Read North Online

Authors: LOUIS-FERDINAND CÉLINE

Tags: #Autobiographical fiction, #War Stories, #Historical Fiction, #Historical, #Biographical, #World War, #1939-1945, #1939-1945 - Fiction, #Fiction, #Literary, #Adventure stories, #War & Military, #General, #Picaresque literature

North (35 page)

Not at all what we were expecting . . . we'd expected to be notified of this and that . . . especially that we were being thrown out . . . not at all! a warm welcome . . . on the front steps a great big streamer
"Vive la France"
. . . must be for us! . . . and the steps painted blue, white, and red . . . for us too? in token of friendship? . . . upstairs they're all at table . . . and what a table! . . . nothing like our
mahlzeit!
. . . groaning under hors d'oeuvres and fruit salad . . . three four hams . . . turkeys and chickens . . . a real feast! is it us they're feasting? . . . remains to be seen . . . they've already taken their places . . . we're introduced . . . I knew the
Rittmeister
Count von Leiden . . . I knew Simmer too, Harras had taken us to see him, a repulsive old fossil, painted, pomaded, and wounded at Verdun . . . a total bastard, we'd been warned . . . from what we'd heard, he got a kick out of executing the prisoners in the camps . . . Russian, Polack, French . . . on the slightest pretext . . . women too . . . plenty of pretexts, especially the black market in butter and eggs . . . I hadn't seen him since Moorsburg . . . he never came out . . . but it seemed he was on very good terms with Inge von Leiden . . . hearsay . . . here I saw him primped and powdered, with his big gold chain, his cabochon rings on every finger, painted like an old whore, lips rouged, nails lacquered . . . first time I saw him, I'd said . . . "Colleague, he'd look good at the Châtelet, with music!'' . . . I was thinking of the ballet. . . Harras had warned me. . . he'd take offense at a trifle, his rages were terrible . . . "full powers". . . no joke! . . . in the first place this colonel of the Empress's Uhlans didn't like us! . . . get a load of him, boots with pompons, schapska, violet brandenburgs, saber with gold tassel. . . he was unforgettable . . . and maybe, come to think of it, no worse than the rest of them . . . most affable on this occasion . . . amazing! . . . how long would it last? . . . he introduces us to the lady beside him . . . he speaks French very well, with a German accent, but no rasp, no bark, more of a singsong . . . he must come of a good family, all good families in his day had French governesses . . . in Russia, Germany, Denmark, or England . . . you'll find that all the old fogeys of good family have perfectly tolerable accents and elegant well-chosen phrases . . . the harmony of the
Grande Époque
. . . their knowledge of other languages is very approximate, not so hot . . .

He introduces us to Countess Thor von Thorfels . . . ah, at last! . . . she's certainly kept us on tenterhooks! they've been talking about her for three months! . . . She . . . my word! . . . she's a pastel! more painted than the
Landrat!
. . . and even more jewels, three necklaces! . . . a lorgnette set with gems . . . a long "Régence" cane with a carved handle . . . blond wig, must be a wig . . . with a big chignon . . . the tragedy of all women . . . society, low class, if s all the same . . . if they hang on, they get to look like madams . . . or if they let themselves go . . . like parish ladies, no good for anything but mourning the dead and laying them out . . . ah, the cruelty of Nature!

This lady, Countess Thor von Thorfels, isn't the least bit contemptuous, quite the contrary . . . so glad to see us! overjoyed! . . .

"You here! . . . French people! I'm so happy! . . . all three of you! . . . is my daughter treating you properly? . . . I want to know! . . . My son-in-law is a poor invalid . . . you know him!"

"Certainly, Madame, certainly!"

"All in your honor, my dear French friends! . . . the pleasure will be ours! . . . our modest repast!"

Clucking!

Some modest repast! . . . giant platters of hors d'oeuvre and smoked salmon . . . chickens en gelée . . . caviar . . . and compote . . . huge dishes of butter . . . I hadn't seen the like since the Simplon . . . but what would they do to us afterward? All very well these sumptuous meals, but then what? In Cameroun. I'd seen their mystique . . . when they were going to boil somebody they'd get him good and drunk first . . . these people, so friendly all of a sudden . . . is that what they had up their sleeve? . . . ample ground for suspicion . . . they were all hostile . . . not only to us, even to each other . . . very much so, in fact . . . the old
Rittmeister
sitting next to Inge . . . not a word to each other . . . but there they were . . . what was behind it? . . . I looked to see what they were eating . . . just a little of the hors d'oeuvre . . . maybe there was something wrong with the other dishes? . . . and the husband, the cripple? Simmer asks where he is . . . in German . . .

