Hotel Brasil by Frei Betto

Hotel Brasil by Frei Betto

Author:Frei Betto
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781908524287
Publisher: Bitter Lemon Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


DISORDER

Bramante led Cândido round the side of the house to an annex above the garage.

“This is where I work,” said Bramante, welcoming his guest into the study. “That is, when I’m not stuck in some research lab or giving classes at the university.”

The place looked as if it had been struck by a tornado. Books lay scattered about the floor; papers and diagrams were piled up, gathering dust; slide rules rested on top of empty beer cans; magazines of artistic nudes spilled out over cushions; pipes and their detritus sat on top of computer disks; ashtrays overflowed. A photo of Picasso rehearsing flamenco steps poked out from amid the chaos, arms arched, hands on hips.

Cândido stopped himself from asking Bramante if he’d ever thought about getting a cleaner. The doutor motioned with his chin towards an armchair and Cândido sat down, obliged to share a seat with the complete works of Anaïs Nin. In spite of everything, Cândido was curious. He asked about the scientist’s background.

“The accent gives me away,” said Bramante, “I’m a southerner, a gaúcho, but I studied at São Paulo university, graduating first in philosophy and then in sexual biology. I discovered the difference between intellectual and vocational urges in the nick of time.” He spoke in a relaxed manner, totally different to the way he’d been at the restaurant.

“Have you always been a researcher?” asked Cândido.

The sexologist turned his face away and scratched his head.

“I gave classes for a few years. But the military stripped me of my university post. I don’t know why even to this day, as I’m quite the opposite of political. But anyway, I left the country and went to Geneva, where I got a grant to study as an intern at the European Centre for Sexual Research. When I got back to Brazil, several universities offered me jobs, but I made the mistake of accepting an invitation to become president of the government’s national commission for sexually transmitted diseases. I lasted a couple of months before resigning – in no uncertain terms – after clashing in the tourism department with businessmen who funded child prostitution. I… I…”

The scientist stopped and turned his head away, as if unable to find adequate words. He looked back at Cândido with forbidding eyes, then stretched out a hand and picked up an ivory-coloured pipe from a side table.

“Bem, let’s get down to work,” he said, rearranging himself in his armchair.

“At your service,” said Cândido. “So, what’s the gist of the first instalment?”

“What’s the gist?” Bramante said, perplexed. “I thought you provided the outline.”

Cândido gave a weak smile.

“I’ve been working on the spirituality part. You said on the phone you’d provide the outline for the sexuality part – by today.”

The scientist puffed hard on his pipe and blew a thick cloud of smoke out of the corner of his mouth.

“Não, I’ve not prepared anything,” he said. “Maybe we can switch things round: let’s jump in my car, head over to your hotel and go over your spirituality notes together.



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