Q, Luther Blissett [children's ebooks online .txt] 📗
- Author: Luther Blissett
- Performer: 0156031965
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Dumbfounded, embarrassed, silent. Anxiety has spread among the rows of people while Jan was speaking, a dazed unease that makes people look each other closely in the face, just to be sure that they are still the same. Burghers, workers, artisans, mothers, rough faces, strong hands. Young, all of them, since poverty doesn’t give you time to grow old. Have I really come to say that somewhere the hope of redemption and the kingdom still exists? The handsome maturity of Rothmann, their preacher, and Bockelson’s twenty-five years whisper in their ears that it is possible.
A stout man, beer belly and powerful shoulders, embraces Jan of Leyden, kissing him on his beard. Rothmann’s gauntness and his flattering voice, along with the bear-like mound of the representative of the artisans’ guilds of M�nster: Berndt Knipperdolling, tanner and tailor. He jumps on to the table we’re standing on, and it creaks alarmingly: ‘Welcome to the apostles of the Great Matthys, on behalf of the entire community of the brethren of M�nster. You who are present today will tell the story of this day to your grandchildren, because this is the beginning of everything. God has looked upon our city of M�nster and decided: this is the place where it will all begin. We have begun the struggle, and we will take it to its conclusion. And you may be certain that it will not be easy: we will have to stand up to the bishop, we will have to wrest the power from the hands of the notables, that task may involve the shedding of sweat and perhaps even blood. But the moment has come, it cannot wait much longer. That is why I say: if anyone does not feel it, may they leave us now and go to hell. Amen.’
A single clamour of raised fists, clapping hands and clattering tools.
*
‘Your name flies on the wings of the wind: Bernhard Rothmann, preacher of the oppressed.’
He laughs, persuasive, sincere, with a way of moving his hands and his body that wins the sympathy of the people. I couldn’t say whether it’s deliberate or natural, but I have already been told of the rumours circulating about the irresistible power that Rothmann exerts over the ladies of M�nster. They say that more than one husband would like to see him dangling from the shafts of a cart, and not for reasons of faith. It seems that women find his sermons truly irresistible, and they linger for a long time, after the functions, to discuss them in private with the preacher. Furthermore, he’s not short of presence, he really doesn’t show his forty years.’
‘Matthys’ name has been talked about just as much, if not more. We anxiously await him.’
‘He’ll be here soon. It’s important for all of us that you meet one another.’
He nods as he offers me a drink. ‘There’s a huge amount to be done. You’ve seen, we’re solid, but we’re few in number. We’ve got to gain advantage one day at a time.’
‘Mhm. Do you know how many of you there are?’
He shows me to a battered armchair, the only piece of furniture in the room where he’s staying, apart from his wicker bed.
‘It’s difficult to assess the effective forces we can rely on. The situation is uncertain. Bishop von Waldeck sneaked off the minute things in the city started swinging in the direction of the Protestants, and now he’s a few miles from here, conferring with his feudal lords. The Catholics have gone into hiding, and are keeping their heads down as they wait for the pig to come back, possibly armed, to sweep away us Baptists and all the Lutherans.’
‘And why doesn’t he do it?’
‘Because he knows that if he did he would reawaken the municipal spirit of M�nster and everyone would form a coalition against him. The city doesn’t want to go back to being his personal possession.’ A smile. ‘We’ve done something good, and we’ve got to acknowledge that. Von Waldeck is sly, my friend, very sly. We mustn’t make the mistake of underestimating him or thinking that he’s out of the game. He remains our greatest enemy.’
I’m starting to understand. ‘And inside the walls?’
He brightens. ‘The Lutherans and the Catholics will join together to oppose our success among the people, the workers and Knipperdolling’s artisans. Almost all the big merchants who vote for the Council are Lutherans, and they’ve elected two of their own as burgomasters: J�defeldt and Tilbeck. J�defeldt is unreliable, he’s a spineless wretch who’s as frightened of the bishop as he would be of the devil. Tilbeck seems to have a certain regard for us, he’d do anything just to avoid having the bishop’s men back in the city, but even him we can’t trust too much. The common people are all on our side, and that frightens them, they’re afraid of being toppled. And they’re right to be. In turn, however, they don’t trust the Catholics, because they’re afraid that the Catholics will give the city to the bishop.’ He shrugs his shoulders. ‘As you see, the situation is anything but certain. We’ve got to play on two fronts: the bishop out there, with his spies in the city, and the Lutherans inside, his adversaries but certainly not our friends. So far we’ve managed to beat them every time they’ve tried to throw us out. The population defended us, that’s our strength.’
‘The people, yes. Your words today reminded me of a man I knew years ago when I was more or less Jan’s age. I fought for those words. And I admit that I didn’t think I’d do it again.’
‘Is that supposed to be a compliment?’
‘I think so. But you should be aware that I lost everything back then.’
