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Authors: José Saramago

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The Collected Novels of José Saramago (429 page)

BOOK: The Collected Novels of José Saramago
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Early the following day, subhro returned to the encampment, this time with the elephant. He was accompanied by the two assistants, who had immediately climbed aboard the ox-cart, looking forward to the most pleasant of rides. The soldiers were awaiting the order to mount. The commanding officer went over to the mahout and said, This is where we go our separate ways, Well, I wish you and your men a good journey, captain, You and solomon still have a long journey ahead of you, it will be winter, I reckon, before you reach vienna, Solomon carries me on his back, so it won’t prove too tiring for me, Those lands, I’ve heard, are very cold, full of snow and ice, things you never had to suffer in lisbon, Although you must admit it could be chilly sometimes, sir, Yes, lisbon is, of course, the coldest city in the world, said the captain, smiling, what saves it from being so is its geographical position. Subhro smiled too, he was enjoying the conversation, they could stay there all morning and afternoon and leave the next day, what difference would it make, I wonder, to arrive home twenty-four hours later. It was then that the commanding officer decided to make his farewell speech, Soldiers, subhro has come to say goodbye to us, and to our great joy, he has brought with him the elephant whose safekeeping has been our responsibility for the last few weeks. Sharing my time with this man has been one of the happiest experiences of my life, perhaps because
india knows things that we do not. I couldn’t say with confidence that I know him well, but I can say with absolute certainty that he and I could be, not just friends, but brothers. Vienna is a long way away, lisbon is farther still, and we probably will not see each other again, and perhaps it’s better that way, to keep the recollection of these past days so that it can be said of us modest portuguese soldiers that we, too, have the memory of an elephant. The captain spoke for another fifteen or so minutes, but he had said what was most important. While he was speaking, subhro was wondering what solomon would do, if he would behave as he had when he said good-bye to the porters, but repetitions almost always disappoint, the shine goes off them, they noticeably lack spontaneity, and if spontaneity is lacking, so is everything else. It would be best if we simply parted, thought the mahout. The elephant, however, thought otherwise. When the speech had ended, and the captain came over to subhro in order to embrace him, solomon took two steps forward and with the end of his trunk, that vital, feeling lip, he touched the captain’s shoulder. The farewell to the porters had been, shall we say, more theatrical, but this, perhaps because the soldiers were used to a different sort of farewell, Do honor to your country, for your country’s eyes are upon you, that kind of thing, touched their hearts, and not a few, with some embarrassment, had to wipe away tears with the sleeve of their pea coat or jacket, or whatever they called that item of military clothing then. The mahout accompanied solomon on this inspection, which was also his way of saying goodbye. He was not a man to show his feelings in public, even when, as now, invisible tears are running down his cheeks. The column of men set off, with the ox-cart at the front, and that was that, we will not see them in this theater again, but such is life, the actors appear, then leave the stage, as is only fitting, it’s what usually and always will happen sooner or later, they say their part, then disappear through the door at the back, the one that opens onto the garden. Up ahead, the road curves, the soldiers rein in their horses in order to raise one arm and wave a last goodbye. Subhro does likewise and solomon trumpets in his loudest, most heartfelt way, and that is all they can do, the curtain has fallen and will not rise again.

