The combinations, p.113

The Combinations, page 113

 

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  out the faces behind the windows on the viewing deck & the afternoon sunlight

  reflecting off the glass…

  They walked past the stalls selling hot wine & the giant chess pieces set

  out on cobblestoned black&white squares. Past the tower was Christ’s “tomb.”

  And past that, the cablecar terminus & a planetarium. Alice led him through the

  snow to peer inside at the firmament of nested spheres, the vast sidereal wheel,

  God’s eye onto the self-created universe. For no reason he could point a finger

  at, Němec felt disappointed.

  ‘It’s always sad looking at stars,’ Alice said, as if sensing his mood. ‘All

  those extinctions. It’s like the truth is always being kept from us. Look how pretty

  death is. All those beautiful lights. People forget that Heaven’s just a mortuary with

  all the candles left burning.’

  ‘Heaven’s just matter & entropy…’

  ‘…’

  ‘There was an ancient Chinese philosopher, Chun Tchi, believed the

  whole night sky’s invented.’

  ‘It’s the same thing,’ Alice said, taking his hand & leading him out past

  the maze of straggly boxhedges & a gate with a sign reading:

  HRY JSOU V BLUDIŠTI ZAKÁZÁNY*

  At the end of the path was a small baroque chapel with a paved courtyard in

  front of it. And across the courtyard, a House of Mirrors.

  ‘Let’s go in,’ Alice said.

  She let go of his hand & ran up to the ticket booth. Němec waited at the

  entrance. Just inside was a diorama in a glass box: “The Battle of Charles

  Bridge,” it said on a card pasted to the side. It depicted a skirmish between

  armed students & Königsmarck’s Swedes in the process of ransacking the City,

  in . The painted figures were entirely unconvincing — the students

  barricaded at one end, the bluecoated Prods at the other — the whole thing

  might just as easily’ve been made-up. Besides, what was it doing there at all?

  ‘Come on!’ Alice called, going in ahead of him.

  Half-reluctantly Němec followed. He heard Alice’s laughter somewhere

  * “Whatever you do, don’t feed sour cream to the bloody Minotaur.” [:]

  735

  on the other side of the glass wall. No sooner had he entered the maze than he

  lost all sense of direction. Everywhere he turned, he saw his idiot semblable

  knotted & stretched apart. Alice’s laughter drifted further away. He resisted the

  urge to call out. Eventually the laughter died entirely. Then there were footsteps.

  Children’s voices. Running. Giggling. He wandered around like that, blindly, till

  he found his way out again.

  Alice wasn’t there. Němec watched to see who came out behind him, but

  no-one did. There must’ve been some other exit — secret passages — a fourth

  dimension maybe. He parked on a bench in front of the chapel & waited. It was

  almost five o’clock. Someone had left a copy of the Golem City Tribune stuffed

  between the slats where he was sitting — he unfolded it, browsed the headlines

  unenthusiastically. Several times he caught sight of someone he thought was

  Alice, but was mistaken. People gathered outside the chapel for the service. A

  bell tolled. A group of kids kicked a ball back & forth in the slush.

  To pass the time, Němec took a pen out & began circling words here &

  there at random in the newspaper. It was something he’d learnt to do in the

  Home, like using a dousing rod to read between the lines in his schoolbooks for

  what they didn’t want anyone to see. He found it worked with pretty much

  anything. Secret ordinations of events. Trees hidden in the woods. Messages out

  of the ether. When that got boring he turned to the crossword puzzle.  down:

  “person so deficient in mind as to be permanently incapable of rational conduct,”

   letters.  across: “opening in wall, usually filled with glass,”  letters. 

  across: “chatterer,”  letters.*

  Mmm. Never was much good at that sort of thing.

