The Fata Morgana Books (3 page)

Her withdrawal, from that moment on, slowly tore me apart. In the days that followed, she remained immersed in her frantic activities; from time to time, she granted me a moment of conversation, but right away some work-related thought would distract her and she would set off again. She was at the end of her contract and was about to leave the country; she had received several offers, one, from her present employer, involving the city where I was usually posted (but that didn’t interest her at all), another to return to M — for a different organization, and still others for different countries. She couldn’t make up her mind, she discussed it with everyone, and also carried on endlessly about all the problems she had encountered in M — . At the time, wounded by her indifference, I thought I had been terribly mistaken, that I had radically misinterpreted signs that for her must have been only those of friendship; later on, I came to think that her time in M — , which had visibly exhausted her, must have touched a certain point in such a way that she, who always seemed so sure of what she was doing and of where she was going, had in fact completely lost her bearings, and now could only focus on her concrete problems, an ultimate refuge. She remained friendly; but whatever the reason, she had shifted away from the brief contact that had formed between us, and this disengagement quickly broke me apart. The hardest thing was the nights: she invited me to stay with her, she refused to let me sleep on the couch, she insisted on putting me in her room, in a separate bed. Thus, she slept a meter away from me, almost naked, and it was impossible for me to touch her. I myself was exhausted by my work of the last few months, by my disgust with the country in which I was working, by my nagging uncertainty about the usefulness of the actions I was organizing; the indifference of C., or simply her absence, finished plunging me into misery. I always drink a lot, I drank even more. I almost didn’t sleep, and every night, as I went to bed with this separation between our bodies, I felt as if I were skewering myself on a knife. I would wake up with a start, sometimes went back to sleep; in the morning, I was emptied out, exhausted, and the extremely unpleasant matters I had come to settle in K — only added to my disarray. Once my eyes were used to the darkness, at night, I could clearly see her shape; sometimes her sheet slid off, and I would gaze for a long time at her white back, her sharp little breasts. Rarely have I felt a more violent yet less physical desire: what my body sought wasn’t so much to make love with her as simply to press itself against her. I was distraught, in an extreme state, I was losing my grip; when we spoke, my conversation was often flat, tense, and it was impossible for me to express what was gnawing away at me. She too was a little ill and wasn’t sleeping well. Thus strange moments would occur that I still don’t understand. Once, I remember, caught in our respective insomnias, our eyes met, and we looked at each other for a long time, without smiling, without speaking. Another time, in a similar moment, where the loss of sleep seemed to make her suffer almost as much as me, I held my hand out from one bed to the other, and she took it until she fell back asleep. The last night of our stay in K — , she had gone to bed before me, I sat on the edge of my bed, facing her, and took her hand; overwhelmed with fatigue and sadness, I kissed that hand, I caressed it, and finally placed my head on it for a long while. I don’t know if we spoke, or if I simply surrendered to that hand. She finally took it back. Mad with suffering, almost in tears, I leaned over her and kissed her on the lips, gently. Then I went to bed. That night was as bad as the others. I can’t manage to grasp the significance of these moments when, if she wasn’t encouraging me at all, she certainly wasn’t pushing me away either. But something very strong prevented me from pushing, from provoking her to a rejection that would at least have had the merit of being clear. Perhaps she herself was in a form of despair that floated along next to mine without being able to meet it. In our conversations, she certainly didn’t imply this: she spoke only about the positive aspects of her life, or else about her concrete problems, which corresponded to her aggressive, determined character. She had a child, I haven’t mentioned that, she wanted to see him again and spoke to me passionately about him. As for her husband, he had vanished from the picture some time ago. I suspect something must have been eating away at her, something fundamental that pushed her among other things to live such an unstable life, but she must have been incapable, by her very nature, of recognizing it. That must be the great difference between us. On the last day, as I was watching her pack, she asked me some questions about me. I could only answer superficially: it seemed impossible, from her questions and her tone, for her to understand or accept true answers, even if I had been capable of formulating them. “Are you suffering?” she asked me point-blank; once again, I evaded the question. The conversation didn’t go much further and left me confused. I didn’t know if I had said too much or too little. Her reaction was illegible, once again she was elsewhere, caught up in her departure. We were all taking, along with her colleague D., a commercial flight for G — . She didn’t want to stop in G — but was forced to for administrative reasons. The boarding, at the airport, was extremely chaotic, but the flight was quick. I had hoped to take a room in the same hotel as she: one last chance, I said to myself, to resolve this story one way or another. Then, on the plane, as she was chatting away with D., despair overwhelmed me completely, I felt soiled, and I was overcome with the desire to just drop the whole thing, to leave her at the airport in G — and never to see her again, never to expose myself again to this indifference whose profound ambiguity was tearing me apart. My weakness got the upper hand, I went to that hotel: there were no more rooms. Good, I said to myself, at least that’s settled for me. We agreed to meet at eight that evening; I