North (18 page)

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Authors: LOUIS-FERDINAND CÉLINE

Tags: #Autobiographical fiction, #War Stories, #Historical Fiction, #Historical, #Biographical, #World War, #1939-1945, #1939-1945 - Fiction, #Fiction, #Literary, #Adventure stories, #War & Military, #General, #Picaresque literature

BOOK: North
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"That what you gave your coupons for, Lili? . . . I'm starved! . . . What about you?"

"Yes, well tell Harras . . ."

"Harras doesn't give a shit! look at his bay window! . . . he's shoveling it in right now! You're dreaming Ferdie . . . they've got everything at the farm, did you see those geese! . . . not for us! . . . there were sandwiches in Grünwald . . . that's why they threw us out! to come here and starve!"

He was shouting . . .

It's a setup, Ferd! where are your eyes? all in cahoots! the cuckold, Harras, the whore, and the
Landrait 
. . . perfect harmony! . . . listen to me! . . . when we left Baden-Baden we shouldn't have fallen for that shit! . . . north! east! and south! no! we go back to France!"

"Le Vig, you're delirious! in France they'd skin you alive!"

He thinks it over . . .

"Okay, Ferdinand, you're right . . . I admit it . . . that's why they treat us like this . . . they know!"

"Well anyway, how's your room?"

"My room? It's a beaut . . . come!"

I follow him . . . to the basement . . . the little staircase . . . a long corridor . . . his "room" is a cell, bars and all . . . past the kitchen, on the left . . . kitchen? well, sort of, we never saw anybody in it . . .

"Say, that mastiff . . ."

"I see him, he's not growling . . ."

"But he doesn't look very friendly . . ."

An enormous dog but very skinny . . . lying on his side on the tiles, it didn't look as if they gave him much to eat . . . in all regimes certain creatures are singled out for austerity, for virtue . . . the defenseless and the animals . . . he growled a little as we passed . . . was he going to eat us? . . . in addition to starving him, as a demonstration of virtue old von Leiden, the Uhlan major, took him every day oh a tour of the estate, himself on a bicycle, the dog on the leash . . . to let everybody see that Iago was starving, that life was no joke at the manor . . . I could see us one day, all three of us harnessed to something, demonstrational workers . . . after that dinner, lukewarm soup and hell, we hadn't far to go . . . nothing skinny about the secretaries, actually they were on the plump side, it sure wasn't from the soup! . . . they must make up for it in their rooms, locked tight, on sauerkraut and big fat sausages . . . the transparent soups were for us! . . . in the first place the balcony outside their rooms smelled too good, they must be cooking something, tasty little stews! all over the house there was some little smell . . . really appetizing . . . except in the dining room . . . say, even here in this basement corridor I smell something . . . we hadn't noticed it at first . . . I poke Le Vig . . . "Let's go see!". . . you had to push through a big heavy door . . . two doors . . . there was something on a wood fire . . . a kitchen four times the size of our tower . . . we'd thought the place was empty . . . it was going full steam, three stoves, kettles as big as houses! . . . two women with bare feet and two little girls tying up legs of lamb . . . larding them! . . . they don't mind us, it makes them laugh . . . that we've located their kitchen! . . . later I found out . . . the kids were part of the crew that entertained the old man, he had a whole crowd up there, Russian and Polish . . . the old geezer was eighty, he'd been horseback riding only last year . . . now he had a different sport, he went down on all fours and the kids rode him . . . "giddyap, horsie! they whipped him with his riding whip! . . . till the blood came! . . . he loved it! . . . all around his study! faster! faster! . . .
los!
. . . into the next room . . . "witches! witches!" he yelled at them, with his bare old ass! . . .

He had a lot of books down there . . . and upstairs too, in the other tower . . . his sister Marie-Thérèse's quarters, I'll tell you about her . . . the dungeon, the other wing of the manor . . . Paul de Kock . . . Dumas Père and Fils . . . Murger . . . Paul de Kock was his favorite now . . . he wouldn't read anything else . . . I heard all this from Inge . . . After his sessions on all fours he collapsed, he'd lie there for hours with his ass all red and his tongue hanging out . . . the old swine liked to suffer, but not to go without good food! . . . the downstairs kitchen, the one on Le Vigs corridor operated just for him, he wouldn't eat anything from the farm . . . he didn't trust them . . . a little something in the stew . . .

