Asylum Piece by Anna Kavan

Author:Anna Kavan
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 978-0-7206-1796-2
Publisher: Perseus Books, LLC

Asylum Piece

ASYLUM PIECE

I

The scene is set exactly like a stage upon which a light comedy, something airy and gay, is about to be acted. At the back can be seen part of the ground floor of a mansion with doors right and left opening upon a wide terrace where tables and chairs are arranged. In front, a flight of shallow stone steps leads down to the garden. Large pillars of light-coloured stone support the roof of the terrace. At each end, beyond the final column, the walls of the house can be seen covered by creepers which are a mass of brilliant orange and purple flowers. Some of the full-blown flower trumpets have been carried by the wind on to the steps where they lie as if strewn for the feet of a bridal procession. The foreground, which in a theatre would be the auditorium, consists of an enormous view over falling ground with a lake in the middle distance and mountains beyond. The whole vista is flooded with dazzling midsummer sunshine.

At first there is no one to be seen. A flock of pigeons circles round twice with flashing wings and vanishes into the upper blue.

The door at the right extremity of the terrace opens and a number of people emerge. They are well-dressed men and women of varying ages who stand about or sit in groups round the tables. They have just finished lunch. Some are smoking, some have coffee cups in their hands. The most striking thing about them is their silence. Only a few talk together; the others seem abstracted, or as if suspended, as if waiting to be told what to do. After a few moments they start to drift slowly across the terrace and vanish one after another through the door on the left. A grey-haired woman who appears to be in a position of authority is seen to be shepherding them along. She settles a group of four at a table on the extreme left and gives them a pack of cards which one of them deals in a perfunctory fashion.

A stout man in a dark suit occupies the most comfortable chair in the middle of the terrace. He is about forty years old, slightly bald, and has a round, red, cheerful face. He unfolds a newspaper and starts to read. Something, it is not easy to say what, distinguishes him from the people who have lately passed by. Perhaps it is merely that he is exempt from the domination of the grey-haired woman. He is the Professor.

After a minute or two, the door on the left opens and three new figures emerge with a somewhat stealthy appearance: they have an obvious air of having evaded authority. At the sight of the Professor, whom they had not expected to find there, they hesitate uncertainly, but he smiles at them over his paper and waves them forward with an indulgent gesture. Relieved, they advance past the card players, who glance up at them with faint curiosity, and then seat themselves on the top step of the terrace just in front of the Professor.

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