Where Tigers Are at Home (8 page)

“What was it you said?… 367 … N.P.… B? N.B.… 40 … There, I’ve got it. Why is he refusing to sell? It’s nothing but forest and marshes. My God, what a load of cretins! Offer him twice the price and let him go hang. It all has to be sorted out within the fortnight … No … I said no, Wagner! I don’t want any trouble, especially not at the moment. And you know I don’t really like those methods anyway … How does he earn his living?… OK, I’ll see to it. Don’t you worry, it’ll go through even quicker than we thought. By the way, they’ve moved the meeting up: tomorrow, three o’clock … I don’t want to know! Be there without fail, I’m counting on you … That’s right … That’s right … OK, call back if there’s the least problem.”

As soon as he’d replaced the receiver, the Colonel leaned over to the intercom. “Anita, get me
Frutas do Maranhão
, please. And then I wouldn’t mind a little coffee.”

“Right, Colonel … Who do you want to speak to?”

“Bernardo Carvalho, the CEO …”

The Colonel leaned back in his chair to light a long cigarillo, savoring the first puffs with evident enjoyment. Behind him a little colonial-style window, the lower half with small yellow and green panes, cast a slightly acid light on his off-white suit. With his broad, clear forehead and wavy, black Franz Liszt hair hanging down over
his ears, Governor Moreira da Rocha’s face was like a picture of a politician from the previous century. The impression was confirmed—or perhaps it was the detail that created it—by the presence of a pair of huge white side-whiskers encroaching on his cheeks to the corners of his mouth, setting off in a way that bordered on the obscene a heavy chin split in two by a cleft. With this frame, all eyes were drawn to his mouth; seen by itself, its fullness and the sensual pout of disdain that twisted it slightly made it look youthful. Meeting the Colonel’s eyes after that, lodged like two pieces of lead shot between the reptilian folds of his lids, one became aware of the cynicism accumulated in their deep, grainy, blackish rings and it became impossible to say whether one was dealing with a fairly well-preserved old man or one prematurely aged by overindulgence. Moreira was aware of the unease caused by his expressive features and he always made skillful, sometimes even cruel, use of it.

The intercom crackled briefly. “That’s Bernardo Carvalho on the line, Colonel, extension three.”

The Colonel pressed a switch and settled back in his chair again. “Hi there, Nando?… Fine, and you? How are things with you, old chap?… Yes … Ha ha ha! You’d better watch out, at your age getting up to that kind of lark could cost you! You’ll have to introduce me to her so I can show her what life’s really about. But let’s get down to serious stuff. There’s a little shit, name of Nicanor Carneiro, who owns some property and who’s giving me problems. You know who it is?… No, nothing serious, but I’d like to give him a lesson, teach him good manners. You’re going to forget him for a while when you’re purchasing fruit … Just long enough for his bloody mangoes to rot. That’s right, yes … And do it so he can’t pass them off to someone else, eh … OK,
amigo
, don’t worry, I owe you. And I expect to see you at my little party, don’t forget. See you soon … Yes, that’s right … That’s right … 
Ciao
, Nando, got to go now, there’s someone on the other line … 
Ciao …”

He relit his cigar when his secretary came in carrying a silver tray. Closing the door with her hip, she crossed the room carefully so as not to spill anything on the crimson wall-to-wall carpet.

A translucent, fine linen suit, boxwood pearls on her tanned skin, austere bun and stiletto heels. A woman to tempt all the saints of Bahia! Certainly something different from those frumps of the Nordeste
.

“Your coffee, sir,” she said hesitantly, suddenly embarrassed at finding herself mentally undressed by the governor.

Moreira moved some papers that were right in front of him. “Put it down there, please.”

To put the tray down where he had indicated, Anita had to go around the desk to his right-hand side. The Colonel felt her body brush against his shoulder. Just as she was about to pour the coffee he slipped a hand up her skirt.

“No … Not that, sir …” she said, trying to move away. “Please … Don’t …”

His hand clamped to the flesh of her thigh, unmoving like a handler subduing a dog, he maintained his hold, relishing the way the young woman stiffened and the waves of panic running across her skin.