Anyway Frau Kretzer had taken our food cards, not very many coupons, it's true, but something a little margarine . . . half a pound of
leberwurst
. . . I say to Lili:

"Get them back! well find something . . . there must be a food store . . . or in Moorsburg! . . . ask nicely . . ." with Lili I don't have to worry, she'll never offend anybody . . . and nobody'll ever give her anything . . . if she doesn't get them, Le Vig can try . . . meanwhile we're famished! . . . if only Harras would get back! . . . from his grubfest with the legless bastard and Inge and the Uhlan . . . I'll tell him what I think of their Reich hospitality . . . the Uhlan
Landrat
is with them . . . seems he speaks French . . . we didn't get to hear much . . . he didn't deign . . . ah, here comes somebody . . . voices . . . we'll see . . . sure, the whole bunch! . . . the cripple's with them, a Russian prisoner's carrying him, a colossus, the cripple's hanging on to his neck, his two stumps around his waist . . . the cripple surveys us from his crow's nest . . . he asks us in German:

"You all right, you French folk?"

I answer quick:

"Couldn't be better!"

I don't want Le Vig to speak first . . . they're all a bit flushed . . . especially the
Landrat
. . . he speaks to us for the first time . . . and in French . . .

"You'll be taking walks, I presume?"

"Oh yes, Monsieur le
Landrat
, with your permission . . ."

"You have it! You have it! . . . You don't know Zornhof?"

"No, Monsieur le
Landrat!''

"The baroness will show you . . ."

An excursion is planned then and there . . . she'll show us around! . . . we'll see magnificent sights . . . the beauties of Prussia . . . and especially the big forest, nothing like it in all Europe! . . . sequoias! unique! . . . giant trees! . . . seven thousand acres! . . . two sawmills . . . we can see the trees in the distance . . .

Fact! we can barely see them . . . yes, these von Leidens are a hundred percent not to be pitied . . . genuine lords of the manor, enormous estates . . . the lukewarm-water
mahlzeit
meals are absolutely intentional, on purpose! one look at their bellies! even the cripple has a paunch . . . I don't want Le Vig to get excited, if he blows his top it'll be worse than Baden-Baden . . . where'll we go if they throw us out?

"Delighted, my dear Harras! aren't we, Lili, aren't we, Le Vig? magnificent trees those sequoias! two hundred feet! I've seen such forests in California, but in Europe . . . I didn't know . . ."

"You'll see! . . . you'll see, Céline . . . the baroness will be only too glad . . ."

This Simmer, I notice, is powdered and lipsticked . . . manicured nails . . . would he be a bit of a fag? . . . of course that wouldn't prevent him from doing what has to be done to the
baronin
. . . strict pederasts are very rare, they mostly have scads of children, model fathers and grandfathers . . . this Simmer . . . I never saw so many rings, an enormous cabochon and a signet ring with his arms and all amethyst and a big cameo on his little finger . . . plus three Iron Crosses . . . religious too, a long gold chain across his chest with a Holy Ghost at the end . . . I found out later on . . . they were all loaded . . . they'd get along fine with refugees of the same class, well-heeled Carbuccias ° for instance, or Gallimards or Lavais, but us there so emaciated and bedraggled, why hadn't we been hanged? the real iron curtain is between the rich and the down-and-outers . . . between people of equal fortune, ideas don't count . . . when you take a good look, your opulent Nazi, an inhabitant of the Kremlin, directors of Gnome et Rhone . . . asshole buddies . . . they exchange wives, gargle the same Scotch, traipse around the same golf courses, buy and sell the same helicopters, and open the hunt together . . . breakfasts in Honolulu,
soupers
in Saint-Moritz! . . . the rest is eyewash! . . . blarney! filthy sweaty tramps, butt-picking bellyachers, back where you belong! that's what they think of us for sure! . . . the four of them and the cripple on the giant's back . . . one look at us, you can see the beginning of a snarl . . . I ask the big bruiser's name . . .

"Nicholas!"

Harras tells me where he comes from, the ends of the East, wounded prisoner, Harras himself had brought hirirback to work on the farm and the
Dienstelle 
. . . and all he does is carry the cripple . . .

As long as they're here they want to show us the barns . . . we go back through the park with them . . . really comforting, you can see it yourself, the way certain people manage, the way they make the best of revolutions, wars, earthquakes . . . always some cozy setup . . . everything's falling apart? so what? never fear! . . . life goes on! . . . a month . . . a year . . . and presto! . . . here they are again . . . in another racket a thousand times as cushy . . . you'll see after the "atomic'' shindig! . . . ants, termites, compound ashes! you'll find them comfortably settled in climatized tunnels, the basement of Kilimanjaro . . . private! this Nicholas now, the colossal wounded prisoner, he'd come from outermost trans-Caspia just to carry the cripple around! . . . the von Leidens, rest assured, wanted for nothing! or Nicholas either! . . . no virtue for him . . . virtue was for us and Iago! . . . I can bet that carrier-nurse had double rations . . . I wait till we get out of the barn to have a word with Harras alone . . . fat chance! . . . he's got something to tell me . . . urgent! . . . he takes me to another drawing room . . . hadn't seen it . . . Louis XV . . . not bad . . . six windows overlooking the plain . . . down below, the little pond, the one you saw from Le Vig's . . . and geese . . . and more geese . . . and another pond full of reeds . . .

