Impressions of Africa (French Literature Series) (28 page)

I
T WAS DURING THESE
events that Seil-kor reappeared at the head of his band of black porters, who were buckling under the weight of copious goods bought with the ransom money. Each contributor had paid to the best of his means, and the families of the poorest sailors, pooling their savings, had resigned themselves to adding their share as a group.

After a long conference with the emperor, Seil-kor came to deliver the news. The letters we’d drafted had returned a sufficient sum, and on that score our freedom was guaranteed. But one unexpected condition remained to be fulfilled.

Ever since the bloody battle against the Drelchkaffian troops, Talou, seeking solitude beneath the tall trees of the Behuliphruen, had spent many hours composing a number of resounding stanzas which, taking as their subject the victory over Yaour, were to enrich the “Jeroukka” with a supplementary canto entitled “The Battle of the Tez.”

Upon his coronation, the emperor would have his troops sing the entire epic; but the new canto, which he’d finished only that morning, was still unfamiliar to the Negro warriors, and long hours of study would be needed to teach it to so large a group.

Consequently, Talou assigned Carmichael the task of performing on the appointed day, in his resplendent falsetto, the most recent portion of the opus. Such a choice would have the further advantage of highlighting the unknown stanzas of the vast poem and underscoring this
premiere
, making it truly sensational.

To sing “The Battle of the Tez,” the young Marseillais would wear his normal male garb, for Talou wished to be crowned king of Drelchkaff in the same costume he’d worn on the day of his victory, a striking outfit whose shape struck him as particularly majestic. The emperor, moreover, intended to figure in the program himself by singing Dariccelli’s
Aubade
.

His explanation finished, Seil-kor handed Carmichael a large sheet of paper that he’d covered with strange but perfectly legible words, their perilous pronunciation faithfully indicated in French characters; it was “The Battle of the Tez,” transcribed only moments before by the young Negro under the emperor’s dictation.

The tune was supplied by a single, brief aria, which Seil-kor easily taught Carmichael.

Counting on fear to obtain a perfect rendition, Talou threatened that the slightest lapse in memory would be punished by three long hours of detention. During that time, Carmichael would practice the canto for a new recital subject to the same conditions, while standing perfectly still and facing the sycamores of Trophy Square under a Negro guard’s strict surveillance.

Having obtained the young singer’s reluctant consent, Seil-kor, still relaying Talou’s mandate, demanded from us some simple advice on the role that Sirdah’s thirty-six brothers might play in the coronation ceremony.

It seemed to us that children of that age, all designated as pages, could add to the picturesqueness of the scene by carrying the long train of their father’s gown at the moment when the latter strode majestically toward the altar. But only six at most could fit around the long hem, and so it was necessary to draw lots. Chènevillot therefore agreed to fashion a large gaming die that would serve to elect the winners from among the boys, split into six rows.

As for the emperor’s ten wives, they were to perform the Luenn’chetuz, a hieratic dance intimately linked with certain rare and notable rites.

To finish, Seil-kor showed us a long strip of tightly rolled parchment, covered with Talou’s rudimentary drawings of warring forces.

During his campaigns, the emperor took daily notes using only images instead of words, setting down in sketches, while his memory was still fresh and precise, the various operations his troops had accomplished.

Once back in the capital, he used this strategic guide to compose his verses; in short, we had before our eyes the true canvas of the “Jeroukka.”

Having discovered in our baggage a recording barometer whose workings he’d had explained to him, Talou dreamed of seeing his drawings parade by automatically on the spindles of the precious instrument.

La Billaudière-Maisonnial, accustomed to delicate work, volunteered to fulfill the imperial desire; he removed the fragile mechanism from the barometer casing and accelerated its movement, and soon an ingenious device, carrying the roll of parchment, was set to work near the Incomparables’ stage.

S
EVERAL MORE DAYS PASSED
, during which Carmichael learned to parrot the barbaric text of “The Battle of the Tez.” Guided by Seil-kor, he had easily retained the strange tune adapted to the stanzas and felt confident that he was up to the task of singing this new fragment of the “Jeroukka.”

At the Stock Exchange,
the Carmichael
had not stopped climbing in value ever since a Ponukelean song, with its prodigiously bizarre words and music, had replaced the young Marseillais’s standard repertoire.

As the great day approached, the speculations picked up momentum, and a final session, which promised to be intense, was scheduled for just before the start of the performances.