  After a while of stabbing in the dark he’d had enough. Still no sign of

  Alice Steinerová. Chances were they’d never’ve made it through another night

  anyhow. Denying the obvious, or else unconsciously acceding to it, Němec

  stayed sitting where he was & played join-the-dots with the words he’d been

  circling earlier, making bits of phrases out of them — bringing the whole

  pointless exercise to a kind of occult fruition by copying the results into the

  margin of the puzzle section at the back, arranging & rearranging the lines till

  something that wasn’t complete gibberish came out of it. He’d successfully killed

  another hour by the time the last “t” was crossed, the last “i” dotted. What was

  left, traced beside the day’s Bumper Super Combo Crossword, was this:

  * � Intermission. [:]

  736

  It was late — the sky overwhelmed us, shapes

  & forces from invisible mind-rays. In the green

  orbit of thought, impulse, disintegration —

  removed from the five senses, is indeed the end.

  Clocks glow weirdly underwater — a depth —

  rewound: order, which appears / does not appear.

  River, cloud. Least careless, least logical.

  To see contumacious eggs hatching (if their white

  be skin enough) all in one piece. Switches & amulets.

  The ensuing of many arguments, sighing.

  She kisses you with transparent teeth — a kiss

  full of vertigo & premonition. Order being

  tied up backwards, forwards — liquid from mineral.

  But it was too late — the sky overwhelmed us.

  If it was a poem, he supposed it ought to have a title, like Poem or Sonnet, only it

  wasn’t a sonnet because, well, it just wasn’t. He thought about that national

  monument of a wanker, K.H. Mácha,* lying beneath a springtime bower just

  down the hill there, with one of his dozen regular Šomkomite floozies — flagon

  in hand, wafting on about LOVE in that dreary repetitive spät-Romantisch

  uppercase enunciation — & afterwards, confessing to his Secret Diary in

  excruciating religiotic detail, of the ones he’d played stinkfinger with & the ones

  he blushed to think about while having a quick J. Arthur behind the

  rhododendrons. And so, in honour of the Big Blouse’s noxious drivel, Němec

  took up his little ill-starred creation & scratched the letters “R-O-Z-E-R-V-A-

  N-E-C”* across the head of it, whispered a solemn curse, & gave it life.

  * Author of the only poem so far discovered to’ve been penned in the Chesk language, memorised

  by every schoolchild. [:]

  * “R.S.V.P.” [:]

  737

  53

  ___________

  THE EMPEROR’S NEW COCK

  No more will the scurvy Sphinx

  With beggy prophets their prophecies relate…*

  So after the old maestro, that rachitic degenerate Zhid,* fritzed it at fifty-one

  from a dose of bacterial endocarditis (“always an intruder, never welcomed”), his

  Freudful widow & career man-eater, Alma née Schindler, on her way to

  becoming a Gropius & thence a Werfel, took to bed with a twentytwo-year-old

  aspiring portraitist of sickly children, name of Oskar Kokoschka, in whom

  (though in no way unique in this respect) Misses M inspired a famously squalid

  amour fou.* Dear Darling Koko, overwrought, obsessive, ridiculous, all the things

  a young man of temperamental qualities becomes when he loses his grounding,

  gets himself into a wrong perspective, stuck in the ideoplastic quagmire trying to

  impress a woman almost twice his age. Cirrhosis of the Ψ-function. The story

  could be called Die Puppe. After beating the bedsprings flat for two successive

  winters & summers, the composer’s ex-concubine’d had enough of neurasthenic

  little Oskaroschka & moved-on to fry bigger fish, though not before informing

  the poor pup by post — C.O.D. to a Habsburg field hospital on the Isonzo

  Front, where cavalryman Karko lay terminally afflicted & certified non compos

  mentis. Kokoschka: in a fever of unrequite, many a restless a.m. spent

  thereafter, discombobulating over wishful imagined ghostkinder, little lifeless

  versions of his Oskar-self, viscerally aborted by this least likely paragon of ideal

  womanliness — Alma, loved, despised Alma. Come the Armistice, demobbed

  undead Kokoschka, wandering lonely as a clod, over hill & under hill, till at long

  last coming upon a Munich dollmaker willing (for a few shekels more) to

  faithfully fulfil a rather particular commission. To wit: a lifesize surrogate of the

  aggrieved artist’s Lost Liebling, precise to the last velvety anatomical detail. For

