The Collected Novels of José Saramago

by José Saramago

  Swaying to the rhythm of suleiman's stately step, fritz brushes off the snow that has adhered to his eyebrows and wonders what his future in vienna will be, he's a mahout and will continue to be a mahout, nor could he ever be anything else, but the memory of his time in lisbon, where he was initially feted by the populace, even nobles from the royal court, who are, strictly speaking, also members of the populace, then promptly forgotten by everyone, leads him to ask himself if, in vienna, they will also place him in a stockade with the elephant and leave him there to rot. Something is sure to happen, solomon, he said, this journey has been only an interval, and just be glad that the mahout subhro has given you back your real name, you will have the life, be it good or bad, for which you were born and from which you cannot escape, but I wasn't born to be a mahout, in fact, no man was born to be a mahout even if no other door opens for him in his entire existence, basically, I'm a kind of parasite on you, a louse hidden among the bristles on your back, I probably won't live for as long as you will, men's lives are short compared with those of elephants, that's a known fact, I wonder what will become of you if I'm not around, they'll summon another mahout, of course, some one will have to take care of suleiman, perhaps the archduchess will offer her services, that would be funny, an archduchess serving an elephant, or else one of the princes when they're grown up, but, one way or another, dear friend, while your future is guaranteed, mine isn't, I'm a mahout, a parasite, a mere appendage.

  Weary from such a long journey, we reached innsbruck on a notable date in the catholic calendar, epiphany, in the year fifteen hundred and fifty-two. There was a terrific party as one would expect in the first big austrian town to welcome the archduke. It's not quite clear whether the applause was for him or for the elephant, not that this matters much to the future emperor, for whom suleiman is, apart from anything else, a political tool of the first order, whose importance could never be diminished by petty jealousy. The success of their reception in wasserburg and müldhorf is bound to owe something to the presence of a creature hitherto unknown in austria, as if maximilian the second had conjured it out of thin air to please his subjects, from the lowest to the highest. The whole final stage of the elephant's journey will be a constant joyful clamor that will spread from one town to another like wildfire, as well as providing inspiration to the artists and poets of each place we pass through and who will outdo themselves producing paintings, engravings and commemorative medals, or composing poetic inscriptions like those written by the well-known humanist caspar bruschius, intended for the town hall of linz. And speaking of linz, where the convoy will abandon ships, boats and rafts to continue the rest of the journey on foot, it is only natural that someone will want to know why the archduke didn't continue on in comfort down the river, since the same river danube that brought them to linz would also have taken them on to vienna. Such thoughts are at best naïve and, at worst, ignorant, showing, as they do, a complete failure to grasp the importance in the lives of nations in general and of politics and other commercial enterprises in particular of a well-thought-out publicity campaign. What would happen if archduke maximilian of austria were to make the mistake of disembarking in the port of vienna. Now, ports, whether large or small, whether they serve river or sea, have never been noted for their orderliness or cleanliness, and when, by chance, they present themselves to us with every appearance of organized normality, it is wise to remember that such an appearance is merely one of the countless and not infrequently contradictory faces of chaos. What would happen if the archduke were to disembark along with all his convoy, elephant included, onto a quay crammed with crates and sacks and sundry bundles, in the midst of all that detritus, with the crowds getting in the way, just how would he manage to make his way through to the city's new avenues and there prepare for a proper parade. It would be a very sad entrance after more than three years' absence. And that is not what will happen. In müldhorf, the archduke will give orders to his steward to draw up plans for a reception party in vienna befitting the event, or events, firstly, and most obviously, the arrival of himself and the archduchess, secondly, the arrival of that marvel of nature, the elephant suleiman, who will astonish the viennese just as he has astonished all those who laid eyes on him in portugal, spain and italy, which, to be fair, are not exactly barbarous lands. Messengers on horseback left for vienna with orders intended for the burgermeister, orders in which the archduke expressed his wish to see reflected in people's hearts and in the streets all the love that he and the archduchess felt for the city. Well, a nod is as good as a wink to a blind man. Other instructions were issued, for internal use only, suggesting that it would be a good idea to take advantage of the journey down the rivers inn and danube to carry out a general clean-up of people and animals, although, since, for understandable reasons, this could not include bathing in the ice-cold waters of the river, said clean-up would have to be a fairly superficial affair. Every morning, the archduke and archduchess were provided with a goodly quantity of hot water for their ablutions, and this led those members of the convoy concerned with their own personal hygiene to sigh sadly and murmur, I wish I was an archduke. They didn't want the power that maximilian the second held in his hands, indeed, they might not even have known what to do with it, but they did covet that hot water, about whose utility they appeared to have no doubts.

