The Microcosm

by Maureen Duffy

  But had they been much worse Charles was determined to see London and when they at length set foot upon London streets was more transported with joy, though with but a single penny in their pockets, than for all the height of happiness he had in former and at different times possessed.

  * * *

  ‘About the year 1755 she had worked up a novel for the press, which the writer accompanied his friend the bookseller to hear her read. Her habitation was a wretched thatched hovel, situated on the way to Islington in the purlieus of Clerkenwell, Bridewell, not very far distant from the New-river Head; where, at that time, it was usual for the scavengers to leave the cleansings of the streets, and the priests of Cloacina to deposit the offerings from the temples of that all-worshipped power. The night proceeding, a heavy rain had fallen, which rendered this extraordinary seat of the Muses almost inaccessible; so that, in our approach, we got our white stockings enveloped with mud up to the very calves, which furnished an appearance much in the fashionable style of half-boots. We knocked at the door, (not attempting to pull the latch-string,) which was opened by a tall, meagre, ragged figure, with a blue apron, indicating what might else have been doubted, the feminine gender; a perfect model for the Copper Captain’s tattered landlady, that deplorable exhibition of the fair sex in the comedy of Rule a Wife. She, with a torpid voice and hungry smile, requested us to walk in. The first object that presented itself was a dresser, clean it must be confessed, and furnished with three or four coarse delft plates and underneath an earthen pipkin, and a black pitcher with a snip out of it. To the right we perceived, and bowed to, the mistress of the mansion, sitting on a maimed chair, under the mantelpiece, by a fire merely sufficient to put us in mind of starving. On one hob sat a monkey, which by way of welcome, chattered at our going in; on the other, a tabby cat of melancholy aspect: and at our author’s feet, on the flounce of her dingy petticoat, reclined a dog, almost a skeleton! He raised his shagged head, and, eagerly staring with his bleared eyes, saluted us with a snarl. ‘Have done, Fidele! These are friends.’ The tone of her voice was not harsh, it had something in it humbled and disconsolate: a mingled effort of authority and pleasure. Poor soul! few were her visitors of that description; no wonder the creature barked. A magpie perched on the top rung of her chair, not an uncomely ornament! and on her lap was placed a mutilated pair of bellows: the pipe was gone, an advantage in present office; they served as a succedaneum for a writing-desk, on which lay displayed her hopes and treasures, the manuscript of her novel. Her inkstand was a broken teacup; the pen worn to a stump; she had but one! A rough deal board, with three hobbling supporters, was brought for our convenience; on which, without further ceremony, we contrived to sit down, and entered upon business. The work was read, remarks made, alterations agreed to, and thirty guineas demanded for the copy. The squalid hand-maiden, who had been an attentive listener, stretched forward her scrawny length of neck with an eye of anxious expectation! The bookseller offered five! Our authoress did not appear hurt: disappointments had rendered her mind callous; however, some altercation ensued. The visitor, seeing both sides pertinacious, interposed, and at his instance, the wary haberdasher of literature doubled his first proposal, with this saving proviso, that his friend present would pay a moiety, and run one half the risk; which was agreed to. Thus matters were accommodated, seemingly to the satisfaction of all parties; the lady’s original stipulation of fifty copies for herself being previously acceded to.’

  Account of a visit to Mrs. Charlotte Charke by Mr. Samuel Whyte of Dublin; Taken from Baker’s Biographiaa Dramatica (1, p 106), 1812.

  sick o I am sick indeep. many waters have gone ovary. words slip wordshift run counter to counterpane. i spy with my fickle eye white walls walz. spray of winter jessamine at the bedside seaside i do like to be beside bedside or is it forsythia. the white walled town with flicker of yellow sunsplash or underwater dance of dazzle of filtered light through the collander of the waves. the flowers burn piercing yellow flames arrowheads through the mind’s flesh. enough. they hurt me. turn away.

