Exercises in Style (11 page)

eactionary

Naturally the bus was pretty well full and the conductor was surly. You
will find the cause of these things in the 8-hour day and the nationalisation schemes.
And then the French lack organisation and a sense of their civic duties otherwise it
wouldn’t be necessary to distribute numbered tickets to keep some semblance of
order among the people waiting to get on the bus—order is the word all right! That
day there were at least ten of us waiting in the blazing sun, and when the bus did
arrive there was only room for two, and I was the sixth. Luckily I said “On
Government business” and showed a card with my photo and
a
tricolour band across it—that always impresses conductors—and I got on.
Naturally I have nothing to do with the unspeakable republican government but all the
same I wasn’t going to miss an important business luncheon for a vulgar question
of numbers. On the platform we were packed together like sardines. Such disgusting
promiscuity always causes me acute suffering. The only possible compensation is the
occasional charming contact with the quivering hindquarters of a dainty little
midinette. Ah youth, youth! But one shouldn’t let oneself get excited. That time I
was surrounded entirely by men, one of whom was a sort of teddy boy whose neck was of
inordinate length and who was wearing a felt hat with a kind of plait round it instead
of a ribbon. They ought to send all creatures of that sort off to labour camps. To
repair the war damage. That caused by the anglo-saxons, especially. In my day we were
Young Royalists, not Rock ’n Rollers. At any rate this young object suddenly makes
so bold as to start abusing an ex-service man, a real one, from the 1914 war. And he
doesn’t even answer back! When you see such things you realise that the Treaty of
Versailles was madness. As for the lout, he threw himself on to
a
vacant seat instead of leaving it to the mother of a family. What times we live in!

Anyway, I saw the pretentious young puppy again, two hours later, in
front of the Cour de Rome. He was in the company of another jackanapes of the same
kidney, who was giving him some advice about his get-up. The two of them were wandering
aimlessly up and down, instead of going off to break the windows at the communist
headquarters and burn a few books. Poor France!

aiku

Summer S long neck

plait hat toes abuse retreat

station button friend

ree verse

the bus

full

the heart

empty

the neck

long

the ribbon

plaited

the feet

flat

flat and flattened

the place

vacant

and the unexpected meeting near the station with
its thousand extinguished lights

of that heart, of that neck, of that ribbon, of those feet,

of that vacant place,

and of that button.

eminine

Lot of clots! Today round about midday (goodness it was hot, just as
well I’d put odorono under my arms otherwise my little cretonne summer dress that
my little dressmaker who makes things specially cheaply for me made for me would have
had it) near the Pare Monceau (it’s nicer than the Luxembourg where I send my son,
the idea of getting alopecia at his age) the bus came, it was full, but I made eyes at
the conductor and got in. Naturally all the idiots who’d got numbered tickets made
a fuss, but the bus had got going. With me in it. It couldn’t have been fuller. I
was terribly squashed, and not one of the men
who had a seat inside
dreamed of offering it to me. Ill-mannered lot! There was a man beside me who was quite
smart (it’s the latest thing, a plait round a felt hat instead of a ribbon,
I’m sure
Adam
must have written up this new fashion), unfortunately his
neck was too long for my liking. Some of my friends claim that if one part of a
man’s body is bigger than the average (for instance a nose that’s too big)
it’s a sign of marked capacities in another direction. But I don’t believe a
word of it. In any case, this gentlemanly creature seemed to have the permanent fidgets
and I was wondering what he was waiting for and when he was going to say something to me
or extend an exploratory hand. He must be shy, I was thinking. I wasn’t so wrong
at that. Because all of a sudden he started to pick on another man who looked horrible
anyway and who was purposely treading on his toes. If I’d been that young man
I’d have punched him on the nose but instead he quickly went and sat down the
moment he saw a vacant seat and what’s more it didn’t occur to him for a
single moment to offer it to me. The things that happen in the country of Gallantry!

A bit later, as I was passing the gare Saint-Lazare
(this time I had a seat) I caught sight of him arguing with a friend (quite a nice
looking boy I must say) about the cut of his coat (extraordinary idea to wear an
overcoat on such a hot day but it does make you look correctly dressed of course). I
looked at him but the idiot didn’t even recognise me.

allicisms
^*

One zhour about meedee I pree the ohtobyusse and I vee a zhern omm with
a daymoorzuray neck and a shappoh with a sorrt of plaited galorng. Suddenly this zhern
omm durvya loofock and praytongs that an onnate moossyur is marshing on his pyaises.
Then he jetéed himself on to a leebr plahss.

Two hours tarder I saw lur angcore; he was se balarding de lorngue ang
larzhe in front of the gare Saint-Lazare. A dahndy was donning him some cornsayes à
propos of a button.

^*
Replacing
Anglicismes

rosthesis

Bone aday gabout mmidday, con dthe drear splatform jof va kbus, snot
vfar ffrom Sparc Omonceau, Oi znoticed ta wyoung gman twhose gneck twas ztoo plong hand
awho hwas sexhibiting ga shat kwith va splaited acord xinstead yof va cribbon cround
pit. Xsuddenly che tstarted tto mharangue this nneighbour, vclaiming pthat she
fpurposely strod Ion this xtoes yevery ktime many spassengers fgot sin for tout.
Showever hhe crapidly babandoned dthe kdiscussion cand ythrew phimself qupon na dvacant
tseat.

Na ffew hhours slater Oi esaw rhim pagain fin
ifront kof uthe agare Esaint-Blazare dengrossed bin sconversation qwith ga pfriend
ewho owas ggiving rhim tsome madvice zabout tan novercoat
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbutton.

penthesis

Once dazy abogut mildday own thye repar platforum oaf ann S bugs I swaw a yoqung mean whorse necok wars toto lonig aind whoo wafs wetaring a hart wipth a planited chord instelad omf a ribobon rogund ist. Alol off a spudden hoe stairted tao haranogue hiss neighybour, claimping thast hue puruposely throd okn hims tomes evoery toime anny pascsengers grot inn oar oust. Howzever hoe rampidly abdandoned thee discussipon anod thorew himshelf upokn a vacrant sheat.

A flew houris lafter I spaw hirm agrain ian frognt orf thue garge Satint-Labzare enigrossed
ion converosation wirth a foriend woho wars tellying hism two gert tyhe tolp bustton off hirs overycoat ragised a littttttttttttttttttttttttttttle.