came, but she wasn’t there anymore. She had left a note at the reception for another man, whom she had to see for professional reasons: for me, nothing. Later that evening, I found her in a restaurant with all her colleagues. She was immersed in conversation with her boss, she barely looked at me. Taking advantage of a pause, I made a date with her for the next afternoon, for lunch. She offhandedly agreed and told me to come find her at the office. They all left soon afterwards and she barely said goodbye to me. She was far, very far away. The next day, around noon, I found her at the office with D., settling their administrative problems. She was exasperated and paid almost no attention to my presence. I waited for an hour, asking her two or three times if she planned on lunching with me: “I don’t know, I don’t know,” she replied, “I have to go back to the hotel.” I was sitting in the lobby of the office where she was with the administrator when a little black and white bird flew in. It began walking around with disjointed but calm steps, surprised at the closed door. Then it turned on a little moth that was sleeping there and attacked it with its beak. The moth struggled, but in vain, and the bird swallowed it in a cloud of scales, a fine white dust of torn off wings forming a luminous halo around its head. C. was chatting with D., they were waiting for the administrator to pay them, they were talking animatedly about incidents of their work, laughing. I sat down near them, useless. Then the administrator returned. Once again, I asked C. if she wanted to come have lunch: her answer remained vague, it was obvious that her problems had completely absorbed her, I was only disturbing her. I left with barely a word, she did nothing to hold me back. The next day, the flight that was supposed to carry me away from there was canceled because of a holiday.

— SPRING 1997

So there she had said that and already it was irreparable. For him as well as for her not being the kind of man to take that lightly. But making a decision right away was not something he was capable of, nor she. So first think, then talk. But even before thinking first not thinking, waiting, letting a little time pass, foul time, in any case there would be enough left, even if in this precise case it was objectively limited, for concrete physiological reasons making it so that a certain amount of time of no reflection and of no discussion and hence of no decision would in itself be a decision, a decision made. So not to think right away, so as not to think in the heat of the moment, but still to think, and fairly quickly, when the moment is lukewarm rather than cold. So she then on her side first not thinking and then rather quickly thinking, and he on his side as well. The other just growing. He then thinking but without knowing how she was thinking, telling himself that in any case for him it was of no importance how she thought since she is the one who did the thing, so she has only to wait, and if no decision then in fact decision, thus it’s up to him to think now. First error of reasoning perhaps but nonetheless that is how he proceeds. For him, then, two questions, that is question 1 the other or not the other, and question 2 her or not her. To these two questions four solutions, that is solution 1 him without her without the other, solution 2 him with her without the other, solution 3 him without her with the other, solution 4 him with her with the other. Now for him at this stage with the other out of the question and hence out of the question solutions 3 and 4, remain thus numbers 1 or 2, without the other with or without her, hence why not with, it wasn’t so bad, and it would be almost like before, except that in the meantime there would have been that. But here precisely there is a problem, since if for him with the other out of the question, for her without the other out of the question, of this he is certain, even without asking, her I mean. So if for her without the other out of the question, then out of the question solutions 1 and 2, remain thus numbers 3 and 4, already out of the question. So let’s start again. For him solution 4 absolutely out of the question since the chains the locked door the key thrown in the river. Solution 1 out of the question as well since for him no advantage and for her absolutely out of the question. Solution 2 given the facts and with things as they are almost ideal for him but for her the opposite. And what’s more devilishly problematic since even if he could cajole her into it through a skillful combination of feelings and blackmail there would always be that and the weight and the fault of that, a fault which given that it would be he who would have cajoled her into this solution would fall automatically on him, whether she wanted it or not, whether she said so or not, and thus it would not at all be like before, since even if there were no more other which after all would be a great relief there would be that over him and thus also in another manner the cage the locked window the key thrown in the pond, and fault and suffering as well. Thus remains solution 3, ideal neither for him since no more her nor for her since no more him, but conceivable all the same since for her the other so not that, and for him since no more her not really the other either, since the other remains with her, that goes without saying, so even if in a certain manner the other in any case not the bars the iron door the key hanging on its nail and not that either so neither fault nor suffering, except the suffering of no more her nonetheless in the long run bearable especially given the other options, likewise for her in the long run also if not right away. A solution, then, if not perfect, in any case the least worst, given the situation, hence almost elegant in its own way, given the dilemma, more in any case than solution 2, solution less worse for him as has been said, but certainly more worse for her, and no doubt more more worse for her than it would be more less worse for him, if one could measure this sort of gradation of worstness with any precision that is certainly what one would judge, hence the conclusion that solution 3 the least worst absolutely, solutions 1 and 4 being regarded as out of the