Eric Chevillard - Palafox

And why not break stones? Why not work, be useful, take children for walks in the square, or harnessed to a fine barouche take tourists through town turning monuments to see into monuments seen, rid attics of rats, watch the herds, harvest bananas for us from up in the stratosphere, or find truffles for us six feet underground, guide blind men through the maze of streets, gather the hay, pull the plow, clear trees, load the timber, maneuver the press and the noria, we lack workers, Algernon enumerates a few of the careers that are wide open to Palafox, and those he forgets we willingly add, save the unlucky buried beneath rubble or under avalanche, a little barrel of rum around his neck, carry coded messages to our spies, return to the dovecoat with microfilm, or place mines beneath the hulls of enemy ships.

Why not entrust him to me, Cambrelin proposes — who secretly hopes to learn through proximity the art and technique of pilot — fish, to then catch a big blue shark and at last get his revenge on life, which is to say on women who reject him, finding him too young then, the next day, much too old for them, adding with a bit of meanness you stink of algae. Baruglio has perfected an anti-venom serum, now he needs the toxin, Pierpont has an insecticide that he wants to test — for different reasons, the three other zoologists covet Palafox equally. Zeiger is planning an ornithological expedition which will cross the Sahara, if he manages to find some camels, and will then make his way to Asia which he expects to cross on mule back, if he manages to find some mules, before undertaking the long return voyage via Northern Siberia and the Laplands, so that was it, he needed a sixth reindeer for his team. Algernon pretends not to understand. He won’t part with Palafox for anything, the animal cost us so much, in oats, in water fleas, in white mice, which is not to begin to mention Olympia’s upkeep. We intend to get something out all of this, if not some fabulous profit, at least to break even. However, Palafox’s market value remains well below what we’ve spent thus far in upkeep, in the cost of sponges alone to clean up after him, we’re not even close — and yet this one here, come closer Mesdames come closer, not only will it absorb and scour but, do not fear Mesdames come closer, is so powerful it will clean on its own once you teach it the motions, if you are slow and patient with it, and will whistle while it works, whose presence will serve as a definitive deterrent against burglars and neighbors who come to borrow, what cynicism, margarine.

Certainly, we would be wrong to sell him to the first housewife or coral-collector to come calling. Piecemeal retail is the way to go. One example of a thousand — but we’ll list them all, you’re getting to know our tricks — Palafox will be of interest to jewelers, knowing that his tusks weigh, one two hundred seventeen, the other two hundred twenty six pounds, so 217+226, four hundred forty-three pounds of pure ivory to sell, to chisel, to polish, which trinkets will then be aged with walnut stain, having belonged to Yong-Io, of the Ming Dynasty, and which will then be easily sold off — knowing that the pearl from his shell, sliced thin and set in the gossamer net of the rose gold crown, will add sparkle to Madame Fontechevade’s conversation, above all when our old rejuvenated friend will have set the pearl sold with it into a ring, and wear it around her neck, so that the finery is completed, this magnificent necklace of alternating claws and teeth, a claw a tooth a claw etc. - knowing then that the multicolored back of his carapace, hollowed, bared, varnished, and lined with velvet, will be fitted with a silver lid. In this way, Madame Fontechevade will make use of a superb jewelry box in which to keep her booty safe. Or a candy-dish, or why not a sewing kit. Or a makeup kit with all the paraphernalia — because Palafox will prove of interest to cosmetics barons and perfume makers — horsehair brushes, silk brushes, pearl combs, down powder-puffs, brushes made of delicate hairs, musk and civet extracts, blush for cheeks and shadow for lids, rouges made from tallow and carmine (that lover who places a kiss on those painted lips, in addition to that adorable little mouth, kisses too hundreds and hundreds of crushed and pressed Mexican cochineals, then melted into a tube of animal fat, it seems normal to us that he would be alerted to that, if he were looking for a pretext to escape, he’s got it). One more word on this subject — amber-a pretty, vague word, is actually an intestinal secretion. The gray amber Palafox produces will be used in the making of heady perfumes… but let us leave the general’s wife to her boudoir. Palafox will be of interest to milliners, clever scheming monarchists who confect queenly coiffeurs for their clients out of ribbon and rags and the solitary aigrette of a crowned crane. Feathersellers will buy the black and white remexes from his wings, out of which they will design costumes for the stage. Thus disguised, the girl from the chorus line becomes irresistible, infinitely more desirable than a plain woman, the clot of spectators swollen to bursting with desire would pay anything to touch her (there are those nonetheless who remain stone-faced, there are those who take offence, those who think it’s a ruse). Furriers and skinners will line up as well. Palafox’s fur is doubtless our most valuable commodity, we will negotiate accordingly. The artisan will do with it as he pleases, this partisan of the royalist plot, tailoring for some arrogant lady far richer than she is cold a panoply fit for Russian princesses, coat, muff stole, toque, mittens and linings for boots, or instead elect to treat with moth-repellant this silky bedside throw, its four paws outstretched, its head and tail intact. At the hour when lions drink, others are trampled underfoot, flabbergasted carnivorous carpets, perfectly inoffensive if they slip into our dreams, it is absolutely time for us men to go to sleep.

(Tan or tannin, according to Webster, is a brownish or yellowish substance found in plants and used in tanning, dyeing, and as an astringent, making skin rotproof. Webster’s also says that tannin can produce ink, perhaps that’s the secret of those books that become immortal? No of course, what an idea, still we should admit to having gotten our hands on some of this ink, a barrelful, as a joke, for fun, gallons and gallons of the ink, and another barrel, defiantly, in order to last, in order to be read until the end of time, day and night until all the lights go out for good.) Tanned therefore, then curried, mollified, Palafox’s leather will find its way into the hands of a fine leather craftsman, and from there, emblazoned with a crest, provided with a zipper, on the pilot’s shoulders, one of these brave men who even as we write this are bombarding enemy villages, if all is going as planned. But we can nonetheless hope that it will be allocated differently, that the girdle makers and bookbinders will fight over his glossy, flexible skin. By their own admission, there is no finer material to work with than galuchat, named after its discoverer, Monsieur Galuchat, who was the first to have the idea to use the skin of a shark to slim down the silhouette of his wife, fat Madame Galuchat. We will happily pit them against the upholsterers, leather-workers, glove makers and bookmakers, who will not hesitate to outbid the others to get their hands on the piece, since crocodile pumps, it seems, are back in style.

Palafox’s nasal horn won’t be on our hands for long either. They’ll fight over that too. A persistent rumor in Asia, spread by traffickers, attributes astonishing properties to it. Ground, crushed, mixed with a little water, isn’t it said to supply those unlikely to tolerate their profiles in a mirror with renewed vigor and vitality, whether disgraced lovers, flaccid fellows, dried out old men, or limp little fuckers? Crushed, ground, mixed with a little water, we stand by it.