Marlon James - The Book of Night Women

— I just tell one woman to whisper to one man and send it down the field, Callisto tell Homer when she recalling what happen. Homer outside the kitchen getting water from the well. Lilith by the well too with her bucket. Both watching the afternoon. Homer cuss.

— That’s why me can’t abide by niggerman, you know, that why they have no damn use, the lot o’ them, she say.

— How we fi rebel without the mens? No them have the strength? Lilith say.

— Yes, they strong in arm and strong in leg, but they head weak. They don’t have the bearing for planning and thinking and waiting, ’specially waiting. That be woman work. If you did—

— If me did come from the Africa me would know. Me hear that the last ten time you tell me. Well, this not be the Africa, Homer.

— Don’t me know it. No, this be nigger hell, but we soon turn it into nigger heaven. Just like Saint-Domingue. Me have word from the massa himself. He get letter from Barbados hearing that the Saint-Domingue nigger trying to unite the island. You hear that? They going call it a republic. Me hear that, me almost want cry.

— You? You so dry you can’t even spit.

— Watch you mouth. But you right. Me all cry out, me no have no crying left in me. What a way you have sass when you deh with nigger. Round white man you can barely talk, unless him singing Irish shanty.

Callisto laugh.

— Massa Humphrey estate getting restless ’cause he dismiss Robert Quinn, Homer say.

— Nigger ’fraid they not goin’ be no Christmas this year, Callisto say.

— Nigger have bigger thing to worry ’bout than no damn backra day. The fruit ripe and in three day we pluck it.

Callisto laugh again and say she have to sneak back to the field.

— The way them whitey stupid and careless, me all catch forty wink yesterday, she say and run.

— And the mens? Lilith say.

— Set a dog loose only when you need he to run.

— Massa Humphrey was looking for Robert.

— Looking for him?

— Yes. Me don’t know why.

— Maybe he checking if he pack and ready. Quinn wasn’t there?

— Robert did gone.

— Oh.

Homer pause for a long, long bit. — Don’t make a white man work you again, Lilith. You is not them and them is not you, no matter how soft he touch you these days.

— No man working me.

— Stop the lying, chile. The man work himself right through you bed and now he working right through you head.

— Me say me not—

— You just call the damn man Robert! Two time, fool! Two time! Me just hear you.

— Me. . me. .

— From me was ten year, me be slave. Me never ask for it and no man have the right to give it to me. If white man want to fuck you, there nothin’ you can do ’bout that, but don’t make him fool you, that be your business.

— He not like the other mens.

— True indeed, your man special. He so special he goin’ married you quick. That must be it, he goin’ married a nigger gal — pardon me, mulatto gal — and breed up plenty quadroon pickney. Then you goin’ have pretty house and you goin’ even get you own slave to whip. Just like he still be whipping and killing nigger.

— Stop it.

— You stop it. Look down the well, gal, look in this bucket, you know what you seeing? A nigger who not going be a woman till she take womanhood for herself. And you goin’ have to shed blood to do it. There be four nigger on this estate that we can’t trust. Four nigger who getting them business fix tonight. Don’t make it be five.

— Me not ’fraid of you. And me not ’fraid of death either.

— You think so?

— You is the one who say me have the darkness in me.

Homer silent. — Look, you and me not got no cause to disagree, she say. Lilith grab her bucket and turn to walk away.

— You ever hear them talk ’bout Venice?

Lilith stop.

— One, two time, she say.

— Right. And they talk ’bout it like they not supposed to talk ’bout it.

— Yeah.

— Come with me.

Homer take Lilith inside the great house, through the kitchen, turning right down the hallway. They pass the sitting room first, then the conservatory. Further down near the end be the library, where Massa Humphrey is most of the time when he not sleeping. Lilith don’t remember it. She go inside and see a dim, dusty room with shelf and shelf of book that pile so high that they near touch the roof. The shelves swing right round the room and stop at the wide windowsill that look out to the Blue Mountain. That be where Massa Humphrey put him desk. Homer look outside through the window. Then she go back to the door and look left, then right.

— Miss Isobel upstairs, Homer say. — She and the dressmaker trying to figure how to make the wedding dress hide the belly.