  * Amnesia in Memphis. G.C. [:]

  * Thanks to Max Burckhard for the kind words. [:]

  * “My neurosis does handstands, what’s yours do? Play all the Goldberg Variations simultaneously,

  blindfolded, while offering a King advantage? Pawn to Queen’s Gusset one?” [:]

  738

  six months did war-crippled Kokoschka cohabit with this permanently lubricated

  travesty — shrinkwrapped, perfumed, flossed, depilated, contactlensed,

  blowdried, bleached, siliconised, self-sanitising, universal adaptorised, prêt-à-

  porter & all modcons. A veritable pêche Melba. Till, one pre-incendiarised

  Dresden night, during a whorish boozeslopped orgy of impotence, he, Koko

  Loko: . came finally to his senses; . fell into a blind cathartic rage — & with

  one fell stroke beheaded that insatiable celluloid coquette with the clenched

  crook of his walkingstick.

  �

  V. Neuman & the Golem City Philharmonic (Supraphon): Mahler’s unfinished

  th — in hope, perhaps, of summoning ghosts. Some sort of ghost.

  Through the rooms of the empty apartment, the faint music crept as upon

  the waters. Roared & swished about. Raged. Blew. Petered out. The

  recordplayer thutted. Němec got up off the bed, weaved through brainfog,

  shakily swapped discs. The Rückert-Lieder (Deutsche Grammophon). Ich bin

  der Welt abhanden gekommen. A voice that long after all else has passed, etc., if

  there be a twittering machine to mouth it. And what would Kepler have made of

  this child’s toy, stylus in a windmill, spiralling orrerie? Or of the craven

  Kapellmeister, for that matter? Herrgott himself. Proteus of the Winds or

  flatulent Laocoön? Mistral or minstrel? And that Schlampefrau of his! Talk

  about a grey mare. Well… She could nourish a grudge like the best of them.

  What comes of winding a woman the wrong way, paying through the nose for a

  piece of patented posterity.*

  From the street below, headlights turned shadows across the ceiling.

  Disarticulated zodiacs formed & deformed. Naked bodies, anagrammatised,

  wound with gut-string, flesh bulging between the knots. What kismets of doom

  were being undressed up there on the Big Screen? What eructed abysms? Němec

  closed his eyes, but it did no good. Behind every thought she was waiting, blue-

  eyed, Alice Steinerová. Evocations as puerile as Kokoschka’s lovedoll. Well you’d

  be bound to develop a unique way of seeing things after a while in that kind of

  arrangement, wouldn’t you? Němec forced his mind to go blank, waiting for the

  record to end. The shadows danced. The stars in their fixed firmament. Her

  * When it came to just deserts, aggrievèd Alma could sure strike a bargain below the belt. [:]

  739

  body. Alice in the house of mirrors… What’s gone’s gone, kiddo, the great skidoo!

  Inquiring minds did however wonder. As for example, precisely how

  Mahler’s ex-Muse inspired such gargantuan efforts of the phantasmic faculty.

  Rutting with a cardboard cutout not exactly scoring in all categories, unless of

  course, a certain chaffing at the bit, a certain comment dire flagellated frustration

  at abseiling from pedestals. Like running a starched petticoat up a gristly

  flagpole. Or a frozen handjob in the Himalayas. Or a bit of the old frottage

  among the statuary. A mug’s game by anyone’s standards. Thinking there’s a

  myriad of mockeries a man can wake up to on any given day of the week, but

  someone’s gotta draw the line somewhere, right? And that dour puss Kokoschka

  barely grown out of his pimples, as jaunty as a rectal suppository from all

  accounts, hauling his misery around with him like a pair of balls on a chain for

  all the world to see. Supposing he’d really put one over on the old tart now, eh?

  Try this for a pose, lovely. Prodding his paintbrush into the blushiest of

  sanctimoanies the real flesh&blood wouldn’t’ve let him dawdle near in a month

  of Sundays.

