62 by Julio Cortázar

62 by Julio Cortázar

Author:Julio Cortázar [Cortázar, Julio]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-8112-2504-5
Publisher: New Directions
Published: 2013-01-16T16:00:00+00:00


On Wednesday the anonymous neurotics mysteriously appeared in greater numbers than on other days at the Courtauld Institute, and just when the possibility of advance in some interesting direction was arising, a notice came for Marrast from Customs setting that same Wednesday for the shipment of the oilcloth stone which had still not abandoned Her Majesty’s territory. In Ronaldo’s espresso place around the corner from the Gresham Hotel, the matter was discussed in the midst of spaghetti and vari-colored types of ice cream, because in principle no one felt like taking Marrast’s place on the sofa in the second gallery of the museum. It was announced therefore that my paredros had discovered a bar on the Victoria Embankment which demanded almost obligatory attendance and that Polanco had to look for a spring that very afternoon, one which was absolutely essential to his experiments. It was soon obvious that Calac and Nicole were the least occupied, as no one took into account Nicole’s obligations to the editor of the encyclopedia or the literary texts that Calac had to send off to the River Plate or similar regions. Poor Austin, who showed himself most anxious to cooperate, had been eliminated from the start, because he hadn’t arrived at a complete understanding of the question of Tilly Kettle’s painting, without getting into the matter that, as a former anonymous neurotic, his testimony might be considered as tainted with subjectivism and partiality. If that were not enough, the day before Austin had confessed to his French teacher and to Polanco that as a socialist he found the activities of the group useless at best, if not downright dangerous; along with the conjugation of the verb jouir, chosen especially on Polanco’s advice, Marrast had been forced to endure demands for the education of the masses and help for the fight against racism. Even now, between every trip of fork to spaghetti, some more or less confused remains of them were heard: You people have no right to waste your time like that / Put some salt on it, it’s repugnant / But don’t you realize that this, too, is a way of leading humanity along more vital paths? / I really miss the bread in Paris, oh Lord! / They put ketchup on everything here / It’s a very strange impulse, I won’t deny you that / The stranger it is, all the more effective, you know, men aren’t beetles / What do events in the Congo mean for you people, then? / Of course, Austin, of course / Or in Alabama? / We’re quite familiar with all that. Polanco has a direct line to Dr. King / What about the Cuban question, then? / We know all about Cuba in detail, and, in any case, we didn’t sell them a fleet of buses that sank later on, ship and all / Histrionics, that’s what all this is / Quite possible, lutanist, but what were you doing before you met us and our histrionics? /



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