The Magus, A Revised Version (70 page)

BOOK: The Magus, A Revised Version
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By this sinister elision, this slipping from true remorse, the belief that the suffering we have precipitated ought to ennoble
us,
or at least make us less ignoble from then on, to disguised self-forgiveness, the belief that suffering in some way ennobles
life,
so that the precipitation of pain comes, by such a
cockeyed algebra, to equal the
ennoblement, or at any rate the enrichment, of life, by this characteristically twentieth-century retreat from content into form, from meaning into appearance, from ethics into aesthetics, from
aqua
into
u
nda,
I dulled the pain of that accusing death; and hardened mysel
f
, to say nothing of it at Bourani. I was still determined to tell Julie, but at the right time and place, when the exchange rate between confession and the sympathy it evoked looked likely to be high.

Before I moved
off
I took out the headed Barclays letter and read it again. It had the effect of making me feel more indulgent towards Conchis than I had intended to be. I saw no objection now to a few small last dissimulations

on both sides.

 

 

It was like the first day. The being uninvited, unsure; the going through the gate, approaching the house in its silent sunlit mystery, going round the colonnade; and there too it was the same, the tea-table covered in muslin. No one present. The sea and the heat through the arches, the tiled floor, the silence, the waiting.

And although I was nervous for different reasons, even that was the same. I put my duffel-bag on the cane settee and went into the music-room. A figure rose from behind the harpsichord, as if it had been sitting there in wait. Neither of us said anything.


I am expected?


Yes.


In spite of your note?

He stared at me, then down at my hand

my battle-wound from the Nazi incident ten days previously. It was scarred and still red from the daubings of mercurochrome the school nurse had put on it.


You must be careful. There is always the danger of tetanus.

I smiled grimly.

I intend to be.

No apologies, no explanations, not even answers to questions: it was very clear that whatever he might have told the girls, he was not finished with trying to bamboozle me. Behind him, through the window, I saw Maria pass with a tray.
I
also saw something else. The old photograph of

Lily

had disappeared from the cabinet of obscene antiquities. I put my duffel-bag on the floor, then folded my arms and gave him another thin smile.


I had a talk with Barba Dimitraki the other day.


Indeed.


I understand I have more fellow-victims than I thought.


Victims?


Whatever you call people who are made to suffer without being given the choice.


That sounds like an excellent definition of man.


I

m more interested in a definition of someone who seems to think he is God.

At last he smiled, as if he took as a compliment what had clearly been said sarcastically. Then he came round the harpsichord towards me.


Let me see this hand of yours.

I lifted it impatiently. It had been badly grazed along the knuckles, but it was largely healed now. He examined it, asked if there had been any septicaemia. Then he looked me in the eyes.

This was not intended. At least you will accept that?


I

m not accepting anything
any more
, Mr Conchis. Except the truth.


You may find you were happier not knowing it.


I

ll risk that.

He measured the look in my eyes, then gave a little shrug.


Very well. Let us have tea.

I followed him out under the colonnade. He stood to pour, waved me rather impatiently to my chair opposite. I sat. He waved again at the food.

Please.

I took a sandwich, but spoke before I started eat-ingit.


I thought the girls were going to hear the truth with me.


They know it already.

He sat down.


Including the fact that you forged a letter from me to Julie?


It is her letters to you that are the forgeries.

I noted that plural. He must have guessed she had been writing, but had guessed wrong as to the quantity. I smiled.

Sorry. I

ve been bitten once too often.

He looked down, then smoothed,
I
fancied a shade uneasily, obviously not knowing the full extent of the rapport between Julie and myself, the edge of the table-cloth. He gave me his grave eyes.


What do you think I am doing?


Taking some infernal liberties.


Were you ever forced to return here?
To come here in the first place?


Now you

re being naive. You know damn well that no normal person could have stayed away.

I raised my scarred hand.

And in spite of this, I

m very far from being ungrateful. But stage one of the masque, experiment, whatever you call it, is over.

I smiled at him.

Your tame white rats have tumbled.

I could see he didn

t understand the slang use of that last word. I said,

Fallen flat on their faces. But see no reason for repeating the process until they know

why.

Again he searched my eyes. I remembered something June had
said:
He wants us to be mysteries to him as well.
But it was only too
clearly a very limited freedom and mystery he wanted in us; however large a maze the scientist builds, its purpose is still to allow him to watch every move. He seemed to come to a decision.


You learnt from Barba Dimitraki that I had a small private theatre here before the war?


Yes.

He leant back.

During the war, when I had a great deal of time to think, and no friends to amuse me, I conceived a new kind of drama. One in which the conventional separation between actors and audience was abolished. In which the conventional scenic geography, the notions of proscenium, stage, auditorium, were completely discarded. In which continuity of performance, either in time or place, was ignored. And in which the action, the narrative was fluid, with only a point of departure and a fixed point of conclusion. Between those points the participants invent their own drama.

His mesmeric eyes pinned mine.

You will find that Artaud and Pirandello and Brecht were all thinking, in their different ways, along similar lines. But they had neither the money nor the will

and doubtless, not the time

to think as far as I did. The element they could not bring themselves to discard was the audience.

I gave him an openly sceptical smile. This did make slightly more sense than his previous

explanations

, but he apparently remained ludicrously blind to the fact that he had destroyed even the remotest hope of my ever believing anything he said again

that is, he trotted out this new story with his habitual conviction, as if I could not possibly not swallow it. isee.


We are all actors here, my friend. None of us is what we really are. We all lie some of the time, and some of us all the time.


Except me.


You have much to learn. You are as far from your true self as that Egyptian mask our American friend wore is from his true face.

I gave him a warning look.

He

s not
my
American friend.


If you had seen him play Othello, you would not say that. He is a very accomplished young actor.


He must be. I thought he was meant to be a mute.


Then I have proved my praise.


Rather a waste of such talent.

He sat watching me: the old humourlessly amused look. I said,

Your bank balance must get some surprises.


The tragedy of being very rich is that one

s bank balance is incapable of giving one surprises. Pleasant or otherwise. But I confess that this was to be the most ambitious of our creations.

He added,

For the reason that for me there may not be another year.


Your heart?


My heart.

But he looked immortally tanned and fit; in any case, distanced any sympathy.


Why do you say

was to be

?


Because you have proved incapable of playing your part properly.

I grinned; it was becoming absurd.

It might have helped if I

d known what it was.


You were given many indications.


Look, Mr Conchis, I know what you

ve been saying to Julie about the rest of this summer. I didn

t come here to be provoked into a quarrel with you. So can we drop this ridiculous nonsense about my having failed you in some way? Either you meant me to fail or I haven

t failed. There

s no other alternative.


I am telling you, as the director, if you like, that you have failed to gain a part. But if it is any consolation, I will also tell you that even if you had gained it, it would not have brought you what you wish … the young woman you find so seductive. That was always to be the fixed point of conclusion this summer.

I

d like to hear that from her.


It is you who would not have wanted to see her again. The comedy is over.


But I intend to sec the actress home afterwards.


She has promised that, no doubt.


In ways infinitely more credible than yours.


Her promises are worth nothing. All here is artifice. She is acting, amusing herself with you. Playing Olivia to your Malvolio.


And I suppose her name is not Julie Holmes?


Her real first name is Lily.

I grinned so broadly that I had once again to admire his ability to keep a straight face. In the end I looked down.

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