"With Nicholas!"

"His gun! quick, Inge, if you please! . . . this minute! . . . with Nicholas!"

Inge shrugs . . . she's not in a hurry . . .

"His gun, Inge, if you please. Immediately!"

She makes up her mind, she goes out . . . we hear a bit of discussion and she comes back . . . with the weapon . . . Simmer grabs it. . . he pops out two shells! . . . and he hangs on to it! . . . on his lap! not very trusting . . . but Countess Thor von Thorfels is so glad to see us . . . all smiles and mimicry . . . she pays no attention to the
Landrat
. . . only to us . . . "So you've come from Paris? . . . all three of you? with your cat? Bébert?"

"Oh, yes, Madame . . . yes!"

As long as she's so friendly, I have quite a few questions to ask . . . I risk it . . . I ask her very respectfully if up there in her country the landscape is the same as here . . . plains? . . . plains?

"Oh, much bigger plains, my dear Doctor! immense! you'll see! enormously too big I assure you! I'm bored at home, my friends . . . I call you my friends! . . . you don't mind?"

"Oh, of course not, Madame! a great honor!"

"You can imagine, my castle alone . . . forty-two large salons and reception halls . . . I've never counted the bedrooms! my husband knew! . . . and the forest!"

She sighs at the thought of the forest . . .

"I don't know how many acres, Doctor! . . . my husband knew! . . . and wolves! . . . and bears! . . . you'll see!"

All of a sudden she starts laughing . . .

"You'll come and see it with me! . . . you'll enjoy yourselves! . . . all three of you! . . . with Inge! . . . with Cillie! . . . Marie-Thérèse will come too! . . . you will come, won't you?"

"Certainly! Certainly, Madame!"

We could hardly refuse . . . it gave her so much pleasure . . . I could see the three of us in Pomerania! . . . okay . . . okay . . . time will tell . . .

"Oh, but we don't know each other!"

True . . . very true . . .

And out with the bewitching memories! . . . the whole repertory! . . . we're stuck! . . . France! . . . Paris! the enchantment of the Bois de Boulogne! Avenue des Acacias! the Grand Prix! . . . the battle of flowers . . . my responses are okay, I know those things, I share her enthusiasm . . . but the Elysée, I flunk, never been there! . . . the President of the Republic . . . the grand ball at the Opera . . . the Neuilly fair . . . ah, there I come in again! . . . and what a wonderful time Madame la Comtesse had everywhere! . . . and my! the Moulin Rouge! . . . Heaven! Hell! . . . the Abbey of Thélème! ° . . . what? . . . why? . . . her husband, the late Count Thor von Thorfels, had been president of the Léon Bourgeois ° Committee for North Germany . . . which accounts for everything! . . . ah, Monsieur Léon Bourgeois! ° . . . what distinction! . . . what delicacy! what eloquence! . . . it brings the tears to her eyes! . . . the happy hours! . . . ah, Paris! . . . paradise! . . . everywhere! they went everywhere! . . . even to the Flea Market! what delightful little things they bought, we'd see them at her home in Pomerania! knickknacks! . . . portraits! . . . the count was wild about the Flea Market! . . . we'd see those souvenirs with our own eyes . . . a whole floor of the castle was furnished "à la Parisienne" . . . oh yes, the countess knew Europe, all the big cities! . . . and the spas! . . . tolerable cities, one might live in them . . . but to live, really, with joie de vivre, only one city! . . . we were in perfect agreement! . . . ready to weep with her . . . not for exactly the same reasons . . . but pretty near . . .

"You don't know Königsberg?"

I confess . . .

"We deeply regret it!"

"You'll see! . . . so gloomy! . . . the sea frozen over six months a. year! . . . and the forests! . . . mine, Doctor! . . . the deer! . . . the bears! . . . all mine!"

I could see that the countess was afraid of her castle . . . and the forests . . . and Königsberg . . .

