The Brooke-Rose Omnibus

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The Brooke-Rose Omnibus Page 14

by Brooke-Rose, Christine


  – Oh, I see. I didn’t know. What did they say? It isn’t …? No. Not that they’d tell you of course, until it was too obvious. Psychoscopy? But that’s marvellous. What did I tell you, I knew he didn’t project, one only has to look at him. How clever of Denise. And how very kind. He’s tremendously lucky, you know, very few Colourless get it. Oh, in theory of course, but in practice they’re given up as hopeless, and there is a tremendous demand and a shortage of qualified psychoscopists, not to mention the machines and operators. It’s highly skilled and takes years to train them. It breaks one’s heart when the unemployment is so acute, but there it is, it’s always the same old story. There are jobs for the specialists or rather for some specialists like astro-computors and isofertilisers and demographers and geoprognologists regardless of race or creed, but not for the unskilled or even the semi-skilled and the unskilled literally cannot even be trained for such jobs, their standard of brain-function is too low, well, it’s a chemical fact, and the semi-skilled and specialists in other things are too set in their ways to adapt. Adaptation, that’s the thing, you see. But what with one thing and another, and the priority on cosmoindustry, bathyagriculture, psychostellar communications and all that, and of course, medicine, I mean all other medical ways and means of dealing with the malady, psychoscopy’s somehow become a luxury. So you see he’s very lucky. I hope it will have done some good. I’m sorry to talk about you in the third person like that, my dear, it’s very rude I know, but then, you don’t say much, and besides, it’s a sort of habit Lilly and I got into, a sort of game we used to play at school, talking about people as if they weren’t there. Very unnerving. That was the idea, of course, to show we weren’t put out by the others’ treatment. Oh, they were very nice to us, but there was a sort of undercurrent, if you know what I mean, and it was much worse then than now, which was understandable really. I mean, what with history and the displacement and all that, and of course the malady, I mean things have improved considerably, thanks largely to their extraordinary energy and efficiency and generosity. Because they really are superbly generous, you know, very warm-hearted people, that’s one thing one can say, they are warm-hearted, in fact I’ll tell you one thing, now that I feel so much one of them, you remember how at school they used to call us cold fish, cold-blooded, cold-hearted? Well they still do, you know, that’s entirely between you and me, and you of course, but there’s a tradition, going way back, no doubt into tribal history, that this is the fundamental difference between the Melanian races and the Colourless. Even I feel it sometimes, this basic attitude I mean. That’s why I have psychoscopy every month. It’s absolutely invaluable to me. I mean, I have to meet so many people all the time, I’d be lost without it.

  – Only one. Oh, well, it’s better than nothing, you know, and as I say you were lucky to get it. And presumably they gave you your biogram. They didn’t? But why on earth didn’t you ask for it? Yes I’d love some coffee thank you Lilly. Oh, the biogram is indispensable. It’s the extracted absolute of your unconscious patterns throughout your life, well, the average, if you like, telescoped in time into one line that shows your harmonious rhythm, your up and down tendencies, you know, when the sub is most or least at one with the super. Then all you have to do is to choose your safe periods for social intercourse. It’s possible of course to work it out for yourself, very roughly I mean, and only for the time under survey, and it’s even possible to work out other people’s biograms, the people you constantly deal with I mean, and so choose their safe periods to coincide with yours. But the observation does take time and tends to be subjective and therefore unscientific. Still, it all comes to the same thing in the end, a technique for living. You should try it, it really does work. The psychoscope is better of course, it telescopes a whole life-time after all, and quite, quite objectively. As a matter of fact I’ll let you into a secret. Denton and I know our psychoscopist so well by now, he has given us the biograms of most people we come into constant contact with, and I must say it has made the world of difference. I wonder whether the psychoscopist here is anyone I know, he might give me the Mgulus’ biograms. After all we are staying at the house several days. Thanks awfully, that does smell good. Denton has things to discuss with Severin. What was your chap’s name? Dr. Lukulwe. Hmm. No, I don’t know him.

