Describing the torments of poor mad Aqua (the twin sister of Marina, Van’s, Ada’s and Lucette’s mother), Van Veen (the narrator and main character in VN’s novel Ada, 1969) mentions Aqua's talc powder (now used by Marina) in a half-full glass container marked colorfully Quelques Fleurs:
At one time Aqua believed that a stillborn male infant half a year old, a surprised little fetus, a fish of rubber that she had produced in her bath, in a lieu de naissance plainly marked X in her dreams, after skiing at full pulver into a larch stump, had somehow been saved and brought to her at the Nusshaus, with her sister’s compliments, wrapped up in blood-soaked cotton wool, but perfectly alive and healthy, to be registered as her son Ivan Veen. At other moments she felt convinced that the child was her sister’s, born out of wedlock, during an exhausting, yet highly romantic blizzard, in a mountain refuge on Sex Rouge, where a Dr Alpiner, general practitioner and gentian-lover, sat providentially waiting near a rude red stove for his boots to dry. Some confusion ensued less than two years later (September, 1871 — her proud brain still retained dozens of dates) when upon escaping from her next refuge and somehow reaching her husband’s unforgettable country house (imitate a foreigner: ‘Signor Konduktor, ay vant go Lago di Luga, hier geld’) she took advantage of his being massaged in the solarium, tiptoed into their former bedroom — and experienced a delicious shock: her talc powder in a half-full glass container marked colorfully Quelques Fleurs still stood on her bedside table; her favorite flame-colored nightgown lay rumpled on the bedrug; to her it meant that only a brief black nightmare had obliterated the radiant fact of her having slept with her husband all along — ever since Shakespeare’s birthday on a green rainy day, but for most other people, alas, it meant that Marina (after G.A. Vronsky, the movie man, had left Marina for another long-lashed Khristosik as he called all pretty starlets) had conceived, c’est bien le cas de le dire, the brilliant idea of having Demon divorce mad Aqua and marry Marina who thought (happily and correctly) she was pregnant again. Marina had spent a rukuliruyushchiy month with him at Kitezh but when she smugly divulged her intentions (just before Aqua’s arrival) he threw her out of the house. Still later, on the last short lap of a useless existence, Aqua scrapped all those ambiguous recollections and found herself reading and rereading busily, blissfully, her son’s letters in a luxurious ‘sanastoria’ at Centaur, Arizona. He invariably wrote in French calling her petite maman and describing the amusing school he would be living at after his thirteenth birthday. She heard his voice through the nightly tinnitus of her new, planful, last, last insomnias and it consoled her. He called her usually mummy, or mama, accenting the last syllable in English, the first, in Russian; somebody had said that triplets and heraldic dracunculi often occurred in trilingual families; but there was absolutely no doubt whatsoever now (except, perhaps, in hateful long-dead Marina’s hell-dwelling mind) that Van was her, her, Aqua’s, beloved son. (1.3)
Darkbloom ('Notes to Ada'): lieu de naissance: birthplace.
Nuss: German for ‘nut’.
Khristosik: little Christ (Russ.).
c’est bien le cas de le dire: and no mistake.
rukuliruyushchiy: Russ., from Fr. roucoulant, cooing.
In VN’s novel Camera Obscura (1933) Magda (who becomes Margot in Laughter in the Dark, 1938, the English version of Camera Obscura) smothers herself with talc-powder after making love to Horn (who becomes Rex in Laughter in the Dark) in the adjacent hotel room:
Номер с двуспальной постелью был вовсе неплохой, но Магда стала мелко стучать каблуком об пол, тихо и неприятно повторяя: «Я здесь не останусь, я здесь не останусь». «Превосходная комната», – сказал Кречмар увещевающе. Мальчик вдруг открыл внутреннюю дверь, – там оказалась ванная, вошел в нее, открыл другую дверь – вот те на: вторая спальня!
Горн и Магда вдруг переглянулись.
«Я не знаю, насколько вам это удобно, – общая ванная, – проговорил Кречмар. – Ведь Магда купается как утка».
«Ничего, ничего, – засмеялся Горн. – Я как-нибудь, с боку припека».
«Может быть, у вас все-таки найдется что-нибудь другое?» – обратился Кречмар к мальчику. Но тут поспешно вмешалась Магда.
