Found in Translation by Frank Wynne

Author:Frank Wynne [Wynne, Frank]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781786695284
Publisher: Head of Zeus

A CONVERSATION IN ST. JAMES’S PARK

Josep Pla

Translated from the Catalan by Peter Bush

Josep Pla i Casadevall (1897–1981). A Catalan journalist and author, Josep Pla spent his formative years working as a reporter throughout Europe and Russia. Living under dictatorship for most of his life, he was briefly exiled by Primo de Rivera for a critical article he wrote about the Spanish military policy in Morocco. During the Franco period, a literary prize was established, under his name, for works written and published in Catalan. La increíble historia del Dr. Floït & Mr. Pla, a 1997 play, recreates the characters Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, pitting a Catalan industrialist obsessed with wealth against an educated and indulgent writer, based on Pla.

One afternoon in March when strolling through St. James’s Park with my friend Vinyals, I wrestled with the idea of justice. Vinyals was in London to perfect his skills as a dentist, although he’d already qualified and could remove and insert teeth scientifically, with impunity. He was an easy-going, eminently sensible young man who kept abreast of the latest trends and sported a trim mustache.

We were walking leisurely past the wrought-iron gate that closed the fence surrounding the lake. An astonishing sight suddenly halted Vinyals in his tracks. Motionless on the mown grass the other side of the gate, a penguin was opening and closing its long, weary brute of a beak. We stopped opposite the bizarre animal and were shocked to see that the penguin had just stunned and caught a sparrow it was now softening up for consumption. It kept opening and closing the hard, elongated funnel of its beak, and, under the impact, the sparrow gradually assumed a highly flattened disposition. Passersby stopped to watch the bizarre spectacle and were quite upset. The creature toiled perhaps for two minutes. With a greedy look in its bloodshot eyes, it labored away, apparently ignoring its audience. It might possibly have turned around if they’d tried to snatch its prey … In any case, when it felt the sparrow was soft enough it stretched its neck and swallowed it without a second thought. A lump appeared beneath its mouth that slowly slipped down its gullet. Then it twitched its head, twisted its neck and the sparrow entered its body. Nothing remained of the bird: beak, toenails, feathers were all thought worthy of digestion. My impression was that the animal had enjoyed every morsel, for it preened itself for a moment before flapping its wings like a gypsy flamenco dancer about to dance a sevillana. The penguin finally waddled a few steps over the damp grass and we watched it totter off into the distance with a solemn yet sprightly air.

“My dear Vinyals,” I commented as the onlookers drifted disconsolately away, “I believe we have just witnessed a performance that was both instructive and dramatic. The penguin swallowed the sparrow as easily as we swallow a sugar lump before drinking a cup of coffee. The act itself is most regrettable. Sparrows are

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