cwilleford.theburntorangeheresy-第15部分

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rk；　as　it　is　for　all　artists。　Every　day　I　must　work　for　at　least　four　hours；　and　to　have　frequent　interruptions…〃
　　〃That's　no　concession　at　all；　sir。　I'll　dateline　my　piece　'Somewhere　in　Florida。'　I　know　how　you　feel；　of　course。　The　Galt　article　was　damned　unfair　to　you；　I　know…〃
　　〃How　do　you　know？〃　Again　the　sad；　sweet　smile。
　　〃I　know　Galt's　attitude　toward　art；　that's　how　I　know。　He's　got　a　one…track　mental　set。　He　invariably　puts　everything　he　sees　into　a　highly　subjective　pattern…whether　it　fits　or　not。
　　〃Is　not　all　art　subjective？〃
　　〃Yes。〃　I　grinned。　〃But　didn't　Braque　say　that　the　subject　was　not　the　object？〃
　　〃Perhaps。　I　don't　know　whether　Braque　said　this　himself；　or　whether　some　clever　young　man…a　man　like　yourself；　M。　Figueras…said　that　he　said　it。〃
　　〃I…I　don't　recall；〃　I　replied　lamely；　〃where　the　quote　originated；　not　at　the　moment；　but　he　is　supposed　to　have　said　it　himself。　And　if　not　。　。　。　well　。　。　。　the　play　on　words　has　a　subtle　validity；　for　。　。　。　the　art　of　our　times。　Don't　you　think　。　。　。　？〃
　　〃The　word　'validity'　cannot　be　used　validly　for　the　art　of　any　time。〃
　　I　hesitated。　He　was　testing　me。　By　going　into　theoretical　entebechy　I　could　have　answered　him　easily；　but　I　didn't　want　to　argue　with　him…I　shrugged　and　smiled。
　　〃By　validity；〃　he　smiled　back；　〃do　you　mean　that　the　eye　contains　the　incipient　action？〃　The　corners　of　his　eyes　wrinkled　with　amusement。
　　〃Not　exactly；　sir。　Cartesian　dualism；　as　an　approach　to　aesthetics；　no　longer　has　intrinsic　value…and　that's　Galt's　fault。　He　has　never　been　abbe　to　transcend　his　early　training。　Not　to　be　summational　is　the　hardest　task　facing　the　contemporary　critic。　To　see　the　present　alone；　blocking　out　the　past　and　future；　calls　for　optic　mediation。〃　My　face　grew　warm　under　the　force　of　his　steady　blue　eyes。　〃I　don't　mean　to　run　Galt　down；　sir；　or　to　give　you　the　impression　that　I'm　a　better　critic　than　he　is。　It's　just　that　I'm　twentyfive　years　younger　than　Galt；　and　I've　looked　at　more　contemporary　art　than　he　has…〃
　　〃Do　not　be　so　nervous；　M。　Figueras。　（？）Debemos　dar　preferencia　al　hablar　del　espanol？〃
　　〃No。　I　think　in　Spanish　when　I　speak　it；　and　I　prefer　to　think　in　English　and　talk　in　French…〃
　　〃What　are　you　talking　about？〃　Berenice　said；　sipping　from　her　glass。
　　〃The　difference　between　Spanish　and　English　and　French；〃　I　said。
　　〃I　hate　Spanish；〃　Berenice　said；　winking　at　me。　〃It's　got　too　many　words　for　bravery；　which　makes　a　person　wonder　sometimes　about　the　true　bravery　of　the　Spanish　character。〃
　　〃And　French；　I　think；〃　Debierue　said　in　English；　〃has　too　many　words　for　love。〃　He　reached　over　and　touched　my　hair。　〃You　have　nice　curly　yellow　hair；　and　she　should　not　tease　you。　e　now；　drink　your　orange　juice。〃
　　The　paternal　touch　of　his　hand　unknotted　my　inner　tenseness；　and　I　realized　that　the　old　artist　was　trying　to　make　things　easier　for　me。　At　any　rate；　my　guilty　feelings　had　been　dissipated　by　his　casual　acceptance　of　both　me　and　my　professionalism。　My　awe　of　the　old　painter　was　also　going　away。　I　was　still　mightily　impressed　by　him；　and　I　felt　that　our　conversation　was　going　well