Eager to contribute to the magnificence of the gala by weaving the emperor a rich sacramental cloak, Bedu assembled his famous loom, which had suffered no damage in the shipwreck, astride the Tez.

He drew up a map of Africa surrounded by a vast area of ocean and marked all the territories now under Talou’s scepter in glaring red.

The fact that the southern border of Drelchkaff was not clearly defined left the artist free license, and out of flattery he extended the kingdom all the way to the Cape of Good Hope, whose name he spelled out in capitals.

Once the paddles were adjusted, the machine was set in motion, and soon a heavy ceremonial garment was ready to be placed over the sovereign’s shoulders at the solemn moment.

Encouraged by this success, Bedu decided to prepare a surprise for Sirdah, who had always shown us such kindness and devotion.

He designed a sumptuous pattern for a cape, to be decorated with many arresting scenes from the biblical Flood.

The inventor intended to fine-tune the device on the very morning of the coronation and have it operate in Sirdah’s presence, for after her cure the girl would surely enjoy watching the vision provided by the magical workings of the miraculous machine.

As Bashkou’s operation was to take place at nightfall, an acetylene beacon, found among the
Lynceus
’s gear and installed at water’s edge, would project onto the machine the dazzling beams emitted by its reflector.

To enhance the portion of the spectacle involving the river, Fluxier decided to create several blue lozenges, which, when tossed into the currents, would create a variety of distinct and fleeting images on the water’s surface.

Before setting to work, he consulted us collectively on the choice of subjects to treat and received a plethora of suggestions, from which he retained only the following:

1. Perseus brandishing the head of Medusa.

2. A Spanish feast accompanied by frenetic dancing.

3. The legend of the poet Giapalù, who, having come to seek inspiration at the picturesque site where the Var sprang from the ground, let his secrets be discovered by the old river, leaning forward in curiosity to read over his shoulder. The next day, the babbling currents recited his new verses from the source all the way to the river’s mouth; bearing the stamp of genius, they immediately spread throughout the land unattributed. The dumbfounded Giapalù tried in vain to establish his authorship but was treated as a fraud, and the poor poet died of grief without ever having known fame.

4. A peculiarity of the Land of Cockaigne concerning the regularity of the wind, which provided inhabitants with the exact time without having to wind up or maintain a clock.

5. A piquant tale involving the Prince of Conti, which he himself had discreetly related in his correspondence:

In the spring of 1695, François-Louis de Bourbon, the Prince of Conti, was the guest of an octogenarian, the Marquis of ***, whose château stood in the middle of a vast, shaded park.

The previous year, the marquis had married a young woman of whom he was keenly jealous, even though the love he showed her was purely paternal.

Every night, the Prince of Conti went to join the marquise, whose twenty years could not make do with such incessant solitude.

These visits required infinite precautions. To contrive a pretext for his sudden absence in case of discovery, the prince let loose in the park, before each rendezvous, a certain trained jay, which had long been used to accompanying him on all his travels. One night, having grown suspicious, the marquis went to knock on the door of his guest’s chamber; obtaining no reply, he entered the empty room and saw the missing man’s clothes lying on a chest.

The octogenarian went straight to his wife’s room and demanded she let him in immediately. The marquise silently opened and closed her window, allowing her lover to let himself drop gently to the ground. This maneuver having taken but a few seconds, the bolt of her door could be pulled back in time.

The jealous old man barged in without a word and vainly checked every corner of the room. After which, the possibility of escape through the window having occurred to him, he stalked out of the château and began hunting through the park.

Soon he discovered the half-dressed Conti, who said he was searching for his escaped jay.

The marquis decided to accompany his guest to see if he was telling the truth. After several steps, the prince cried, “There he is!”—pointing at the trained bird sitting on a branch, who at the first call came to perch on his finger.

The old man’s doubts were immediately allayed, and the marquise’s honor remained intact.

Armed with these five subjects, Fuxier applied to his block of blue material the meticulous process he’d already completed for the internal modeling of the red lozenges used in the Shakespearean scene.

O
NE MORNING, SEIL-KOR’S DEVOTION
to the emperor nearly proved fatal. At around ten o’clock, the young man was carried to Trophy Square, covered in blood, and put in the care of Dr. Leflaive.

His injury had been caused by a sudden and unexpected event.

