idea, Madame …”

  “You think so?”

  She opens her blouse … blue silk … enough for me to get a good look at her breasts … and between her breasts a slip of paper … carefully folded … she hands it to me … it’s in French, typewritten … typewriters are rare in Zomhof, I haven’t seen any…

  “You’ve got your permit to practice?”

  I play it dumb … ,

  “Erlaubnis?”

  “Oh yes, Madame! oh yes!”

  I ponder … she thinks I’m stupid … she takes my hand again …

  “Feel how it’s beating!”

  She presses my hand to her heart … and then good grief! between her legs! the other hand! … expects me to play the game! … a little fun! … no dice! no dice! Madame Inge still has her hopes! … she hasn’t caught on yet, we have! … she thinks with a few little dodges, a murder or two, she can solve her problem … I wish her luck! … but ever since the Gare de l’Est, since the ticket gate … we’ve known what to expect … that we’re fair game for the crummiest con jobs … bound bands and feet … Madame Inge thinks her tricks will take … don’t be silly! … what is this? … crude stuff, my lady, crude stuff!

  “What did you wish to ask me, Madame?”

  She hesitates … does she really dare? …

  “Of course, Madame!… by all means! …”

  And out it comes! … with my “permit to practice” I’m to go to Moorsburg and make the acquaintance of Hase … and speak to him and ask him for a few drugs … Mathias Hase the druggist… nothing to it! … let’s see what these drugs are … neatly typed in French … Dolosal … curare … morphine … cyanide …

  “As much as he can give you!”

  One little recommendation! … there were two druggists in Moorsburg!, but hers, the one I was supposed to see, was right on the road, I’d find it easy, I’d see a statue … Fontane! ° Fontane! in a frock coat! … I can’t go wrong … right in front of the drugstore … the statue! … ah, I’m to go alone! … Lili and Le Vig will wait for me … I see she’s got it all figured out … where did she get this slip of paper with the French typing? … I don’t ask her, I’ll find out later on … what I feared for the moment was that instead of being supposedly alone we were having our picture taken … the bushes full of cameras … that the whole thing was a set up … and old lady Thor in cahoots! … in that case my goose was cooked! unlikely, you’ll say! … not at all! … with her practically naked … knees! … belly button! … disheveled! … even if I had nothing to do with it! … thinking it oven fifteen years later … I wouldn’t have given her more than ten out of twenty … you won’t often find ten out of twenty, even in the most celebrated beauties … good Lord! what a patchwork of imperfections! … wads, blubber, cellulitis … they only bear looking at sitting down, in the drawing room or in a car … or reclining, after the massage … All in all: what interested us was getting out of there! … no time for bedtime stories … Inge was just behindhand … she hadn’t caught on yet … Mathias Hase and his dr
ugs? poison her cripple? what did that have to do with us? trifles! … there’d be plenty more of the same, I could bank on that! … people who live in comfort see the world all pink and fluffy, they think everything’ll come out all right! and their own crummy capers … what about them? slander!

  “Certainly, Madame, certainly! … tomorrow!”

  “I can’t’go with you … you must go and see Mathias alone … you mustn’t take your wife … or your friend …”

  “Oh, of course not!”

  “You must deliver these medicines to me personally … but immediately! … immediately! … you’ll ask for me at the farm …”

  I couldn’t go wrong … detailed orders … while smoothing out her dress … and fixing her hair … it was all over the place … we couldn’t have looked worse if I’d raped her … photographers? … I couldn’t see a thing … nothing in the underbrush … nothing in the treetops … Madame Inge struck, me as capable of anything … hell, the rest of them too! … the old bag, the Rittmeister, and the cripple … not to mention his colossus! … the whole lot of them! … manor, farm, hamlet, prisoners … even the geese …

  So tomorrow well go to Moorsburg, all settled … but where are we going now? … back to the carriage? … maybe she’s going to show me some underground refuge … the way whats-isname had to show me what was left of the airfield … Inge didn’t seem to be armed … which didn’t tell me what was behind the trees or the next hummock … I’d seen worse in Grünwald … the underbrush is a setup … who fired? … you never find out! … actually nothing had happened … we’re on our way back to the original coppice … to Lili and the countess … and Le Vig … they’d been waiting awhile, but they hadn’t been bored … the countess had made them taste the petits fours … they’d carefully spat them out again … with her it was easy, she didn’t look … Bébert had himself a mess of fish out of the lake … they’d listened to the old bag, same conversation with a few variations, the moving sidewalk, Bullier’s dance hall, the banks of the Marne … oh, they’d listened politely and answered politely … but mighty glad to see me back! … what had we been doing out there in the woods? … nothing at all! yah! yah! … never say anything about anything to anybody … Time to drive on … giddyap horsie! all aboard, ladies and gentlemen! … we pile in … a grandiose avenue! as wide as the Champs-Elysées … bigger and bigger sequoias …

 

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