It was raining on the morning of the third day, which was especially irritating for the archduke, because, although he did not lack for people to organize the convoy in the most useful and efficient way, he had insisted on deciding for himself just where in the cortège the elephant should be. This was a simple matter, suleiman would travel immediately in front of the carriage that would transport the archduke and the archduchess. A trusted confidant begged him to consider the well-known fact that elephants, like horses, for example, defecate and urinate while on the move, Such a spectacle will, inevitably, offend the sensibilities of your highnesses, said the confidant, adopting an expression of the profoundest civic concern, but the archduke told him not to worry, there would always be people in the convoy who could sweep the road whenever these natural depositions occurred. The worst thing was the rain. The rain would affect neither the mood nor the pace of the elephant, indeed, so accustomed was he to the monsoon that, for the last two years, he had missed it greatly, no, the problem requiring a solution was the archduke. It’s perfectly understandable really. Crossing half of spain behind an elephant and not being able to use what was, perhaps, the finest embroidered saddlecloth
in the world, which he himself had ordered to be made, simply because the rain would leave it so badly damaged that it wouldn’t even serve as the canopy for a village church, that, as far as the archduke was concerned, would be the worst disappointment of his entire reign as archduke. Maximilian would not move one step until suleiman was properly covered, with the ornate saddlecloth glinting in the sun. This is what he said, The rain is sure to stop at some point, so let us wait until it does. And so it was. The rain did not stop for two whole hours, but after that, the sky began to clear, there were still a few clouds, but not so dark, and suddenly, it stopped raining, and when the sun finally showed itself, the air, in those first rays, grew lighter, almost transparent. The archduke was so pleased that he allowed himself to give the archduchess’s thigh a mischievous squeeze. Then, having recovered his composure, he summoned an aide-de-camp whom he ordered to gallop to the head of the convoy, to where the glittering cuirassiers were waiting, Tell them to set off at once, he said, we have to make up for lost time. Meanwhile, the relevant servants had arrived bearing the vast saddlecloth and, with some difficulty, following fritz’s instructions, they spread it over suleiman’s powerful back. Then fritz, wearing a suit of clothes, which, in quality of fabric and luxury of cut, far outshone the one he had brought with him from lisbon and which had made such a dent in the treasury’s coffers, was lifted onto suleiman’s back, from where, to front and rear, he enjoyed an imposing view of the whole convoy. No one was above him, not even the archduke of austria with all his power. The archduke might be able to change the names of a man and an elephant, but with his eyes at the level of the most ordinary of people, he was being car ried
along inside a carriage where all the perfumes in the world could not quite disguise the foul smells wafting in from without. You will probably want to know whether this whole convoy will be going to vienna. The answer is no. Most of those traveling here in great state will go no further than the seaport of the town of rosas, near the french border. There they will say farewell to the archduke and archduchess, will doubtless watch the embarkation, and, above all, observe with some trepidation what effect suleiman’s four brute tons will have on the ship, if its quarterdeck will withstand such a weight, or if they will have to return to valladolid with the tale of a shipwreck to tell. The gloomier among them foresee the damage that could be caused to the vessel and its safety if the elephant, alarmed by the swaying of the boat, became nervous and unable to keep its footing, I don’t even want to think about it, they said woefully to their companions, savoring the possibility of being able to announce later on, I told you so. Ignore those wet blankets, this elephant has come from far away, from distant india, fearlessly facing the storms of the indian ocean and the atlantic, and here he is, steadfast and determined, as if he had never done anything all his life but travel by boat. Now, though, it is a matter of covering distances, long distances. A glance at the map is enough to make you feel tired. And yet it looks as if everything were so close, within easy reach, so to speak. The explanation, of course, lies in the scale. It’s easy to accept that a centimeter on the map equals twenty kilometers in reality, but what we tend not to consider is that, in the process, we ourselves suffer an equivalent dimensional reduction, which is why, being but specks on the earth’s surface, we are still smaller on maps. It would be interesting to know, for ex ample, how much a human foot would measure on that same scale. Or the foot of an elephant. Or archduke maximilian of austria’s entire entourage.