  and on the other side there is the wall only the wall which i am not permitted to pass through. you are walking through the forest where the trees are people and suddenly there is the wall as far as the eye can see. you try to build it quickly as soon as he said it so that it will not be too high as he sits beside the bedside calm with the paper and pencil in his head taking your words down shorthanded the evil little marks pinning you to the pad. take this to mr jollop the chemist. sixteen grains of. the potion to be drunk secretly. oblivion. what is it doctor. you wouldn’t understand my child do not bother your poor little head. just rest and try not to worry too much. i have written the magic formula on the paper. behind that screen is my desk where i keep a wingless fly in a phial. when i take out the stopper he crawls across the inkpad onto the paper leaving his little footprints which only mr jollop and i understand. behind his little window of frosted glass he pounds the paper to dust mixes it with blood of a new born child and feeds it to a white rat dropped at the full moon who in his turn secretes it in the form of small pellets which you took away in your handbag. untouched by human hand and very hygienic. and so as soon as he says there is a wall you build it very quickly so that it shant be too high because you know in a minute he will ask you to climb it and if you refuse. but it goes on growing and there is broken glass embedded in the top because what is on the other side is forbidden and dangerous. on the other side there is a.

  locker with the flowers in a tall slim glass. the yellow flowers burn. i fiori gialli incendono. incendiary blooms. she was like a tall yellow iris against the blue sea and sky. arent you afraid you two girls going all that way by yourselves and you know what the men are like there. yes i am afraid but she is tall and strong and cool in the hot sun her skin smelling of pine needles no one would dare and anyway all the girls are doing it now in their last year. all day we lay on the warm sand or splashed in the sticky salt sea her face dappled with light thrown back by the water. the fine fair hair lying along the sleek brown skin. and at night we would go down to the hotel bar. sit over there marie while i get the drinks. sometimes there were boys in from outside but they were always polite because they were in the hotel. they would smile and buy us drinks and play the juke box. then the day before we left it was we went to see the cathedral and coming out into blinding light into a crowd we got separated and suddenly there were faces all around me dark young men’s faces scowling hands plucking at my clothes. wait for me. dont leave me. and voices saying things i didnt understand. pushing me down the steps and a boy with thick lips saying kiss kiss dont leave me. and then there she was pushing them aside smiling and taking my arm walking me on and the boy with thick lips called out something i didnt understand. in the bar that evening sit there marie while i get the drinks there was only one table empty two places and a man leaning back with his eyes half closed watching her go up to the bar in her slim blue slacks tan shirt with the sailor collar and suddenly he said as if we were in the middle of the conversation i don’t understand women today what you want is a good. and i didn’t hear the rest because i didn’t understand and anyway she came back then and he stood up swaying a bit and said i hope you have a very happy love life and then he went towards the door and i watched him the eyes following wondering if hed make it and what hed meant. he was drunk wasnt he. what did he mean. yes he was drunk she said. what did he say. and suddenly i remembered i hadnt heard properly and i didnt understand so i said something about having a happy love life and she laughed and said well that was a nice thing for anyone to wish you drunk or not. drink up and lets enjoy our last evening and we did. and when we got home it was time for her to go off to university and although i wrote she was never a good correspondent and we lost touch. never touched. what do i mean. i didnt understand.

  lost touch. gone away. marie youre wandering again. found wandering woolgathering again. maries down among the daisies. making chains to catch a. youll never catch a boy like that
. boys like you to look as if youre interested in them not as if youre miles off in a dreamworld. dont you want to get married. i can see i shall never have a grandchild to push out in the gardens on a fine afternoon and sit knitting tiny doll’s clothes for with all the other women of my age. deres a pritty liddle granny’s pride an toy. mother i am too young to marry too young to be a bride. used to make me cry in English lessons. the lily the rose the rose i lay. how should i love and i so young until betty howarth told me a lily was a before it was and a rose was a after. doctor bailey beareth the bell away.

  but he doesnt stick the needle in because hes a doctor. against the medical code. struck off the list for interfering in your. lie down on the couch and let me examine you. touch of rubber casing warm flesh nearly cried out like. probing. he hurt me. yes mrs pacey i think we can safely say that the needle has had the required effect done its job in fact. let me explain what happens quite simply and then you wont be frightened. its better if youre not frightened. better for you. just relax. dont fight it. let it happen to you. youll feel nothing at first. except the needle. and when we all lined up for vaccination some of the girls fainted. roll up your sleeve to above the elbow. open your eyes. open your eyes. no i cant look.

