here with it. I also have a very funny story, he
said, a story that will make you roar with laughter. That’s no good either, I said, I
don’t feel like roaring with laughter. The Seller of Stories sighed. You’re very
hard to please, he said. Look, I said, just tell me what you’ve got on offer and how
much each story costs. I have a dream story for two hundred
escudos
, he said, a
really bizarre one. No, that won’t do, I said, I don’t want anything bizarre, my
whole day has been bizarre in the extreme. And finally, I have a children’s story for
three hundred
escudos
, he said, the sort of story people used to tell their children
to send them to sleep, it’s not exactly a fairy story but it tells of a magical world,
of a mermaid who used to work in a circus and who fell in love with a fisherman from Ericeira,
it’s a really nice story, a bit melancholy, with a sad ending that will make you cry.
All right, my friend, I said, perhaps I need to cry a bit tonight, tell me the story about the
mermaid, I’m going to close my eyes and listen as if I were a child about to fall
asleep.
The ferry coming back from Cacilhas sounded its siren as it came alongside the quay. The
night really was magnificent, with the moon hanging so low over the arches of Terreiro do
Paço that you felt you could have reached out your hand and caught hold of it. I lit a
cigarette and settled down to watch the moon and the Seller of Stories began his story.
IX
THE WAITER HAD his
hair tied back in a small pony-tail, he was wearing a pair of extremely tight trousers and a
pink shirt. I’m Mariazinha, he said with a brilliant smile and then, addressing my
guest, he asked: You haven’t got anything against people like me, have you? My Guest
looked Mariazinha up and down and asked me in English:
Is he mad
? No, I said, I
don’t think so, he’s gay.
Can homosexuals be gay
?, asked my Guest,
what is all this about
? But Botto 1 was
gay, I said, you should know that, you were his friend.
Botto wasn’t gay
, he
said,
he was an aesthete, it’s not the same thing at all
.
Is your friend English? Mariazinha asked me, I can’t cope with the English,
they’re so boring! No, I said, my guest isn’t English, he’s Portuguese but
he lived in South Africa, he likes speaking English, he’s a poet. That’s all right
then, said Mariazinha, I love people who can speak other languages, I can speak Spanish, I
learned it in Estremoz, I worked at the Pousada Santa Isabel,
¿les gusta Estremoz,
caballeros?
My Guest looked at Mariazinha again and said:
He’s mad
. No,
I said, I don’t think he is, I’ll explain later. Anyway here’s the wine
list, said Mariazinha, the menu’s all here in my little head, I’ll tell you what
there is later when you’re ready to order, I’ll leave you now,
caballeros
, I have to see to that big boy all by himself over there, he must be dying
of hunger.
Mariazinha walked off, hips swaying, to attend to the needs of a gentleman sitting on his own
at a corner table. Where have you brought me?, asked my Guest, what sort of place is this? I
don’t know, I said, it’s the first time I’ve been here, someone recommended
it to me, it’s supposed to be post-modern, and if you’ll forgive me, you may be
partly to blame for all this, I mean for postmodernism. I don’t understand, said my
Guest. Well, I went on, I was thinking of the avant-garde movement, about the effect it had. I
still don’t understand, said my Guest. Well, I said, how can I put it, it was the
avant-garde movement that first upset the balance, and things like that leave a mark. But this
is all so vulgar, he said, we had elegance. That’s what you think, I said, I don’t
agree, Futurism, for example, was vulgar, it celebrated noise and war, I think it had a vulgar
side to it, I’ll go further, there’s even something slightly vulgar about your own
Futurist odes.
said, a story that will make you roar with laughter. That’s no good either, I said, I
don’t feel like roaring with laughter. The Seller of Stories sighed. You’re very
hard to please, he said. Look, I said, just tell me what you’ve got on offer and how
much each story costs. I have a dream story for two hundred
escudos
, he said, a
really bizarre one. No, that won’t do, I said, I don’t want anything bizarre, my
whole day has been bizarre in the extreme. And finally, I have a children’s story for
three hundred
escudos
, he said, the sort of story people used to tell their children
to send them to sleep, it’s not exactly a fairy story but it tells of a magical world,
of a mermaid who used to work in a circus and who fell in love with a fisherman from Ericeira,
it’s a really nice story, a bit melancholy, with a sad ending that will make you cry.
All right, my friend, I said, perhaps I need to cry a bit tonight, tell me the story about the
mermaid, I’m going to close my eyes and listen as if I were a child about to fall
asleep.
The ferry coming back from Cacilhas sounded its siren as it came alongside the quay. The
night really was magnificent, with the moon hanging so low over the arches of Terreiro do
Paço that you felt you could have reached out your hand and caught hold of it. I lit a
cigarette and settled down to watch the moon and the Seller of Stories began his story.
IX
THE WAITER HAD his
hair tied back in a small pony-tail, he was wearing a pair of extremely tight trousers and a
pink shirt. I’m Mariazinha, he said with a brilliant smile and then, addressing my
guest, he asked: You haven’t got anything against people like me, have you? My Guest
looked Mariazinha up and down and asked me in English:
Is he mad
? No, I said, I
don’t think so, he’s gay.
Can homosexuals be gay
?, asked my Guest,
what is all this about
? But Botto 1 was
gay, I said, you should know that, you were his friend.
Botto wasn’t gay
, he
said,
he was an aesthete, it’s not the same thing at all
.
Is your friend English? Mariazinha asked me, I can’t cope with the English,
they’re so boring! No, I said, my guest isn’t English, he’s Portuguese but
he lived in South Africa, he likes speaking English, he’s a poet. That’s all right
then, said Mariazinha, I love people who can speak other languages, I can speak Spanish, I
learned it in Estremoz, I worked at the Pousada Santa Isabel,
¿les gusta Estremoz,
caballeros?
My Guest looked at Mariazinha again and said:
He’s mad
. No,
I said, I don’t think he is, I’ll explain later. Anyway here’s the wine
list, said Mariazinha, the menu’s all here in my little head, I’ll tell you what
there is later when you’re ready to order, I’ll leave you now,
caballeros
, I have to see to that big boy all by himself over there, he must be dying
of hunger.
Mariazinha walked off, hips swaying, to attend to the needs of a gentleman sitting on his own
at a corner table. Where have you brought me?, asked my Guest, what sort of place is this? I
don’t know, I said, it’s the first time I’ve been here, someone recommended
it to me, it’s supposed to be post-modern, and if you’ll forgive me, you may be
partly to blame for all this, I mean for postmodernism. I don’t understand, said my
Guest. Well, I went on, I was thinking of the avant-garde movement, about the effect it had. I
still don’t understand, said my Guest. Well, I said, how can I put it, it was the
avant-garde movement that first upset the balance, and things like that leave a mark. But this
is all so vulgar, he said, we had elegance. That’s what you think, I said, I don’t
agree, Futurism, for example, was vulgar, it celebrated noise and war, I think it had a vulgar
side to it, I’ll go further, there’s even something slightly vulgar about your own
Futurist odes.
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