  – Oh but they have. Well of course. All politicians are psychoscoped regularly. And their wives. Well, they have to be. I mean the situation would be too dangerous otherwise. Look what happened last time. I’d go so far as to say it’s thanks to psychoscopy that everything’s been running as smoothly as it has, quite under control in fact, as far as that is concerned. Because you know, it’s quite incredible but people do forget, oh yes, new generations, despite history and everything. I suppose that’s the trouble, really, we started with too many that had the highest possible informative content, or, which is the same thing, the lowest possible probability, then we seized every opportunity to test them with the utmost severity, eliminating and eliminating, well, there you are, those that survive enjoy the prestige that traditionally attaches to survivors.

  – How do you mean, who said that? I do think your husband is peculiar, Lilly. It’s not part of an epic poem if that’s what you want to know. Though I suppose it might well be. Come to that, perhaps it is. It did sound sort of gnomic didn’t it? Yes well you’re quite right, Denton said it, in one of his speeches in the House, and I remembered it, as I’d helped him a bit, oh yes, I do now and again you know, though he has a secretary of course and a ghost, still he trusts my judgment absolutely, well, my inspiration, he calls it, my Colourless collective unconscious. These things are important, you know, in an interracial society. It’s nice to feel we’re still useful in more ways than one, and ancient wisdom isn’t to be despised, even if it did make mistakes.

  – Of course the past exists. Whatever next? We must face facts you know. Lilly, is he all right? Would you like me to use my influence and get him another psychoscopy? I’m sure I could, certainly when I get back to the capital, all I have to do is to ask my own psychoscopist. What did you say this one’s name was? Lukulwe. I must jot that down. Lu-kul-we.

  – What did he say? I can’t hear him. An answer. What do you mean, an answer? Don’t be so metaphysical. Do you mean an explanation of the origin? Or do you mean a cure? Surely you know that diagnosis only prognosticates aetiology. Well. I should have thought everyone understood that by now. It’s a short way of saying that they don’t claim to find either the ultimate cause or the ultimate cure, but they do know exactly how it functions, and can prescribe accordingly. I mean every neurosis has its mechanics, which are absolutely predictable, they can tell exactly what anyone will do next, it’s marvellous. And it’s true of everything, medicine, for instance, well, look at the malady, and of course social science, and demography, and politics, the lot. That’s why the principle is so important. I can’t stand not knowing how a thing functions. I mean one must know the rules. That’s why psychoscopy’s been so invaluable to me, it really does provide one with a technique for living, especially the biograms, and they really are amazingly accurate, I’ve found. I can’t stand not knowing where I stand, if you know what I mean. That’s why I never liked artists much. Or diplomats. But they’re a thing of the past, which proves of course there must have been a past. Oh, they’re still recognised, they have a vestigial function that is useful in its way. But you only have to meet them a few minutes, or read an old document or an old book, or see an old film at the film museum, and you get that sort of crushed feeling, at least I do, and I know Denton does, and all the friends I’ve ever talked to about it do, and their reactions are very similar, and they boil down to this, what view are we being urged to take? Well, it’s impossible to tell, I mean, it’s unnerving, isn’t it. No. I like to know where I stand. I’ve chosen my life and I wouldn’t have it any other way. My children are healthy and have a fairer chance of survival than if – than otherwise. I love being in the swim of things, I take an int
erest in world affairs and local government and everything that Denton does in fact. I travel with him a good deal. I see all sorts and conditions of people and their circumstances, their activities, their projects and their hopes, and I love having a hand in helping, however indirectly, the Government and world schemes for their furtherment and betterment. I love people you see.

