Hanif Kureishi - The Last Word

‘What did Conrad say?’

‘“The discovery of new values is a chaotic experience. This is a momentary feeling of darkness. I let my spirit float supine on that chaos.”’

‘Floating supine on that chaos,’ repeated Harry. ‘That’s what I need.’

‘It’s the values bit I would attend to, if I were you.’

Harry noticed that Mamoon was looking at him with some amusement. Harry said, ‘Am I a weak young man, do you think? Or someone who has more pleasure than they deserve?’

‘Pleasure?’ Mamoon laughed. ‘Most people don’t know how to maximise their pleasure, Harry, they sexualise their pain. Surely you’ve noticed that most people live without love, spending their lives trying to find people they’re not turned on by.’

‘Why?’

‘Think about it.’

‘Could that possibly be a picture of you, sir?’

Mamoon leaned forward in his chair and said, ‘I hate to express a view, but you insist on forcing me. I never want to be too clear. Nothing confuses like clarity. The best stories are the open ones, those you don’t quite understand. But my idea of these matters is very simple: the loves you describe are very reduced encounters, of course. Not relationships, no. They couldn’t be described as such. They’re addictions, or anti-relationships. Perhaps you only like to be with people you hate?’

‘How so, sir?’

‘Relationships which don’t develop become sadistic. There has to be an exchange which develops both participants: there must be some sort of transformation, or new thing, otherwise there is violence. The violence of those who wish to explode out of a situation.’

‘Do you know that well, sir?’

Mamoon shrugged. ‘Mutual transformation is rare, as good things are. In my view, a person should live as they wish until they find someone they want to be faithful to. After all, as you say, one can’t suck oneself off.’

‘Exactly.’

Mamoon went on, ‘I think we’ve said enough for today. I feel the need to lie down for some time and think about what you’ve made me say.’ He smiled at Harry. ‘Why don’t you invite your girlfriend to stay here? I would like to see her.’

‘You would?’

‘I have the feeling that a young woman’s presence would make me more voluble.’

‘How come?’

Mamoon closed his eyes and said, ‘Perhaps it is again time for me to be reminded of the finer and baser things. When Victor Hugo was buried, you couldn’t find a whore in all of Paris. They were too busy paying their respects. That was a man — and he still has a show on in the West End.’

‘Right.’ Harry collected his things and began to pad backwards down the carpet towards the door.

But before he got out, Mamoon opened his eyes and said, ‘You might find that you can’t buy your sexuality off the peg in some sort of one-size-fits-all fantasy — that crass bourgeois idea, the morality of slaves. If you thought about it seriously, you would see that people have to shape and form their sexuality out of what they’re given. But it’s more like writing a book than reading from a script.’

‘Thanks.’

‘My pleasure. How is our little psychonarrative — my monument, your hauntology — coming along?’

‘It’s getting there, sir. But there’s some considerable distance to go.’

‘Good. There always will be, I suspect. I hope you are turning me into a story I can enjoy. Am I interesting? I’m so looking forward to being surprised by how I come out.’

Harry said, ‘You will be very surprised.’

‘Why?’

‘The truth is a tattoo on your forehead. You can’t see it yourself. I am your mirror.’

‘You. Fucking hell.’

‘Bad luck.’ Harry stopped for a moment. ‘I must ask, have you thought about whether I could visit and interview Marion?’

‘Why bother with her? There are always women. They come and go, apparently. So what? Don’t pursue them. Let them flock to you.’

‘Why do you refuse, sir?’

‘I’ve said it’s not a good idea. You’ll only irritate her. As if the poor woman hasn’t been through enough already.’

‘What exactly has she been through?’

‘Get out.’

‘There is one more thing, sir. Your backhand still needs work.’

‘Yes, I thought so. We must do that. I want to get back in physical shape again. I need you to encourage me through some stomach crunches and press-ups on the push-up bar. I need my body to work again. It might come in useful some day.’

Harry hurried away, but Liana was waiting outside for him, as he anticipated she would be, since she had no other company apart from Julia. She walked beside him through the fields, wanting to talk with him. When she said talk she meant she wanted him to listen. It was some relief to listen because he was exhausted after what he’d said to Mamoon, as if he’d attended, without wanting to, a down-to-the-bone therapy session.

She said, ‘You know me well enough, Harry, to see that I am a woman of longing.’ She wanted to talk about how much she wanted to get out of ‘the mud’, which was how she had begun to refer to the country. ‘The country smells of shit,’ she said. ‘Mamoon likes it, since it reminds him of back home. But now I need to get to London, and we must raise money to buy a flat. I hate to be so far from my hairdresser. My clothes are falling apart. We will give parties and dinners. You know I am keen to meet Sean Connery and the Gandhi actor. But in the meantime, I am giving a dinner for Mamoon nearby. Will your girlfriend attend, and then join us for a few days? I am so weary, Harry. Perhaps she will cheer us all up? Is she funny? I would so like someone out of the ordinary to come here.’

‘The invitation from both of you is very kind, but I am uneasy about inviting her,’ Harry said. ‘Alice is from a council estate, with a schizophrenic father. She didn’t go to university, and her brother’s in prison.’

‘For what?’

‘Drug dealing and burglary. She got into art school, but otherwise she’s uneducated. She read fashion magazines in her council house as if she were studying samizdat material, and, somehow, found a job in fashion. She’s not well paid, but she loves clothes and takes wonderful photographs of them. But as for literary talk — I can only say Valentino is her Dante and Alexander McQueen is her Baudelaire.’

‘The Roman maestro is her Dante? Once I took his hand in my city, as I did that of Fellini. Please, do invite her. Mamoon works but won’t complain too much if people come to the house and don’t irritate him. If he takes against them, of course, they can abandon all hope.’

Harry said, ‘The other morning, when I drove Mamoon into town to see his chiropodist he said he wished he had a shotgun.’ He did Mamoon’s ludicrously posh voice, ‘“Would anyone notice if we eliminated some of these young people? Would anyone care when there are so many of them just hanging about?”’

Liana said, ‘He says the same about cyclists. But if someone doesn’t come, I’ll scream like a banshee. Will you bring her to Mamoon’s birthday dinner — anyone young is welcome.’

‘I will ask her. I know what she’ll say.’

‘What?’

‘“What will I wear?”’

‘A woman after my own heart. Oh Harry, as Dante the famous writer says, “Tonight is the beginning of always. . Amore e’l cor gentil sono una cosa. ”’

‘Come on Boswell, are you a real man or are your stories all made up like mine?’ cried Mamoon, always keen on a little lethal competition after a morning keeping culture alive. ‘My nuts are not even sweating! Make me run! Don’t you want to kill the jumped-up wog who has stolen your white women? Take your chance with murder at last! What risk have you ever taken?’