Palafox by Éric Chevillard

Palafox by Éric Chevillard

Author:Éric Chevillard
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Literary, Fantasy, Metaphysical, Fiction
ISBN: 9781935744115
Publisher: Archipelago
Published: 1990-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


Palafox nearly choked to death curled up on his side like a bum. After having tugged in vain on his tether, he started to graze unhungrily just to pass the time, how else could we explain his clockwise course? The cord wrapped around the stake, and with each new lap the tether drew shorter, and tighter for want of slack, as if caught in a collar, the poor thing falling to his knees and onto his side, nearly choking to death. Sure, all he needed to do was turn back in the opposite direction, counter-clockwise, to see comfort once again restored. But Palafox isn’t there yet. He possesses only the fuzziest sense of the interdependence of space and time in his world. He still has to ask the stars (how dare he?) which way to go. Maureen disentangles him, tosses his peanuts into a saucer. Palafox capers about, rolls around at Olympia’s feet, unties the laces of her boots. No, he’s decidedly not an eagle.

Algernon would get a lot more credit if he were able to get the thing to speak. He’s been trying for quite some time. Palafox as his own ringmaster, that’s the idea. Thanks to so many of you for coming, Algernon repeats endlessly into his ear. Chirp, says Palafox. Articulate more clearly, Algernon instructs. Chirp? ventures Palafox. Better. Once again. Chirp! Recites Palafox. And Algernon is so happy he could kiss him. (Ovid, Cato, Petronius and Pliny all mention the art of teaching birds the rudiments of conversation, whereas Cicero’s silence on this matter could be seen as a silent reproach of the practice. Later, Clement of Alexandria scolded women who tried to teach their nightingales. And yet look at where we are now. We hardly read Cicero, Clement of Alexandria wouldn’t manage to find a publisher for his Hypotyposes, Madame, Mademoiselle, Monsieur, your work unfortunately does not quite fall within the constraints of our list - but each night, in spring, in the gardens and the undergrowth, rise the sad songs of the Roman and Greek women they found so frivolous.

Most of Palafox’s lesson-time is devoted these days to matters of elocution. As for the remainder, just tweaking and fine-tuning. His stride, for example, is still somewhat heavy, halting, which wouldn’t be so surprising if he were devoid of limbs. At first glance you’d be so sure he was, you’d take the bet. But he’s just a torso! exclaimed Franc-Nohain after his capture. In reality, the seal has two paws, which may as well be called flippers since the five fingers are joined by webbing - thanks to which he is able to move forward, in spite of everything, painfully sure, as if he were dragging himself forward beneath a sack of geological bric-a-brac. Palafox should shake it off before he enters the living room of La Gloriette, in order to move with ease between tables, and he should trim his mustache, and above all he should overcome his fear of taking his head out of his shoulders.



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