KING OF CLUBS

… he thought it was
downright annoying that he didn’t know
more about life and the world …

A fter the oracle had assured us we would meet Mama in Athens, we walked further up through the temple site and found an old theatre, which had room for five thousand spectators. From the top of the theatre we looked out over the temple site and right down to the bottom of the valley.

On the way down Dad said, ‘There is still something I haven’t told you about the Delphic Oracle, Hans Thomas. You know, this place is of great interest to philosophers like us.’

We sat down on some temple remains. It was strange to think they were a couple of thousand years old.

‘Do you remember Socrates?’ he began.

‘Not really,’ I had to admit. ‘But he was a Greek philosopher.’

‘That’s right. And first of all I’m going to tell you what the word “philosopher” means …’

I knew this was the beginning of a mini-lecture, and honestly I thought it was a bit much, because the sweat was pouring off my face under the burning sun.

‘“Philosopher” means one who seeks wisdom. This does not mean a philosopher is particularly wise, however. Do you understand the difference?’

I nodded.

‘The first person to live up to this was Socrates. He walked around the market square in Athens talking to people, but he never instructed them. On the contrary – he spoke to people he met in order to learn something himself. Because “the trees in the country cannot teach me anything,” he said. But he was rather disappointed to discover that the people who liked to say they knew a lot really knew nothing at all. They might be able to tell him the day’s price of wine and olive oil, but they didn’t know anything considerable about life. Socrates readily said himself that he knew only one thing – and that was that he knew nothing.’

‘He wasn’t very wise, then,’ I objected.

‘Don’t be so hasty,’ Dad said sternly. ‘If two people haven’t a clue about something but one of them gives the impression of knowing a lot, who do you think is the wisest?’

I had to say that the wisest one was the one who didn’t give the impression of knowing more than he did.

‘So you’ve got the point. This is exactly what made Socrates a philosopher. He thought it was downright annoying that he didn’t know more about life and the world. He felt completely out of it.’

I nodded again.

‘And then an Athenian went to the Delphic Oracle and asked Apollo who the wisest man in Athens was. The oracle’s answer was Socrates. When Socrates heard this, he was, to put it mildly, rather surprised, because he really thought he didn’t know much at all. But after he visited those who were supposed to be wiser than he and asked them a few intelligent questions, he found that the oracle was right. The difference between Socrates and all the others was that the others were satisfied with the little they knew, although they didn’t know any more than Socrates. And people who are satisfied with what they know can never be philosophers.’

I thought the story had a point, but Dad didn’t stop there. He gestured towards all the tourists swarming out of the tour buses far below and crawling like a fat trail of ants up through the temple site.

‘If there is one person among all those who regularly experiences the world as something full of adventure and mystery …’

He now took a deep breath before he continued.

‘You can see thousands of people down there, Hans Thomas. I mean, if just one of them experiences life as a crazy adventure – and I mean that he, or she, experiences this every single day …’

‘What about it?’ I asked now, because again he had stopped in the middle of a sentence.

‘Then he or she is a joker in a pack of cards.’

‘Do you think there’s a joker like that here?’

A look of despair now crossed his face. ‘Nope!’ he said. ‘Of course I can’t be sure, because there are only a few jokers, but the chance is infinitesimal.’

‘What about yourself? Do you experience life as a fairy tale every single day?’

‘Yes, I do!’

He was so forthright with his answer I didn’t dare argue with him.

‘Every single morning I wake with a bang,’ he said. ‘It’s as though the fact that I am alive is injected into me; I am a character in a fairy tale, bursting with life. For who are we, Hans Thomas? Can you tell me that? We are thrown together with a sprinkling of stardust. But what’s that? Where the hell does this world come from?’

‘Haven’t a clue,’ I replied, and at that moment I felt just as much out of it as Socrates had.

‘Then it sometimes pops up in the evening,’ he continued. ‘I am a person living right now, I think to myself. And I’ll never return.’

‘You live a tough life, then,’ I said.

‘Tough, yes, but incredibly exciting. I don’t need to visit cold castles to go on a ghost hunt. I am a ghost myself.’

‘And you worry when your son sees a little ghost outside the cabin window.’

I don’t know why I mentioned that, but I thought I had to remind him of what he’d said on the boat the night before.

He just laughed. ‘You can handle it,’ he replied.

The last thing Dad said about the oracle was that the old Greeks had engraved an inscription into the temple here. It said: ‘Know thyself.’

‘But that’s easier said than done,’ he added, mostly to himself.

We sauntered back down to the entrance. Dad wanted to visit a museum just beside it, to study the famous ‘navel of the world’ which had been inside the Temple of Apollo. I humbly asked if I could be excused from joining him inside, and in the end I was allowed to sit in the shade of a tree and wait for him. The museum could not have contained anything essential to a child’s upbringing.

‘You can sit under that strawberry tree,’ he said.

He dragged me along and showed me a tree I had never seen the like of before. I could have sworn it was impossible, but the tree was bulging with red strawberries.

