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Authors: Louis-Ferdinand Celine

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Castle to Castle (36 page)

BOOK: Castle to Castle
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"Boo! Boo! flatfoot! . . . go get yourself buggered . . . in Berlin! Slug! . . . Garbage pail! . . ."

The whole landing was yelling . . . but they let him through . . . him and his card file . . . clutched tight . . . he shows it to them! he thumps on it! . . . "Yes, this is my card file! . . . you stupid bastards! . . . and everybody in Siegmaringen is in it! . . . nitwits! . . . I'll entertain them in Berlin! . . . I, Neuneuil! fishing for trout! Ha!"

He looks back, up toward the landing . . . he shakes his fist at Raumnitz! . . . he defies him! . . . the
Obercopführer!
. . . . and those characters who'd been advising him to go spank him . . . all of a sudden . . .
zip!
. . . they change their minds . . . the fun's over . . . they let Neuneuil leave . . . the hysterical stupid bigmouth! . . . he could wear out Raumnitz's patience! a guy like that is a menace! He had no trouble getting down the stairs . . . they let him through all right! . . . like they'd let the cholera through! they let him split with his card file! . . . nobody holds him back, nobody! the crowd melts away . . . not a peep . . . they all go down to the
Stam
. . . the Strasbourgeois, the
Volkssturm
, the housewives . . . a minute ago bedlam outside our door . . . people for me, people for the crapper . . . Suddenly a vacuum! All of a sudden they couldn't even stand the sight of Neuneuil! . . . nobody left on the landing but me . . . he calls me from downstairs . . . to come down . . . he wanted to speak to me . . . I go down . . .

"What do you say, Doctor? You saw them! . . . they've got the green shits, the whole lot of them! . . . and that stinker up there, Doctor! .'. . the brute! the stupid bastard! fishing for trout! he's liquidated me! Okay! He's shipping me out . . . he'll see me again! . . . ah, he thinks he's getting rid of me! you'll see me again too, Doctor! I embrace you!"

He was in tears . . . he really shoves off . . . not in the direction of the station . . . or in the opposite direction . . . the
Fidelis
. . . oh no! . . . the road that goes up the hill . . . the road to Berlin . . . to the right as you leave the hotel, then left . . .
Herzoggasse
. . . the little alley . . . I motion to the
schuppo
at the door . . . that it's okay . . . he should let him go . . . the
schuppo
had wanted to turn him back . . .
nein! nein!
. . . that he's going to Berlin for Raumnitz! . . . on foot! . . . that it's absolutely secret! Hush! Hush! I motion him to tell the other
schuppo
. . . the one across the street . . . top secret! . . . and I talk to the
schuppo
. . .
"Raumnitz befehl!
. . .
gut! gut!
. . .". . . it's okay! they let Neuneuil pass . . . he shoves off . . . very chipper, I've got to admit . . . at a good clip, with his card file under his arm . . . "Good luck, Doctor!" . . . He's all alone on the road . . . he disappears not far away . . . behind the trees . . . the trees right after the
Prinzenbau
. . . the road uphill . . .

Hell, I didn't want to go out . . . but I had to . . . not the same day but the next . . . to get the scraps for Bébert . . . and while I was at the
Landrat's
, drop in on Madame Bonnard . . . I've told you about her, my aged patient, ninety-six years old, very frail and delicate, very sick . . . what charm! what distinction! what a memory! Legouvé by heart! all his poetry! . . . all Musset . . . all Marivaux . . . it was pleasant in her room, I stayed to listen to her, I kept her company, she charmed me . . . I admired her . . . I've got to admit, I haven't admired women much in spite of my skirt-chasing life . . . but there I was appreciative . . . I don't know if Arletty will affect me the same way later on . . . maybe . . . the great feminine mystery has nothing to do with ass . . . The Baudeloque and Tarnier clinics, all the maternity hospitals in the world, are chock-full of feminine mysteries . . . that spawn, bleed, confess, and scream! no mystery at all! the real feminine mystery is a different wavelength much more subtle than "cunts and loving hearts" . . . a kind of background music . . . not so easy to tune in on . . . Madame Bonnard, the only patient I ever lost, had those fine lacy waves . . . how well she recited Du Bellay . . . Charles d'Orleans . . . Louise Labe . . . with her I almost came to understand certain waves . . . my novels would be entirely different . . . she's gone . . .

