The Other Shore (36 page)

Shadow or not, she’s got to be a woman.

Just a ghost.

Interesting, a daytime ghost. Did she rise from the dead at night?

She’d be even more fearful at night.

Was the night fearful or was it just your own fear of the night?

Nobody could have resurrected her anyway.

Did you try? There’s no harm in talking about it if nobody’s going to get hurt.

You’re the writer, aren’t you? Try to think and imagine it for yourself.

It’s just that the images of my imagination have become feelings. If it were the other way around, then maybe the ghost could be resurrected.

So what? She couldn’t be anything more than one of the living dead.

It remains to be proven.

Just leave her alone.

Just trying to see if she would respond.

She’s poison, better leave her alone.

Bernard

You must prove that you haven’t grown old, you don’t want to admit that death is creeping up to you step by step.

You have to scream once more, feel once more, and then scream yet one more time, you’re not going to allow them to close that dark and secret door behind you once and forever.

You want—you want to exert the strength left in your already weakened body to do battle once more, to struggle once more, and to…

You want—you’ve already got all you wanted. When you were young, you wanted to have your own car and speed away. Later you wanted to have a huge and classy studio, and now you’ve got a big farm.

You want to have fame, not power. You oppose every kind of authority, all power suffocates you. You tried rebellion and you succeeded, and now those not-worth-a-fart juvenile urchins are telling the world that you’re already
passé
, but you don’t need to chase after their passing fancies, because you know that their fads will cease to be even before you die.

You don’t need more money, you’re not that greedy, you’ve already got everything you wanted, and that’s enough for you. In that case, what is it that you actually want?

You can’t bear to say it, you can’t say it right out that you crave immortality! Sooner or later your overtaxed body will be consumed, burned out. As for posthumous fame, only Heaven will know. For the time being, you’re using up all your energy, the little energy that’s left in you, to battle against death. It’s a futile struggle, death is waiting quietly by the dark and secret door—

Anne, Daniel

Don’t come over here!

What if he does?

Are you crazy?

He’s as sane as ever.

Then stay where you are.

Just stand here and do nothing?

Keep talking, go on!

About what?

Anything, whatever you want to say, for example, fantasize—

For instance, a little indulgence—

How?

All women know how.

And men don’t?

Men are more direct.

And they don’t fantasize?

How?

For example, try fantasizing nakedness, a naked desire…(
softly, and then retreats.
)

But you need feelings to fantasize.

What’s wrong with your eyes?

In the arms of a stranger?

No, in a strange place.

Like a trained and obedient animal.

No, rather like a wounded animal,

And then it starts moaning?

It’s not making any noise, it’s only licking its wounds. (
Retreats further, smiles and disappears behind the door.
)

Quartet No. 3

Anne

This dress suits you very well, don’t you think? Walk around, that’s right, do your stuff and show off that figure of yours! Pull up your skirt, show your legs, good. Show your tits, a bit more…that’s too much…that’s it! Just like a little tart, not the slightest bit of shame, and no hang-ups whatsoever! See that casual look on her face? It’s a real killer. Come on, walk around, move your bum, just like in a fashion show…turn around, do it again, you’ve got to turn smoothly, haven’t you tried modelling before? Don’t laugh! That’s right, show your teeth, you little bitch. Good, lean on the door, no wonder men all have the hots for you. Watch it, someday you’ll get sick and tired of all of these, you’ll feel so tired, would you believe that? Your heart will die all of a sudden, leaving only a body which can’t feel any longer. This is not to scare you, what else is there when you’ve wasted your youth? Nothing lasts forever, except for a tiny bit of memory, like a book which has been read or a story made up by other people, it’s worse than a patch of emptiness in the dark. You don’t understand, at your age you can’t possibly understand. All right, go!

Cecile

I have nothing, I’m a bit sad.

I still have a pair of tits, they’re so firm.

My lips are pouted, like a small animal looking for things to eat.

I also have a pair of nice round legs, every woman has them.

And I have a figure which is every woman’s envy, all my measurements are just right.

I have no fears, in the past I was afraid, but I’m no longer afraid now.

I have no father, I was brought up by my mother.

I don’t go around picking up men, I did, but not any more,

No, I drool all over them now, I didn’t do that before, men like to hear this sort of things, don’t they?

What more should I say? Oh yes, I also want to write a little something…

I don’t write poetry, I just want to write songs, rock and roll or jazz, or stuff like that.

I play the music myself while I sing, but my voice is not good enough, and I’ve got no money to take lessons.

I want to find a rich man, a roof over my head, free rent.

I also want to have a garden, I’ll just lie there on the grass soaking up the sun, doing nothing.

Look at the clouds in the sky, gosh, even the clouds are polluted.

It’s just some empty talk which nobody understands, like trying to chat with men about art.

Daniel

You are not sure

　if it’s to pursue excitement

　　Or it’s to prove

　　　you’re as frivolous

　　　　Or you just want to see

　　　　　what’s going to happen?

Anne

She buries herself under a thick layer of make-up, only she herself knows,

Her face, her look, it’s all fake from her eyelashes to her lips.

Cecile

She’s a sinking ship, an overripe apple, a song sung too many times.

She hops left and right, she breaks out into laughter for no reason, she only wants to turn people on.

Bernard

You go up the stairs and others come down, it wouldn’t be too bad if there’s a heaven above and a hell down below, you’re only afraid that there’s absolutely nothing, a big mass of nothingness.

Anne

She’s a dead fish, stiff, cold and smooth as glass,

A staring round eye on each side, sparkling but unable to see anything.

Cecile

She’s an open book, you can read it whenever you want to.