«Глупости, – сказала она, – глупости. Надоело бродить».
Она подошла к окну, пока вносили чемоданы. Синева, огоньки, черные купы деревьев, звон кузнечиков… Но она ничего не видела и не слышала – ее разбирало счастливое нетерпение. Наконец она осталась вдвоем с Кречмаром, он стал выкладывать умывальные принадлежности. «Я первая пойду в ванную», – сказала она, торопливо раздеваясь. «Ладно, – ответил он добродушно. – Я тут сперва побреюсь. Только торопись, надо идти ужинать». В зеркале он видел, как мимо стремительно пролетали джемпер, юбка, что-то светлое, еще что-то светлое, один чулок, другой…
«Вот неряха», – сказал он, намыливая кадык.
Он слышал, как закрылась дверь, как трахнула задвижка, как шумно потекла вода.
«Нечего запираться, я все равно тебя купать не собираюсь», – крикнул он со смехом и принялся оттягивать четвертым пальцем щеку.
За дверью вода продолжала литься. Она лилась громко и непрерывно. Кречмар тщательно водил бритвой по щеке. Лилась вода, причем шум ее становился громче и громче. Внезапно Кречмар увидел в зеркало, что из-под двери ванной выползает струйка воды, меж тем шум был теперь грозовой, торжествующий.
«Что она в самом деле… потоп… – пробормотал он и подскочил к двери, постучал. – Магда, ты утонула? Сумасшедшая ты этакая!»
Никакого ответа. «Магда! Магда!» – крикнул он, и снежинки засохшей мыльной пены запорхали вокруг его лица.
Магда вышла из блаженного оцепенения, поцеловала напоследок Горна в ухо и бесшумно проскользнула в ванную: комнатка была полна пара и воды, она проворно закрыла краны.
«Я заснула в ванне», – крикнула она жалобно через дверь.
«Сумасшедшая, – повторил Кречмар. – Ты меня так напугала».
Струйки на полу остановились. Кречмар вернулся к зеркалу и снова намылил лицо.
Она явилась из ванной бодрая, сияющая и стала осыпаться тальком. Кречмар в свою очередь пошел купаться – там было все очень мокро. Оттуда он постучал Горну. «Я вас не задержу, – сказал он через дверь. – Сейчас будет свободно». «Валяйте, валяйте», – чрезвычайно весело ответил Горн.
За ужином она была прелестно оживлена, они сидели на террасе, вокруг лампы колесили ночницы и падали на скатерть.
«Мы останемся здесь долго, долго, – сказала Магда. – Мне здесь страшно нравится». В действительности ей нравилось только одно: расположение комнат. (Chapter XXV)
The room with the double bed was not at all bad, but Margot kept tapping her heel gently on the floor and repeating in a low sulky voice: "I won't stay here, I won't stay here."
"But really, it's quite nice for one night," said Albinus entreatingly.
The servant opened an inside door to the bathroom; went through and opened a second door, disclosing a second bedroom.
Rex and Margot suddenly exchanged glances.
"I don't know if you'll mind sharing the bathroom with us, Rex?" said Albinus. "Margot is rather splashy and long about it."
"Good," laughed Rex. "We'll manage somehow."
"Are you quite sure you haven't got another single room?" asked Albinus, turning to the servant, but here Margot hurriedly intervened: "Nonsense," she said. "It's all right. I refuse to traipse around any longer."
She walked to the window while the baggage was being brought in. There was a big star in the plum-colored sky, the black tree-tops were perfectly still, crickets chirped ... but she saw and heard nothing.
Albinus began to unpack the toilet-things.
"I'm going to have a bath first," she said, undressing hurriedly.
"Go ahead," he answered cheerily. "I'll be shaving. But don't be too long--we must get some dinner."
In the mirror he saw Margot's jumper, skirt, a couple of light undergarments, one stocking and then the other, fly swiftly through the air.
"Little slattern," he said thickly, as he lathered his chin.
He heard the door shut, the bolts rattle and the water pour in noisily.
"You needn't lock yourself in, I'm not going to turn you out," he called out laughingly, as he stretched his cheek with his finger.
There was a loud and steady rush of water behind the locked door. Albinus carefully scraped his cheek with a heavily plated Gillette. He wondered whether they had lobsters à l'Americaine here.
