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
"So they are, son! . . . right you are!"
He repeats with me:
boo-oom!
"They never stop! . . . remember? . . . the Chancellery!"
"You really think so?"
I don't mind his doubting . . . the Chancellery and the bombs . . . but I wouldn't want him to stage his scene again . . . he'd got away with it once, these people know him . . . but suppose he did it somewhere else? . . .
"Listen to me, Le Vig . . . just go
boo-oom!
. . . don't do anything else! . . . Kracht's coming back!"
"Think so?"
"Yes! yes! yes! I hear him!"
You can imagine, we didn't sleep very soundly that night . . . it gets to be a habit! . . . we didn't want to be taken by surprise . . . Inge and la Kretzer in the isba . . . guarded by the
bibels
. . . nothing to feel very secure about . . . they'd certainly be back . . . they'd escape . . . and they'd be ripping mad! . . . so what? . . . Kracht was supposed to drop in on them three times between midnight and six o'clock . . . at seven it would be my turn . . . quite a ways off . . . soon as I saw a bit of light I'd get up . . . it was cold . . . a little snow was coming in through the dormer window . . . I switch on the "torch"! . . . right! . . . big flakes . . . Lili and Le Vig aren't asleep either . . . I ask him . . . I want to take him by surprise . . .
"Hey, Le Vig!"
"What?"
"You remember? . . . what the Gypsy woman said?"
"No!"
"That you killed Simmer, that's what!"
I tell him . . .
"No! I didn't kill anybody! . . . you're making it up, Ferdie! it's a lie!"
Point blank . . . gives him a turn . . .
"I told you that to wake you up!"
"I've got news for you! You're a sap!"
"Right you are, son! put it there!"
We shake hands . . . no hard feelings . . . I'd wanted to see . . . he's better . . . maybe I'd been too brusque . . . oh well . . . we shoot the shit until about six . . . I scramble out of the straw . . .
"You two just take it easy! . . . I'm going to the isba . . . right back!" . . . No! . . . they want to come with me . . . good! . . . suits me . . . but quick! . . . you can't deny it, once you stop taking your clothes off . . . what a time-saver! . . . greased lightning! look at firemen . . . they don't think, they jump! . . . half a minute, they're harnessed and out! . . . that's the cadence for the human race! . . . no time to think . . . harnessed and out! down the stairs . . . the peristyle! . . . I look at my watch . . . okay! . . . Kracht sees us . . . just back from the isba . . .
"You're going, Doctor? . . . they're impossible! . . . the whole village is bringing them furniture . . . you'll see! . . . the
bibels
are building them a stove! oh yes! . . . you'll see! out of bricks! . . . they're impossible!"
Tough babies to handle! I'd suspected as much . . . let's make it quick! . . . quite a blanket of snow . . . end of October . . . we're not alone! . . . the whole village is out there, toting furniture, chairs and cushions . . . for the prisoners! the village had beep empty last time! . . . where'd they been hiding? . . . they just didn't want to see us! . . . now they're all running to the isba! . . . what enthusiasm! what energy! what movers! with a crowd of kids, barefoot . . . they're carrying stuff too . . . pots and basins . . . the ladies are setting up housekeeping . . . mostly Russian kids, I think . . . they know us . . . they stick out their tongues at us and call us names . . . lots of names . . . dirty, I bet . . . and laughing . . . now they're all carrying bricks . . . they collide, they knock each other over . . . bricks and all! . . . and they pick themselves up! . . . and fight and grapple!
boom!
. . .
boo-oom!
even the tiny little ones go
boom!
. . . imitating bombs! over there on Berlin! and
zzzz
the planes! . . . they know! . . .
boo-oom
and
zzzz!
and they all go tumbling, brats and bricks! . . .
zzzz!
let's go! which is funnier? the bombs or the bricks? . . . the age when everything is funny! . . . nothing matters . . . but the next somersault! and
wham!
a smack in the face! and
zzzz!
upstairs! the plane doesn't stop! . . . the brick flops . . . too heavy! . . . they all go running . . . and pull it out of a hole in the snow . . . never laughed so much! . . .
bam!
another clout! here's the isba! . . . the whole village is there . . . I can see at a glance . . . all the housewives . . . and the geese . . . and the ducks . . . I look inside . . . the famous stove! . . . Ukrainian model, enormous . . . with the chimney coming through the roof . . . at least ten
bibels
plus the kids . . . construction in full swing . . . it'll be finished this evening! ten
bibel
masons . . . they're not taking it easy . . . the kids climb up and hand them the bricks . . . and slither down . . . howling and laughing! . . . and start up again! . . . it all goes together! all their deviltry! the imitation booms with the real bombs . . .
boo-oom!