question, solution 1 for her as well as for him, solution 4 for him absolutely even if for her the ideal solution henceforth known as the eating one’s cake and having it too solution. This being settled time to talk since by dint of not thinking and then thinking time is passing, foul time, and the other is growing, the foul other, isn’t he, and by the way why not the foul other, isn’t she, after all there’s no way to know, yet precisely in this case the French language with the full weight of its history settles the matter, without asking anyone’s opinion, when in doubt as in the case of mixed plurals, thus the other he and not she, a little arbitrary perhaps, but that’s the way it is, blame the French language, in English one would just write it. Talking, then, a conversation in short, like many others. Yet a conversation means a scene, no escaping convention. The conversation thus takes place in a small park, by the side of a grey pond, in the clatter of buses and trolleys passing close by, between two rows of trees among which are chestnut trees, recognizable by their eggplant-shaped leaves and especially by the chestnuts strewing the ground. It’s fall and the yellowing leaves on the trees including on the chestnut trees are falling and strewing the ground and floating on the grey water of the pond and are sent whirling by the buses and the trolleys passing close by, and as for them their sad footsteps tread on the yellow and brown leaves and a few rare chestnuts and many husks, the green ones freshly fallen and the brown ones yesterday’s or the day before yesterday’s, shaken from the chestnut branches by filthy brats who collect the chestnuts for their slingshots, hence rare, but leave the husks, hence many. No that won’t do. Let’s say then instead a subway station, for instance, at random, the Mayakovskaya station in the Moscow subway, with all along its vaulted ceiling pretty oval mosaics, planes, blimps, parachutists, young athletes bursting with Soviet health and joy, all the way down the long hall with at the very end the bust of the poet, the foul bust, the foul poet. They are walking, she with her ashamed and suffering eyes fixed on the concrete of the platform, he with his face raised to the mosaics, the fragments of colors planted between the arches, all this imaginary innocence. No that won’t do either. In fact they are sitting since thinking about this has tired them too much to walk. In a park at night on a bench with all around them bawling drunkards, or else in a restaurant next to a bluish-green aquarium, or both at once, that is from the park to the restaurant to flee the drunkards then after the meal from the restaurant to the park, what in fact do these scenic details matter, the main thing is that they are seated and talking, or else they are seated and silent, or else they are walking and talking, or else they are walking and silent, or else he is walking back and forth and is silent and she is seated and with her ashamed and suffering eyes fixed on the table is also silent, or else he is the one seated and who with his face raised to the ceiling is silent, and she who is pacing back and forth and is also silent, the same when talking, he walking she seated, or she walking and he seated. Or else another variant they write letters that they hand each other or else that they leave on a table saying There, I’ve written, read. The main thing is that they are communicating, having done with not thinking and then thinking, except when they are not communicating, but given the situation even this non-communication is one, communication I mean. The other it should be said in passing as they are discussing it or not discussing it is living its other life, five millimeters and the heart systole diastole, probably six millimeters by the time they’re done discussing it, they should hurry. So he explains to her the questions 1 and 2 and the solutions 1 2 3 and 4, number 1 presenting no interest either for her nor for him and number 4 out of the question for the reasons already stated, thus remain number 2 and number 3, yet number 2 means that and the weight and the fault of that which would not fail no matter what she says to come weigh on his shoulders, hence number 3, the least worst solution, but there surprise, since for her number 3 out of the question, if no him then no other, no other without him, that’s the way it is, thus if number 3 then that and thus number 3 is in fact number 1, no other and her without him, him without her and without the other, shit, that screws everything up, let’s start again. So if number 3 out of the question for her to the point of being the same as number 1, his 3 leading automatically as it were to her 1, and number 4 known as far as she is concerned as eating one’s cake and having it too out of the question for him since the cage the ball and chain the key thrown down the well, there remains number 2 which for the record is him with her without the other so then that, and quickly, it’s growing. But that for her horror the garbage can her on all fours and blood on the floor, no, and what’s more if him with her why not the other, what’s the difference, impertinent woman’s logic. So he explains to her the cell the locked door, she understands but the other in green fields rivers what’s to be done. No fields no rivers for the other for the other the vacuum cleaner and blood on the floor, or else yes the fields the river, but without him, solution 3 for the record, but no since if no him then no other, solution 1, on all fours the matchbox the blood on the floor, and what’s more no him, absolute woe. Remains thus number 4 known as for the record eating one’s cake and having it too. This now called a conversation. Hard under such conditions to make any progress since he having carefully analyzed it all the solutions 1 2 3 and 4 to the questions 1 and 2, elementary logic, would be fully disposed to draw the necessary conclusions, yet when he talks to her about him she talks to him about the other and when he talks to her about the other she talks to him about him, thus transforming solution 3 into solution 1 and solution 2 into solution 4, the one known as eating one’s cake and having it too, for the record even if we are repeating ourselves a bit. So she then asking