The water went on rushing--and grew louder and louder. He had turned the corner, so to speak, and was about to return to his Adam's apple, where a few little bristles were always reluctant to go, when suddenly he noticed with a shock that a stream of water was trickling from beneath the door of the bathroom. The roar of the taps had now taken on a triumphant note.
"Surely she can't be drowned," he muttered, running to the door and knocking.
"Darling, are you all right? You're flooding the room!"
No answer.
"Margot, Margot!" he shouted, rattling the handle (and quite unconscious of the queer part doors played in his and her life).
Margot slipped back into the bathroom. It was full of steam and hot water. She swiftly turned off the taps.
"I went to sleep in the bath," she called out plaintively through the door.
"You're crazy," said Albinus. "How you frightened me!"
The rivulets blackening the pale gray carpet weakened and stopped. Albinus walked back to the mirror and lathered his throat once more.
In a few minutes Margot emerged fresh and radiant, and began to smother herself with talc-powder. Albinus, in his turn, went to have a bath. The place was reeking with moisture. He knocked at Rex's door.
"I won't keep you waiting," he cried. "The bath'll be free in a moment."
"Oh, take your time, take your time!" shouted Rex happily.
At supper Margot was in splendid spirits. They sat on the terrace. A white moth fluttered round the lamp and fell down on the tablecloth.
"We'll stay here a long, long time," said Margot. "I like this place tremendously." (Chapter 27)
At one point Aqua (who believed that she could understand the language of her namesake, water) decided to stop turning on tap water altogether:
She developed a morbid sensitivity to the language of tap water — which echoes sometimes (much as the bloodstream does predormitarily) a fragment of human speech lingering in one’s ears while one washes one’s hands after cocktails with strangers. Upon first noticing this immediate, sustained, and in her case rather eager and mocking but really quite harmless replay of this or that recent discourse, she felt tickled at the thought that she, poor Aqua, had accidentally hit upon such a simple method of recording and transmitting speech, while technologists (the so-called Eggheads) all over the world were trying to make publicly utile and commercially rewarding the extremely elaborate and still very expensive, hydrodynamic telephones and other miserable gadgets that were to replace those that had gone k chertyam sobach’im (Russian ‘to the devil’) with the banning of an unmentionable ‘lammer.’ Soon, however, the rhythmically perfect, but verbally rather blurred volubility of faucets began to acquire too much pertinent sense. The purity of the running water’s enunciation grew in proportion to the nuisance it made of itself. It spoke soon after she had listened, or been exposed, to somebody talking — not necessarily to her — forcibly and expressively, a person with a rapid characteristic voice, and very individual or very foreign phrasal intonations, some compulsive narrator’s patter at a horrible party, or a liquid soliloquy in a tedious play, or Van’s lovely voice, or a bit of poetry heard at a lecture, my lad, my pretty, my love, take pity, but especially the more fluid and flou Italian verse, for instance that ditty recited between knee-knocking and palpebra-lifting, by a half-Russian, half-dotty old doctor, doc, toc, ditty, dotty, ballatetta, deboletta... tu, voce sbigottita... spigotty e diavoletta... de lo cor dolente... con ballatetta va... va... della strutta, destruttamente... mente... mente... stop that record, or the guide will go on demonstrating as he did this very morning in Florence a silly pillar commemorating, he said, the ‘elmo’ that broke into leaf when they carried stone-heavy-dead St Zeus by it through the gradual, gradual shade; or the Arlington harridan talking incessantly to her silent husband as the vineyards sped by, and even in the tunnel (they can’t do this to you, you tell them, Jack Black, you just tell them...). Bathwater (or shower) was too much of a Caliban to speak distinctly — or perhaps was too brutally anxious to emit the hot torrent and get rid of the infernal ardor — to bother about small talk; but the burbly flowlets grew more and more ambitious and odious, and when at her first ‘home’ she heard one of the most hateful of the visiting doctors (the Cavalcanti quoter) garrulously pour hateful instructions in Russian-lapped German into her hateful bidet, she decided to stop turning on tap water altogether. (1.3)
Darkbloom ('Notes to Ada'): lammer: amber (Fr: l’ambre), allusion to electricity.
my lad, my pretty, etc: paraphrase of a verse in Housman.
ballatetta: fragmentation and distortion of a passage in a ‘little ballad’ by the Italian poet Guido Cavalcanti (1255-1300). The relevant lines are: ‘you frightened and weak little voice that comes weeping from my woeful heart, go with my soul and that ditty, telling of a destroyed mind.’