in the distance . . . and the furniture being handed in! . . . the whole village hauling . . . through the cold and the snow . . . the ladies must want for nothing! dreadful, such fine ladies in an isba! . . . victims of dastardly brutes! . . . the whole village . . . the Russians and the Poles and the housewives . . . their hearts are bleeding! . . . nobody wasted a word on the cripple or Simmer or the heroic
Rittmeister
. . . fairy tales! . . . bumped off? . . . strangled, you say? really? . . . ground into ribbons? . . . piffle! but Frau von Leiden, driven out of her house, treated like a whore . . . and the three of us there, lousy
franzosen
, shit of the shit, we thought it was funny! . . . Zornhof had its hardships . . . bad! . . . at least one widow to every hut, but the three of us there and our arrogance were the worst of all! . . . we should be chucked in the manure pit too! and quick! . . . it was in the air . . . it was coming up . . . the kids' feet were frozen! . . . quick, a brazier! . . . more fun! . . . a makeshift brazier . . . branches piled on stakes . . . and a match! . . . Kracht's against it . . .
verboten, verboten
, he yells . . . the kids don't give a damn . . .
"maul zu!
. . . shut your trap!" I think he'd have fired, but they were so steamed up we'd never have come off alive, they'd have stormed the manor and the farm . . . the kids and the mothers and prisoners, I mean . . . and exterminated the monsters! us! . . . Kracht had lost control . . . they were just waiting for him to fire . . . I tell him . . . "it's no use, Kracht!". . . a fact! one look was enough! . . . the whole village was traipsing in and out, toting more cushions and furniture . . . "for the poor ladies . . ." better if we came back later when they'd finished the big stove . . . Kracht sees the light, we take the same path back . . . snow all over . . . the kids all hooting at us . . .
"heil! heil! mörderer!
. . . murderers!''. . . no less! . . . no comeback, public opinion's against us! . . . well anyway, they didn't massacre us! . . . they could have! . . . the times I've said "they could have!" since '39 . . . a thousand opportunities! same old song! . . . Hérold Paqui ° weeping with rage on his way to be hanged . . . "they haven't shot Céline!" . . . he'd have died happy . . . same with Cousteau, the frustrated cancer victim . . . dear old Cousteau! . . . who'd done everything he could to get me drawn and quartered . . . and surely a thousand others!
What was more important right then was that lady "prisoners" shouldn't escape! . . . and that nobody should follow us . . . we creep very cautiously from thicket to thicket . . . still snowing . . . the peristyle . . . two women, all muffled up . . . not peasants . . . waiting! for us, I think . . . we come closer . . . it's Marie-Thérèse, the heiress, and Countess Thor von Thorfels . . . standing there in the snow . . . what do they want of us? first they speak to Kracht . . . they want to know if they're going to be arrested too . . . and transferred to the isba . . . it's almost daylight now . . . they don't look so hot, their noses are running . . . waiting a long time? . . . I'd never seen them together, I don't think they ever saw each other . . . one at her daughter's at the farm, the other in her tower . . . now they're friends, arm in arm . . . shivering . . . with cold and fear . . . Countess Thor von Thorfels explains . . . they don't want to go back to the farm . . . why not? . . . Nicholas is there! . . . the Russian giant! . . . and Léonard and Joseph! . . . and the rest of them! . . . they'd start another fire! . . .
"Fire? fire?"
I set them straight . . .
"Inge von Leiden started the fire! . . . and she's locked up! . . . would you like to see her?"
I suggest . . .
"Oh no! . . . oh no!"
They're even more scared of Inge than of the giant Nicholas . . . "what then? what then? . . ." Kracht asks . . . they'll stay upstairs . . . at Marie-Thérèse's place together . . . and then . . . at night . . . they'll come down to the
Rittmeister
's old office . . . that way they won't be so scared of Inge . . .
And it'll be company for our
Revizor!
. . . which reminds me to introduce him . . .
They follow me . . .
"Countess Thor von Thorfels! Countess Marie-Thérèse von Leiden!"
He's delighted . . . he'd like to get up and greet them properly . . . he can't . . . he'd like to welcome the ladies . . . he makes a gesture . . . one arm, no morel but he does the honors . . . he thinks he's at home . . .
"Here, dear ladies, you see two divans! do forgive the abominable disorder! there an armchair! . . . and over there, I believe, a piano! . . . there in back, the windows! SS Kracht, you know him, forbids us to open the blinds! his idea! . . . hee-hee!"
He laughs, but it hurts him . . . he winces . . .
"Oh! Oh!"
"We see, Monsieur le
Revizor!
don't move! . . . don't move!"
He insists . . .
"You would see the pool! just below the balcony . . . your brother died here, right beside me . . . the
Landrat
died in that pool . . . your nephew, Madame, died in the pit . . . you know the pit, I presume?"