  why cant you look at me. why do you shut your eyes as if i were hurting you. you know i wouldnt hurt you. i love you. yes i do i love you. then why do you if you love me. mother said men were all the same. it was nasty dirty rude words. you wont learn all those common things at a private school. nasty things from dirty boys marie i love you. i want you. dont you understand. yes guy i do understand really. its all right i know you have to. but you dont enjoy it. enjoy it. i mean you dont ever. i dont understand. what dont i. you dont. o whats the use. dont hurt me guy. hurt me. hurt. it was a lie.

  i did feel the needle and then.nothing. nothing at all. only lying awake waiting. he didn’t do it of course. not put it in himself like that but he made her. the sister. never had a sister. once was quite enough goodness me o yes. youll find out when your turn comes. its not all lovey dovey the dear little sweet thing smelling of talc bite its little bottom having a baby. conceived in sorrow and brought forth in pain. when they first put you in my arms i thought you were an ugly baby you were skinny and red with anger and how should we manage on your father’s salary. he was in a safe job of course. a very decent job. i always think when i see those old war films how he helped to prepare the country for all that at his ministry and how lucky we were during the slump. such a nasty word like a woman with a sagging bosom. sit up straight marie. and we used to have fun in those days i can tell you not like youngsters today. visiting cards and tennis though that was a mixed blessing of course in the end your father having that sad accident. struck with a tennis ball right in the place where it hurts a man most and setting off some strange mechanism so that they grew and grew until they were as big as a tennis balls themselves and now he has to have his trousers made specially at extra cost though you must never tell anyone of course like aunt sadie going mad and killing her baby with the breadknife and granny who died with a whisper a growth.

  its the second one that does it. sister coming in with the second one that strikes at once like lightning flash a different one this time that sets you free as long as you dont resist it. lets you say wild things you would never dream in your waking or even sleeping.

  i hate my mother. i am pushing her into a washtub of bubbling sulphuric acid. the flesh strips from her bones clean bones bleached. smell the good clean smell of bones bleached with our powder whiter than if you dried them in the sun and fresh air. mother you are the skeleton in father’s cupboard. daddy daddy what are you doing. dont bother your father marie hes up in his den busy with his painting. what are you painting daddy let me see. come in marie and shut the door. dont let your mother know. its a surprise. its a skeleton daddy. i made it from a model kit. its a female skeleton. you see the wide pelvic bones. they call that the iliac flare. youve got it. yes daddy. its a surprise. you shall help me. yes daddy. you see that little pot of paint. yes daddy. its luminous. i dip my brush in it and i paint these bones carefully so that they will glow in the dark. yes daddy. and then i shall hang it in the coal cupboard so that when she opens the door it will be. yes daddy. a surprise. you see the iliac flare. thats so you can have babies. here and here you see and there and there under your little dress. give daddy a kiss. yes daddy. now run downstairs and dont let your mother know our little secret. no daddy no.

  your father of course has always been a very kind man like that. he has his hobbies and his work. a very kind man like that. what will you do now your holidays are over. you’ll have to find a job. what have they taught you at school. a nice post as someones secretary i think. yes mother. with your shorthand and typing. im not very good at shorthand mother. nonsense. youre good enough for them. you have all a managing director could require as a personal secretary. what were you good at at school. English mother. o poetry and drama dreams the stuff theyre made of but no use to you when it comes to getting down to the serious business of living. such pretty things we learnt at school. i used to stand up in front of the class and say them but you forget all about that when you grow up. spelling thats useful particularly for a secretary and punctuation of course and punctuality and a good appearance. you want to make the most of yourself. your typing speed is 120 your figures are o yes very good at figures. mother. and ive always taught you to sit up straight and not let your bosom slump and to walk with your head held high swinging the hips so that the eyes are drawn towards. dont look at me as i walk out of the room. she walks very nicely our little girl and has a very trim little figure. your father is good at figures too he has to be in his job of course. its expected of him. eyes watching you from behind boring into your. not from behind no not the needle. not in my.