A half-full glass container with talc powder marked colorfully Qulques Fleurs brings to mind Baudelaire's Fleurs du Mal and quelque chose (the French phrase for "something"). Chose is Van's English University. After a long soak in a hot bath Van decides to pen a note of apology to Dick C. (a cardsharp with whom Van plays poker at Chose):
Van fumed and fretted the rest of the morning, and after a long soak in a hot bath (the best adviser, and prompter and inspirer in the world, except, of course, the W.C. seat) decided to pen — pen is the word — a note of apology to the cheated cheater. As he was dressing, a messenger brought him a note from Lord C. (he was a cousin of one of Van’s Riverlane schoolmates), in which generous Dick proposed to substitute for his debt an introduction to the Venus Villa Club to which his whole clan belonged. Such a bounty no boy of eighteen could hope to obtain. It was a ticket to paradise. Van tussled with his slightly overweight conscience (both grinning like old pals in their old gymnasium) — and accepted Dick’s offer. (1.28)
In "Ardis the First" Van and Ada make love in the secluded nook of the L-shaped bathroom while giving bath to their half-sister Lucette:
On the following day Ada informed her mother that Lucette badly needed a bath and that she would give it to her, whether her governess liked it or not. ‘Horosho,’ said Marina (while getting ready to receive a neighbor and his protégé, a young actor, in her best Dame Marina style), ‘but the temperature should be kept at exactly twenty-eight (as it had been since the eighteenth century) and don’t let her stay in it longer than ten or twelve minutes.’
‘Beautiful idea,’ said Van as he helped Ada to heat the tank, fill the old battered bath and warm a couple of towels.
Despite her being only in her ninth year and rather underdeveloped, Lucette had not escaped the delusive pubescence of red-haired little girls. Her armpits showed a slight stipple of bright floss and her chub was dusted with copper.
The liquid prison was now ready and an alarm clock given a full quarter of an hour to live.
‘Let her soak first, you’ll soap her afterwards,’ said Van feverishly.
‘Yes, yes, yes,’ cried Ada.
‘I’m Van,’ said Lucette, standing in the tub with the mulberry soap between her legs and protruding her shiny tummy.
‘You’ll turn into a boy if you do that,’ said Ada sternly, ‘and that won’t be very amusing.’
Warily, the little girl started to sink her buttocks in the water.
‘Too hot,’ she said, ‘much too horribly hot!’
‘It’ll cool,’ said Ada, ‘plop down and relax. Here’s your doll.’
‘Come on, Ada, for goodness’ sake, let her soak,’ repeated Van.
‘And remember,’ said Ada, ‘don’t you dare get out of this nice warm water until the bell rings or you’ll die, because that’s what Krolik said. I’ll be back to lather you, but don’t call me; we have to count the linen and sort out Van’s hankies.’
The two elder children, having locked the door of the L-shaped bathroom from the inside, now retired to the seclusion of its lateral part, in a corner between a chest of drawers and an old unused mangle, which the sea-green eye of the bathroom looking-glass could not reach; but barely had they finished their violent and uncomfortable exertions in that hidden nook, with an empty medicine bottle idiotically beating time on a shelf, when Lucette was already calling resonantly from the tub and the maid knocking on the door: Mlle Larivière wanted some hot water too. (1.23)
Darkbloom ('Notes to Ada'): horosho: Russ., all right.