A stickler for precision . . . bad shape, in pain, but there mustn't be any mistake . . . he wouldn't want the ladies to get the wrong idea! . . . Kracht listens . . . he doesn't say a word . . . Le Vig is fidgeting, he wants us to go back to the isba . . . his mania . . . "Take it easy!" I was due for three more visits . . . Kracht at night . . . me in the daytime, for medical reasons . . . lovely reception we could look forward to! . . . I ask the ladies if they'd like to take a little stroll . . . no . . . and they won't go upstairs either. . . they'll set up housekeeping in the drawing room right away . . . the
Revizor
won't be in their way, every time he tries to move, he groans . . . he groans a lot worse when we have to hold him on the pot . . . this is the time, before we leave . . . we lift him up and hold him, he complains but not too much, he's a good patient . . . he thanks us affectionately, that'll do till next time . . . his fracture isn't so hot . . . the consolidation, I mean . . . the edema is clearing up . . . but I'm ashamed of the way it's knitting . . . he should lie still, damn it! . . . and how are we going to keep him from disturbing the ladies? . . . the ladies aren't paying any attention to us, they're busy in back with the blinds, trying to open them . . .
verboten!
. . . but they don't give a damn! . . . they want some light! . . . fine! . . . perfect! . . . they'll make up the divans for themselves . . . we'd been sleeping on them . . . we'll divide the room in two . . . or three . . . they'll be more comfortable than in our straw . . . the
Revizor
's moaning pretty bad, but after his injection he's all right . . . they'll need mattresses . . . no problem . . . from the Kretzers' on the next floor . . . well attend to that when we get back from the isba! . . . my turn now, my medical call! I want Le Vig to come . . . and not stay with the women and the
Revizor
. . . he'd shoot his mouth off . . . "C'mon, Le Vig!" . . . I'm very firm! . . . I'm not so keen on seeing Inge, but it can't be helped . . . here we are outside . . . you know . . . the path . . . at the last bush before the isba . . . I tell Le Vig: "look sharp!'' very few people around, only the
bibels
on guard . . . as arranged . . . walking up and down, their way of mounting guard . . . no guns, picks and shovels . . . I shout to them . . .
"Nothing new? . . .
nichts neues?"
"Nein! nein! niemand weg!
nobody gone! everything okay!"
They know me well . . . just what I wanted to hear . . . I'm reassured, but not a hundred percent . . . Inge's capable of anything . . . I'll be back, my next round, in two hours . . . ah, another question! I'd forgotten! . . .
"niemand krank?
nobody sick?
"Nein! nein!
. . . Perfect. . . about-face . . . back to the manor . . . the peristyle . . . the drawing room . . . not bad! . . . the ladies have made themselves at home . . . not the barracks effect, regular rooms . . . pretty smart! . . . I hadn't known about those screens! beautiful things, they'd unearthed them! fine pieces, tall and tapestried . . . this von Leiden place had had style . . . the manor house was as good as the park . . . a miniature Versailles . . .
"And now for the messkits!"
"No, no!" Lili won't have it . . . the village is all ready to settle our hash . . . the two of us with our messkits, just what they're waiting for! she's got something there . . . besides, the sky's getting worse and worse . . . Fortresses on Fortresses! . . . the truth! . . . I listen . . . you don't have to touch the walls . . . they're vibrating, you can see them . . . and the floor . . .
boo-oom!
. . . it's not just the explosions, after every bomb a throbbing . . .
b-r-r-r
. . . the bomb fizzling out . . . and spreading in all directions . . . far . . . far in the distance . . . and nearer . . . Lili's right . . . but what about our messkits? . . . not that we're very hungry, but later? . . . and there's six or seven of us with Bébert . . . of course we have our reserve stocks, the cupboard . . . that cupboard again! . . . but in front of these broads? . . . of course they know all about it, but even so, their presence cramps my style . . . comparing our situation to the isba, it seems to me they've got it good, I'm sure somebody brings them stuff . . . if anybody sends us anything, it'll be Inge fully equipped with gasoline and matches . . . and this time it'll be for keeps! the whole place'll go up! sure as shit! . . . it's all so funny! . . . they're still laughing! . . . the
Revizor
's got his private room too! . . . they've set up screens around him . . . three! . . . he's complaining . . . I can hear him . . . I go in . . . his leg hurts . . . and what's more, he's hungry! . . . he asks me . . . he wants some black bread . . . he's desperate! . . . damn! I tell Lili . . . I tell the broads . . . of course they know I've been digging into the cupboard . . . supplying all Zornhof . . . and Léonard and Joseph'. . . and the Gypsies . . . and the
bibelforschers'
kitchen . . . so here now for the
Revizor
, all smashed up and likely to pass on any minute . . . I'd be inhuman to hesitate . . .