"This plain . . . all the way to the Urals, Céline!"

He's told me that already . . .

"Yes, the Urals . . . but first Berlin! . . . air raids . . . you'll see . . . the whole place in flames!"

"Soon?"

"Oh, eight ten days! . . . here you're out of danger . . ."

"Think so?"

"They won't bother with Zornhof . . . the essential these days is to be small enough, not worth a bomb!"

"And we aren't?"

"No! . . . or the von Leidens or Madame or her father or the Kretzers . . ."

"Has the old man got a sister?"

"Yes, in the other tower . . . you won't see her, except in church on Sunday, at the organ . . . well, right now I don't know, things change, maybe she's getting flighty . . . but one thing will never change: she can't abide her brother . . . the
Rittmeister!
or the cripple! or Inge!"

"All right, Harras, I understand, the bombs won't kill us, but what they give us to eat here certainly will . . ."

"True, Celine, very true! . . . but you're better off than in Paris! . . . don't forget that! . . . never forget it! all those people, Kretzer, the
Landrat
, old man von Leiden, the son, the sister, the office girls, the whole gang, aren't worth the rope . . . I know, I know! . . . but you're better off than in Berlin, that's the main thing! . . . Berlin will be one raging fire, very soon!"

"You mustn't think we're complaining, Harras! . . . we could manage on a thousand calories, but there aren't three hundred in that soup . . ."

"I know, and la Kretzer took your cards . . ."

"All of them, Harras!"

I'll give her a piece of my mind, and I'll speak to Inge, it'll be all right . . ."

"I haven't much faith in Madame von Leiden, maybe she's worse than the son, or; the father . . . or the prisoners . . . we've seen them, they hate each other, but on one thing they get together, that we're the scum of the earth and it's a damn shame that we're here and not hanged . . ."

"You think so, Celine? Did they tell you?"

"Harras, if I waited for people to tell me, we'd have been sent to the cleaners long ago . . ."

"You're right, my good friend, but at a time like this? you've got a roof, you wouldn't stand a chance in France! . . . here you'll eat! . . . if you really want to . . . do you think everything is sweetness and light between us? even between the
Landrat
and the von Leidens?"

"Sixes and daggers, I'll bet . . . granted! . . . but you people . . . while you're waiting for everything to collapse . . . you roll in clover! . . . that's something! .  . ."

"True! But very disagreeably, I assure you, colleague! . . . all these people denounce, plot . . . and rave! not, just the prisoners! the people in the village, all of them! . . . the
bibélforschers
too! . . . even the geese I think! . . .and the cows!"

"I'm sure of it! but what do they denounce? to whom?"

"Everything! . . . to Adolf Hitler! to the Chancellery! . . . what doesn't exist they make up! somebody made up the Crusades, didn't they? so I ask you? . . . not just Zornhof! oh no! All Germany! . . . twenty! . . . thirty thousand villages like this! same in France! . . . anti-Boche! . . . the Crusades! the
Landrat
spends his time getting people arrested . . . not enough trees to hang them all! . . . if the rabbits could speak! the prisoners are great hunters . . . two shot last week! . . . I've told you, this
Landrat
is a bad egg, but good or bad, it comes to the same, he knows what he can expect, he's no fool, he's getting even in advance . . . when you're in Zornhof, don't go into the houses, not even if they invite you . . . especially if they invite you! . . . they're all Germans, so they say, German families . . . the men are fighting at the front . . . actually they're Slavs, here for two generations, but still Slavs . . . Polish . . . Russian . . . and they hate us . . . the
gooks
die for you, your best soldiers, but they hate you too . . . hell, the Roman gladiators detested Rome! . . . the lansquenets here detested their captains . . . always making war on other lansquenets as murderous thieving as themselves, from other villages! . . . or the same villages! . . . courage and dying don't prove a thing . . . the psychologists are idiots, the moralists are wrong about everything . . . only facts exist . . . and not for long . . . for the moment one dung is sure, the Russians will go as far as Berlin and a little farther . . . they're at home here, don't you see? . . . the pastor here is a German, Rieder, you'll see him if he turns up again . . . as anti-Nazi as the Russians . . . we haven't enough police . . . anyway I've warned you, the most dangerous for you are the French prisoners . . ."

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