Lucette turns up when Van and Ada make love in the bathroom of Van's Manhattan flat after their reunion in 1892:
After feasting fiercely on her throat and nipples he was about to proceed to the next stage of demented impatience, but she stopped him, explaining that she must first of all take her morning bath (this, indeed, was a new Ada) and that, moreover, she expected her luggage would be brought up any moment now by the louts of the ‘Monaco’ lounge (she had taken the wrong entrance — yet Van had bribed Cordula’s devoted janitor to practically carry Ada upstairs). ‘Quick, quick,’ said Ada, ‘da, da, Ada’ll be out of the foam in two secs!’ But mad, obstinate Van shed his terry and followed her into the bathroom, where she strained across the low tub to turn on both taps and then bent over to insert the bronze chained plug; it got sucked in by itself, however, while he steadied her lovely lyre and next moment was at the suede-soft root, was gripped, was deep between the familiar, incomparable, crimson-lined lips. She caught at the twin cock crosses, thus involuntarily increasing the sympathetic volume of the water’s noise, and Van emitted a long groan of deliverance, and now their four eyes were looking again into the azure brook of Pinedale, and Lucette pushed the door open with a perfunctory knuckle knock and stopped, mesmerized by the sight of Van’s hairy rear and the dreadful scar all along his left side.
Ada’s hands stopped the water. Luggage was being bumped down allover the flat.
‘I’m not looking,’ said Lucette idiotically, ‘I only dropped in for my box.’
‘Please, tip them, pet,’ said Van, a compulsive tipper — ‘And pass me that towel,’ added Ada, but the ancilla was picking up coins she had spilled in her haste, and Ada now saw in her turn Van’s scarlet ladder of sutures — ‘Oh my poor darling,’ she cried, and out of sheer compassion allowed him the repeat performance which Lucette’s entrance had threatened to interrupt.
‘I’m not sure I did bring her damned Cranach crayons,’ said Ada a moment later, making a frightened frog face. He watched her with a sense of perfect pine-fragrant bliss, as she squeezed out spurts of gem-like liquid from a tube of Pennsilvestris lotion into the bath water.
Lucette had gone (leaving a curt note with her room number at the Winster Hotel for Young Ladies) when our two lovers, now weak-legged and decently robed, sat down to a beautiful breakfast (Ardis’ crisp bacon! Ardis’ translucent honey!) brought up in the lift by Valerio, a ginger-haired elderly Roman, always ill-shaven and gloomy, but a dear old boy (he it was who, having procured neat Rose last June, was being paid to keep her strictly for Veen and Dean). (2.6)
On the morning after his dinner in 'Ursus' (the best Franco-Estotian restaurant in Manhattan Major) with Ada and Lucette Van speeds up his ablutions, robustly dries himself and powders his groin before entering the bedroom:
Ada, being at twenty a long morning sleeper, his usual practice, ever since their new life together had started, was to shower before she awoke and, while shaving, ring from the bathroom for their breakfast to be brought by Valerio, who would roll in the laid table out of the lift into the sitting room next to their bedroom. But on this particular Sunday, not knowing what Lucette might like (he remembered her old craving for cocoa) and being anxious to have an engagement with Ada before the day began, even if it meant intruding upon her warm sleep, Van sped up his ablutions, robustly dried himself, powdered his groin, and without bothering to put anything on re-entered the bedroom in full pride, only to find a tousled and sulky Lucette, still in her willow green nightie, sitting on the far edge of the concubital bed, while fat-nippled Ada, already wearing, for ritual and fatidic reasons, his river of diamonds, was inhaling her first smoke of the day and trying to make her little sister decide whether she would like to try the Monaco’s pancakes with Potomac syrup, or, perhaps, their incomparable amber-and-ruby bacon. Upon seeing Van, who without a flinch in his imposing deportment proceeded to place a rightful knee on the near side of the tremendous bed (Mississippi Rose had once brought there, for progressive visual-education purposes, her two small toffee-brown sisters, and a doll almost their size but white), Lucette shrugged her shoulders and made as if to leave, but Ada’s avid hand restrained her.
‘Pop in, pet (it all started with the little one letting wee winds go free at table, circa 1882). And you, Garden God, ring up room service — three coffees, half a dozen soft-boiled eggs, lots of buttered toast, loads of —’
‘Oh no!’ interrupted Van. ‘Two coffees, four eggs, et cetera. I refuse to let the staff know that I have two girls in my bed, one (teste Flora) is enough for my little needs.’
‘Little needs!’ snorted Lucette. ‘Let me go, Ada. I need a bath, and he needs you.’
‘Pet stays right here,’ cried audacious Ada, and with one graceful swoop plucked her sister’s nightdress off. Involuntarily Lucette bent her head and frail spine; then she lay back on the outer half of Ada’s pillow in a martyr’s pudibund swoon, her locks spreading their orange blaze against the black velvet of the padded headboard.
