Anais Nin - Seduction Of The Minotaur: V5 In NinS Continuous Novel (Vol V)

1959
Book V of CITIES OF THE INERIOR

SOME VOYAGESHAVE THEIR INCEPTION in the blueprint of a dream, some in the urgency ofcontradicting a dream. Lillians recurrent dream of a ship that could not reachthe water, that sailed laboriously, pushed by her with great effort, throughcity streets, had determined her course toward the sea, as if she would givethis ship, once and for all, its proper sea bed.

She had landed in the city of Golconda, wherethe sun painted everything with gold, the lining of her thoughts, the wornvalises, the plain beetles, Golconda of the golden age, the golden aster, thegolden eagle, the golden goose, the golden fleece, the golden robin, thegoldenrod, the goldenseal, the golden warbler, the golden wattles, the goldenwedding, and the gold fish, and the gold of pleasure, the goldstone, the goldthread, the fools gold.

With her first swallow of air she inhaled adrug of forgetfulness well known to adventurers.

Tropic, from the Greek, signified change andturning. So she changed and turned and was metamorphosed by the light andcaressing heat into a spool of silk. Every movement she made from that momenton, even the carrying of her valise, was softened and pleasurable. Her nerves,of which she had always been sharply aware, had become instead strands from aspool of silk, spiraling through the muscles.

How long do you intend to stay? asked theofficial. How much money do you carry with you? In what currency? Do you havea return ticket?

You had to account for every move, arrival orexit. In the world there was a conspiracy against improvisation. It was onlypermitted in jazz.

The guitars and the singing opened fire. Herskin blossomed and breathed. A heavy wave of perfume came down the jungle onthe right, and a fine spray of waves came from the left. On the beach thenatives swung in hammocks of reeds. The tender Mexican voices sang love songswhich cradled and rocked the body as did the hammocks.

Where she came from only jewels were placed insatin-lined, cushioned boxes, but here it was thoughts and memories which theair, the scents, and the music conspired to hypnotize by softness.

But the airport official who askedcactus-pointed questions wore no shirt, nor did the porters, so that Lilliandecided to be polite to the smoothest torso and show respect only to thestrongest muscle.

The absence of uniforms restored the dignityand importance of the body. They all looked untamed and free in their barefeet, as if they had assumed the duties of receiving the travelers onlytemporarily and would soon return to their hammocks, to swimming and singing.Work was one of the absurdities of existence. Dont you think so, Senorita?said their laughing eyes while they appraised her from head to toe. They lookedat her openly, intently, as children and animals do, with a physical vision,measuring only physical attributes, charm, aliveness, and not titles,possessions, or occupations. Their full, complete smile was not always answeredby the foreigners, who blinked at such sudden warmth of smile as they did atthe dazzling sun. Against the sun they wore dark glasses, but against thesesmiles and open naked glances they could only defend their privacy with ahalf-smile. Not Lillian. Her very full, rounded lips had always given such asmile. She could respond to this naked curiosity, naked interest, proximity.Thus animals and children stare, with their whole, concentrated attentiveness.The natives had not yet learned from the white man his inventions for travelingaway from the present, his scientific capacity for analyzing warmth into achemical substance, for abstracting human beings into symbols. The white manhad invented glasses which made objects too near or too far, cameras,telescopes, spyglasses, objects which put glass between living and vision. Itwas the image he sought to possess, not the texture, the living warmth, thehuman closeness.

The natives saw only the present. Thiscommunion of eyes and smiles was elating. Where Lillian came from people seemedintent on not seeing each other. Only children looked at her with thisunashamed curiosity. Poor white man, wandering and lost in his proud possessionof a dimension in which bodies became invisible to the naked eye, as if staringwere an immodest act. Already she felt incarnated, in full possession of herown body because the porter was in full possession of his, and thisconcentration upon the present allowed no interruption or short circuits of thephysical contact. When she turned away from the porter it was to find a smilingtaxi driver who seemed to be saying: I am not keen on going anywhere. It isjust as good right here, right now

He was scratching his luxuriant black hair, andhe carried his wet bathing suit around his neck.

The guitars kept up their musical fire. Thebeggars squatted around the airport. Blind or crippled, they smiled. Thefestivities of nature bathed them in gold and anesthetized their suffering.

Clothes seemed ponderous and superfluous in thecity of Golconda.

Golconda was Lillians private name for thiscity which she wanted to rescue from the tourist-office posters and propaganda.Each one of us possesses in himself a separate and distinct city, a uniquecity, as we possess different aspects of the same person. She could not bear tolove a city which thousands believed they knew intimately. Golconda was hers.True, it had been at first a pearl-fishing village. True, a Japanese ship hadbeen wrecked here, slave ships had brought Africans, other ships deliveredspices, and Spanish ships had brought the art of filigree, of lace making. Ashipwrecked Spanish galley had scattered on the beach baptism dresses which thewomen of southern Mexico had adopted as headgear.

The legend was that when the Japanese pearldivers had been driven away they had destroyed the pearl caches, and Golcondabecame a simple fishing village. Then the artists had come on donkeys anddiscovered the beauty of the place. They had been followed by the real-estatemen and hotelkeepers. But none could destroy Golconda. Golconda remained a citywhere the wind was like velvet, where the sun was made of radium, and the seaas warm as a mothers womb.

The porters were deserting before all thebaggage was distributed. They had earned enough, just enough for the day forfood, beer, a swim, and enough to take a girl dancing, and they did not wantany more. So the little boys of ten and twelve, who had been waiting for thisopening, were seeking to carry bags bigger than themselves.

The taxi driver, who was in no hurry to goanywhere in his dilapidated car, saw his car filling up, and decided it wastime to put on his clean laundry-blue shirt.

The three men who were to share the taxi withLillian were already installed. Perhaps because they were in city clothes orperhaps because they were not smiling, they seemed to be the only subjects thesun could not illumine. The seas aluminum reflectors had even penetrated theold taxi and found among the cracked leather some stuffing which had come outof the seat and which the sun transformed into angel hair such as grows onChristmas trees.

One of the men helped her into the car andintroduced himself with Spanish colonial courtesy: I am Doctor Hernandez.

He had the broad face she had seen in Mayansculpture, the round high cheekbones, the aquiline nose, the full mouthslanting downward while the eyes slanted upward. His skin was a light olivewhich came from the mixture of Indian and Spanish blood. His smile was like thenatives, open and total, but it came less often and faded quickly, leaving ashadow over his face.

She looked out the window to explore her newterritory of pleasure. Everything was novel. The green of the foliage was notlike any other greens: it was deeper, lacquered, and moist. The leaves wereheavier, fuller, the flowers bigger. They seemed surcharged with sap, and morealive, as if they never had to close against the frost, or even a colder night.As if they had no need of sleep.