His face shows that he understands. ‘Are you frightened? Is the apostle of the Great Matthys afraid of being defeated for a second time?’
‘No, it isn’t that. I just wanted to say that you’ve got to be alert, you’ve got to be cautious.’
He runs a hand through his hair and adjusts the pleats of his clothes, a poor fabric worn with incredible elegance: ‘I know. But now I’ve got the very best allies by my side.’ He always manages to flatter you. ‘Jan of Leyden spoke with fire in his veins.’
I laugh loudly. ‘Jan’s a madman, a colossal rogue, a great actor and a successful whoremonger. But he knows how to do it, without a doubt. It’s important to have him with us, I’ve seen him at work. He’s a real war-machine when he wants to be.’
This time we laugh together.�
M�nster, 13th January 1534, evening
‘Good God, Friends, if the faith of the inhabitants of M�nster is as abundant as the tits of the women there, then I’ve never been anywhere so close to paradise!’
Jan of Leyden buries his excited face in the opulent bosom of his first M�nsterite admirer. His words are the reason for Knipperdolling’s laughter.
‘And you’ve never seen the abundant span of the head of the city guilds,’ he replies immodestly, after a few attempts to articulate a comprehensible phrase.
‘A span, friend Berndt?’ asks Jan with an edge of sarcasm. ‘Then the indigenous people of the Americas are going to reach Heavenly Kingdom before us!’
‘What do you mean?’ asks Knipperdolling, his curiosity roused, as he unlaces the bust of his lady companion.
‘Oh, drop it, my friend. I wouldn’t want to injure your pride.’
A cushion catches Jan full in the face. The two women giggle, amused, and repay their cavaliers with increased attentions.
The girl looking after me isn’t interested in chattering, she doesn’t waste time. Two or three kisses on the lips, then down she goes with her head to take care of the rest. I’d barely caught her name before I’d forgotten it again.
Meanwhile Knipperdolling is wallowing heavily among the covers. He tries to turn around and sit without detaching himself from his friend, but his paunch is giving him some problems.
‘So, Jan, you’re in the trade, do you have some comfortable position for those of us whose torsos have slipped?’
‘Well, friend Berndt, I couldn’t say. But I can tell you about when I was working with the fattest whore in Europe. You can’t imagine how many customers that slut had!’
‘Really! But how fat was she?’
‘Listen, she was a disgusting fat pig. But people like yourself loved her to pieces.’
‘In what sense?’
Jan purses his lips and squeezes the blonde’s tits between his hands. His voice comes out higher than usual. ‘“Yes, Matilda, your billowing plumpness makes me come. Not the thin ones, not me, because I’m a fat-fucker.”’
‘Oh fuck off!’�
‘I swear. They were all at it, even if it was just to say they’d had a woman it took five men to lift.’
A kiss aggressively administered makes Knipperdolling shut up. For my part, I don’t need that kind of gag on my mouth. Half lying on the floor, with the back of my neck against the wall and a girl slowly swallowing me, I lost the power of speech some time ago.
Jan is now half-suffocated by his exciting companion. You could say she’d succeeded in her attempt to shut him up.
So, it is in a general silence that Knipperdolling begins to emit a dull, puffing, definitive roar.�
‘Are you always in such a hurry to get to the finishing-post, friend Berndt?’ Jan interrogates him with his usual snigger. ‘I’ve got a cure for cases like yours. Boil some onions in water and when it’s cold you squeeze it inside.’ He waves his arms in the air. ‘Infallible, I guarantee it. Otherwise, if you’re passing through Leyden, ask for Helen. She used to work for me: she’s the only whore I know who could give you pleasure without once making you come.’
‘And how does she do it?’
‘No idea, but she really does. Imagine: I paid her by the hour, and I really had the bookings coming in. I tell you: one time we had someone come in who wanted a quick fuck, you get me? But she managed to keep him there for at least an hour. It seems this fellow was banging away like a man possessed, but nothing happened. After a while he started getting really furious. He took out his knife and he slashed her on me, you get me? Of course it was the last thing he did in his life. Fuck’s sake, spoiling my capital like that!’
Knipperdolling brushes away the hair from his girl’s sweating face and looks towards Jan: ‘Fuck!’ is his only comment.
A small laugh escapes me, but I haven’t the strength to illustrate our actor’s strange habit to him: when he tells a story he can’t keep from saying ‘you get me?’ It’s an infallible way of gauging the truth of his anecdotes.
Now Knipperdolling doesn’t want to miss any of his friend the pimp’s stories: ‘What were you saying before about the indigenous people of the Indies?’
‘When?’
‘Before, remember? The story about them being ahead of us in the Kingdom of Heaven!’
‘Oh nothing. I was told it by sailor who used to be a customer of mine, who’s been over there. They’re much shorter than us, but they’ve got dicks like this. And if you’re interested, another customer who’s been in Africa told me that they have themselves circumcised there because the women like it much better.
‘Fucking Jews! So
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