At some stage Betty was commanded to stand. She stood up in the coffin and felt hands on her shoulders turning her round. It was a masked stranger she faced, two eye-slits and a gash of red lipstick showing through the mask. The woman manoeuvred her so that she followed her into the coffin, her legs going up over Betty’s shoulders, and there really wasn’t space, and she was awkward with her hands constricted, backing off so as to bring a division between their bodies, and then sensing the woman’s urgency, bringing her tongue into contact with her clit, stepping up its sensitivity as though she was entering the door of a cave to an interior forest. There was a woman inside the entrance with violet hair and leopard spot skin. She was setting fire to trees and the animals were running. They were bolting for shelter, or swimming across great lakes. The woman inside was distraught with frustration. She wanted to be forced back by the intrusive thrusts of a giant phallus. She was hoping for stars to explode in her veins. Betty felt herself being entered from behind. She knew she was being taken by a woman wearing a dildo, for the insertion was cold, and the rigidity of the object inflexible. Betty settled to the pain of tight entry, and the liturgical imprecations grew in their intensity as the lights dropped and were replaced by black torches. From the rhythmic pressure asserted, Betty could tell that the woman mechanically pumping her was herself being possessed from behind. An orgiastic chain was giving physical expression to the ceremonial chant. But the drug was again in evidence and Betty found herself taken on intricate biochemical journeys. In her mind she was swimming underwater, her body brushing against dolphins, the blue panes of water opening fluently as she accompanied the fish to a submerged ruin. Betty was open to the sound-waves transmitted by the dolphin’s nasal passages, and her correspondingly alerted sense perceptions had her body glow. She had followed the school to a coral-encrusted hulk. There were ten dolphins that formed an exact circle round two drowned bodies that continued to copulate despite their being dead. And once, when the man temporarily withdrew his penis from the woman, she could see that it was gold. Then he swung his head back and stared at her, and his eyes were gold. She wanted to ask the couple why none of them needed to breathe, but the dolphins created an impenetrable vibrational wall, and she had to remain a detached spectator to events. It was when she realized she wasn’t breathing, that the scene changed, and she spiralled back direct to the surface.
Betty wasn’t being spared by her partner, and while she drifted a man had thrust himself into her lips. His penis tasted of lipstick. But she was hurrying away again, running naked with her arms full of dresses down a high street she partly recognized, only the shops and houses had changed order, and when the rain came down it blotched her skin with blue splashes. It was an inky rain that ran cobalt in the gutters. She didn’t know where she was running, only that she’d recognize the place instantly when she saw it. There were eagles in the sky, and one of them dropped a red flag at her feet. She draped herself in it, and ran on with the dresses loading her arms. The traffic had its lights on, and the rain flashed up in white dipped arcs. Betty was aware of the urgency of the man’s thrusts, he was gagging her with his deep placement, it felt like her mouth was being expanded to three or four times life size. But mentally she had found the place. She went in through a wide open door. The shop was dark. There was a white cat sitting on the counter. The silence was loaded. It was a mannequin came out of the dark, wearing a white wedding veil spotted with blood. She knew without questioning it that the thing could speak. “You will wait in this shop a thousand years,” it said. “When the wind comes in, rusty eyed and dragging its dead tail, and when the rain arrives in the form of a sequined fish, expiring, deoxygenated, and the sun bounces in as a red ball no larger than your compact fist, then . . .” The man was starting to come, for she could feel the hot salinity decanted into her throat, his agonized pleasure exploding from a volcanic core. And no sooner had he withdrawn, than another penis entered her mouth, and the chant continued, a ritual incantation gradually receding to a sustained whisper. Betty didn’t know how long she had been here, or after a time even what had happened or was happening. She moved between inner consciousness and jabs at reality. But she was aware at some stage that she was being marched back through the confused maze of corridors, and this time she was dressed in a violet tunic, and someone had placed flowers in her hair. The midget continued to walk ahead, and the monkey kept an exact pace. They were going back through halls, complexes, and she was finally shown into a bedroom. It was almost dawn. She had completed her journey to the end of the night.
JOU PU TUAN
Li-Yü
After leaving the hermit, the young man went his way mumbling and grumbling:
“A fine saint indeed! Here I am, just twenty, barely at the threshold of manhood, and he expects me to take the tonsure, to renounce the world, and to suffer the bitterness of a monkish existence. Has such heartlessness its like in all the world? I only went to pay him my respects because formerly, before becoming a hermit, he was regarded as one of the leading lights of Confucian scholarship. I fancied he would dig up heaven knows what magic spells and bits of occult wisdom to help me on my way. But instead, he has the gall to treat me as a stupid child, and his only gift to me is this absurd and utterly uninspired epigram, which is like thunder without lightning. The whole thing is preposterous. As a future official and dignitary, I shall some day govern a whole district with a population numbering tens of thousands, and he fancies that I won’t be able to govern my own wife. Is it unreasonable of me to desire a little practice in the wind-and-moon game a little experience before marrying? That’s what he was trying to forbid. But otherwise I should be going into marriage with my eyes closed and might even choose the wrong woman. And to top it all, he tells me that someone might requite me for past transgressions by violating the securely guarded honor of my house. As though the woman who gets a paragon of manly qualities like me for a husband had any need to be seduced by another man! My own wife unfaithful! – Why, it’s out of the question.
