The Brooke-Rose Omnibus (56 page)

The black arrow on the left inside the disc points up, the red arrow points down. The grey-lined bus full of structural imaginations nevertheless swings out to pass the lorry with TIR on its bottom and
over the blue number-plate E plus six figures in white stretching interminably with
Transport
International of something past already as the bus cuts in quickly aslant the eyes of a black car ahead switched on in anger unless perhaps alarm. Sometimes however the number of the key drops down from 412 to two times two equals four times two equals eight times two equals sixteen ad infinitum which makes one very sad. Away from the road a path leads into a deep cleft between the two masses of the Phaidriades where lies the famous Kastalia spring. The visitor’s attention turns immediately to the sanctuary of Apollo situated on the higher slopes in five terrace-like levels. The visitor’s attention turns immediately to the androgynous goddess.

For let me make it quite clear, the myth of the androgynous divinity, present everywhere, does not until the later cults of the masculine god, express the idea of the Father
transcendent
but rather that of the feminoid Son. Most lunar and vegetation divinities have a double sexuality, Artemis, Attis, Adonis, Dionysos, even Adam and his rib, not to mention australian, Chinese, indian and nordic divinities. Hence the curious bearded goddesses which pass through the neutralised transmitter in the brain in French and out into the
mouthpiece
in simultaneous German. Or through the younger carelessly poised transmitter between the long lank hair and un amour de soutien-gorge qui pigeonne all channels alert with ease and out in simultaneous English. Hence the
invocation
of Sin, the babylonian lunar god as both matrix and merciful Father, principle of harmonious reunion hence ritual castration breast ablation hence the mythical origin of the Amazons hence into the mouthpiece in and out, in and out, slowly and round the eternal cycle of l’ourobouros, the snake eating its own tail indefinitely, not merely as a ring of flesh but expressing the material dialectic of death and life, life and death, death out of life, life out of death in an endless inversion echoing the agro-lunar drama of months and seasons, the sacrificial substitution permitting, through repetition, the exchange of past for future and the domestication of Chronos. Did you want it for eating love? Leider haben wir keine.

Between existing as a woman and working as a man in charge of the young a different species altogether, eyes closed, watching the words as they pass through the neutralised transmitter in the brain and hence, in and out steadily and round the eternal cycle sits an androgynous douce inoubliable dame desolate at the death of hope faith charity to any rib torn from her chest any small foreign body out of entrails for the forming of a language that actually means something in the light of that death. Or else inside the whale who knows for we must surely acknowledge that these vital lies have more energy than so many of the fragile truths that surround us in this supposedly rationalistic age so dominated by
masculine
upward myths, and that the essential truth of these Lebenslügen reintegrates us in totality by virtue of an onto logical recognition present in all of us. Can we call mensonge un mensonge qui a tant de vitalité?

The broad white arrow crosses the blue disc diagonally. The arrow changes into a black band diagonal across the disk. On the left of the broad yellow arrow that points down from corner to corner of the square card the razor-blade, printed in green, has a white narrow slit dented with short vertical bars and two small circles on either side of the diamond-shape in the centre. On the other side two pink lips slightly separated echo the white and dented slit in the green razor-blade. Pour le démaquillage et pour le rasoir. Sometimes German comes first then English then French with the language of the country Rumanian Russian Greek always first however such as Toaleta unless TOAΛETHA or even TOYAΛETTA with care not to enter Bărbaţi when the door bears no skirted figurine or high-heeled shoe in the mere smattering acquired with Acqua Minerale battericamente pura that cleanses ancient matter as it passes through the body because naturellement nous pouvons considérer toute alimentation comme transsubstantiation. Boiled rice, du lieber Gott. Couldn’t you save in other ways than lining your stomach with a great hole of emptiness, for example the gulliverisation of St. Nicholas with his sack, a close parallel to St. Christopher and the good giants out of the man-eating monsters and the god-eating Titans. Witness the ships in
nutshells
, bottles, boxes within boxes, tabernacles in temples und so weiter weiter gehen through the indiscrimination of the mouthpiece at nineteen or forty-seven even.