Getting back to our
Löwen
. . . after Neuneuil's departure we had a practically quiet week . . . only three air-raid alarms . . . and two emergencies at the
Fidelis
. . . not bad . . . but it was starting to get cold . . . October 1944 . . . so they dreamed up a magnificent idea at the castle . . . far-sighted . . . "firewood commandos" . . . it consisted of sending volunteers to pick up sticks, dead wood, and stumps and bring it all back in enormous bundles . . . the volunteers were all in harness . . . hauling the stuff back! on the double! let's go! . . . men and women, young and old! all in harness! and singing! Volunteers? a manner of speaking . . . willing . . . not willing? Same difference . . . all in harness . . . the Firewood Commandos . . . raise the morale of the hesitant . . . "Strength through Joy!" . . . the great Fourth Reich is dead with all its people and houses and Beethoven too! "Strength through Joy" chorus! Symphonic nation! Christ! Your Frenchman isn't very symphonic, those joyous "all out for brushwood" commandos made them more skeptical than ever . . . they'd hide under their beds . . . especially because the place they were taken to was in the middle of the Black Forest right near Cissen, the camp where they sent our babies . . . that was the site picked for the voluntary labors of the forest commandos . . . the pioneer brushwood collectors . . .

Their civilian occupation didn't matter . . . what counted was their good will . . . they should bring back all the wood, the whole forest, every dead twig, for the winter . . . that's all we'd have! the town halls . . . Boche and French . . . had warned us! no fuel allotment . . . we shouldn't expect any . . .

Hell, there was still a war going on . . . no time to argue . . . a wood-burning truck waited for the volunteers outside the town hall (
Prinzenbau
) . . . at a rather early hour, six-fifteen . . . it took them out . . . not back . . . had to get back by their own resources . . . sportsmen autonomous . . harnessed to tree trunks . . . the Volga . . . Buchenwald . . the Great Wall of China . . . Nasser and the Pyramids . . the same racket! swift kicks in the ass are nothing new! . . . a job of work! and in cadence! . . . and no goldbricking! . . . heave ho! Volga barges, Pyramids!
heave! ho!
The "volunteers" were expected to report at six-fifteen . . . outside our town hall (the
Prinzenbau
) . . .

"Ah, Céline! . . . Céline! . . . my dear Céline! . . . you're the man I've been looking for! . . ."

At last I had a chance to go out . . . nobody on the landing . . . everybody in the restaurant . . .

"Ah, Céline! . . . Céline!"

I said to myself: the nut's coming up here! . . . and not alone . . . with a lady . . . a young lady . . . they've come up to see me . . . I let them in . . .

"Céline . . . Céline . . . I need you . . . I've just come from Brinon's . . . he's given his okay . . . you'll do the scenario . . . naturally I'll do the dialogue! . . . it's in the bag . . . I've just seen Laval, he's all for it! I'm the producer and director, see? are you with us? . . . we're getting a camera from Leipzig! . . . the Russians have given their okay, ah, Céline, that authorization from the Russians, you can't imagine! But I've finally got it!"

He beats his breast . . . his pocket . . . where he keeps his billfold . . . with the authorization . . .

"I'll do it all myself . . . the cutting . . . the dialogue . . . everything! . . . the trouble we've had . . . Leipzig, imagine! . . . Leipzig! but you'll be quick about your scenario! very quick, Céline! I've got to see Laval again tomorrow! it's got to be ready! he's given his okay . . ."