‘Uncross your arms, silly,’ ordered Ada and kicked off the top sheet that partly covered six legs. Simultaneously, without turning her head, she slapped furtive Van away from her rear, and with her other hand made magic passes over the small but very pretty breasts, gemmed with sweat, and along the flat palpitating belly of a seasand nymph, down to the firebird seen by Van once, fully fledged now, and as fascinating in its own way as his favorite’s blue raven. Enchantress! Acrasia! (2.8)
In the cinema hall of Admiral Tobakoff (the ship on which they cross the Atlantic) Van and Lucette watch Don Juan's Last Fling, a film in which Ada played the gitanilla. In the midst of the picture Van leaves the cinema hall and retires to his bathroom (where he masturbates in order to get rid of the prurient pressure):
In a series of sixty-year-old actions which now I can grind into extinction only by working on a succession of words until the rhythm is right, I, Van, retired to my bathroom, shut the door (it swung open at once, but then closed of its own accord) and using a temporary expedient less far-fetched than that hit upon by Father Sergius (who chops off the wrong member in Count Tolstoy’s famous anecdote), vigorously got rid of the prurient pressure as he had done the last time seventeen years ago. And how sad, how significant that the picture projected upon the screen of his paroxysm, while the unlockable door swung open again with the movement of a deaf man cupping his ear, was not the recent and pertinent image of Lucette, but the indelible vision of a bent bare neck and a divided flow of black hair and a purple-tipped paint brush.
Then, for the sake of safety, he repeated the disgusting but necessary act. (3.5)
In Camera Obscura Magda (Margot in Laughter in the Dark) works as an usher at a Berlin cinema when Kretschmar (Albinus in Laughter in the Dark) first meets her. Magda (Margot) dreams of becoming a movie actress and of going to Hollywood. As a result of a car crash, Kretschmar (Albinus) becomes blind. In Ada Van blinds Kim Beauharnais (a kitchen boy and photographer at Ardis) for spying on him and Ada and attempting to blackmail Ada:
Van sealed the letter, found his Thunderbolt pistol in the place he had visualized, introduced one cartridge into the magazine and translated it into its chamber. Then, standing before a closet mirror, he put the automatic to his head, at the point of the pterion, and pressed the comfortably concaved trigger. Nothing happened — or perhaps everything happened, and his destiny simply forked at that instant, as it probably does sometimes at night, especially in a strange bed, at stages of great happiness or great desolation, when we happen to die in our sleep, but continue our normal existence, with no perceptible break in the faked serialization, on the following, neatly prepared morning, with a spurious past discreetly but firmly attached behind. Anyway, what he held in his right hand was no longer a pistol but a pocket comb which he passed through his hair at the temples. It was to gray by the time that Ada, then in her thirties, said, when they spoke of their voluntary separation:
‘I would have killed myself too, had I found Rose wailing over your corpse. "Secondes pensées sont les bonnes," as your other, white, bonne used to say in her pretty patois. As to the apron, you are quite right. And what you did not make out was that the artist had about finished a large picture of your meek little palazzo standing between its two giant guards. Perhaps for the cover of a magazine, which rejected that picture. But, you know, there’s one thing I regret,’ she added: ‘Your use of an alpenstock to release a brute’s fury — not yours, not my Van’s. I should never have told you about the Ladore policeman. You should never have taken him into your confidence, never connived with him to burn those files — and most of Kalugano’s pine forest. Eto unizitel’no (it is humiliating).’
‘Amends have been made,’ replied fat Van with a fat man’s chuckle. ‘I’m keeping Kim safe and snug in a nice Home for Disabled Professional People, where he gets from me loads of nicely brailled books on new processes in chromophotography.’
There are other possible forkings and continuations that occur to the dream-mind, but these will do. (2.11)
Darkbloom ('Notes to Ada'): secondes pensées etc.: second thoughts are the good ones.
bonne: housemaid.
