Nicholas Mosley - Hopeful Monsters

The person who was asking the question was saying — 'But are you saying that what you call "objective" is simply what happens?'

Wittgenstein, it was true, had been looking towards the door.

I left the doorway and went out on to the lawn. There were people standing holding plates with their backs to the wind; paper napkins were blowing like the tops of waves. I was looking for the girl who had held her hand out to Wittgenstein: I thought — There could be a painting of that: of a meeting, and something quite different going on. Then — How old would she be: sixteen? seventeen? Then — But what happens, I mean, if something quite different is happening.

The girl had gone to the end of the lawn where there was undergrowth beneath trees. There was a fallen willow which went halfway across a small pond or stream. The girl was climbing out on to the trunk of the tree. She had long fair hair which hung like shields on either side of her head. I thought — Her legs, yes, might almost be clappers of a bell.

I went and stood by the roots of the fallen tree. The girl was sitting on the trunk with her legs dangling above water. I said 'He didn't mean to be rude.'

The girl said 'I don't mind if he did mean to be rude. I hate this party.'

I said 'Why?'

She said 'No one says what they mean.'

I climbed out on the log and sat down slightly apart from her, facing the same way; my feet dangling above the water. I said 'It's sometimes difficult to say what you mean.'

She said 'Why?'

I said 'Because you often don't know quite what you mean.'

She seemed to think about this. She looked down into the water.

She said 'I know what I mean.'

I said 'What?'

She said 'Nothing.' Then — 'I'm Suzy.'

I said 'Yes.' Then — 'How old are you?'

She said 'Seventeen.'

'Are you still at school?'

'No.'

'What do you do then?'

'I want to go to Paris.'

I thought — Well this is what is happening: we are sitting side by side; we are looking down towards water; the light is coming through the leaves, the shadows.

I said 'What do you want to do in Paris?'

She said 'I want to study music'

Then why don't you go?'

'My father won't let me.'

'Why won't he?'

'He says I'm too young.'

'Have you any friends with whom you could stay in Paris?'

She looked round at me. She had a round face and a soft mouth. I thought — You mean, it is something on that other level that is happening?

Then — Of course, she is sexy.

She said 'Why are you asking me these questions?'

I said 'Have you a boyfriend?'

She said 'No.' Then — 'I had a friend at school with whose parents I could stay in Paris.'

'So it's not the money — '

'No.'

'And you can't study music here — '

'There's nothing happening in music here.'

I thought I might say — Well why not come with me to Russia: there may be something happening in music there.

It seemed that as a first step I might move along the log and put my arm around her and kiss her. I found I managed to do this. After a time she said 'That was nice!'

I thought — Dear God, and you think you can't get to Paris!

There were the people on the lawn holding their plates like gauges in which rain might be collected: in the house there was still presumably Wittgenstein in his niche. I thought — But we are being given messages, yes, as if we are in contact with gravity.

Then — But perhaps I should not be thinking of going to Russia, or to Paris: I should go to the north of England and do some work for the unemployed.

Then — Why did I think this?

I had been carrying a bottle of wine when I had come across the lawn: I had put it down by the roots of the tree. I stopped kissing Suzy and went to get the bottle. I thought — You mean, on this strange level, what you notice is just that one thing happens after another?

I noticed that Suzy's father was coming towards us across the lawn. I crawled back, with the bottle of wine, and rejoined Suzy on the tree.

Suzy said 'Does that mean you'll take me to Paris?'

I said 'I think it means something perhaps like I'll take you to Paris.'

She said 'And what does that mean?'

I said 'It means we'll see.'

Suzy and I were sitting with our arms round each other looking down into the water. We drank from the bottle of wine. Suzy's father had arrived at the roots of the tree and was watching us. I thought — Oh this might be a magic tree that will get someone or other to Paris!

Suzy's father said 'What are you two doing?'

Suzy said 'We are sitting on this tree.'

Suzy's father said 'Come back to the house.'

Suzy said 'That is my father.'

Suzy drank from the bottle of wine. I drank from the bottle of wine. I turned to offer it to Suzy's father.

There was a thick pall of smoke drifting across the garden. It was coming from some next-door garden, or perhaps from a building that was on fire. I thought I might say — Well that's nothing to do with me.

Or — We have been working on the problem of how to get Suzy to Paris.

Suzy's father said 'There's a building next door on fire.'

I thought — You mean, all this might be a part of some composition like that of a painting?

There were some firemen in metal helmets who had come on to the lawn. I thought — Or they are Greeks and Trojans -

— Or perhaps I am drunk!

The guests who had been in the house were coming out on to the lawn. They were looking at the pall of smoke, then turning away and coughing. Wittgenstein was on the lawn: he was looking up at the smoke as if he was considering its colour, its texture. I thought — Well what indeed do you make of this aesthetically?

Suzy said 'We've been talking about going to Paris.'

Her father said 'You're going to Paris?'

I stood up on the log. I was holding Suzy's hand. I thought — Indeed we are on a tightrope; do I not have to hold her hand!

Suzy's father said to me 'You're not taking her to Paris!'

I thought I might say — No, I'm going to Russia: or to work for the unemployed.

I noticed that Melvyn and Mullen had come out on to the lawn. Mullen was watching me. Melvyn was talking to Wittgenstein.

Wittgenstein was turning away as if annoyed. I thought — But indeed these images, these ideas, these people, come into my head -

— Put in a figure here: another one turns up there -

— This is reality?

People were moving off through the house, coughing.

Suzy and I walked across the lawn. I was still holding her hand. Her father followed us. Melvyn and Mullen were watching. When we were near the house Mullen said to me 'I didn't know you would be here!'

I thought I might say — Ah, you think we know anything!

Wittgenstein said 'This smoke is not poisonous.'

Suzy's father said 'How do you know?'

Wittgenstein said 'It is the smell.'

Melvyn went down on one knee and held his arms out towards Suzy and me. He said 'Beauty and the Beast!'

Suzy's father said to Suzy 'You know these people?'

The firemen seemed to be trying to clear the lawn. People were going in twos and threes towards the house holding handkerchiefs to their noses. I thought — Then there will be just our small group left in the picture.

Mullen said to me 'Have you thought about what we talked about?'

I thought — Why, what did we talk about?

I said'Yes.'

He said 'And what do you think — '

I thought — Of physics? Of politics? I said 'It is a matter for aesthetics.'

Melvyn had put his arm round Suzy. Suzy's father was saying 'Why did you think that I said you couldn't go to Paris?'

Wittgenstein was looking at me. He said 'Thank you.' I wasn't sure if I had heard this, or if he had said it to me. Then he moved off towards the house.