  – Lilly it was simply splendid seeing you. I’m so glad I was able to come, and thank you for a perfectly delicious lunch. I’m sorry to see you’re on a diet, I hope it’s nothing serious? Oh, good. I go on a temporary diet too sometimes, it’s a wise thing to do now and again. Well we must keep in touch. And if there’s anything I can do please don’t hesitate. I mean none of this false shame business between us. We’re old friends you know and I’ll always stand by you. A friend in need. And of course that goes for you too. I hope you find work soon, it’s very demoralising, I know. You are taking the pills, aren’t you? Would you like me to have a word with Denise? Why not? It was your health, after all, and she sent you there. She’s very odd at times, is Denise. Still, come to think of it, perhaps you’re right. At least for the moment. She may have her reasons. I mean I haven’t seen your biogram or anything. Never meddle is my motto. Well, be patient, renew your prescription, and don’t you neglect the dole-pills, they’re better than people think, you know, I’ve seen them being manufactured and the director of the biochemical industry’s a personal friend of mine. I hope you’ll feel better soon. Lilly, my dear, goodbye, it was lovely to see you. Oh of course I may catch a glimpse of you up at the house, but we won’t be able to have a nice long chat like now. I did so enjoy it. Goodbye.

  Behind the trellis the gesture is one of helplessness, palms flat and briefly facing upwards, paler, almost pink, and heavily lined, with unacknowledged pasts perhaps, and present prospects. The gesture would be the same if the helplessness were faked. The back of the man to whom the gesture is made slouches. His neck creases into his shoulders and he has thin pale hair.

  – How do you expect us to help you if you don’t take your dole-pills? Don’t you understand that you are unemployable in your present state? Even if there were jobs available.

  The man with the slouching shoulders and the thin pale hair shifts to the right and leans sideways on the counter, as if to make the conversation less private. Nevertheless it is not possible to measure or even roughly to estimate the degree of sincerity in the sympathetic eyes behind the trellis, for the metal grid splinters the bland Bahuko face, which also shines with curved oblongs and blobs of white light from the heat of the day, and the voice too seems encased by the barrier.

  – What did you say?

  – I think the pills are slowly poisoning us.

  The whites of the eyes are brownish with a tinge of pink. The blacks of the eyes are brown, and for a moment stray away from the pasty face and the slouching shoulder of the man leaning on the counter, but the meeting is not compulsory and the dark lids immediately half shield them.

  – Oh come now, man, you don’t want to go believing that sort of thing. What was your occupation?

  Through the slanted slits under the lowered brown lids the eyes just visible follow the dark hand as it moves across the pink card, holding a golden pen, and neatly braceleted at the wrist by the spotless white cuff-edge.

  – I don’t mean on purpose.

  – What? Oh. Well, I should hope you do not. It is a very serious accusation. We have courts in which to make that kind of statement, backed with suitable evidence. Now then, are you going to take it, I haven’t got all day.

  – You can’t force me to take the pills. They’re poisoning the blood-stream. I’ve analysed them, I know, under pretext of building us up and protecting us from radioactive minerals you’re over-filling us with potassium and carbohydrate complexes, you’re multiplying our leucocyte count, you’re slowly debilitating us so that –

  – Now that’s enough. If you have any complaints you can take them to the proper quarter. As far as I am concerned you must take this pill, and I am entitled to insist that you take it here in front of me. We’re only trying to prevent unemployment apathy and frustration, you know, which are the seeds of crime. But it’s for your own good mainly. Don’t you see that you must keep yourself fit and cheerful just in case a job does turn up? I mean if it did you just wouldn’t get it. Or keep it. You’re in a bad way you know.

  – I can’t swallow it without water.

  – Yes you can, it’s very small and quite round. Good. Now don’t miss out tomorrow or the next day. You’ll see, you’ll soon feel quite different. Next please.

  The grid grows big and splits the taut Bahuko face, alert as a monkey’s but shining with curved oblongs and blobs of white light from the heat of the day.

  – Is it true what he said?

  The vibration of the voice has not been sufficient to carry the question across the metal barrier and the question evaporates, leaving no trace of error in the air, except perhaps a residue at the back of the mind, to be answered by Mrs, Mgulu who writes no little notes and does not nod and aches there by her absence. The dark hand moves across the card, holding a golden pen. In the right arch of the nose, with the left eye closed, the vertical metal bar divides the taut Bahuko face almost exactly in half. In the left arch of the nose, with the right eye closed, the vertical bar moves to the right of the face. The horizontal bars frame the face above and below.