The lady . . . his wife no doubt . . . didn't say a word . . . she lets him talk . . . he talks all right . . . the vehemence! the flow! he can't keep still! . . . one foot! . . . the other foot . . . he marks time . . . and revolves! . . . and gesticulates! . . . the passion, the frenzy! . . . as if he were selling something! . . . ah, suddenly he stops short . . . he realizes . . .

"Oh, forgive me . . . forgive me . . . forgive me, Céline . . . I'd forgotten my wife! . . . our star! . . . she's going to be our star . . . let me introduce you . . . Odette Clarisse . . ."

"Bonjour, Madame!"

I hadn't really looked at her . . . but her hat! not a bad little dip . . . panama with flowers . . . and a veil! . . . can you imagine? a veil? . . . at that moment in history? . . . in Germany at that time!

"Odette will be our star . . . it's settled . . . Brinon is agreed."

"Oh, splendid, splendid!"

"Odette, say hello to Madame Céline!"

Not a bad little number . . . I take a better look . . . she's dressed like a star . . . a star of the period, half-Marlene, half-Arletty . . . close-fitting skirt . . . the smile, too . . . a star! sure thing! that smile! . . . half-pixie, half-"I am going to commit suicide" . . . it was certainly the right time to end it all . . . but there was still a mystery . . . how had he come by a flowery hat with a veil, alligator shoes, handbag ditto, and sheer silk stockings in a Germany on fire? . . . that must have been quite an undertaking! outfitting this cutie! . . . when in all Germany right then you couldn't find a hairpin! . . . where had he come by all that? . . . and how had he brought his star here from Dresden? . . . and not only the girl . . . the way they were both spiffed out! . . . him in corduroy riding breeches," turtleneck sweater, leather puttees, shoes with triple soles! really a mystery! . . . and brushed and polished! . . . spotless . . . both of them . . . ready for the cameras . . . I knew him from the
Fidelis
; I'd treated him for sinus trouble . . . and here he was, completely cured! health! vitality! . . . tops! . . . Raoul . . . that was his name . . . Raoul Orphize . . . he'd gone to Dresden . . . the Mecca of the arts, meanwhile burned down . . . 200,000 dead . . . they'd left Dresden for Munich . . . and then Leipzig . . . and then back again to Dresden . . . Dresden in ashes! and now he was going to make a movie in Siegmaringen . . . oh, he'd thought it all out . . . the sequences, the rhythm! . . . I had only to follow his ideas, his cine-technic construction . . . "daily life in Siegmaringen" . . . Brinon at work . . . the printing press and editorial office of the newspaper La France, the editors at work . . . "Radio-Siegmar" broadcasting; the studio, the technicians . . . the
Milice
drilling! . . . and myself with patients! Pétain, his outing! . . . children playing! . . . and fathers and mothers playing too, playing bowls! joy forever! good humor!
Kraft dutch Freude!
everywhere and always! Joy!

"I hear you've been depressed, Céline . . . is that true?"

"Of course not! Not at all! Good gracious! not depressed! even keel, that's the word! . . . my profession! . . . serious! . . . perhaps a little overworked! . . . but no more! . . . no more, Orphize!"

I don't want him to go blabbing all over the place . . . Orphize looks very much like a cop to me—if he wants to know . . . I won't tell him . . . people with high morale always scare me in the first place . . . and in the second place the way he's dressed? . . . where's he come from? . . . with all that stuff? brand new! . . . that jacket? breeches, puttees, shoes with triple soles? he was in rags like the rest of us at the Fidelis . . . and all that vim and vigor and that "ensemble" of hers? . . . the little plaid skirt, the embroidered blouse . . . where'd all that stuff come from? . . . made me think . . . memories . . . of the market in Chatou in 1900 . . . the little girls with their mothers . . .

BOOK: Castle to Castle
3.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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