The ring of the telephone caught them in this petrified stuggle. Without letting go, the Colonel picked up the receiver with his free hand.

“Yes? No, darling … At the moment I still don’t know when I’ll be able to get away. But I’ll send the driver if you want … 
The sudden capture of the crotch, swollen lips, the yielding fruit of the mango tree …
Now don’t be silly … Of course I love you, where did you get that idea … 
Earthy moisture, the jungle of the genitals, spongy under the kneading fingers …
But of course, my love, I promise … Put on your glad rags, there’ll be quite a crowd … Go on, I’m listening. I’ve said I’m listening, now be reasonable, please.”

Tears in her eyes, leaning forward as if being searched by the police, Anita desperately scrutinized the bust facing her.
Antônio Francisco Lisboa … Antônio Francisco Lisboa …
With an absurd sense of urgency, she read and reread the inscription on the plaster, gorging on it as if it were an exorcism that could purify her.

HARDLY HAD WE
reached the security of the Jesuit college in Mainz than the superiors of our Order decided to send Athanasius Kircher far away from the war and the German states. This favor was due solely to his renown, which was already considerable both within our Order & in learned societies the world over. He was given letters of recommendation to the College of Avignon & I was granted permission to accompany him in the capacity of private secretary.

In Paris, where we arrived without mishap, we were received with open arms by the Jesuits of the
Collège de la Place Royale
. There Kircher was to meet some of the learned scholars with whom he had been in correspondence for several years: Henry Oldenburg, first secretary of the Royal Society in London, who
was visiting Paris, La Mothe Le Vayer & the Franciscan Marin Mersenne. With the latter he had long disputations on all kinds of questions that at the time were beyond my understanding. He also saw Monsieur Pascal, who seemed to him a peerless mathematician but a sad specimen of humanity & one whose faith smacked of heresy. The same was true of Monsieur Descartes, the apostle of the New Philosophy, who made a mixed impression on him.

He likewise met Monsieur Thévenot de Melquisedeq, who had travelled to China & had returned with an inordinate taste for oriental philosophies. Fascinated by Kircher’s knowledge of these difficult subjects, he invited him to spend several days at the
Désert de Retz
, a property he owned on the outskirts of Paris. I was not allowed to accompany him & am therefore not in a position to say what happened there, especially since Athanasius always maintained a discreet silence on the subject. But on the pretext of religion or some Chinoiseries, my master was compelled to witness scenes decency forbade him to describe, for every time he mentioned an example of human lechery or excesses to which idolatry or ignorance can lead, he would cite the
Désert de Retz
as the principal source of his experience.

After just a few weeks spent in Paris, we finally arrived at the Collège d’Avignon, where Father Kircher was to teach mathematics & Biblical languages. A Northerner brought up in the Germanic mists, Athanasius was immediately taken with the brightness of the South. It was as if the world were opening up again for him, as if he could suddenly see its divine light. More than a simple star to observe through the telescope, the Sun proved to be the lamp of God, His presence & His aura among men.

Discovering in the plain of Arles the wonderful predisposition of the sunflower to follow the course of the sun, my master
conceived and immediately constructed a clock based on this singular principle. He filled a small, circular basin with water on which he floated a smaller disc bearing a pot containing one of those plants. No longer held back by its fixed roots, the sunflower was free to turn toward the daystar. A needle attached to the center of its corolla indicated the hours on the fixed ring which crowned this curious device.

“But above all this machine,” Kircher said when he presented it to the college authorities, “or, to be more precise, this
biological engine
in which art & nature are so perfectly combined, shows us how our soul turns toward the divine light, attracted to it by an analogous sympathy or magnetism of a spiritual order when we manage to free it from the vain passions that impede this natural inclination.”

The heliotropic clock was soon known through Provence & contributed greatly to the spread of his fame.