  When he disembarked in linz, the archduke already had very clear ideas about how to organize the convoy to his best advantage, especially as regards the psychological impact of his return on the population of vienna, which was, after all, the capital and, therefore, a place of heightened political sensibilities. The cuirassiers, who had up until then been divided into vanguard and rearguard, became one unit at the head of the convoy. Immediately behind them came the elephant, which, we must admit, was a strategic move worthy of an alekhine, especially when we learn that the archduke's carriage will come only third in the convoy. The objective was clear, to give greatest prominence to suleiman, which made perfect sense, since vienna had seen archdukes of austria before, whereas this would be their first sighting of an elephant. It is thirty-two leagues from linz to vienna and there will be two planned intermediate stops, one in melk and the other in the town of amstetten, where they will sleep, small stages, so that the convoy can enter vienna looking reasonably fresh. The weather is far from perfect, the snow continues to fall and the wind has still not lost its cutting edge, but compared with the isarco and brenner passes, this could easily be the road to paradise, although it's unlikely that roads exist in that celestial place, because souls, once they've fulfilled the necessary entrance requirements, are immediately equipped with a pair of wings, the only authorized means of locomotion up there. There will be no further rest after amstetten. The people from the villages came down to the road to see the archduke and found themselves face to face with an animal of whom they had vaguely heard and who provoked both understandable curiosity and the most absurd explanations, as happened to the lad who, when he asked his grandfather why the elephant was called an elephant, received the answer, Because he has a trunk. An austrian, even one from the lower classes, is not just anyone, he always has to know everything. Another idea that sprang up among these good people, as we tend so patronizingly to call them, was that in suleiman's country of origin everyone owned an elephant, just as here people owned a horse, a mule, or more often a donkey, and that they must be pretty rich if they could afford to feed an animal that size. The proof of this came when we had to stop in the middle of the road so that suleiman could eat, because for some unknown reason, he had turned up his nose at breakfast. A small crowd gathered round, amazed at the speed with which the elephant, with the aid of his trunk, stuffed the bundles of hay into his mouth and swallowed them, having first turned them over a couple of times with his powerful molars, which, although invisible from the outside, were easy enough to imagine. As the convoy neared vienna, there was a gradual but noticeable improvement in the weather. Nothing extraordinary, there was still a lot
of low cloud, but it had stopped snowing. Someone said, If it goes on like this, we'll arrive in vienna with a clear blue sky and in brilliant sunshine. That isn't quite what happened, but things would have been very different on this journey if the weather in general had followed the example of what will one day become known as the city of the waltz. Now and then, the convoy was obliged to stop because the men and women from the surrounding villages wanted to show off their singing and dancing skills, which particularly pleased the archduchess, whose pleasure the archduke shared in a benevolent, almost fatherly manner, corresponding to a still common attitude, What do you expect, that's women for you. The towers and domes of vienna were already on the horizon, the doors of the city stood wide open, and the people were out in the streets and in the squares, dressed in their best clothes in honor of the archduke and archduchess. That is how valladolid had greeted the elephant too, but iberian folk are as easily pleased as children. Here, in austrian vienna, they cultivate discipline and order, there's something almost teutonic about it, as the future will show. The most powerful figure of authority is arriving in the city, and what prevails among the population is a feeling of respect and unconditional deference. Life, however, has many cards up its sleeve and often produces them when we least expect it. The elephant was proceeding unhurriedly, at a measured pace, the pace of one who knows that more haste does not necessarily mean more speed. Suddenly, a girl of about five, as we later learned, who was watching the cortège with her parents, let go of her mothers hand and ran toward the elephant. A horrified gasp left the throats of all those who could foresee the tragedy about to unfold, the animal's feet knocking down and trampling the poor little body, the archduke's return besmirched by misfortune, national mourning, the terrible blot on the city's escutcheon. They clearly did not know solomon. He coiled his trunk around the girl's body as if in an embrace and lifted her into the air like a new flag, the flag of a life saved at the very last moment, when it was about to be lost. The girl's weeping parents ran to solomon and received in their arms their daughter, restored, brought back to life, while everyone else applauded, many of them dissolving into tears of uncontrolled emotion, some saying that it had been a miracle, quite unaware of the miracle solomon had performed in padua by kneeling at the door of the basilica of saint anthony. And then, as if the denouement of the dramatic incident we have just witnessed were not quite complete, the archduke was seen to step down from his carriage before helping the archduchess down as well, whereupon both of them, hand in hand, walked over to the elephant, who was still surrounded by people cheering him as the hero of the day, and as he would continue to be for a long time afterwards, for the story of the elephant who saved a little viennese girl from certain death will be told a thousand times and elaborated upon a thousand times more, even now. When the people realized that the archduke and archduchess were approaching, silence fell, and the crowd made way for them. Shock was still evident on many faces, some of the onlook ers were even having difficulty drying their tears. Fritz had descended from the elephant's back and was waiting. The archduke stopped and looked him straight in the eye. Fritz bowed his head and saw before him the archduke's right hand, open and expectant, Sir, I do not dare, he said, and held out his own hands, dirty from continuous contact with the elephant's skin, who was, nevertheless, still the cleaner of the two, since fritz could not remember when he'd last had a proper bath, whereas suleiman cannot pass a pool of water without plunging into it. When the archduke still did not withdraw his hand, fritz had no alternative but to shake it, his hard, calloused mahout's skin touching the fine, delicate skin of a man who had never even had to dress himself. Then the archduke said, Thank you for avoiding a tragedy, But I didn't do anything, sir, suleiman deserves all the praise, That may be so, but you, I imagine, must have contributed in some way, Well, I did what I could, sir, I wouldn't be a mahout otherwise, If everyone did what they could, the world would doubtless be a better place, If your highness says so, it must be true, You're forgiven, there's no need for flattery, Thank you, sir, Welcome to vienna and I hope vienna deserves both you and suleiman, you'll be happy here. And with that, maximilian went back to his carriage, leading the archduchess by the hand. Charles the fifth's daughter is pregnant yet again.

