Russell Hoban - Kleinzeit

You were there? said Kleinzeit,

I was there, said Hospital. I was there because the beach at Lesbos was hospital for Orpheus. After a certain number of days the head was kicked into the sea.

By whom? said Kleinzeit.

I didn’t notice, said Hospital. It doesn’t matter. I can see it now. There was no surf, it was a sheltered beach. The head bobbed in the water like a coconut, then moved out to sea. There was a little wake behind it as it swam out to sea. It was one of those grey days, the air was very still, the water was smooth and sleek, the water was lapping quietly at the beach as the tide came in.

In? said Kleinzeit. Not out?

In, said Hospital. The head swam out against the tide. Think of it swimming day and night, no eyes, the blind head of Orpheus.

I am thinking of it, said Kleinzeit.

Think of it at night with a phosphorescent wake, said Hospital. Think of it with the moonlight on it, swimming towards Thrace. Think of it reaching the coast, the estuary, the mouth of the Hebrus. Like a salmon it swims upstream, eh?

To the place of his dismemberment? said Kleinzeit.

To that place, said Hospital. Think of the head of Orpheus snuffling in the reeds by the river at night, sniffing out his parts. It’s dark, the moon has set. You hear something moving, like a dog hunting in the reeds. You can’t see your hand in front of your face, you only hear something moving about close to the ground. You feel the air on your face, you feel with your face the passage of something between you and the river. There is a sighing perhaps, you can’t be sure. Someone unseen walks away slowly.

He’s found his members, said Kleinzeit. He’s remembered himself.

What is harmony, said Hospital, but a fitting together?

‘Now then, luv,’ said the lady with the bosom that was good for crying on. The bosom approached in a sexy motherly way. Go on, it said, cry. A piece of paper appeared in front of it: I, the undesigned.

‘What’s this, then?’ said Kleinzeit.

‘You know very well what it is,’ said the bosom lady. ‘You haven’t signed it yet and now it’s got to be signed. Dr Bashan says you’re to sign it.’

‘I think I’d like a second opinion,’ said Kleinzeit.

‘Dr Bashan is the second opinion. Dr Pink was the first. Remember?’

‘I’m trying to,’ said Kleinzeit.

‘Then sign this and let’s get on with it. You’re not the only patient in this hospital, you know. The operating rooms are booked for weeks ahead, the staff are busy day and night. I should think you’d have a little consideration.’

‘I have a lot of consideration,’ said Kleinzeit. ‘I’m considering hypotenuse, asymptotes, and stretto. That’s a lot to consider. I want to keep my angle right even if my hypotenuse is skewed, I want my asymptotes to keep approaching the curve they never meet, I want to keep my stretto even if it can’t channel entries any more. I want to remember myself.’

‘Cor,’ said the bosom lady. ‘I think they’ve put you in the wrong kind of hospital. I’ll leave it with you now and come back later.’

The paper stayed, the bosom lady went. Kleinzeit had to move his bowels. His mind sat up but he stayed lying down. He rang for the nurse. She came, drew the curtains, helped him with the bedpan.

Kleinzeit fell asleep after supper, woke up, saw Sister standing there, blipped faster. Did it ever happen, he thought, that I saw her naked by the light of the gas fire, that we made love, that I was Orpheus with her, harmonious and profound? I can’t even shit without professional assistance.

Sister drew the curtains, hugged him, kissed him, cried. ‘What are you going to do?’ she said.

‘Remember,’ said Kleinzeit. ‘I’m going to remember myself.’

‘Hero,’ said Sister. ‘Kleinzeit does mean hero.’

‘Or coward,’ said Kleinzeit. Sister cried some more, kissed him again, went back to her duties.

Dim light, lateness. Kleinzeit rolled over, reached under the bed. Psst, he said. You there?

Hoo hoo, said Death, gripped Kleinzeit’s hand with its black hairy one. Still friends?

Still friends, said Kleinzeit.

I wasn’t trying anything on with you, said Death. I was just singing to myself, really.

I believe you, said Kleinzeit. These things happen.

Anything I can do for you? said Death.

Not right now, said Kleinzeit. Just, you know, stick around.

Twenty-four hour service, said Death.

Kleinzeit rolled on to his back, looked up at the dim ceiling, closed his eyes. Tell me more about Orpheus, he said. Am I Orpheus?

I, said Hospital. I, I, I. What a lot of rubbish. How could any one I be Orpheus. Even Orpheus wasn’t I. I doesn’t come into it. Your understanding isn’t as strong as I thought it was.

I’m not well, said Kleinzeit. Be patient with me.

You won’t find anyone more patient than I am, said Hospital. Patience is my middle name.

What’s your Christian name? said Kleinzeit.

I’m not a Christian, said Hospital. I’ve no patience with new-fangled religions. It was just a figure of speech, I haven’t any first or middle name. We big chaps just have one: Ocean, Sky, Hospital, and so forth.

Word, said Kleinzeit. Underground.

Oh aye, said Hospital.

Tell me more about Orpheus, said Kleinzeit.

When Orpheus remembered himself, said Hospital, he came together so harmoniously that he began to play his lute and sing with immense power and beauty. No one had ever heard the like of it. Trees and all that, you know, rocks even, they simply picked themselves up and moved to where he was. Sometimes you couldn’t see Orpheus for the rocks and trees around him. He was tuned into the big vibrations, you see, he and the grains of sand and the cloud particles and the colours of the spectrum all vibrating together. And of course it made him a tremendous lover. Krishna with the cowgirls was nothing to what Orpheus was.

What about Eurydice? said Kleinzeit. How’d they meet? I don’t think that’s told in any of the stories. All I know is that she went to the Underworld after she died of a snakebite.

More schoolboy rubbish, said Hospital. Orpheus met Eurydice when he got to the inside of things. Eurydice was there because that was where she lived. She didn’t have to get bitten by a snake to go there. With the power of his harmony Orpheus penetrated the world, got to the inside of things, the place under the places. Underworld, if you like to call it that. And that’s where he found Eurydice, the female element complementary to himself. She was Yin, he was Yang. What could be simpler.

If Underworld was where she lived why did he try to get her out of it? said Kleinzeit

Ah, said Hospital. There you have the essence of the Orphic conflict. That’s why Orpheus became what he is, always in the present, never in the past. That’s why that dogged blind head is always swimming across the ocean to the river mouth.

Why? said Kleinzeit. What was the conflict?

Orpheus cannot be content at the inside of things, at the place under the places, said Hospital. His harmony has brought him to the stillness and the calm at the centre and he cannot abide it. Nirvana is not his cup of tea. He wants to get back outside, wants that action with the rocks and trees again, wants to be seen with Eurydice at posh restaurants and all that. Naturally he loses her. She can’t go outside any more than he can stay inside.

He didn’t lose her because he looked back? said Kleinzeit.

That’s the sort of thing that gets put into a story of course, said Hospital. But looking back or not looking back wouldn’t have made any difference.

What happened then? said Kleinzeit.