  – Hermm! Excuse me. But is it true what he said?

  – What? Speak up man, I can’t hear you.

  – Is it true? What he said?

  The shrug seems to fill the whole trellis, twining in and out of the squares.

  – No. He always comes and makes a scene. It is his big moment. We play along with him. Nothing today I’m afraid. Here’s your pill.

  – No thank you.

  – Hey, are you starting that game? You must take it. It’s a new regulation. I’ve got my job to do and you’ve got – to take it. Go on.

  The pill tastes bitter in the saliva under the tongue. The floor is mottled and full of feet in dirty canvas shoes. Men move aside. Above their heads the notice says Do Not Spit. The young palm tree stands cut in stillness against the blue intensity framed darkly by the door, and waits, as if to bend down and mop up the accumulating spit that sizzles suddenly on the burning pavement and then is lost in walking legs and under ambling feet.

  – Wait.

  The voice grabs the shoulder. The man has a pasty face and thin pale hair. His hand is now outstretched.

  – You are my friend?

  – No.

  – But you spat!

  – A man can spit can’t he?

  – What? I can’t hear you.

  – People don’t usually.

  – You mean you always say things like that?

  – Like what? I mean, oh it doesn’t matter. My voice. It’s very small.

  – Oh I don’t think so, it’s just the noise here. I saw you … spit. Don’t worry I won’t tell. Did you see the way he made me take it like that. Why, I might have been a child. Where you from?

  – The – er – just outside town.

  – No. I mean before. Ukay?

  – Yes.

  – Uessay. Can I walk along with you?

  – If you want to. I mean, it’s very crowded, isn’t it.

  – I must talk to you. About these pills.

  – Are you a doctor then?

  – There you go, you’re as bad as they are. That’s not the point. But can you honestly say that you haven’t been feeling steadily worse since you started taking the pills? Stand here and cross your heart and say – hey, there’s no need to push, Madam, the street’s big enough for all of us. Mongrels. Sons of bitches, the lot. I’m sorry my friend. I am upset and irritable today. It’s the long-term effect of these pills, there is not a doubt about that, and I ask you once again to stand here and cross your heart and swear you haven’t been feeling steadily worse since you began taking them. Can you? No you ca
nnot.

  – Well, it’s true I do feel worse.

  – More and more debilitated! Of course. They send up the leucocyte count you see. Oh, the onset is insidious, well advanced before diagnosis. Very clever. But I’m not having it.

  – But do you have proof? I mean how did you come to these conclusions?

  – What? I can’t hear a word you say.

  – Well, you asked for it. The street’s much too crowded. OW!

  – Oh, I could probably prove it, if I had the facilities. The laboratories and that. But at the moment it’s just an idea, a hunch if you like, you know, like the sulphonamides and derivatives, for years everyone thought they were the answer to everything, until the ultimate harm they were doing to the blood cells was finally realised and, well, that’s medical history, like leeches or anything else. And this could be the same.

  – Have you told anyone about your suspicions? Anyone responsible?

  – No. And they wouldn’t listen if I did, would they? It wouldn’t be in their interest. Because it’s true. So they treat you like a lunatic, and if you’re not careful they treat you like a subversive element.

  The crowds knock into their sudden immobility. The noise mills about. The traffic hoots by slowly through the swarming people who gesticulate and move lethargically among the shouts from the vegetable stalls. The children and the old men grub about under and between the stalls, under and between the innumerable legs, hoping to find a fallen fig or some dropped seeds of maize. It is market day.

  – Now, listen. As I said to that chap, I don’t mean they’re doing it on purpose, nor are you going to get me to say it. I don’t know who you are anyway, come to think of it you’re not as friendly as you seemed when I saw you spit.

 

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