She’s a deep and shadowy abyss, it swallows herself up.

Daniel

You want to have a woman

　and a woman comes

You thought she’d be pretty

　and she’s whorish

You thought she’d be glamorous

　and she’s frivolous

If you have anything to say

　say it

If you have nothing to say

　feed them a load of boloney

Anne

She’s not a fast food dish ready to be consumed,

Once the buttons are undone, you know how it’ll all end.

It’s all in the game,

There are no miracles.

Bernard

What’s happening? Your eyes are too old to see, they’re old, unquestionably old! Old age spares nobody, how can you hold it off? You’ve put up a struggle for nothing.

Cecile

In your eyes she’s a little whore. Okay, she’s an out and out whore, so what? She hates all of you from inside her heart. But when she’s making love, she uses every part of her body, the upper and lower parts, you name it. What more have you got to say?

Bernard

“The partridge stays not for long.” Whose poem is it? To hell with it, your memory is deteriorating. The books you’ve read, the titles and authors have all become a muddle. The ultimate goal of life—can’t remember who said it, the essence of life, only a bit of scum is left.

Cecile

But she’s not going to die with you,

It’s your own business to die.

Anne

A footprint, over another footprint, is still just a footprint. (
Lowers her head.
)

A footprint, over yet another footprint, leaves only a footprint. (
Lifts her head.
)

When you walk over one footprint after another, you’ll become…(
Laughs.
)

Daniel, Anne

A witch?

Might as well say a spirit.

Don’t go!

What for? To watch you smoking a cigarette?

It wouldn’t hurt just to chat.

But you’ve got to have something to chat about.

Of course. How about dreams?

But you’ve got to have the dreams first.

Anyway, it seems…And there’s also this tiny secret light, it’s not really hope…

Why did you stop?

Daniel

All is enveloped in obscurity. In the fuzziness, one could barely see. Among strand after strand of hazy lights, a dead city stands in a bottomless abyss, nestled in block after block of bare and desolate mountains. He looks up from below. It’s like wandering at night, and the city itself looks like it’s drifting and wandering from the top of the mountains. It’s all very clear: the temple, the bell tower, the pavilions, the mansions, and the crisscrossing streets and alleys, except for the square, the road surfaces and the lower halves of the buildings, which remain invisible…

Anne (
Softly.
)

Go on.

Daniel

The low and level clouds are airy and effervescent, they shape themselves into a thin, even layer and drift along at a certain altitude increasing in speed, these are all below him. He seems to be riding on the top of a mountain, his hands have to hold on to a crag so that he will not slide downhill, not far away is the abyss, and he can’t help being scared. Drifting with the mountain gives him pleasure, but nevertheless he can’t help being a bit apprehensive.

Anne (
Closes her eyes.
)

She feels it too…

Daniel

He knows that he is looking at a forgotten ghost town, he is stunned by its exquisite planning, he strains his eyes to see it more clearly in the haze, to commit it to his memory, but the buildings and their orderly layouts are too intricate for him to comprehend in such a short time. He wants to identify a pattern so that at least he would have a general idea of the layout, but everything is drifting, the low clouds, the city, and the mountain he is riding on are all revolving at the same speed but in different directions. This stunning scene is accompanied by absolute quietude. There is not a single shred of light, but the outlines are so clear, so well-defined to the smallest details. This city of huge and crowded buildings is entirely constructed of wood, it gives out the unadulterated greyish black colour of lumber, the doors and windows are all shut tight.

Anne

She says she can see it all…

Daniel

In these blocks of buildings and their innumerable rooms, there are many, many people, eating, drinking, loving, lusting, again and again, and again and again, repeatedly and re-repeatedly, they’re struggling, troubled and anxious to the point of rendering their lives meaningless, then all of a sudden they die off, unknown to the world. This is becoming somewhat scary, so scary that he feels cold all over, and yet he still can’t stop himself from drifting away, any time now he could stumble and plunge into the dark abyss under his feet. He is drifting, he has become weightless, but his eyes are still staring and watching, he feels dizzy looking down from above, and he is attracted by the pitch black abyss, he can’t help leaning forward. He tries his best to ward off the temptation to plunge down, keeping his eyes away from the darkness under his feet as much as possible. When he looks to the front, he can still see the ghost town standing erect on top of the abyss on his left side. The mountain he is riding on is like an elephant, or any huge animal, it’s squirming up and down as if it’s going to lose control, he quickly closes his eyes.

Anne

And then?

Daniel

And then he wakes up, it was only a dream, it only lasted an instant, and only in dreams could one see a miracle like this one, he wishes that it could have lasted for a while longer, so that he could remember it more clearly. He is holding his breath, and he manages to hang on to a shred of its past self, but eventually he’s unable to prevent it from disappearing altogether. He is quite moved, as if it’s some kind of apocalypse, yet he feels like he has lost something. At the time he knows there are things he can do, and there are things he can’t. But what is it that he could have done? He doesn’t have the answer any more.

Anne

Then don’t talk about it.

Bernard

Gosh! My foot is busted! This foot, it doesn’t listen to your commands. Oh, a wooden leg! Only devils have hoofs, and you’re not a devil. But there’s a devil in every man’s heart, the question is whether or not it’s set free, if it got out, you’d be the happy one, though other people would have to suffer for your happiness. You have sinned deeply, you should have left that young girl alone, but how would you know if she’s a little dove or a little whore if you haven’t tried?

One foot is light, and the other one heavy, it’s like riding on the clouds—(
Bang!
)

Anne, Daniel

He’s calling me! (
Wind blows.
)

No, it’s the wind.