Only two days had passed and already the cortège had lost much of its splendor. The persistent rain that fell on the morning of their departure had dire effects on the draperies of both coaches and carriages, but also on the clothes of those who, in the line of duty, had to brave the elements for longer or shorter periods of time. Now the convoy is traveling through a region where it appears not to have rained since the world began. The dust begins to rise up at the passing of the cuirassiers, whom the rain had not spared either, for a breastplate is not a hermetically sealed box, its component parts do not always fit perfectly together and the chains connecting them leave gaps through which swords and spears can easily penetrate, in the end, all that splendor, proudly displayed in figueira de castelo rodrigo, is of little practical use. Then comes a huge line of carts, wagons, coaches and carriages of all types and for all purposes, whether carrying baggage or transporting squadrons of servants, and they raise still more dust which, for lack of wind, will hang in the air until close of day. This time those in charge failed to observe the precept that the speed of the slowest should determine the speed of the whole convoy. The two ox-carts laden with the elephant’s food and water were relegated to the rear of the cortège, which means that every now and then the whole convoy has to stop so that the laggards can catch up. What really gets on everyone’s nerves, starting with the archduke, who can barely disguise his irritation, is suleiman’s obligatory afternoon nap, a rest that benefits only him, but which, in the end, they all take advantage of, not that this prevents
them complaining, At this rate we’ll never arrive. The first time that the convoy stopped and word went round that this was because suleiman had to rest, the archduke summoned fritz to ask just who did he think was in charge, well, he didn’t put the question quite like that, an archduke of austria would never stoop so low as to admit that anyone other than himself could possibly be in charge wherever he happened to be, but even given the decidedly popular tone in which we have couched the question, the only appropriate response would have been for fritz, out of shame, to have prostrated himself on the ground. Over the days, though, we have had occasion to note that subhro is not a man to be easily cowed, and now, in his new incarnation, it is difficult, if not impossible, to imagine him struck dumb by an attack of timidity, with his tail between his legs, saying, What are your orders, sir. His reply was exemplary, Unless the archduke of austria delegates his authority, absolute power belongs to him by right and tradition, as is acknowledged by his subjects, both natural and, as in my own case, acquired, You speak like a scholar, Oh, I am merely a mahout who has read a little of life’s book, What’s this business with suleiman, what’s all this about him having to rest during the early part of the afternoon, That is the custom in india, sir, We’re in spain now, not india, If your highness knew elephants as I believe I do, you would know that india exists wherever an indian elephant happens to be, and I am not speaking here of african elephants, of whom I have no experience, and that same india will, whatever happens, always remain intact inside him, That’s all very well, but I have a long journey ahead of me and that elephant is making me lose three or four hours a day, from now on, suleiman will rest for one hour and one hour only,
Regretfully, your highness, and believe me, I feel an utter wretch not to be able to agree with you, one hour will not be enough, We’ll see. The order was given, but swiftly canceled the following day. We have to be logical, fritz was saying, just as I would not expect anyone to think it a good idea to reduce by one third the amount of food and water suleiman needs to live, I cannot agree, without protest, to taking away from him the larger part of his deserved rest, without which he could not survive the huge effort demanded of him each day, it’s true that an elephant in the indian jungle walks many kilometers from dawn till dusk, but there he is in his own land, not in this bleak place without enough shade to accommodate a cat. Let us not forget that when fritz was called subhro he raised no objection to solomon’s rest being reduced from four hours to two, but those were different times, the captain of the portuguese cavalry was a man with whom one could speak, a friend, not an authoritarian archduke, who, aside from being charles the fifth’s son-in-law, has no other obvious merits to recommend him. Fritz was being unfair, he should at least have felt obliged to acknowledge that no one had ever treated suleiman as had this now despised archduke of austria. Think only of that saddlecloth. Not even elephants owned by rajahs in india were spoiled like that. Nevertheless, the archduke was not happy, there was too much rebellion in the air for his liking. Punishing fritz for his dialectical boldness would be more than justified, but the archduke knows perfectly well that he would not find another mahout in vienna. And if, by some miracle, that rara avis should exist, there would have to be an interim period during which he and the elephant got to know each other, otherwise there could be no saying how such a large animal would
behave, for as far as any human being was concerned, archdukes included, predicting his mind was like placing an entirely random bet with few prospects of winning. The elephant was, in truth, a completely alien being. So much so that he had nothing whatever to do with this world, he governed himself by rules that would not fit any known moral code, to the point that, as soon became evident, he couldn’t care less whether he traveled in front of or behind the archducal coach. The archduke and archduchess could no longer bear the repeated spectacle of suleiman’s dejecta, not to mention having to breathe in the fetid odors that these gave off, their delicate nostrils being accustomed to very different aromas. In fact, the archduke wanted to punish fritz not the elephant, who was now relegated to a secondary position after a few days of seeming to everyone present to be one of the grand figures of the entourage. He is still near the head of the convoy, but now he will never see anything but the rear of the archduke’s coach. Fritz suspects that he is being punished, but he can’t plead for justice because that same justice, in deciding to change the position of the elephant in the convoy, was merely preventing the sensorial discomforts caused to archduke maximilian and his wife, maria, daughter of charles the fifth. Having resolved that problem, the other problem was also resolved, and that very night too. Cheered to see the elephant demoted to the status of mere follower, maria asked her husband to relieve suleiman of the saddlecloth, I think that wearing it on his back is a punishment poor suleiman does not deserve, and besides, Besides what, asked the archduke, Once one has got over the shock of seeing such a large, imposing animal clothed in what looks like some kind of ecclesiastical vestment, the sight rapidly be comes ridiculous, grotesque, and the longer one looks at him, the more grotesque he becomes, It was my idea, said the archduke, but I think you’re right, I’ll have the saddlecloth sent to the bishop of valladolid, I’m sure he’ll find some use for it, and I’m sure, too, that if we were to stay in spain, we would have the pleasure of seeing one of the best-dressed generals of our holy mother church processing beneath a saddlecloth turned canopy.

BOOK: The Collected Novels of José Saramago
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