Describing Kim Beauharnais’s album, Van mentions the kimera (chimera, camera) and a vivisectional alibi:
A formal photograph, on a separate page: Adochka, pretty and impure in her flimsy, and Vanichka in gray-flannel suit, with slant-striped school tie, facing the kimera (chimera, camera) side by side, at attention, he with the shadow of a forced grin, she, expressionless. Both recalled the time (between the first tiny cross and a whole graveyard of kisses) and the occasion: it was ordered by Marina, who had it framed and set up in her bedroom next to a picture of her brother at twelve or fourteen clad in a bayronka (open shirt) and cupping a guinea pig in his gowpen (hollowed hands); the three looked like siblings, with the dead boy providing a vivisectional alibi. (2.7)
At the beginning of Camera Obscura vivisection and Cheepy (the guinea pig painted by Robern Horn) are mentioned:
Приблизительно в 1925 г. размножилось по всему свету милое, забавное существо – существо теперь уже почти забытое, но в свое время, т. е. в течение трех-четырех лет, бывшее вездесущим, от Аляски до Патагонии, от Маньчжурии до Новой Зеландии, от Лапландии до Мыса Доброй Надежды, словом, всюду, куда проникают цветные открытки, – существо, носившее симпатичное имя Cheepy.
Рассказывают, что его (или, вернее, ее) происхождение связано с вопросом о вивисекции. Художник Роберт Горн, проживавший в Нью-Йорке, однажды завтракал со случайным знакомым – молодым физиологом. Разговор коснулся опытов над живыми зверьми. Физиолог, человек впечатлительный, еще не привыкший к лабораторным кошмарам, выразил мысль, что наука не только допускает изощренную жестокость к тем самым животным, которые в иное время возбуждают в человеке умиление своей пухлостью, теплотой, ужимками, но еще входит как бы в азарт – распинает живьем и кромсает куда больше особей, чем в действительности ей необходимо. «Знаете что, – сказал он Горну, – вот вы так славно рисуете всякие занятные штучки для журналов; возьмите-ка и пустите, так сказать, на волны моды какого-нибудь многострадального маленького зверя, например, морскую свинку. Придумайте к этим картинкам шуточные надписи, где бы этак вскользь, легко упоминалось о трагической связи между свинкой и лабораторией. Удалось бы, я думаю, не только создать очень своеобразный и забавный тип, но и окружить свинку некоторым ореолом модной ласки, что и обратило бы общее внимание на несчастную долю этой, в сущности, милейшей твари». «Не знаю, – ответил Горн, – они мне напоминают крыс. Бог с ними. Пускай пищат под скальпелем». Но как-то раз, спустя месяц после этой беседы, Горн в поисках темы для серии картинок, которую просило у него издательство иллюстрированного журнала, вспомнил совет чувствительного физиолога – и в тот же вечер легко и быстро родилась первая морская свинка Чипи. Публику сразу привлекло, мало что привлекло – очаровало, хитренькое выражение этих блестящих бисерных глаз, круглота форм, толстый задок и гладкое темя, манера сусликом стоять на задних лапках, прекрасный крап, черный, кофейный и золотой, а главное – неуловимое прелестное – смешное нечто, фантастическая, но весьма определенная жизненность, – ибо Горну посчастливилось найти ту карикатурную линию в облике данного животного, которая, являя и подчеркивая все самое забавное в нем, вместе с тем как-то приближает его к образу человеческому. Вот и началось: Чипи, держащая в лапках череп грызуна (с этикеткой: Cavia cobaja) и восклицающая «Бедный Йорик!»; Чипи на лабораторном столе, лежащая брюшком вверх и пытающаяся делать модную гимнастику, – ноги за голову (можно себе представить, сколь многого достигли ее короткие задние лапки); Чипи стоймя, беспечно обстригающая себе коготки подозрительно тонкими ножницами, – причем вокруг валяются: ланцет, вата, иголки, какая-то тесьма… Очень скоро, однако, нарочитые операционные намеки совершенно отпали, и Чипи начала появляться в другой обстановке и в самых неожиданных положениях – откалывала чарльстон, загорала до полного меланизма на солнце и т. д. Горн живо стал богатеть, зарабатывая на репродукциях, на цветных открытках, на фильмовых рисунках, а также на изображениях Чипи в трех измерениях, ибо немедленно появился спрос на плюшевые, тряпичные, деревянные, глиняные подобия Чипи. Через год весь мир был в нее влюблен. Физиолог не раз в обществе рассказывал, что это он дал Горну идею морской свинки, но ему никто не верил, и он перестал об этом говорить. (Chapter I)