  only your thigh dear no need to be frightened. no need to turn over. just roll up your pyjama leg. sister. i wont hurt. there did that hurt. no sister. sister is gentle and her hands are. you just relax and close your eyes and if theres anything if youre worried ring for me.

  indeep. the flash. flesh. like sunstroke sunflash shift wordshift myshift. thunderflash. falling. where are you. i dont know. yes you do. look around. i cant. i cant open my eyes. the water. its too heavy. open your eyes. its so cloudy i cant see anything. where are you. im at the bottom of a well. my head is heavy i cannot get up the well is cold and deep. do you want to get up. i must. i cant stay here im frightened. there are things around me in the darkness in the mud. at the bottom of a well. it isnt the well its the goldfish pond in the garden daddy’s goldfish bowl sunk in the earth. i can see them now. theres one above me hanging in the water just waving its tail like water weed. its watching if i move itll know im here. they eat their young the small fry. you must realise marie that nature is cruel. but why mother. things are made the way they are dont ask silly questions. were as nature made us and we have to keep her rules and nature’s rules are the rules of society. if you marry a blackman you have a black baby thats one of nature’s rules so society very wisely sees to it that black and white dont mix. cats and dogs do mother they dont seem to mind about different colours. but theyre animals marie you funny little girl you cant compare us with animals. arent they nature we study them in nature study. now youre just being silly and obstinate. you must ask your father hell put an end to this nonsense. why are some of the goldfish red and others black daddy do they mind being different colours. i dont suppose it matters in their world. like kittens daddy. you see that big fat one red hiding its head in the weeds thats your mother and that wicked black one with the gold plates on his back and sides as if he were wearing armour thats me and the slim bright girlfish with the feathery fins and tail is you. there we all are and all quite different. why doesnt mother like black people daddy. theres a girl in my class from ceylon shes a princess and she has a little red dot on her forehead but mother wouldn’t let me invite her to tea. your mother knows best marie we all have to agree that mother knows
best. whats that at the bottom of the pond daddy. that o thats the eggs of a pond snail i put them in to keep the pond clean scavengers they live off the slime but the goldfish eat their eggs if they dont hide them and grow big and fat on them like the one with its head in the weeds. like mother. but we dont tell her do we its our little secret.

  shes watching me if i move shell know im here and shell. but i must get out of the slime the mud or ill never be born. try to move very gently crawl through the slime perhaps she wont. shes coming shes seen me coming down on me dropping through cloudy water. burrow in the slime perhaps shell. help me somebody help me. opening her mouth a dark gaping wound to engulf me. help me help. he wouldnt stop her he didnt help me sister. hush now youre upsetting the other patients. but he didnt stop her. never mind its all over shall i sit with you for a bit hold your hand. try to relax. when i close my eyes im still there in the dark at the bottom. then keep them open. look at the flowers. your husband brought them for you didnt he. think about the flowers.

  every friday they had to report the reps coming into the director’s office mr carrol will see you now fingering ties spotted with grease beer one with a rent in the seat of his trousers. have you risen on your graph or are your spirits low a descending scale. you must do better young man you are lagging flagging the firm cant afford to pay for your cosy chats with customers unles theyre paying off. brisk you must be or we shall be brusque the brush off. yes sir mister sir with the door on the jar and the outside office all agog and agiggle but the one they were really waiting for was come in mr pacey im the one who sets the and shut the door take a chair and a cigarette. hes going far that one got his sights set high not just anyone out of the typing pool not any common tiddler but a sleek little girlfish all goldfish wholl grace his table and ripple in his. cocksure they all called him. i didn’t understand. all combed and powdered they were with their mouths painted in a pout for him to come dashing in throwing his hat to one winking at another joking careless yet watchful waiting for me to come to the door with eyes down and mr carrol will see you now and he would be serious in a moment holding the door open for me seeming almost shy. even mother liked him when he came to tea he had such nice manners and he never once tried to like it says in the back of the books go too far do wrong.