My master also found it a valuable advantage to be living close to the port of Marseilles. Thus it was that he had the good fortune to meet David Magy, a merchant of Marseilles; Michel Bégon, treasurer of the Levant Fleet in Toulon; & Nicolas Arnoul, master of the galleys, who had been commissioned to go to Egypt & bring back various objects for the King of France’s collections. It was through these people, who purchased all the curiosities the Jews & Arabs could bring them, that Kircher saw any number of little dried crocodiles & lizards, vipers & serpents, scorpions & chameleons, stones of rare color engraved with ancient figures & hieroglyphs as well as all sorts of Egyptian images made of glazed terracotta. He also saw some sarcophagi & a few mummies at the house of Monsieur de Fouquet, idols, stelae & inscriptions, of which he always begged to be allowed to make an impression. Athanasius never wearied of going around the country to visit these people and admire
their collections. He bought, exchanged or copied everything that was directly relevant to his researches, especially Oriental books or manuscripts that reached the continent in Provence. Thus it was that one day he had the great good fortune to exchange an old astronomical telescope for an exceedingly rare Persian transcription of Saint Matthew’s Gospel.

Conjecturing that the Coptic still spoken in Egypt was like the petrified language of the ancient Egyptians & that it would be useful in penetrating the secrets of the hieroglyphs, Kircher immediately started to study it & became very knowledgeable in it within a few months.

My master seemed to have forgotten Germany & all his ties with Fulda; he never ceased to learn, nor to put his astonishing ingenuity into practice. Thus it was that, shortly after our arrival in Avignon, he had the idea of illustrating his knowledge of catoptrics by constructing an extraordinary machine. Working day and night in the tower of the
Collège de la Motte
he assembled, with his own hands, a device capable of representing the whole of the heavens. On the appointed day he astounded everyone by projecting the entire celestial mechanics onto the vault of the grand staircase. As if impelled by their own motion, the Moon, the Sun & the constellations moved in accordance with the rules established by Tycho Brahe, & by a simple & swift contrivance he was able to reproduce the precise state of the sky at any date in the past. In response to requests from teachers and students he thus presented the horoscopes of Our Lord Jesus Christ, of Pyrrhus, of Aristotle & Alexander.

It was on that occasion, as Pierre Gassendi recounts in his memoirs, that Nicolas Fabri de Peiresc, councillor at the parliament of Aix and a native of Beaugensier, was informed of Kircher’s researches. When he learned that my master was
already well known for his knowledge of hieroglyphs, he insisted on meeting him.

A strange man, this Provençal country squire: fascinated by the sciences & the friend of some of the most distinguished scholars, he had conceived a passion for the antiquities of Egypt and their enigmatic script. He spent a fortune acquiring any object of importance in that area. Not long previously Father Minutius, a missionary in Egypt & the Levant, had offered him a papyrus roll covered in hieroglyphs that had been found in a sarcophagus, at the feet of a mummy. Peiresc had great hopes of Kircher’s ability to translate the pages and wrote inviting him to stay with him in Aix, at the same time sending him, as a gift, several rare books and a copy of the
Table of Isis
, also called the
Bembine Table
. As a postscript he asked him to bring with him the famous manuscript of Barachias Abenephuis, which Athanasius had been fortunate enough to acquire.

Kircher was flattered by this keen interest & one day in September 1633 we travelled to Aix, with said manuscript in our luggage as well as various specimens of the Hebrew, Chaldaean, Arabic and Samaritan languages.

Peiresc welcomed us with a charm & delight such as is rarely seen. He was proud to meet my master & did everything he could to make himself agreeable to him. Kircher, for his part, was very impressed by the collections his host revealed to him little by little, making the most of its effects & enjoying our sincere admiration. His house was crammed full with all kinds of dried or stuffed animals, but equally with a multitude of Egyptian artifacts & books. There for the first time we saw a phoenicopterus, an aspic, a horned viper, a lotus & any number of dried & mummified cats. In his garden he showed us several pink laurels, which he had grown from a shoot given him by Cardinal Barberini, as well as a pond with graceful papyrus
all around from which he made paper in the manner of the Egyptians. We also admired a kind of little rabbit, the size of a mouse, which walked on its hind legs & used it front paws, which were shorter, like monkeys to hold the food it was given, & an angora cat Father Gilles de Loche had brought back from Cairo for him as well as various manuscripts obtained at great expense from the Coptic monasteries of Wadi el-Natrun.