A Chapter of Hats by Machado De Assis

Author:Machado De Assis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2014-01-28T16:00:00+00:00

The Fortune-Teller

Hamlet observes to horatio that there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in his philosophy. The lovely Rita gave this same explanation to young Camilo, one Friday in November 1869, when he was laughing at her for having consulted a fortune-teller the day before; the only difference was that she used other words to express the idea.

‘Go on, laugh if you want. That’s men for you; they don’t believe in anything. Well, I did go, and she knew why I was consulting her even before I’d told her. She’d hardly begun to lay out the cards when she said to me, “You’re fond of someone …” I confessed I was, and then she went on laying out the cards, put them in order, and then told me I was frightened you’d forget me, but there was no need …’

‘Wrong!’ Camilo interrupted, laughing.

‘Don’t say that, Camilo. If you knew how I’ve been lately, because of you. You know; I’ve told you. Don’t laugh at me, don’t laugh …’

Camilo took hold of her hands, and gazed at her with a serious, steady look. He swore he really loved her, that these were childish fears; in any case, if she was at all fearful, he was the best fortune-teller to come to. Then he reproached her, and said it was imprudent to go to houses like that. Vilela might get to know about it, and then …

‘Not a chance! I took great care as I went in.’

‘Where’s the house?’

‘Near here, in the Rua da Guarda Velha; there was no one in the street at the time. Don’t worry; I’m not crazy.’

Camilo laughed again:

‘Do you really believe in that kind of thing?’ he asked her.

That was when, without knowing she was translating Hamlet into common speech, she told him that there are lots of mysterious things in the world that are true. If he didn’t believe her, fine; but the truth is that the fortune-teller had divined everything. What more did he want? The proof is that now she was calm and contented.

I think he was going to say something, but he stopped himself. He didn’t want to deprive her of her illusions. He too, when he was a boy, and even later in life, had been superstitious; he’d had a whole arsenal of absurd beliefs impressed on him by his mother, which disappeared when he was twenty. This parasitic vegetation then fell away, leaving only the main trunk of religion; but since he’d received both from his mother, he wrapped them up in the same doubt, and soon afterwards in a single total denial. Camilo believed in nothing. Why? He couldn’t say; he didn’t have a single argument, and limited himself to denying everything. Even that isn’t right, because denying something is still a kind of affirmation, and he didn’t put his disbelief into words; faced by life’s mystery, he was happy to shrug his shoulders and carry on as before.

They went their separate ways; each of them was happy, he even more than she.

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