him to explain once again why number 4 out of the question, why him and the other together impossible, and he explaining to her once again the bars on the window the door triple locked the key thrown in the middle of the Atlantic, and she saying But no the green fields the rivers, and he replying I don’t give a fuck about your fields and your rivers, that’s not the problem, the problem is the horror, and they thus realizing that already at bottom they couldn’t agree, for at bottom she still had hope, foul hope, that’s a quotation you will have noticed, that it would be less bad than it had been before, that toward less worse they would head and the other too, and that as bad as it might be for the other bad would always be less bad than that, the worst would be less worse than nothing, vile optimism since he for one remained firmly convinced that bad it had been and worse it would yet be, and probably even worse beyond the worst imaginable, for imagination has its limits, but the worst does not, and that this other would once again be a story of rats in a cage, shit, another quotation, enough quotations, let us resume. Thus, the horror being a given, no need to shovel more on, no need to send yet another one to the slaughter, to perpetuate thus the horror forever and ever, better to call it a day here and now. But here and now is precisely where the other is, yes, that he had understood quite well, thank you, and thus for the other not to be here and now one had to go through that, yes, that too he had understood quite well, thank you, but for him that was less worse than the cage and the key and also the rats and the slaughter for the poor mindless other with its systoles diastoles, so there you go, solution 2, but not for her, for her number 2 was the garbage can her on all fours and the other in the matchbox and the blood everywhere everywhere everywhere, all right, so let’s take it from the top, solution 3, no garbage can no her on all fours and also no cage and no key, the fields yes, everything, except him far away from all that, solution as one can see if not ideal in any case the least worst since cutting everyone’s losses, for her no blood, for him no bars, for the other rivers, only problem she won’t have it, no him then no other, that’s the way it is, stubborn bitch, goddamn it. Let’s start again. Now what does she want she wants eating one’s cake and having it too that is for the record solution 4, but that is out of the question and there is no way she can force it on him, inasmuch as small reminder the fault is hers, if there is the other when there shouldn’t have been one it’s because there was a fault, and the fault is hers and hers only, on this point everyone is in agreement, she didn’t do it on purpose but still there was a mistake and from the mistake the other, thus a fault, hers and hers only, that’s settled, let’s move on. The fault given there remain four solutions, that is number 1 number 2 number 3 and number 4 already defined above reread if you don’t remember, now number 1 being of no interest to anyone and number 4 known as eating one’s cake and having it too being out of the question for him, there remain in all good logic and we are nothing if not logical number 2 and number 3. Yet she as soon as he talks to her of the other talks to him of him and thus passes from number 3 to number 2 and as soon as he talks to her of her talks to him of the other thus passing from number 2 to number 4, which is cunning but he says no and there they go again. Solution 3 she won’t have if number 3 then number 1 the basin the blood and what’s more no him. Remains number 2 but number 2 is also that, is also the vacuum cleaner the basin the blood on the floor me on all fours my love in the garbage can my love in the matchbox the horror a situation that you will have certainly noted all sentimental questions set aside would also have the effect of transferring the fault from her to him, as indicated above, reread if you’ve forgotten, for the initial fault is hers everyone agrees on that but given the fault there is solution 4 known as eating one’s cake and having it
too, and if not number 4 then number 2 with the matchbox on all fours, we’ll come back to that, number 3 out of the question for she won’t have it if number 3 then number 1, yes but he won’t have number 4, ah but that’s not the same thing oh well okay then, back to number 2, the basin the blood and all that she is willing, she says yes to the basin, but there’s nothing to be done, the fault passes to him, since fault there is since for her that means her on all fours and the blood, the horror, yes but the other for him is also the horror, the cage and the walls and the rats, ah but that’s not quite the same thing oh well okay then, it’s in your head and the matchbox that’s not in your head yes you are right I will do it then solution 2 but you must know the horror ah yes the horror and thus the fault displaced the fault mine originally but given will become your fault as a consequence and worse still since not yet given since not mandatory since there is choice since there exists another solution solution 4 as you call it known as eating your cake and having it too but I understand that you rule it out yes I understand the cage and all that yes I understand and the fault is mine thus solution 2 as you call it since not number 3 as you call it since all alone I couldn’t all alone it will also be that so from the moment that you rule out number 4 known as eating your cake and having it too as you call it it will be that the garbage can love in the garbage can blood everywhere but I will do it and I won’t blame you darling there will be no fault on you darling you just have to be sure, sure of the locked room and the key thrown down the sewer, sure of the rats in a cage and I know the quotation, sure also that something will be worse than nothing, sure of all that since if you are sure then it will be that the vacuum cleaner darling and our love in the garbage can darling and me your love on all fours in the blood trying to put back my love darling in a matchbox in me darling in my empty body so you have to be sure, sure of your call, if you aren’t there remains solution 4 known as eating your cake and having it too as you call it.