Just minutes earlier, the traitor Gaiz-duh had managed to escape. Seil-kor, witnessing this bold move, had run after the fugitive, whom he’d soon caught and seized by the left arm.

Gaiz-duh, whose right hand clasped a knife, had twisted around in fury and struck Seil-kor in the head; the slight delay caused by this brief struggle had given the guards time to secure the prisoner and bring back the wounded man.

Dr. Leflaive bandaged the wound and promised to save the patient’s life.

By the next day, he was out of mortal danger, but soon began showing signs of mental disturbance owing to a serious lesion in the brain. Indeed, Seil-kor had lost his memory and could not recognize anyone’s face.

Darriand, visiting the patient, saw a marvelous opportunity to effect a miracle using his hypnotic plants. Possessing several rolls of blank celluloid, he asked Bedu to paint on one of those long, supple, transparent strips a certain number of scenes taken from the period of Seil-kor’s life he recalled most vividly.

The idyll with Nina was the clear choice. Transported back to his time with his soulmate, whom he’d believe truly present before his eyes, the young Negro might experience a salutary emotion liable to restore his faculties in a single stroke.

Among the relics preserved by the poor lunatic, they found a large photograph of Nina in frontal view, which provided Bedu with precious details.

Having finished the preparation of his lozenges, Fuxier, yielding to our entreaties, gladly agreed to complete his series of experiments by ripening a cluster of grapes, each of which would contain a different subject.

We cast about for new inspirations. Free to set the size of the bunch as he wished, Fuxier fixed the number of grapes at ten and chose the following themes:

1. A glimpse of Celtic Gaul.

2. The famous vision of Count Valtguire, who in a dream saw a demon sawing at the body of his mortal enemy, Eudes, son of Robert the Strong. Encouraged by this sign, which seemed to promise him the support of Heaven by dooming his adversary to death and damnation, Valtguire, throwing caution to the winds, redoubled the intensity of the bloody battle he was waging against Eudes and his partisans. This rashness proved fatal and led to his capture followed by immediate beheading.

3. An evocation of ancient Rome in the time of its greatest splendor, symbolized by the games of the Circus.

4. Napoleon, victorious in Spain, but cursed by a populace seething with revolt.

5. A gospel of Saint Luke relating three miracles performed by Jesus on the children of the Guedaliels, whose humble hut, illuminated by the presence of the divine Master, was suddenly filled with joyous echoes after having witnessed the bitterest grief. Two days before the celestial visit, the oldest child, a boy of fifteen, pale and weak, had suddenly succumbed while plying his trade as a basket weaver. Stretched out on his pallet, he still held in his fingers the long wicker strand he’d been braiding at the fatal instant. Of the two sisters the deceased had cherished, the first had fallen mute from her distress at the sight of the corpse, while the youngest, a poor invalid, ugly and hunchbacked, was no consolation to her parents for their dual misfortune. Upon entering, Jesus stretched his hand toward the comely aphonic, who, the moment she was cured, sang a long, full-throated trill that seemed to announce the return of joy and hope. A second gesture of the all-powerful hand, this time directed toward the deathbed, restored life to the dead boy, who, taking up his interrupted task, bent and knotted in his practiced fingers the supple and docile wicker strand. At the same moment, a new miracle was revealed to the dazzled parents’ eyes: Jesus had just brushed his finger over the gentle invalid, now left beautiful and standing erect.

6. The Ballad of Hans the Robust, a legendary woodsman from the Black Forest, who despite his advanced age could carry more tree trunks and bundles on his shoulders than his six sons put together.

7. A passage from
Emile
, in which Jean-Jacques Rousseau lengthily describes the first stirrings of desire felt by his hero upon seeing a young stranger in a poppy-colored dress seated in her doorway.

8. A reproduction of Raphael’s painting
St. Michael Vanquishing Satan
.

Armed with these materials, Fuxier set to work, offering us the captivating sight of his weird and patient method.

Sitting before his vine-stock, he burrowed into the buds of the future cluster with the help of extremely fine steel instruments—the very same ones he’d used to fashion the interior of his lozenges.

Sometimes he pulled from a minuscule box various coloring agents that would infuse the figures as they developed.

For hours he pursued his miraculous labors, focusing exclusively on the precise spot from which the grapes would emerge, deprived in advance of their seeds by this terrible trituration.