Laszlo Krasznahorkai - War & War

They saw the palace of Phaistos in the distance, said Korin, and marveled at the famous steps quite close to them on the western side, but took their leave of the Kommosians who, bearing their news and fears, hurried inside, and having obtained directions to the harbor, set out down the steep twisting path, and it was still the morning, soon after sunrise, just as the four of them were making their way to the sea, Korin told the woman, that it happened, that suddenly the sky above them darkened, that there was darkness in the morning, a dense, heavy, impenetrable darkness that covered them all in an instant, and they stared at the sky terrified, stumbling on through the incomprehensible dark, hurrying ever faster, finally in a desperate dash as fast as their legs could carry them, and it was pointless gazing at the sky in blind, hopeless fashion, because the darkness was total and terminal, there was no way out of it, no escaping it, because it was eternal night that had enveloped them, Bengazza cried out in terror, his whole body trembling, perpetual night , Korin whispered to the woman by way of explanation, at which the woman, who was still standing by the oven, possibly because of the unexpected whispering turned around in fright before attending to her pots and pans, giving them a stir, then sighed, stepped over to the ventilation window, opened it and looked out, wiping her hand across her brow, then closed the window again and sat down in her chair by the oven with her back to Korin and waited patiently until the food in the pan was ready.

Down in the harbor it was impossible to move for the crowd: there were local Luvians, Lybians, Cycladesians and Argolisians, but also people from Egypt, Cythera, Melos, Cos, and, a number from Thera who were a considerable throng by themselves, in other words, a very mixed gathering, said Korin, all in the same state of panic and confusion, and maybe it was precisely the way they were rushing to and fro, shouting, falling to their knees then running on that calmed Toót and his companions sufficiently for them to gain an advantage over those who had lost their heads, so instead of dashing into the sea as so many of those who had streamed to the harbor had done and were still doing, they withdrew from the general hysteria into an obscure corner, and remained there a good while, and for a long time could think of nothing but how best to prepare for death; but eventually, when they saw that the catastrophe had not yet overtaken them, they began to calculate the chances of escaping, of running away , and, according to Bengazza, there was some such chance, the odds today being no longer than they had been yesterday, for there was the sea in front of them, said Bengazza, and all they had to do was to discover whether there was a boat that could accommodate all four of them, and they should at least try, he said, pointing to the torchlit harbor, the bay , and so, by merely speaking about the possibility of escape, he succeeded in encouraging the others, all but Kasser, who fell silent as though Bengazza’s words had had no effect on him, but hanged his head not saying a word, and when the others agreed that they should make the effort, that they should after all try and set off for the shore, he continued sitting in that corner, hanging his head, not moving, showing no desire to leave, so that in the end they had to pick him up bodily, for, as he explained a good deal later once they were safely on board a ship bound for Alasiya, he felt that the terrible darkness above them and the ash that began soon enough to fall on their heads signified the imminent coming of the last judgment, and that they should not hope or try to escape, nor weigh the chances of doing so, and he personally abandoned hope once he saw the flakes of ash drifting in the air, for he felt, and afterwards knew, knew authoritatively, that the whole world — and he was thinking particularly of Knossos — was in flames, was certain that the earth was on fire, as were the worlds above and below it, that this really was the end, the end of this world and of worlds to come too, and, knowing this, he could not speak, could not explain, and therefore allowed himself to be carried by the others to the shore, allowed himself to be cast this way and that by the maddened crowd, let himself be thrown on board a ship, though he was not aware of what was happening to him or around him, then sat at the front of the ship, at the prow , said Korin, and, Korin added, this was how the chapter ended for him, with Kasser sitting at the prow, gazing into vacancy, the prow rising and falling along with him as the whole craft rises and falls in the waves, and this is how I still see him, said Korin, swaying and dipping at the prow of the ship, Crete enveloped in utter darkness behind them, and somewhere in the uncertain distance, Alasiya, their refuge, ahead of them.

One thing the young lady should know, said Korin as he entered the kitchen the next day to take his place at the table, was that when he first arrived at this point of the narrative back in the far-distant records office, the point when they disappear on a boat to Alasiya, he was somewhat puzzled, for while he found the story , or whatever it was, utterly enthralling, as he had already said, he understood nothing of it, and believe me, young lady, this is no exaggeration, for as the young lady herself might have discovered, a person might think he has understood what he has read the first time, but doubt everything the second time round, even to the extent of doubting whether he had had the feeling of understanding in the first place, and he, he being the person in question, had found himself in such doubts the second time round, questioning the authenticity of his first reading, for Toót’s speech was fine in itself and he had noted the fact of the four of them being pulled from the water, had seen them enjoying a few delightful weeks getting to know an earthly paradise, then watched them facing the last judgment, and this was all very interesting, for people do write this kind of thing, but having considered the totality, he did still want to ask what it was about— so what were Korin’s English words — and admittedly this was a crude way of putting the question, perhaps even a little coarse , but this was precisely the form in which the question had arisen at the time, in as rough and ready form as that, in the feeling that this was all very wonderful, brilliant, wholly engrossing etcetera , but in the end, so what , what did it mean to anybody, what was it all about, why should anyone invent something like this, what was the writer secretly or overtly trying to do, was he retreating from the world by bringing these four characters out of the mist and thick fog, tossing them to and fro in a timeless universe, in an imagined world lost in the mists of legend?; what indeed was the point of it he asked himself, said Korin, and continued asking the question for a long time with much the same result, which was in fact no result at all, for he had no better answer to it now than he had back then in the records office where he first read it, raising his head from the manuscript for a moment to take breath and think, just as he had raised his head a few moments ago when he was busily transferring the document to his home page, and now this All Crete episode was there on his home page , Korin triumphantly announced, open to the world’s inspection, or to be truly precise, open to the inspection of eternity, and the young lady would know what that meant, that is to say anyone could now read the Cretan episode, by which he meant, the young lady should understand, that anyone at any time in eternity could read it, for all they had to do was to click on the site in the Alta Vista search engine, one click and they were there, and there it would remain , Korin enthused, his eyes fixed on the woman, thanks to Mr. Sárváry who had helped him set up the site, the whole first chapter was there for eternity, just a few clicks away, he raved, but if he thought this news would brighten the life of the woman sitting by the oven he was sorely mistaken because he hadn’t even succeeded in getting her attention, and she continued sitting bent over in her chair, occasionally turning to the burner, removing a pot or turning the heat up under it, shaking or stirring with a wooden spoon whatever was bubbling inside it.