　　Any　writer　who　is　awed　in　the　presence　of　the　great　or　the　near…great　cannot　function　critically。　I　respected　Debierue　enough　to　be　wary；　however；　knowing　that　he　was　not　an　ingenuous　man；　knowing　that　he　had　survived　as　an　individual　all　of　these　years　by　maintaining　an　aloof；　if　not　an　arrogant；　silence；　and　a　studied　indifference　to　journalists。　Debierue　realized；　I　think；　that　I　was　on　his　side；　and　that　I　would　always　take　an　artist's　viewpoint　before　that　of　the　insensitive　public's。　He　had　read　my　work　and　he　remembered　my　name。　I　could　therefore　give　him　credit　for　knowing　that　I　was　as　unbiased　as　any　art　critic　can　ever　be。　To　see　his　paintings；　which　was　the　major　reason　for　my　odyssey；　I　now　had　to　gain　his　plete　confidence。　I　had　to　guard　against　my　tendency　to　argue。　Nor　should　I　bait　him　merely　to　obtain　a　few　sensational　opinions　about　art　as　〃news。〃
　　〃I　am　curious　about　why　you　immigrated　to　Florida；　M。　Debierue。〃
　　〃I　almost　didn't。　For　my　old　bones；　I　wanted　the　sun。　When　more　than　fifty　years　of　my　work　was　burned　in　the　fire…you　knew　about　the　fire？〃
　　〃Yes；　sir。〃
　　〃A　most　fortunate　accident。　It　gave　me　a　chance　to　begin　again。　The　artist　who　can　begin　again　at　my　age　is　a　very　fortunate　man。　So　it　was　to　the　new　world　I　turned；　the　new　world　and　a　new　start。　Tahiti；　I　think　at　first；　would　be　best；　but　my　name　would　then　be　linked　somehow　to　Gauguin。〃　He　shook　his　head　sadly。　〃Unavoidable。　Such　parisons　would　not　be　fair；　but　they　would　have　been　made。　And　on　the　small　island；　perhaps　the　bus　would　pass　my　studio　every　day　with　American　tourists　to　stare　at　me。　Tahiti；　no。　Then　I　think；　South　America？　No；　there　is　always　trouble　there。　And　then　Florida　seems　exactly　right。　But　I　did　not　e　right　away。　I　knew　about　the　war　in　Florida；　and　I　have　had　enough　war　in　my　lifetime。〃
　　〃The　war？〃　I　said；　puzzled。　〃The　war　in　Vietnam？〃
　　〃No；　no。　The　Seminole　War。　It　is　well　known　in　Europe　that　these；　the　Florida　Seminole　Indians；　are　at　war　with　your　United　States。　Is　it　not　so？〃
　　〃Yes；　I　suppose　so；　but　only　in　a　technical　sense。　The　Seminoles　are　actually　a　very　small　Indian　nation。　And　it's　not　a　real　war。　It's　a　failure　on　the　part　of　the　Indians　to　sign　a　peace　treaty　with　the　U。S。；　that's　all。　Once　in　a　while　there's　a　slight　legal　flare…up；　when　some　Florida　county　tries　to　force　an　Indian　kid　to　go　to　school　when　he　doesn't　want　to　go…although　a　lot　of　Indians　go　to　school　now　voluntarily。　But　there　hasn't　been　an　incident　with　shots　fired　for　many　years。　The　Seminoles　have　learned　that　they're　better　off　than　other　Indian　nations；　in　a　legal　way；　by　not　signing　a　treaty。〃
　　〃Yes。〃　He　nodded。　〃I　learned　this　from　M。　Cassidy；　but　I　wrote　some　letters　first　to　be　certain。〃　He　pursed　his　lips　solemnly　and　looked　down　at　the　countertop。　〃I　will　die　in　Florida　now。　This　much　I　know；　and　a　Frenchman　does　not　find　it　so　easy　to　leave　France　when　he　knows　he　will　never　see　it　again。　There　are　other　countries　in　the　world　that　would　have　weled　me；　M。　Figueras。　Greece；　Italy。　The　world　is　too　good　to　me。　I　have　always　had　many　good　friends；　friends　that　I　have　never　met。　They　write　me　letters；　very　nice　letters　from　all　over　the　world。〃
　　I　nodded　my　understanding。　It　was　perfectly　natural　for　strangers　in　every　country　to　write　to　Debierue；　although　it　had　never　occurred　to　me　to　write　him　myself。　The　same　thing　had　happened　to　Schopenhauer　in　his　old　age；　and　he　had　been　as　pleased　as　Debierue　to　receive　the　letters。　Any　truly　radical　artist　with　original　ideas　who　lives　long　enough　will　not　only　be　accepted　by　the　world　at　large；　he　will　be　admired；　if　not　revered；　for　his　dogged　persistence…even　by　people　who　detest　everything　he　stands　for。