Of course, I had an ulterior motive for not going inside the museum: the magnifying glass and the sticky-bun book had been burning in my pocket all morning. From then on, I didn’t allow any opportunity to pass without reading more from the sticky-bun book. I would have preferred not to look up from the little book until I had completely finished it, but I had to show a little consideration to Dad, too.

I had started to wonder whether the little book was like an oracle which would eventually give me the answers to all the questions I asked. I got a chill down my spine when I read about the Joker on the magic island, especially when there had just been so much talk about jokers.

JOKER

… He stole into the
village like a poisonous snake …

T he old man got up and walked across the room. He opened the front door and peered out into the black night. I followed him.

‘I have a starry sky above me and a starry sky below me,’ he said softly.

I understood what he meant. Above us sparkled the clearest starfilled sky I had ever seen. But that was only one of the starry skies. Down in the valley a faint light shone from the cabins in the village. It was as though some stardust had come loose from the sky and had fallen down to earth.

‘These starry skies are equally unfathomable,’ he added.

He pointed down to the village. ‘Who are they? Where do they come from?’

‘No doubt they ask themselves the same question.’

‘The old man turned to me suddenly. ‘No, no,’ he exclaimed. That’s something they must never ask.’

‘But …’

‘They wouldn’t be able to live side by side with the person who created them. Don’t you understand that?’

We went back inside the cabin, closed the door behind us, and sat down on either side of the table.

‘These fifty-two figures were all different,’ the old man resumed, ‘yet there was one thing they all had in common: none asked any questions about who they were or where they came from. In this way, they were one with nature. They just existed in the lush garden – as bold and carefree as the animals … but then the Joker arrived. He stole into the village like a poisonous snake.’

I whistled.

‘Several years had passed since the assembly of cards had been completed, and I never expected a Joker to come to the island, even though there had been such a card in the pack. I think I thought that I was the Joker. One day, however, the little fool came strolling into the village. The Jack of Diamonds spotted him first, and for the first time in the island’s history there was a bit of a commotion over a newcomer. Not only did he have funny clothes with jingling bells, but he didn’t belong to any of the four families either. Above all, he could provoke the dwarfs by asking them questions they were unable to answer. After a while he kept more and more to himself. He had a separate cabin on the outskirts of the village.’

‘Did he understand more than the others?’

The old man breathed deeply and sighed. ‘One morning when I was sitting on the front steps he jumped out from round the corner of the house. He turned a frisky somersault, bounced up to me with his bells jingling, cocked his little head, and said ‘Master, there’s something I don’t understand …’

‘I was surprised that he called me “master”, because the other dwarfs had never called me anything but Frode. They didn’t normally begin a conversation by saying they didn’t understand anything, either. When you realise there is something you don’t understand, then you’re generally on the right path to understanding all kinds of things.

‘The sprightly Joker cleared his throat a couple of times; then he said, “There are four families in the village, with four Kings, Queens, Jacks, Aces, and Twos to Tens.”

‘“That’s right.”

‘“So there are four of each kind, but there are also thirteen of each kind, because they are all either diamonds, hearts, clubs, or spades.”

‘It was the first time one of the dwarfs had given such a precise description of the order they were all a part of.

‘“Who could possibly have structured everything so wisely?” he went on.

‘“It is probably sheer coincidence,” I lied. “When you throw some sticks into the air, they will always land in a way which is open to interpretation.”

‘“I don’t agree,” said the little jester.

‘It was the first time anyone on the island had ever challenged me. I was no longer dealing with a piece of cardboard – this was a person, and in a way I was pleased about that. The Joker might prove to be a creditable conversationalist. However, I was also worried – what would happen if the dwarfs suddenly understood who they were and where they came from?

‘“What do you think?” I asked him.

‘He stared at me intently, and although his body was as still as a statue, one of his hands trembled, making his bells jingle.

‘“Everything seems so planned,” he said, trying hard not to look worried. “So organised and thought-out. I think we’re standing with our backs to something which will choose either to turn us picture-side-up – or to leave us as we are.”

‘The dwarfs often used words and expressions taken from card games; in this way, they could express exactly what they meant. When it was appropriate I would answer them in the same way.

‘The little jester now flipped over a couple of times, making his bells ring crazily.

‘“I am the Joker!” he exclaimed. “Don’t forget that, dear master. I’m not as clear-cut as all the others, you see. I am neither King nor Jack, nor am I diamond, club, heart, or spade.”

‘I had cold feet now, but I knew I couldn’t put the cards on the table.

‘“Who am I?” he pressed. “Why am I the Joker? Where do I come from, and where am I going?”

‘I decided to take a chance.

‘“You have seen everything I have made from the island’s plants,” I began. ‘“What would you say if I told you I had created you and all the other dwarfs in the village, too?”

‘He stared at me fixedly, and I saw how his little body shook, his bells jingling nervously.

‘With trembling lips he said, “Then I would have no other choice, dear master – I would have to try to kill you, to regain my pride.”

‘I forced a laugh.

‘“Of course,” I replied. “But fortunately it isn’t so.”