  Oh she’d’ve given it to him all right, but not the way prissily apassioned

  Koko Poko would’ve put it in a postcard to himself. Lying there in some ethereal

  eiderdown with her combinations in chaste disarray, like some vaselined Vestal

  swooningly awaiting fulfilment. Well he’s got her where she can’t squirm out of it

  now, eh? Ankles nailed to the bedhead & a modest little lace peekaboo, hehehe.

  (Cuntstruck Oskaroschka could spout romantisch as drivelously as the next Nazi,

  don’t you worry.) Could just picture him, too, keeping a sailor’s chest in the

  cupboard stocked with a connoisseur’s collection of rubber masks, for occasions

  when he really got the horn up: bullheads, horseheads, goatheads,

  minotaurheads, dog&catheads, godheads, you name it. Heads in the manner of

  Phidias, of Michelangelo, of Rodin, of Arcimbaldo. Valentino heads, Bonaparte

  heads, Arch-Duke Ferdinand heads replete with muttonchops & bushy

  eyebrows. Catholic heads. Atheist heads. Hieratic heads. Heads in the Cubist

  manner, the Dada manner, the Kraut-Expressionist manner, etc.

  Hydrocephalitic heads, shrunken cannibal heads, you name it.

  Kokoschka deadpanned. Kokoschka drooled. Kokoschka stuffed a

  turpentine-drenched rag in his mouth, to get himself in the right mood. Mmmm.

  Snorting a few lines of undiluted cadmium yellow & coming on all mumbly

  schoolboyish in some sort of Walter Scott Aberdeen Angus rig-out, winkwink,

  & Didn’t she think it was about time for their “Perils of Pasiphaë” routine? Setting

  his Betacam on a tripod & rearranging that overgrown pet Barbie of his to fit

  740

  the bill, hands & knees just so, & some kind of veterinary harness he’d no doubt

  acquired just for the occasion. Clopclop of cloven hoof. Hmmm.

  ‘Oh Liebchen, do we have to already?’

  ‘But you know how much I dig making moo-moo, Almimulmi.’

  Jesus, it was only last Sunday he put on that Pluto Pup mask & went to

  work overtime tonguing her Manufacturer’s Premium Two-Year Warranty

  “lifelike rubber sphincter,” the Mata Hari Mk, till she positively blew up in his

  face. Boy oh boy! Not to mention the “Eunuch from Munich” routine on

  Wednesday. The “Double Nelson.” The “Rabbit Hole.” And, gosh, the “Golem

  in a Blood Moon,” that was something you could really write home about. Krazy

  Koko had a whole variety act going, he was considering calling it The Weimar

  Wildebeests of Alma’s Interbellum! (hehe) or One Man’s Manikin is Another Man’s Monkeybusiness! or (his personal fave) I Zoo, You Zoo, We all Zoo Zoozoo! Flipping

  his footage on a showreel to peddle to some West End nob he’d met in a cabaret

  in Kreutzberg, songbook & stagesets sketched down to the morbidest obsessive

  detail, diptychs & triptychs, Die Windsbraut ,  & , hecatombs of underpaint

  spilt in carnal selfsacrifice to the Goddess Mother of His Misery. A complete

  vocation right there, all he had to do was stop filleting his fausse floozie long

  enough to get the finished product stretched on a frame. God’s dingus, boy! Well,

  there’s only so much celluloid one man can covet in a lifetime & not turn

  himself into a strapon Mameluke. Did Kokomo, here, for even one measly

  moment truly believe that vexed voodoo doll of his was giving Mrs Alma

  Gropius the pins&needles in her prissiest of privates? Call it: Spooky influence

  at a distance! Enough to turn any self-respecting architect’s stomach —

  ‘Alma dear, really, this is utterly inappropriate! At the dinner table of all

  places! And in front of the servants, my God! You’re… You’re behaving like a

  moose in heat!’*

  �

  There were times Němec wondered about these little flights of fallacy, lying on

  his side like . little Henry David Thoreau pulling his pud by a paddling pool;

  or, . a poisoned rat (take your pick). Grey dustmotes afloat there in the middle

  of the room. It rained & then the rain stopped. Ashen light & then darkness &

 

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