　　But　there　was　a　major　difference　between　the　old　German　philosopher　and　this　old　French　painter。　Schopenhauer　had　accepted　the　flood　of　congratulations　on　his　birthdays　during　his　seventies　as　a　well…deserved　tribute；　as　a　vindication。　Debierue；　on　the　other　hand；　while　grateful；　seemed　bewildered　and　even　humbled　by　the　letters　he　received。
　　〃But　I　am　not　sorry　I　came　to　Florida；　M。　Figueras。　Your　sun　is　good　for　me。〃
　　〃And　your　work？　Has　it　gone　well　for　you；　too？〃
　　〃The　artist〃…he　looked　into　my　eyes…〃can　work　anywhere。　Is　it　not　so？〃
　　I　cleared　my　throat　to　make　the　pitch　I　had　been　putting　off。　〃M。　Debierue；　I　respect　your　stand　on　art　and　privacy　very　much。　In　fact；　just　to　sit　here　talking　to　you　and　drinking　your　fresh　orange　juice…〃
　　〃The　fresh　frozen；〃　he　emended。
　　〃。　。　。　is　an　honor。　A　great　honor。　I'm　well　aware　of　your　reluctance　to　show　your　work　to　the　public　and　to　critics；　and　I　can't　say　that　I　blame　you。　You　have；　however；　on　occasion；　permitted　a　few　outstanding　critics　to　examine　and　write　about　your　work。　You've　only　been　in　Florida　for　a　few　months；　as　I　understand　it；　and　I　don't　know　if　you've　pleted　any　paintings　you'd　be　willing　to　show　an　American　critic。　But　if　you　have；　I　would　consider　it　a　privilege…〃
　　〃Are　you　a　painter；　M。　Figueras？〃
　　〃No；　sir；　I'm　not。　I　had　enough　studio　courses　in　college　to　know　that　I　could　never　be　a　successful　painter。　My　talent；　such　as　it　is；　is　writing；　and　I'm　a　craftsman　rather　than　an　artist；　I　regret　to　say。　But　I　am　truly　a　superior　craftsman　as　a　critic。　To　be　frank；　in　addition　to　the　personal　pleasure　I'd　get　from　seeing　your　American　paintings；　an　exclusive；　in…depth　article　in　my　magazine　would　be　a　feather　in　my　cap。　The　sales　of　the　magazine　would　jump；　and　it　would　be　the　beginning　for　me　of　some　very　lucrative　outside　assignments　from　other　art　journals。　As　you　know；　only　one　photograph　of　any　single　one　of　your　paintings　would　be　art　news　big　enough　to　get　both　of　us　international　attention…〃
　　〃Do　you　sculpt？　Or　work　with　collage；　ceramics？〃
　　〃No；　sir。〃　I　tried　to　keep　the　annoyance　I　felt　out　of　my　voice。　〃Nothing　like　that。　I'm　quite　inept　when　it　es　to　doing　work　with　my　hands。〃
　　〃But　I　do　not　understand；　M。　Figueras。　Your　critical　articles　are　very　sensitive。　I　do　not　understand　why　you　do　not　paint；　or…〃
　　〃At　one　time　this　was　a　rather　sore　point　with　me；　but　I　got　over　it。　I　tried　hard　enough；　but　I　simply　couldn't　draw　well　enough…too　clumsy；　I　guess。　If　I　didn't　have　a　welldeveloped　verbal　sense　I'd　probably　have　a　tough　time　making　a　living。〃
　　〃I've　got　to　go　to　the　restroom；　Mr。　Debierue；〃　Berenice　said　shyly。
　　〃Certainly。〃　Debierue　came　around　the　bar　and　pointed　down　the　hallway。　〃The　door　at　the　far　end。〃
　　I　climbed　off　the　stool　when　she　did　and　looked　down　the　hallway　past　Debierue's　shoulder。　Berenice　was　undoubtedly　bored；　but　she　also　undoubtedly　had　to　go　to　the　can。　At　the　end　of　the　short　hallway　there　were　two　more　doors　en　face；　in　addition　to　the　door　to　the　bathroom　straight　ahead。　One　door　was　padlocked；　and　one　was　not。　The　padlocked　door；　with　its　heavy　hasp；　was　probably　Debierue's　studio　and　formerly　the　master　bedroom　of　the　original　owner。
　　I　took　the　Polaroid　camera　out　of　its　leather　case；　and　checked　to　see　if　there　was　an　unused　flash　bulb　in　the　bounce　reflec