The Yellow Arrow (New Directions Paperbook) by Pelevin Victor

Author:Pelevin, Victor [Pelevin, Victor]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780811225090
Publisher: New Directions
Published: 2009-05-04T16:00:00+00:00

4

As always, Andrei was woken by the radio— a boundless baritone reciting poetry:

“She lies and stares as if still living

Front the embankment ditch out there

A lovely girl with colored kerchief

Tied loosely round her braided hair.

The train went rumbling on as usual

Its coaches juddering and creaking,

First class and Second were silent,

Third class was filled with songs and weeping….”

Petr Sergeievich was still snoring. Andrei glanced out of the window. The sky was low and grey, and it was misty with rain—the small drops splattered against the glass.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in!”

The conductor brought in their tea. He put the glasses on the table, picked up the hundred-ruble note and closed the nickel-plated lock of the door behind him with a click.

The click woke Petr Sergeievich. Instead of turning back to face the wall and go to sleep for another couple of hours as usual, he sprang up and supported himself on his elbow, staring at Andrei with a crazy expression on his face.

“You were snoring again last night,” said Andrei.

“Yes? Did you whistle?”

“Of course I did,” answered Andrei.

“What time is it?” asked Petr Sergeievich.

“Half past nine.”

Petr Sergeievich swore, leapt to his feet and began hastily combing his hair; Andrei now saw that he’d slept in his suit, complete with a tie.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” asked Andrei.

“Business,” said Petr Sergeievich, shoving under his arm a worn leather briefcase that Andrei hadn’t seen him touch for three years, and dashed out into the corridor. Andrei turned to face the wall and closed his eyes. The poetry on the radio was over, and the announcements had begun. Andrei turned the volume control counter-clockwise as far as it would go, but the voices were still clearly audible.

“All of us look forward to a better day,” sang a children’s choir, “as the Blue Car goes rolling on its way.” “The ‘Blue Car’ company,” proclaimed an excited contralto voice in follow-up, “Our train is a real express!”

That was Grisha’s advertisement. Then the speaker gave out a squeaking noise, and a jolly male voice announced: “Try a ‘Combat’ cigarette—it’s the greatest feeling yet.” Then there was a long pause, followed eventually by “Morning Cinema.”

“Today we shall be discussing Japanese director Akira Kurosawa’s film Dodeskaden,’’ the announcer said in a nasal voice. “Made in 1970, the film is based on a short novel by Akutagawa Ryūnosuke, The Rhythm of Invisible Wheels. In fact, the very title of the film in Japanese is a representation of the sound of wheels hammering against the rails. So close your eyes and imagine it is early morning in a post-war Japanese compartment car. Doors are banging as people hurry out into the corridor on their way to work. The famous sun of Japan is shining brightly outside the windows darkened by the smoke of recent battles. Suddenly, there among the crowd, is the first of the film’s heroes, the one who is known in his car as ‘the streetcar madman.’ This young man imagines that he

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