Read Online Satantango by László Krasznahorkai - Free Book Online Page A

boy some two hundred yards on. But Irimiás does not hear him or pretends not to have heard, his head raised high he is striding down the middle of the road, slicing the darkness with his hooked nose and sharp chin. The kid tries again: “Don’t you want to see the photograph?” Irimiás turns slowly to look at him. “What photograph?” Petrina has caught up with them. “Do you want to see?” Irimiás nods. “Stop beating about the bush, you little devil,” Petrina hurries him. “You won’t be cross?” “No. OK?” “You must let me hold it!” the boy adds and reaches into his shirt. In the photograph they are standing in front of a street vendor, Irimiás on the right, his hair combed and parted on the side, wearing a houndstooth-check jacket and a red tie, the crease on his trousers broken at his knee; Petrina is beside him in a pair of satin britches and an outsize undershirt, the sun shining through his jug-ears. Irimiás has screwed up his eyes and gives a mocking smile, Petrina is solemn and ceremonial; his eyes happen to be closed, his mouth slightly open. Someone’s hand intrudes into the picture on the left, the fingers holding a banknote, a fifty. Behind them a merry-go-round that has been tipped over, or is in process of being tipped over. “Well, would you look at that!” Petrina remarks in delight, “It’s really us, friend. I’ll be darned if it isn’t! Pass it over, let me get a better look at that old mug of mine.” The boy pushes his hand away. “Nah! Get lost! You think this is a free show I’m giving here! Get your filthy paws off,” and so saying he slips the photo back in its little plastic sleeve and back inside his shirt. “Aw, come on kid!” Petrina purrs, pleading. “Let’s have another look. I hardly had a chance to see anything.” “If you want to see more of it . . . then . . .” the boy hesitates, “then you’ll have to fix me up with the pub landlord’s wife. She has nice big tits too!” Petrina curses and sets off. (“What next, you brat!”) The boy slaps him on the back then rushes after Irimiás. Petrina fishes in the air after him for a while then he remembers the photograph, smiles and hums, and walks a little faster. They’re at the crossroads: from here it’s only half an hour. The boy looks at Irimiás adoringly leaping now to the left, now to the right of him . . . “Mari is screwing the pub landlord . . .” he loudly explains as he goes, taking the odd puff at his cigarette that has burned right down to his fingers by now.” . . . Mrs. Schmidt does it with the cripple, has for a long time, the headmaster does it to himself . . . Really repulsive . . . you can’t begin to imagine, ugh! . . . My sister has gone totally crazy, does nothing but listen and spy, she spies on everyone all the time, Ma beats her but it’s no use, nothing is of any use, it’s like people said, she will remain gaga all her life . . . believe it or not, the doctor just sits at home all the time, doing nothing, absolutely nothing! Just sits there all day, all night, he even sleeps in his chair, and his whole place smells, it’s like a rat’s nest, the light on day and night, not that it matters to him, he sits there smoking high-class cigarettes, you’ll see, it’s just like I told you. And, I almost forgot, today’s the day when Schmidt and Kráner are bringing the money home for the poultry, yes, that’s what they’ve all been doing since February, except Ma, because the filthy swine did not include her. The mill? Nobody goes there, the place is full of rooks, and my sisters because that’s where they go to whore, but what idiots, just imagine! Ma takes all their money and all they do is sit and weep! I wouldn’t let that happen, you can be sure of that. There in the bar? That doesn’t work any more. The landlord’s wife is so full of herself now, she’s swollen up like a cow’s ass, but luckily she has moved into the town house at last and will stay