Boris Akunin - All the World's a Stage

And worst of all, with whom? An actress, that is, a creature who is bound to be unnatural, spoilt, false, accustomed to turning heads and breaking hearts!

But that was only half the problem. The second half was even more humiliating. This feeling of amorous infatuation was not mutual, it was unrequited, there was not even the slightest sign of interest from the other party.

In past years so many women – beautiful and intelligent, brilliant and profound, infernal and angelic – had bestowed their adoration and passion on him, but the most he had ever done was allow them to love him, almost never losing his own cool composure. But this one had declared: ‘I belong only to myself!’ And she had looked at him as if he were a bothersome fly!

In this way Erast Petrovich moved on, without even noticing it, to the next stage – of resentment.

Why, belong to whomever you wish, madam, what business is that of mine? I have fallen in love? How could I ever get such nonsense into my head! He laughed once again (this time not in surprise, but anger). He ordered himself to put this prima donna with the jarring pseudonym out of his mind immediately. Let them work out for themselves in that little theatre of theirs who was playing these vile tricks with vipers on whom. Merely being in that madhouse of theirs was dangerous for the psyche of a rational individual.

Erast Petrovich’s will was steely. He had decided, and that was the end of it. He did his evening gymnastics and even ate dinner. Before going to sleep he read some Marcus Aurelius and turned out the light. And in the darkness the apparition descended on him with renewed force. Suddenly her face appeared, with those eyes that looked straight through him, and he heard that gentle, deep voice. And he had neither the strength nor – even worse – the desire to drive away this Distant Princess.

Fandorin tossed and turned until dawn, attempting every now and then to rid himself of the enticing vision. But he was obliged to admit that the dose of venom was too strong and his organism had been poisoned irrevocably.

He got dressed, took his jade beads and set about the problem properly, in real earnest. And so began the third stage – the stage of comprehension.

I am in love, to deny it is absurd. That is one. (He clicked a little green sphere.)

Evidently, without this woman my life will be miserable. That is two. (Another click.)

Which means that I have to do whatever will make her mine – it is that simple. That is three.

Such was the entire chain of logic.

He felt better immediately. For a man of action such as Fandorin, a clearly defined goal stimulates a burst of positive energy.

First of all he had to amend the current constitution, which made absolutely no provision for such a sudden somersault on the harmonious path to old age.

A man walks through that field, the crossing of which is the living of one’s life, calmly contemplating the smooth line of the horizon, which appears to be gradually brightening and moving closer. The path he treads is pleasant, his stride is steady. The clouds eddy calmly in the sky above his head – no sun and no rain. And suddenly there is a peal of thunder, a flash of lightning, and a furious lance of electricity transpierces his entire being, darkness swoops down onto the ground, he can see neither the path nor the horizon, he cannot tell which way to walk and – even worse than that – whether he should walk in any direction at all. Man proposes and God disposes.

The electrical vibration swept through Fandorin’s body and soul. He felt like a tortoise that has suddenly lost its shell. It was terrifying and shameful, but the sensation was beyond expression in words, as if… as if his entire skin was breathing. And also as if he had been dozing and had suddenly woken up. To put it in more melodramatic terms: he had risen from the dead. I seem to have read my own funeral rites too soon , thought Erast Petrovich, telling his beads faster and faster. For as long as life goes on, it can throw up any kind of surprise – either happy or catastrophic. And moreover, the most significant among these surprises are combinations of both the former and the latter.

Fandorin sat in an armchair, watching the window frame slowly filling up with light and focusing his bewildered mind on the changes that were taking place within him.

That was how Masa found him when he glanced cautiously in at the door after seven o’clock in the morning.

‘What has happened, master? Since yesterday you haven’t been yourself at all. I haven’t pestered you about it, but this worries me. I’ve never seen you like this.’

After a moment’s thought, the Japanese corrected himself.

‘I haven’t seen you like this for a long time. Your face has become so young. Like thirty-three years ago. I think you must have fallen in love!’

Fandorin gaped at his clairvoyant servant in absolute amazement and Masa slapped himself on his gleaming pate.

‘Just as I thought! Oh, this is very alarming! Something must be done about it.’

This is my only friend, who knows me better than I know myself , thought Erast Petrovich . It is pointless trying to conceal anything from him, and in addition, Masa has an excellent understanding of female psychology. Here is a person who can help!

‘Tell me, how does one win the love of an actress?’ Fandorin asked, not beating about the bush, but going straight to the point, and speaking in Russian.

‘Genuine rove or make-berieve?’ his servant enquired in a businesslike tone.

‘How’s that? What does “make-believe love” mean?’

Masa preferred to speak of these delicate matters in his native language, which he regarded as more refined.

‘An actress is the same as a geisha or a courtesan of the highest rank,’ he began explaining with an expert air. ‘For a woman like that, love can be of two kinds. It is easier to win her acted love – she knows how to act it out superbly. A normal man does not need anything more than that. In the name of such a love a beautiful woman may make certain sacrifices. For instance, crop her hair in proof of her passion. Sometimes even cut off a piece of her little finger. But no more than that. But sometimes, although quite rarely, the heart of such a woman is transfixed by genuine feeling – the kind for which she might consent to a double suicide.’

‘Oh, go to hell with your exotic Japanese ideas!’ Erast Petrovich exclaimed furiously. ‘I’m not asking you about a geisha, but an actress, a normal European actress.’

Masa pondered.

‘I have had actresses. Three. No, four – I forgot the mulatto from New Orleans, who danced on the table… I believe you are right, master. They are different from geishas. Winning their love is much easier. Only it is difficult to tell if it is acted or genuine.’

‘Never mind that, I’ll puzzle it out somehow,’ Fandorin said impatiently. ‘Easier, you say? Much easier in fact?’

‘It would be really easy if you were a director or an author of plays or if you wrote articles about the theatre in the newspapers. Actresses acknowledge only these three types of men as superior beings.’

Remembering the smile that had lit up Eliza’s face when she took him for a theatre critic, Fandorin fixed his consultant with an intent gaze.

‘Well? Go on, go on!’

Masa continued judiciously.

‘You cannot be a director, for that you need to have your own theatre. Writing reviews is not difficult, of course, but much time will pass by before you make a name for yourself. Write a good play, in which the actress will have a beautiful part. That is the simplest way of all. I have engaged in literary composition. It is not a difficult business, and even enjoyable. That is my advice to you, master.’