  THE ELEPHANT DIED less than two years later, when it was once more winter, in the final month of fifteen hundred and fifty-three. The cause of death was never known, at the time there were no blood tests, chest x-rays, endoscopies, mri scans or any of the other things that are now everyday occurrences for humans, although less so for animals, who die with no nurse to place a hand upon their fevered brow. As well as skinning solomon, they cut off his front legs so that, once duly cleaned and cured, they could serve as recipients, at the entrance to the palace, for walking sticks, canes, umbrellas and sunshades in summer. As you see, kneeling before the archduke did solomon no good at all. The mahout subhro received from the hands of the steward the part of his salary that was owing to him, to which was added, by order of the archduke, a rather generous tip, and with that money, he bought a mule on which to ride and a donkey to carry the box containing his few possessions. He announced that he was going back to lisbon, but there is no record of him having entered the country. He must either have changed his mind or died en route.

  Weeks later, the archduke's letter reached the portuguese court. In it, he informed them that the elephant suleiman had died, but that the inhabitants of vienna would never forget him, for he had saved the life of a child on the very day he arrived in the city. The first reader of the letter was the secretary of state, pêro de alcáçova carneiro, who handed it to the king, saying, Solomon has died, sir. Dom joão the third looked surprised at first and then a shadow of grief darkened his face. Summon the queen, he said. Dona catarina was quick to arrive, as if she sensed that the letter brought news of interest to her, perhaps a birth or a wedding. It was clearly neither a birth nor a wedding, for her husband's face told quite another story. Dom joão the third said softly, Our cousin maximilian writes to say that solomon. The queen would not allow him to finish, I don't want to know, she cried, I don't want to know. And she ran off and shut herself in her room, where she wept for the rest of the day.

  If Gilda Lopes Encarnação had not been Portuguese leitora at the University of Salzburg, if I had not been invited to talk to her students there, and if Gilda had not arranged for us to have supper in a restaurant called the Elephant, this book would not exist. Certain unknown fates came together that night in the city of Mozart in order that this writer would ask: "What are those carvings over there?" The carvings were small wooden sculptures lined up in a row, and the first of them was Lisbon's Torre de Belém. This was followed by representations of various European buildings and monuments that clearly marked an itinerary. I was told that they illustrated the journey from Lisbon to Vienna made by an elephant in the sixteenth century, in 1551 to be precise, when João III was on the throne of Portugal. I sensed that there could be a story in this and said as much to Gilda Lopes Encarnação. She thought so too and undertook to help me gather the necessary historical facts. This book is the result of that chance encounter and owes an enormous debt to my providential supper companion, to whom I wish to express my deepest gratitude, as well as my esteem and respect.

  JOSÉ SARAMAGO

  Translator's Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank Tânia Ganho, Ben Sherriff

  and Euan Cameron for all their help and advice.