Blood Water Paint

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Blood Water Paint Page 12

by Joy McCullough

on together.

  But now I know

  the only fighters

  in my regiment

  are made of pigment, oil, sweat.

  78.

  From first fire

  to finished masterpiece

  takes many months,

  even years.

  The steps are endless,

  fill every waking moment,

  now and then intruding

  into sleep as well.

  Even with the steps

  complete, the paint

  will not be fully dry

  for years, remaining

  vulnerable to whatever

  may press up against it,

  force its will.

  And so too, it seems,

  a defloration trial.

  I was a fool to think

  they would hear my story,

  make a ruling,

  bring the ordeal

  to an end.

  No, there are months

  of interviews,

  lists of witnesses,

  lines drawn

  in the sand,

  the whole of Roman art

  divided by their loyalties.

  On one side:

  a nearly penniless,

  untrained artist

  of the fairer sex,

  with the reputation

  that comes of being

  female in a world

  consumed by men.

  And on the other:

  a savvy, charming con man

  formed of lies and sordid history.

  But history is nothing

  when overshadowed

  by a razor tongue

  and wealthy benefactors who decide

  to profit off a scandal.

  79.

  Each day

  I think

  we might

  have word

  of progress

  toward a ruling.

  Each day I am mistaken.

  My father rages through the house,

  ignores our few commissions.

  I do not breathe a word of discontent.

  Inertia and uncertainty

  ignite that piece of me

  lain dormant for so long.

  I paint again.

  Not anything that matters.

  The work my father’s been ignoring.

  Studies to improve my skills.

  I must accomplish something.

  80.

  A pinpoint of light

  on a pitch-black canvas:

  Giovanni Stiattesi

  comes to call.

  He’s Tino’s friend,

  but also Father’s.

  He has a daughter,

  a lens through which to see

  our situation

  as something more

  than scandal.

  (Why, though, does it take

  a mother, daughter, sister

  for men to take

  a woman at her word?)

  There are some things

  he thought we ought to know

  before it all spills out at trial.

  Before he came to Rome,

  Agostino Tassi was abandoned

  by his wife.

  (This is news to Father.

  Not to me.)

  Upon investigation it seems

  Tino’s wife fled

  when he raped her sister—

  a girl of just thirteen.

  And then

  (it’s not been proven

  but Giovan’s heard Tino brag)

  he sent a man to find and kill

  his wife.

  81.

  Father’s voice is muffled

  as I shut myself inside the pantry

  once again.

  He thanks Signor Stiattesi,

  sees this as a seed of hope.

  If incest,

  rape,

  and murder

  make up Agostino’s legacy,

  my honor could be heralded,

  and his destroyed forever.

  But also:

  I was always just a thing.

  Any lingering hope I had,

  any gasping dream

  that somehow

  I was special,

  somehow so alluring

  he could not control his need,

  somehow the golden moments

  that we shared were genuine

  and not just rusted tin

  disguised with cheapest paint,

  all remnants of this version

  of my story

  are scraped off the canvas

  with Signor Stiattesi’s knife.

  82.

  In the foreground,

  the party wronged,

  his property damaged,

  its provenance questioned,

  before the judge,

  bestowed by the Church

  with the power to rule

  on what stays in shadow

  and what becomes light.

  The middle ground,

  composed of witnesses

  to a crime committed

  behind closed doors,

  each with an opinion

  on where the eye should fall.

  The background:

  the property in question.

  83.

  I am

  a whore,

  insatiable,

  per Agostino’s testimony.

  It matters not

  that I’ve repeated

  time and again,

  my father’s said as well,

  if you do not count

  the act of violence

  against me,

  I am a virgin still.

  No.

  Per the court,

  I am a slut.

  My studio is less for painting

  than for vulgar rendezvous

  with any who should wander in

  and fall upon my open legs.

  They even display letters

  evidently sent by me

  to countless gentlemen,

  declaring love

  peddling wares.

  Never mind I cannot write a word.

  An abridged list

  of men who’ve had me

  on my back:

  Giovanni Battista Stiattesi

  Geronimo Modenese

  Francesco Scarpellino

  Arigenio, the cleric

  Pasquino Fiorentino

  (Quite convenient

  Signor Fiorentino is now dead

  and therefore cannot

  deny our supposed fling.)

  Oh yes, there is one more,

  aside from Signor Tassi,

  who at first insisted

  we’d never lain together,

  then changed his tune

  to say I’d lain with all the world.

  Most damning

  (most ridiculous):

  my father.

  He caps the list of names,

  a final polish on Tino’s

  sculpture carved from lies.

  I cannot be satisfied

  with all the men of Rome,

  and so they say I’ve had my father, too.

  84.

  Weeks drag

  into months drag

  into a numbing sense of time.

  Signor Tassi and his thugs perform

  as though each day is Carnival

  and show no signs of wearing out.

 
Distract with showy costumes,

  shed one mask for another.

  Their stories change

  like Tiber waters

  in a gusty storm.

  Still the judge

  cannot discern the truth.

  Because my word

  is not enough

  the judge declares

  he must have proof—

  of what I am not sure.

  Two midwives

  come before the court.

  They bow their heads, submissive,

  but they are experts in a field

  where women hold the reins.

  My mind distracted

  by the shiny notion

  of a world where only women rule,

  I do not hear

  the judge’s words,

  instructions to the midwives.

  But then our counsel

  prods my elbow,

  pushes me to stand,

  stumble after the women

  to a room

  (accompanied by the notary,

  a look of glee upon his face

  that makes my stomach turn—

  I’ve seen this look before

  on men who watch a woman

  in a garden, bathing,

  just before they demand

  she lower her robe).