The disc encloses three curved black arrows forming a circle anti-clockwise au schème de l’ourobouros, the snake eating its own tail indefinitely, not merely as a ring of flesh but as the material dialectic of death and life, death out of life, life out of death in an endless inversion echoing the agro-lunar dramma dell’ agnosticismo con tutti gli ingredienti storici filosofici e sociali determinanti la involuzione in atto nella nostra civiltà. The English they applause their speakers. The Gairmans they applause their speakers in le mensonge vital which sits back desolate at the catastrophe it has
provoked
. And the Japanese, don’t forget the Japanese. They praise, yes mademoiselle, also. Presumably everyone comes for that. They certainly don’t come for information.
Information
? My dear good girl und so weiter and each speaker waits impatiently for his turn, each more concerned with output than intake. Ah, output, intake, god, verr god, mademoiselle. My card Bertrand de Born dont le coeur tremble de fol espoir. Where when and with what araignée du soir? How long have you stayed away, lost touch and more than the five senses out of this zone or that not applying il numero di codice lying under layers and layers of vital lies through mulieris simulationis and a shaking of the head nai for yes or a vigorous nodding ohi or yok for no sub specie aeternitatis unlike this our masculine-dominated civilisation turned upside down.

Sometimes however the number of the long-lost code falls from 412 to two times two equals four times two equals eight times two equals sixteen ad infinitum which makes one very desperate. Sometimes the bathroom mirror lights up in
neondaylight
making a desiccated skeletal alleinstehende Frau of what thirty-nine, forty-six, unless in a rosy glow of the
renovating
present the reflection staring up at the reflection of the invisible man behind the reflection and back at the reflection looks about Herr Oberstleutnant at that age one has no loyalties. The glint of a hint of tinted hair shines golden in the rosy glow falling over the shoulders along the silver chain that carries the man-eating giant and passer of souls in a
characteristic
double-negation between the bare breasts fairly firm as yet only to see and touch a little under the cherry-tree.

The rosy glow spreads to the tap-end of the pink bath encased in black tiling. The left-hand tap has C for cold, no caldo of course natürlich and inside the pink bathtub lies a huge great SCREAM run door room bed bell push sob
stuff-sheet
-in-mouth sob cold sweat silence. Bell, push. Knock on door cover yourself entrez. Che desidera, signora?

— Bagno!

— Ma—

— Nel bagno. Una, una, une araignée.

— Signora?

— Insetto. Enorme.

— Ah. Un momento signora.

He vanishes between the built-in cupboard painted pink and the pink black-tiled bathroom where the water
caldo-freddo
runs for a momento! No, no, no-con-acqua si, tutto va bene signora, solamente un piccolo ragno ah, signora che bella!

The blue peignoir snatched from the chair in the rush to the noise of caldo-freddo has one sleeve inside out. Ma che pallida, signora. Non fa niente, buono, buono, mangia le mosche. Solamente un piccolo with insolent eyes and a great tenderness only to see and touch a little in the narrow passage between the built-in cupboard painted pink and the rosy glow of the situation so characteristic in this our
masculine-dominated
myth unmarked save by subtraction from the feminine with its ambivalence in the double-negation no e no.

Structures of power, even when they appear to depend on physical force, in fact depend on the assistance and cooperation of innumerable individuals for the administration of physical force. Mesdames messieurs, nous avons entendu déjà several of our many specialists in the theory of
government
, in civilian defence, in the strategy of non-violence, discussing this theme, and trying to establish—in principle at least—to what extent anyone, or any idea, can persuade those who oppose a power-structure based on physical force to refuse their assistance and co-operation. In other words can non-violence force the conqueror down into the earphones in French and out into the mouthpiece in simultaneous German. I have pleasure in calling upon Monsieur le professeur Bernard Mottin, directeur de l’Institut d’Etudes Civiles et président du Congrès, notre admirable hôte dans cette belle et ancienne ville de Strasbourg.