"Worse, Doctor! . . . worse! . . . they're fighting up there! . . . yes! . . . farther up, I believe! . . . near Memel . . . I hear the artillery! . . . my domestics say it's ours! . . . what do you think? . . . I hear it . . . especially at night! . . . ours? . . . theirs? my guards tell me anything that comes into their heads!"

"Madame la Comtesse, here too! . . ."

I wasn't going to tell her to listen . . . it was better to let her talk about the Flower Market . . . the Cours-la-Reine . . . and Versailles . . . still with Monsieur Bourgeois . . . the fountains! . . . the countess was lost in a dream! . . . and to think that the three of us had come all the way from Paris to this abominable Zornhof! . . . a miracle! . . . she saw us at the Elysée with her, at the Opera thirty years before! the mad spell of Paris isn't so much in the songs . . . shadows cast by gas lamps, alcoholic refrains . . . as in the hearts of despairing elderly exiles, far away . . . the course of events . . . in Königsberg . . . Oklahoma . . . the Caribbean . . . we were in perfect agreement! . . . of course we'd go and see her! . . . a promise! . . . Kracht had given me ample warning: whatever you do, don't cross her! . . . sure she was kind of comical, but her castle existed . . . not in the least imaginary! . . . neither were the deep forests . . . or the wolves, etc.  . . . perfectly true! . . . the fighting too, around Mèmel . . . the Russians coming closer . . . At that table, that feast I should say, nobody else could get a word in . . . not even the
Landrat!
. . . she had the floor, and that was that! . . . the Landrat had a few things to say, yes indeed! . . . she wouldn't let him . . .
bitte! bitte!
. . . if you please! . . . a cutting little gesture, meaning to keep stilll and listen! . . .The precious powdered colonel with the shotgun in his lap . . . took second helpings of chicken and turkey, with plenty of gravy . . . he drank out of three glasses at once . . . Rhine wine, bordeaux, and kirsch . . . but he couldn't say what he wanted to, she didn't let him . . .
bitte! bitte! 
. . . he slavered and jiggled, he shook his chair . . .  and demanded to speak! . . . to me! to me! he wanted to speak to me! he pointed his finger at me . . .
sie! sie!

"You! youl
ruhe! ruhe!
quiet!"

For the old bag to shut up! . . . the infernal talking machine!

"Here! here! . . .
sie!
. . . you!"'

He takes a paper out of his pocket . . . he wants me to read it!
sie! sie! 
. . . at once!

Aha! I read . . . I'd suspected as much . . . "permit to practice''! . . .
Erlaubnis
. . . is that what we're celebrating? this feed, all these people? for me? . . . and the little tricolor flags? the
Landrat
almost affable . . . the old screwball from Königsberg with her forests and her passionate friendship . . . all this for me? . . . true, Harras had told me I'd get it in the end, after months, maybe years . . . that the Berlin offices were absolutely hostile . . . anti-Nazi, anti-French, anti-collabo, anti-everything . . . "The times have changed" . . . you'll say . . . "other nations other notions!". . . not at all! . . . my balls! . . . it's the same right here! twenty years later! only yesterday the French Television played a trick on me . . . as stinking dastardly rude as the worse Teutons! . . . you've got to admit, certain people are exceptional at the piano, at the guitar, at bowling . . . others in mathematics, painting, or crossword puzzles . . . my special gift, in every camp, is getting myself excommunicated . . . a subhuman, absolutely discombobulating jerk . . . take the Television only the day before yesterday! . . . they come around, some interesting idea . . . one look at me, they decamp in terror! . . . take down their cameras, put away their film! . . . they don't even apologize! . . . not a word! . . . to show you what we've come to! "the rabble will inherit the earth!" . . . Nietzsche foresaw it . . . and here we are! . . . Ministers, Satraps, Dien-Pen-Hu all over the place! . . . leaks ° and pink panties! . . .

Griping again? . . . only making things worse for myself! . . . up there in Zornhof, Brandenburg, was I going to gripe about the ministers? . . . and their offices on Wilhelmstrasse? . . . was I going to protest? give somebody what for? they'd have purged me . . . just like that! . . .
La Croix
° would have been glad . . . Malraux too . . . and plenty more! . . . I'd have never come back from Brandenburg . . . prepurged by the Nazis! . . . my carcass to the beets! . . . so frau the man who is right!

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