  The only grace:

  the judge remains in chambers

  to pal around with Tino and his cronies.

  Two women

  push me on my back,

  hoist skirts up to my waist,

  and shove their hands inside.

  Panic rises.

  I am within a court of law.

  I should be safe

  and yet

  it’s happening again.

  Perhaps

  it never stopped.

  85.

  We’re here.

  Susanna.

  Judith’s hand

  smooths my hair

  while coarse women

  use coarser language

  to pry me open,

  debate the state of my sex.

  Those men.

  Judith whispers,

  breath hot in my ear.

  These women who dare

  to judge

  your heart

  by your body

  will never have

  an ounce of your worth.

  I summon everything I’ve got

  to keep the tears from flowing.

  If I thought women

  would show compassion

  simply because

  we share a place

  in this world,

  I was a fool.

  I am a fool.

  Darling girl.

  Susanna knows.

  Susanna was surrounded

  by women who did not help.

  We’re here.

  They stay.

  I mirror Judith’s stoic face,

  match Susanna breath for breath.

  And when the midwives

  snap at me to make myself

  presentable,

  I do not tell them

  where I wish they’d stick

  their pointy tools.

  86.

  When we emerge,

  the men share filthy jokes

  behind their hands

  as though they care

  if I should hear.

  The first midwife

  before the judge

  presents her case:

  she’s been a midwife

  for eleven years,

  lest anyone should

  question her authority.

  After thorough examination

  of my pudenda,

  (when I ask, Father tells me it

  comes from the Latin word for “shame”)

  She declares I am no virgin.

  My hymen,

  ruined, like

  my reputation.

  Was there a question

  that my hymen’s ruined?

  That’s what I’ve told the court

  repeatedly.

  The next midwife

  will not be overshadowed.

  She has known pudendas now

  for fifteen years.

  She confirms the broken hymen,

  points out it wasn’t

  broken recently.

  All this is said

  as though it proves

  that I’m a whore.

  But can’t it prove

  the act of violence

  against me?

  87.

  The judge peers down a nose

  so conspicuous it would require

  an artist unusually skilled

  at perspective to do him justice.

  I’ve told the truth.

  I’ve offered up my body.

  There’s nothing else to do.

  He sighs.

  The petulant child

  forever whines

  (as though I’ve lost

  a ball

  a doll

  a game of dice

  and not

  my honor).

  Signorina Gentileschi,

  are you aware

  of what will happen

  should you continue to insist

  on these accusations?

  I’d hoped

  the court would

  take the time

  to study every nuance,

  every brushstroke.

  I will have no choice

  but to subject you to . . .

  tests.

  Tests of your integrity.

  My integrity must be tested

  while Agostino smirks,

  a man who raped

  his wife,

  her sister,

  possibly even

  had them killed.

  I will my voice not to tremble.

  My integrity can

  withstand your tests.

  Now the judge

  is the one who smirks.

  I wouldn’t be so flippant

  if I were you.

  We tend to use the manner

  most effective for

  drawing out

  the witness.

  I cannot fathom

  what that means.

  Though Agostino paints

  over my words they still

  remain, indelible.

  I’ve spoken truth

  for many months.

  My statement will remain the same.

  This is not for the pleasure

  of the court, of course,

  but to clear your name.

  To remove any

  trace of doubt about

  your virtue.

  This time I say nothing.

  He has not asked a question.

  I do not know what he expects—

  for me to change my story

  now that he makes threats

  I cannot even comprehend?

  Obstinacy, my child,

  could cost you your hands.

  For the first time

  in seven months

  the courtroom is silent.

  Each person watching

  knows I’m nothing

  without my hands.

  What about my hands?

  You shall undergo the sibyl.

  88.

  Look at the sibyls.

  Inside the Sistine Chapel,

  I could not focus.

  T
iptoes only disappointed—

  I’d never be close enough.

  But Mother crouched down

  to match my height,

  took my hand, outstretched our arms,

  and we gazed along the same sight line

  at women on the ceiling.

  Look at the sibyls, love.

  Five women sit in judgment,

  spread across the heavens.

  Women who speak truth.

  And listen to me, love.

  When a woman risks

  her place, her very life to speak

  a truth the world despises?

  Believe her. Always.

  The Delphic sibyl

  watches Judith

  on the ceiling next to her.

  The prophetess bears witness

  as the warrior slays Holofernes.

  If Judith withstood

  the sibyl’s truth

  then I can too.

  89.

  The ancient sibyls spoke the truth.

  And so,

  in my courtroom,

  will you.

  Your arms shall cross

  before your breast, my dear,

  cords slipped

  between each finger

  and around your hands,

  tightened with a running string.

  Your joints will be crushed

  with each turn of the garrotte.

  It won’t take long

  to render

  your hands

  useless.

  The judge’s final word

  reverberates,

  almost loud enough

  to drown out

  Father’s gasp.

  I cannot bear

  to turn and see his face.

  I’ve no idea

  what my own

  must show.

  Horror, shock,

  perhaps.

  More likely

  pure confusion.

  I’ve followed

  Susanna’s strokes—

  she sent her monsters

  to their slaughter.

  But I am not to be Susanna.

  You don’t have to be Susanna.

  And so I must be Judith.

  My voice will shake

  if I should speak

  but still I paint the blood.

  And what torture

  will Signor Tassi undergo?

  He snickers—

  not the judge,

  but the man who tore

  my world apart

  upon a whim,

  an urge,

  a bit of wounded pride.

  The judge clears his throat,

  exchanges glances

  with Signor Tassi’s counsel.

  This trial is torture enough.

  90.

  Here are my hands.

  Do what you will.

  PART V

  91.

  The bandages wrap once and twice,

 

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