The brief applause of the delegates in the big hall cracks the eardrums through the earphones which have to be stretched outwards from the ears for a moment while the professeur climbs to the dais-table until the murmuring voices picked up by the microphone resolves itself into Mesdames messieurs and pause. Nous avons entendu ce matin une belle fiction. Le professeur Strauss—don’t j’admire profondément les études—has elevated our hopes with ideas which, however idealistic and indeed true in theory, bear little relation to grim reality. The fruits of conquest, he told us, depend on affirmative action by large numbers of people, hundreds and even thousands. Yet force, he told us, cannot obtain this affirmative action directly. And the professor exemplified with a vivid comparison from the animal kingdom: you can drag a horse to water, but only the horse can make his muscles work. And if he won’t drink, soon you will have no horse. We can imagine, the professor said—and indeed we have to—a militarily defenceless people completely confounding a conqueror or even a would-be conqueror—dissuading him in advance—by sitting quietly, not eating, not working, threatening to deprive him of any subjects simply by dying. He can let them die, he can even kill them. But he cannot exploit them.

Now ladies and gentlemen, this undeniable principle
remains
a principle, optimistic in its ultimate ends, cruel in its application, and totally at odds with any real situation in the world past or present. We have no evidence whatsoever that live human beings, let alone horses, can so embody this principle in any behaviour sufficiently organized as to disarm a tyrant of his bureaucrats and soldiers, even less to dissuade him in advance. Human beings need to eat, to work, and to this end will either knuckle under or, more often, persuade themselves that le mensonge vital die Lebenslüge contains sufficient double-negation to reintegrate him into totality compared with so many fragile truths and lost mysteries that surround us in this our masculine-dominated civilization turned upside down into the earphones and out into the mouthpiece with a gulliverisation typical of the giant myths euphemised into a sack, a basket, a container cavern womb belly vase vehicle ship temple sepulchre or holy grail, witness le complexe de Jonas with which the lost vitality of the word goes down into the mouthpiece and out through its exits and entrances in simultaneous German to the legendary sound of music or circular dance, creating an invisible magic wall of defence undone by Achilles when he dragged Hector’s body round it anticlockwise. Non si ricorda esattamente for a fire destroyed Troy VI in 900 B.C. B.C.? Oh yes. The cloud has cleared into a fond old man well sixty-two and plus flowery love-letters full of Provençal quotations about fin amor lonhtano and all that.

E allora the languages fraternise in Geneva where
malnutrition
occurs in Europe on a far larger scale than anyone has realised owing to the widespread devitalising of foods due to mass-processing, chemical fertilisers, sprays and additives as well as ignorance of diet with 48% having an average intake of nutrients well below the minimum level, itself varying from 30 mg. of vitamins daily recommended by the British Medical Association in England to 70 mg.
recommended
by the American Medical Association and 200 mg. by the Russian. The doctor on the dais protests at carbohydrates refined sugar white flour and fluoridation of water forbidden in Scandinavia and all civilised lands of which the World Health Association should take note while others in Paris home at last speak of the spiral as a sort of stylised maze, the maze itself having originated in the
underground
passages of the cave-dwellers which always led to a sanctus sanctorum, in a chthonic religion of course, going down, whereas the spiral tower of the Sumerian ziggurat belonged to a lunar culture. The ziggurat idea lies behind that of the seven-terraced city of Ekbatana and the Tower of Babel. Mesdames messieurs, you must surely know already—and if you do not I recommend you to see—Breughel’s painting of the Tower of Babel in which the letter from Venice reads Enfin! O gentildonna, douce dame aux yeux de vair! Votre merveilleuse lettre m’a rendu fou de joie. Which folie de joie goes into rhapsodies at length quite disproportionate to the brief polite note of thanks for compliments the speaker n’a pas conscience de mériter and totally at odds with any real situation in the prodigious accents of the renovating present. We have no evidence that human beings, let alone horses, can so embody the divine principle descending into any behaviour sufficiently organised to disarm a gentildonna of her furry eyes, vital double-negation simulation and other frustrations to the true end of marriage so typical in this our masculine-dominated myth turned upside down, in, out, around with a dumb show unanswered at one level and at another higher lower responded to perhaps with yearning for romance or lust atingle in the loins unless despair in knowledge of the man, exasperation cold indifference to the language of the long-lost code lying beneath layers and layers of changing sensibilities which nevertheless winds its way up surreptitiously through the centuries to undo the magic wall of defence around no more than the distant brain way up with an idle thought or two such as well, why not play a little at a mere correspondence of love six love, la gentildonna leads by five games to three in the second set.