10.
The next day, then, Julie escorted me to the bureau of women's mobilization. On the way, she explained that I could have signed up in Versailles, but that in the district where we were going, which is not such an important place, there would be less competition and I'd have a better shot at landing a job quickly. She conducted me to the office door and then departed, probably to gossip somewhere, after instructing me to rendezvous with her in the rue de la Gare.
I went in and found a deserted waiting room with a closed wicket. It's stupid, but I'm always intimidated by a closed wicket. I walked around noisily, I coughed, but no one opened it up.
So I decided to knock, softly at first, but then with all my force. The wicket didn't open, but I could hear someone moving around on the other side. By my faith, the mustard was up my nose! I cried, "Is it today or tomorrow you mean to open up your office?"
I had no sooner let loose that phrase, not very polite, I will admit, when I began to repent it, considering that the person behind the wicket was a government appointee, and to speak impolitely to a government appointee is a grave matter. I thought I'd better save myself, but, just as I was about to make a run for it and forget about what I had come for, a little door beside the wicket opened. A voice told me to enter quickly and not let in the breeze, and I was reassured because the voice was soft, soft, even feeble, the way a sick person has trouble speaking. I came in and found myself in the actual office. The man who had spoken was the only occupant. Despite the heat, he was all bundled up. His hair and his beard were a faded pale yellow, and his face was nearly the same colour.
Now, here is our conversation. To be more clear and quick I'll put it down as if it were a scene from a comedy.
MOI -- "Monsieur, I have come to sign up for mobilization."
LUI -- "We'll get to that right away, mademoiselle, but have a seat, let's talk a bit, it will do me good. Think about it, I'm here by myself all day, no one ever comes, and I have nothing to do. I'm horrendously bored. What an existence!"
MOI -- "Then the mobilization isn't working?"
LUI -- "It worked very well at first. Everyone came through here, in waves and crowds. I couldn't keep up. I didn't eat. I didn't sleep. I did nothing but write. What an existence! But now that everyone who wanted to enrol has enrolled, no one comes. You are the first in two months. Two months without seeing anyone! What an existence!"
11.
MOI -- "If you don't have anything to do, why doesn't your minister give you another job?"
LUI -- "I believe they've forgotten me. That happens in the administration. Listen, I've read about a sentry who, by the order of Napoleon, was placed in front of the house of an important person. The great person moved out. There was nothing left to guard inside. But they left the sentry in place. Napoleon fell, but the sentry remained. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that he's still there today. To me it's clear: I am the forgotten sentry. What an existence!"
MOI -- "Monsieur the sentry ... excuse me, monsieur the employee. If you'll allow me, time is pressing. Would you be so good as to enrol me?"
LUI -- "You want to go already? That's not very friendly. You're not happy here? Go on, sit down. We'll have a little dinner party. Try some of that medicinal pâté. It's perfect for a cold."
MOI -- "I don't have a cold."
LUI -- "Me neither, but you never know. Take some."
MOI -- "You are very thoughtful. I'll take some so as not to disoblige you."
LUI -- "Have some purgative syrup as well. In a glass of water, it's delicious. If you'd prefer some laxative pills --"
MOI -- "Thank you, with the pâté, I'm fine. But, from what I can see here, are you a pharmacist?"
LUI -- "I am a poet. To be a poet and to pass one's life in a bureau of inscription where one does not inscribe, what an existence!" (He takes a paper from his desk.) "This is my latest poem. I was working on it when you knocked. I was in the throes of inspiration, which is why I left you waiting outside. Excuse me. Would you care to hear my latest poem?"
MOI -- "That would do me pleasure and honour, but I have to warn you I won't understand it. I'm not in poetry, I'm in cooking."
LUI -- "Even better. Molière read his verses to his cook. My latest poem. (He declaims.)
O pale young girl, for rosy skin / A drop of Deschiens' Hemoglobin.
I'll also read you my next-to-last poem. (He declaims once more.)
What colours the cheek as it makes the tongue whet?
It's simply the syrup of pomme de reinette.
Well, mademoiselle, what do you say to that?"
MOI -- "I like it. It's easy to understand and not too long. But decidedly you are in the pharmacy."
LUI -- "In the poesy pharmaceutical. I'm going to tell you how existence -- and what an existence -- has compelled me to plunge in there. Help yourself to a little more pâté, charitable visitor, and hear my lamentable story."
12.
When the employee offered to tell me his life story I looked at the clock. I saw that with all this conversation I had missed my train. As the next one was not due for an hour, I said to monsieur, "Go on with your tale."
He began, "My name is Bile (Alcide-Désiré). My arrival in the world was a source of great joy to my parents, who had awaited a child a long time. Thus the second part of my given name: Désiré. I was a pampered and celebrated baby. I was also a vigorous baby. It took two nurses to satisfy my appetite. Sometimes I was given a bottle: I used it to juggle. Juggling at six months! It was because of this that they added the name Alcide to Désiré. I'm sure you're aware that Alcide was Hercules' middle name."
"I passed rapidly through my childhood and youth; they were happy, but don't add much to the story. But then -- what an existence! -- when I was twenty, my father, who was an employee of the administration, got me a job in his department. It was at this moment that my poetic calling revealed itself. It was to be the cause of my misfortunes. First, it arrested my advancement. Nine times out of ten, whenever my supervisor came to review my work, he'd find me busy working on a verse. At the same time, falling prey to inspiration, I would interpolate fragments of verse into the briefs I was responsible for writing. One such report reached the eyes of the minister. You can imagine his surprise and annoyance. I wasn't dismissed, thanks to the fine present my father slipped him, but, scoffed at by my peers, distrusted by my superiors, I was from that time condemned to obscure employment. What an existence!"
"I wanted to make it up to myself by earning an illustrious name as a poet. An intense desire to be published took hold of me. I brought a publisher a poem to which I was particularly attached. He received me very amiably, but declared himself overstuffed with manuscripts. I went to all the journals and leading reviews. Some editors had the courtesy to ask me to read out my verses. They found them admirable, but always the lack of space, or some other reason, precluded their accepting them."
"At last, a friend pointed me, as a good starting place, to a publication called Spirit and Body, which had as a subtitle the motto: A healthy body for a healthy spirit. I flew more than ran to that editor's office."
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