‘He stood looking at me suspiciously for a second or two; then he dashed around the corner of the cabin. Within seconds he was standing in front of me again, and this time he had a little bottle of Rainbow Fizz in his hand. I had kept it in the back of a cupboard for many, many years.

‘“Cheers!” he said. “Yum, yum, says the Joker!” and with that he put the bottle to his mouth.

‘I was stunned. I wasn’t frightened for myself, I was afraid everything I had created on the island would fall apart and disappear as quickly as it had once come.’

‘But that didn’t happen?’

‘I realised the Joker had drunk from the bottle, and the remarkable drink had suddenly made him very astute.’

‘Didn’t you say Rainbow Fizz dulls your senses and disorients you?’

‘Of course, but not right away. At first the drink makes you brilliantly clever, because all your senses are stimulated at the same time. Then the drowsiness gradually takes over. This is what makes the drink so dangerous.’

‘What happened to the Joker?’

‘“We’ll say no more for now!” he cried. “But I’ll be seeing you!”

‘He ran down to the village, and there he let the bottle go round among the dwarfs, and ever since that day everyone in the village has drunk Rainbow Fizz. The clubs go out several times a week to fetch purpur nectar from the hollow tree trunks, and the hearts brew the red drink, which the diamonds bottle.’

‘Did all the dwarfs become as clever as the Joker?’

‘No, not quite. Some days they were so sharp-witted I was afraid they would see through me, but then they became even vaguer than before. What you have seen here today are only the remains of something that once was.’

I thought about all the colourful costumes and uniforms, and I suddenly pictured the Ace of Hearts in her yellow dress.

‘Still, the remains are beautiful,’ I said.

‘Oh yes, they are beautiful, but oblivious to everything. They are part of the lush natural world, they just don’t know it. They see the sun and the moon, they taste all the produce here, but it doesn’t register. When they made the big leap, they were proper people, but when they started to drink Rainbow Fizz, they became more and more distant. It was as though they withdrew into themselves. Of course, they can hold a conversation, but they forget what they have said almost as soon as they’ve said it. The Joker is the only one who still has some of the old spark left in him, and possibly the Ace of Hearts. She is always saying she’s trying to find herself.’

‘There’s something I don’t understand,’ I interrupted.

‘Yes?’

‘You said the first dwarfs came to the island only a few years after you landed here yourself – but they all look so young; it is difficult to believe that some of them are almost fifty years old.’

An enigmatic smile crept over the old man’s face. ‘They don’t get old.’

‘But –’

‘When I was alone on the island, the images in my dreams grew stronger and stronger. Then they slipped out of my thoughts and threw themselves into existence here. But they are still fantasy – and fantasy has the wonderful ability to keep what was once created, young and full of life for ever.’

‘That’s unbelievable …’

‘Have you heard of Rapunzel, my boy?’

I shook my head.

‘But you’ve heard of Little Red Riding Hood? Or Snow White? Or Hansel and Gretel?’

I nodded.

‘How old do you think they are? A hundred? A thousand maybe? They are both very young and very old. That’s because they have leapt from people’s imagination. No, I hadn’t thought the dwarfs on the island would become old and grey-haired. Even the clothes they wear haven’t got so much as a tear in them. It is different for us mortals. We are the ones who become old and grey. We are the ones who become worn at the seams and disappear. But not our dreams. They can live on in other people even after we have gone.’

He stroked his white hair and pointed to his threadbare jacket.

‘The big question for me,’ he continued, ‘was not whether the figures would be ravaged by time but whether they really were in the garden and whether they could be seen by other people if someone ever visited the island.’

‘And they were!’ I said. ‘First I met the Two and Three of Clubs, then I met the diamonds in the glassworks..’

‘Mmm …’

The old man was in a world of his own, as though he wasn’t listening to a word I said.

‘The other big question,’ he said eventually, ‘is whether they will remain here after I am gone.’

‘What do you think?’

‘I don’t have an answer to that question, and I never will. Because when I’m not here, then I won’t know whether my figures are here or not either.’

Once again he sat for a long while without saying anything. I found myself wondering whether everything was a dream. Maybe I wasn’t sitting in front of Frode’s cabin. Maybe I was somewhere else completely – and everything else was something inside me.

‘I will tell you more tomorrow, my boy. I must tell you about the calendar – and about the great Joker Game.’

‘The Joker Game?’

‘Tomorrow, son. We both need to sleep now.’

He led me to a bed made of skins and woven blankets, and gave me a nightshirt made of wool. It was good to change out of my dirty sailor’s uniform.

That evening Dad and I sat on the balcony looking down over the town and further out across the Bay of Corinth. Dad was so full of impressions that he didn’t say very much. Maybe he was wondering whether he could trust the oracle’s prediction that we would meet Mama.

Later that night a full moon rose above the horizon in the east. It lit up the whole of the dark valley and made the stars in the sky seem pale.

It was like sitting in front of Frode’s cabin, spying down over the village of dwarfs.

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Дата добавления: 2015-10-28