“I should really tear up this incompetent epigram and stamp on it. But no, I’d better not. I can use it as evidence later on, to stuff down his venomous throat. If I ever meet him again, I’ll show him his epigram and put him to the test, to see whether he admits his mistake.”
After thus deliberating, he folded the epigram and put it into his belt pocket.
Returning home, he bade his servants seek out all the marriage brokers they could find and commission them to search the city and countryside for the most beautiful of marriageable girls. She must be of respectable and distinguished family; and he insisted that she must be not only beautiful, but intelligent and well educated as well. There was no lack of offers. What paterfamilias would not have been glad to have him for a son-in-law, what daughter would not have taken him for a husband? Each day a number of marriage brokers came to him with their suggestions. Where the candidate was not too high in the social scale, the matchmaker would bring her along to be introduced and inspected at first hand. But in the case of a distinguished family which insisted on its forms and observances, she arranged to have the young man, as though by chance, cross the young lady’s path in the courtyard of one of the temples, or while she was taking the air out-side the city walls.
All these meetings and tours of inspection proved to be quite useless. A certain number of worthy young persons were unnecessarily jolted out of their peaceful routines and sent home again with vain pangs in their tender little hearts. For of all the candidates who were brought forward, not a one met with the exacting suitor’s approval.
But one of the marriage brokers said to the young man:
“Now it is clear to me that among all the young candidates there is only one who is worth considering: Miss Noble Scent; her father is a private scholar, known throughout the city by the surname T’ieh-fei tao-jen, Iron Door Follower of the Tao. She alone can meet your stringent requirements. But in her case there is a difficulty: her father is an old crank who adhe
res rigidly to the ancient customs. He would certainly not permit you to inspect his daughter before marriage. Consequently I fear that even this last hope must be abandoned.”
“Iron Door Follower of the Tao? How did he come by such a strange surname? Why does he not wish his daughter to be seen? And if he keeps her hidden from all eyes, how do you know she is beautiful?”
“As I have told you, the old gentleman is rather crochety; he cares only for his books and avoids all society. He doesn’t see a living soul. He lives in a splendid country house outside the city, with fields and meadows round it, and it makes no difference who knocks on his door, he refuses to open. One day an unknown admirer came to see him, a respected gentleman from another part of the country, who wished to pay his respects. He knocked at the door for some time and when no one answered, he cried out, but in vain. Before going away he wrote an epigram on the door:
For a wise man ivy and vines
Are protection enough, he needs no door.
Yet this noble lord – who would have thought it –
Hides behind an iron door.
When the master of the house found the epigram, he decided that the two ideograms, t’ieh, iron and fei, door, summed up his character perfectly, and he chose them as a surname. From then on he called himself T’ieh-fei tao-jen: Iron Door Follower of the Tao. He is a wealthy widower and his daughter is his only child. As for her beauty, it is no exaggeration to liken her to a lovely flower, a precious jewel. In addition, her father has given her an excellent education and her little head is full of learning. Poems, essays in poetic prose, songs, stanzas – she is familiar with them all and can compose in any form. Her upbringing, as you may easily surmise, has been extremely strict, and she has hardly ever set foot outside her maidenly quarters. She never goes out, not even to the traditional services on temple holidays, and there is simply no question of visits to relatives and friends. She is sixteen years old and has never been seen in public. Even we three go-betweens and six marriage brokers have no wings, we can’t fly into her living quarters. It was only by the purest accident that I myself caught a glimpse of her not long ago.
“Yesterday I chanced to pass the house while the old gentleman was standing outside the door. He stopped me and asked if I were not Mother Liu, whose trade it was to arrange marriages. When I answered in the affirmative, he invited me in and presented his daughter. ‘This is the young lady, my only child,’ he said, and continued: ‘Now I should like you to look around and bring me a suitable son-in-law who is worthy of her and has the qualities he would need to be a son to me and the prop of my old age.’ At once I suggested that the young gentleman would be an appropriate match. He said: ‘I have already heard of him, he is said to possess high intellectual gifts as well as external advantages. But what of his character and his virtue?’ To this I replied: ‘The young gentleman is distinguished by a spiritual and ethical maturity far in advance of his years. His character is without the slightest blemish or weak point. There is only one thing: he absolutely insists on seeing his future bride with his own eyes before the betrothal.’ At once the benevolent look vanished from the old gentleman’s face, and he became very angry: ‘Nonsense. He wants to see her first – that may be permissible in the case of a venal powder-puff, a rutting mare from Yangchow. But since when is it the custom to expose the honorable daughter of a good family to the eyes of a strange man? A fine thing that would be. An impudent demand, which makes it clear to me that the young man is not the right husband for my daughter. Not another word!’ With this he broke off the interview and sent me on my way. So you see, young man, there is nothing more to be done.”
The young man thought the matter over carefully.