Homer go behind the desk and start look through books on the shelf to the right. She run over the books with her finger and stop. Then she run over again. She pull one out and cuss, then pull out the one right beside it.

— Ah! Homer say and put her lips to the top like she goin’ kiss it. She blow and dust scatter like smoke. She open couple page and run across the page with her finger.

— This be the book, the very one here, she say and put the book down on the desk. Lilith move over.

— Me can’t read write-up word, she say. Homer hiss and pick up the book.

Entry the ____

I’ve lost track of days and dates and time is a monster to me. Venice! Quinn impressed on me that pantaloons were quite common and knee breeches the mark of a true gentleman. I asked him how would he have known and this remark seemed to have wounded him greatly. I apologised and such was his good, cheery nature that he let bygones be. He makes me think of the West Indies and what it would be like. Maybe the Irish do have more fire in their chests. Ah, Venice, the Madonna of whores, the whore of Madonnas. The Piazzetta is enough to make Virgils or Blakes out of the most common of men. Alas, it is Carnevale and I venture forth to meet my destiny. Let her be pleasing in bosom and bawdy in speech, for this is Sodom. Onward!

Entry the ____

Two days in Venice. Sodom AND Gomorrah.

Entry the ____

Encountered a few of the fairer sex last night. Fairer than our Prince Regent’s own mistress, I daresay. But do I call them fair? They seemed ripe for the plucking, for the man with a fat purse, of course. One in particular strikes me, but alas I am not as bold as Quinn.

— Enough of this shit, Homer say and turn five more page, then backwards two. — See it deh! This one, she say, and poke the book twice.

Entry the _____

The most despicable of villains is better than I. Oh, the malcontent that resides in this poor, poor flesh. I regret that grief brings me to verse and makes a mockery of it. But how was I led? Oh God, but that this poor flesh. . None of this was my intention, but one day God will lord his judgement over me. The night was young and already filled with young men with the devil in their hearts and blackness in their souls. I will try to be curt. We came upon ladies of the night, women of the oldest profession, who spoke a smattering of English. One I took fancy to and I daresay it was mutual. She carried her fan in the right hand, across her face when she looked at me and I know the ways of Venice. I knew an arrangement was to be had. Then she placed the fan in her left hand and opened it. That confirmed her intentions, surely that must have been so! She led me to her boudoir. Quinn, out of magnanimity, took her friend, who was rather unfed and not as fair. She reached for my sword, so daring was she! and I, I will not repeat such things here, for they are best left out. But she was a thief and she played me for a fool. Thinking I was asleep she rummaged through my things until I made a noise and startled her. She ran for the door but I was swift and I caught her. She had a little knife. It felt like but a little prick but the little knife was deep in my shoulder. Maybe it was the sight of my own blood that made the devil possess me. I forgot all that was intelligent, decent and manly. She grabbed my face and scratched me. This made me even more furious and less sensible. My hands were the devil’s and they worked her. Quinn rushed in and used all of that Irish strength to pull me away. I would not be denied. I started to fight him as well, but he overpowered me. The woman cursed and cursed, saying that she will go for a magistrate for she knows we are British. Then go, you filthy whore, Quinn says and brushed her away. I’m no whore says she in English, sputtering, I remember. And right there both myself and Quinn realised that this lady, if she can be called that, knew or was perhaps accustomed to far beyond her station. A woman seeking her own pleasure was she, perhaps no different from us young men who come to Venice Carnevale with too much blood in our constitutions. There was no question that against two Britons this woman would be listened to. Oh, she went on about how she would tell how she was dragged from her lodgings and ravished, she a poor young lady of the city. And how these men were from the British Isles who were at war with their cousins the French. Quinn grabbed her by the hand and dragged her out the door. I was not listening for it, so the first clubbing sound shocked me to the very bone. Two more came hence. I looked towards the doorway and there was Quinn, wiping his cane and telling me that we must leave Venice that very night. He would arrange it. I try not to think of it. This demon within me. I had not been so furious, so bereft of good sense since I divested Thomas Thistlewood of his front teeth and punched his eye shut at that tavern in the East End. Quinn stopped me there as well. I remember that is how we met. Now he comes along, I daresay to save me from my own madness. Now resides inside me the hope that this will never be known and the fear that one day it will.