“If I were to marry this beautiful young girl and take her into my own house, there would be no one but me – for I am without parents or brothers – to keep an eye on her. I should have to stay home all day guarding her, there would be no chance whatever to go out. But if I went to live in her house, there would be no such difficulty, for this ancient guardian of virtue, my father-in-law, would keep a good watch over her in my absence. I should be able to go out with an easy heart. The only point that bothers me is not to see her first. What confidence can I have in a matchmaker’s prattle? Why, there’s no limit to what her kind will say in praise of a possible match.” Such were his thoughts. To Mama Liu he said:
“If I am to believe you, she would be an excellent wife, yes, just the right wife for me. I should just like to ask you this one thing: to find some way of my getting the merest glimpse of her and hearing the sound of her voice. Then if the general impression is favorable, the match is made.”
“See her first? It’s out of the question. But if you don’t trust me, why not go to a soothsayer and consult the little straws of fate?”
“There you have given me a very good idea. I have a friend who is an expert at conjuring spirits and telling fortunes, and his predictions have always been confirmed. I shall ask his advice. Let us wait to see what fate decides. Then I shall send for you and tell you what has happened.”
So it was agreed and Mama Liu departed.
Next day the young man fasted and bathed and asked his friend the diviner to his house for a consultation. In the house-temple lit by candles and filled with incense, he solemnly explained the business in hand, humbly bowing his head and speaking in a muffled voice as though praying to a higher being:
“The younger brother has heard of the unsurpassed beauty of Miss Noble Scent, daughter of Iron Door Follower of the Tao, and would like to take her for his wife. But only his ears have heard of her charms, his eyes have not seen them. Therefore he begs leave to ask the exalted spirit whether she is indeed so beautiful and whether the exalted spirit recommends a marriage with her. If there should be even the slightest blemish in her, he would prefer to abandon the idea of marrying her. He fervently implores the exalted spirit to give him some gracious hint, for he does not wish to forfeit all happiness by trusting in idle prattle.”
After stating his request, he made the fourfold sign on his forehead in reverence to the unknown spirit. Rising once more to his feet, he took from his friend’s hand a piece of wood from the magic luan tree, symbolizing the spirit, held it chest high, and waited with bated breath to see what would happen next. Then he heard a sound, as of a brush passing softly over paper. A pluck at his sleeve awakened him from his trance. His friend was holding out a sheet of paper. On it was written a quatrain:
Number 1:
No need to doubt this message of the spirits:
She is first in the grove of red flowers.
Yet there is cause for alarm. So much beauty attracts suitors.
Whether the marriage is happy or not – is a question of morality.
The young man reflected: “It is clear then that she is a first class beauty. That is the main thing. As for the second part of the communication, it does not mince words about the danger such beauty involves. Can it be that the melon has already been cut open? – No that is very unlikely. Let us wait and see what the second communication says. There must be another since the first one is headed Number 1.”
Again he held out the magic wood, then again he heard rustling and received the second communication, which ran:
It would be presumptuous to bank on your wife’s fidelity;
Accordingly, if the husband values domestic harmony,
He will lock the gates and not admit a fly.
The tiniest fly-dropping will spoil a jewel.
Written by Hui-tao-jen the
returned follower of the Tao.
The three ideograms Hui-tao-jen were familiar to our young man; as he knew, they spelled the surname behind which the Taoist patriarch Lü Shun-yang (Lü Yen, also known as Lü Tung-pin, b. 750 A.D.) had hidden; he was also acquainted with the patriarch’s life and personality; in his time, the young man recalled to his satisfaction, he had been a great devotee and connoisseur of wine and women. So, it was his spirit that had entered into
his friend during the seance and guided the brush. Well, yes, he had thrown a little cold water on his projects by warning him of women’s infidelity and bidding him to be on his guard. But there was no need to worry on that score. He would have his father-in-law, that old-fashioned guardian of morality, in the house to watch over his wife’s virtue. What else was Iron Door good for? Moreover, lines three and four of the second communication were a clear allusion to him. There could be no doubt that the spirit approved of his choice.
He made a bow of thanks toward the empty air, intended for the spirit of the patriarch Lü Shun-yang. Then he sent for Mama Liu, the marriage broker.
“The spirit has spoken in favor of my marriage with Miss Noble Scent. A personal inspection is not necessary. Go quickly and settle the details.” Thus dismissed, Mama Liu made all haste to the house of Dr Iron Door, and informed him that her client no longer insisted on previous inspection of his bride-to-be.
“But he did at first,” Dr Iron Door grumbled, “and by so doing showed himself to be deplorably superficial, the kind of man who attaches more importance to externals than to superior character. He is not the son-in-law for me. I must have a man of the utmost moral rigor, who takes a thoroughly serious view of life.”
Intent on her fee, Mama Liu summoned up all her ingenuity to overcome his resistance:
“If he wished at first to see the young lady, his only motive was one of kindness and tact. He was afraid that she might be too frail and delicate for married life. Once I was able to set his mind at rest on that score, he was overjoyed to hear how strictly and carefully she had been raised, and how, thanks to your guidance, she had become a veritable epitome of maidenly virtue. That decided him, and he bade me intercede with you to honor him by taking him into your worthy house.”
The Mammoth Book of International Erotica Page 34