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HASSAN NAJMI that I came from Africa. However, it’s quite a bright continent you know. It’s a continent that gives light to the world!” “That’s right, that’s right,” seconded Gertrude: “It’s all light, Hélène.” Immediately after the first cup of coffee, Gertrude got up and prepared to go out as though she had an appointment to keep. Dragging Pasquette behind her, she invited Mohammed to come.The time had come for the pampered little dog’s walk. When they reached the crossroads that led to Boulevard du Montparnasse, Gertrude asked him: “So, what can you tell me after this long absence?” As though he hadn’t appreciated the true significance of her question, he replied spontaneously and almost without thinking: “There’s not much worth saying!” Then, as though his cool reply had taken her by surprise, she stopped and turned, as if wanting to block his path. Addressing him in a stern, almost affected tone, she said: “If that’s the way you’re going to answer my questions, then it looks as though we’re going to part at the next corner.” Realizing the fragility of the situation, he quickly began telling her about his life in an apologetic tone. He noticed that she was interested in larger events, without failing to note the details. Then she took the initiative and from that moment it was mainly she who did the talking, especially about herself. Many events. Many faces. Many names. Many trips, places, books, paintings, projects and ideas. She seemed to him to be a workshop unto herself. He did nothing to conceal from her his sense of her exceptional worth. He knew she loved to be complimented, so on the way back to the house he talked to her about herself. As for her, she surrendered to the delight of being so celebrated and, in quick repartees, reciprocated the flattery. “It was a long way for you to come, Mohammed.” Knowing how to appeal to her femininity, he replied: “For your sake, for the sake of this great moment, it was worth it.” She responded blissfully: “It’s wonderful that you’re here. Come along now.” Paris’s trees were cowering under a late winter drizzle. Winter was slow to depart, it seemed, and kept nibbling away at more days of the spring season. Mohammed wasn’t accustomed to the kind of bitter cold that had enveloped the city. It had been there to meet him 96 BANIPAL 43 – CELEBRATING DENYS JOHNSON-DAVIES
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HASSAN NAJMI the moment he got off the train and left the station, weighed down by a suitcase, a satchel, and a number of carefully wrapped presents. Fortunately, his wool overcoat had served its purpose, both when he arrived and now, as he walked beside Gertrude. She listened intently as he told her about the garrulous French coachman, who had seemed as though he was driving his two horses by the power of his chattering and the rhythm of his loud voice, rather than with his whip, which he waved back and forth, without actually using it. From the moment they left Austerlitz Station, he hadn’t stopped talking to his passengers, passers-by on the street, street hawkers, and shopkeepers.When he didn’t find anyone to talk to, he would begin talking to one of his two horses again: “Move with me now, you little trickster! Don’t throw the whole load on your brother!” Then he would go back to talking to the passengers about his daily adventures with the two horses and other riders. He was an odd fellow, with a penchant for banter and funny stories He never forgot where his passengers got off.Turning to look behind him, he would issue reminders: “The man with the glasses, it’s your turn now!” At another bend in the road he would say: “Madame, you know where your house is better than I do. Hurry up, now! Get off, and don’t forget your meat and vegetables!” Back at the house, as Gertrude sat in her armchair beside the radiator, Alice went on about her favourite subject, namely, the maids. She hardly stopped, even when Mohammed politely inquired about other subjects, hoping to make the conversation more worthwhile. Meanwhile, he began emptying his suitcase of the presents he had brought with him. He had taken all the gifts he could carry, wishing to convey the spirit of his country with jewellery, antique necklaces, rings, and bracelets of silver and carnelian. They were among the most beautiful objects produced by Berber artisans in the south, from Tiznit, Taroudant and Marrakesh, as well as in the muddy hamlets and villages perched high up in the great Atlas Mountains.There were round containers ,of silver and other metals, that women love to use, ceramic and marble candelabras of various shapes and sizes, colourful, crudely made candles, glossy pieces of stone to be displayed in glass-fronted cabinets, on sideboards and mantelpieces, miniature camels carved from juniper wood and Moroccan daggers which served as wall decorations after retiring from duty in petty tribal BANIPAL 43 – SPRING 2012 97

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HASSAN NAJMI

that I came from Africa. However, it’s quite a bright continent you know. It’s a continent that gives light to the world!”

“That’s right, that’s right,” seconded Gertrude: “It’s all light, Hélène.”

Immediately after the first cup of coffee, Gertrude got up and prepared to go out as though she had an appointment to keep. Dragging Pasquette behind her, she invited Mohammed to come.The time had come for the pampered little dog’s walk. When they reached the crossroads that led to Boulevard du Montparnasse, Gertrude asked him: “So, what can you tell me after this long absence?”

As though he hadn’t appreciated the true significance of her question, he replied spontaneously and almost without thinking: “There’s not much worth saying!”

Then, as though his cool reply had taken her by surprise, she stopped and turned, as if wanting to block his path. Addressing him in a stern, almost affected tone, she said: “If that’s the way you’re going to answer my questions, then it looks as though we’re going to part at the next corner.”

Realizing the fragility of the situation, he quickly began telling her about his life in an apologetic tone. He noticed that she was interested in larger events, without failing to note the details. Then she took the initiative and from that moment it was mainly she who did the talking, especially about herself. Many events. Many faces. Many names. Many trips, places, books, paintings, projects and ideas. She seemed to him to be a workshop unto herself. He did nothing to conceal from her his sense of her exceptional worth. He knew she loved to be complimented, so on the way back to the house he talked to her about herself. As for her, she surrendered to the delight of being so celebrated and, in quick repartees, reciprocated the flattery.

“It was a long way for you to come, Mohammed.” Knowing how to appeal to her femininity, he replied: “For your sake, for the sake of this great moment, it was worth it.”

She responded blissfully: “It’s wonderful that you’re here. Come along now.”

Paris’s trees were cowering under a late winter drizzle. Winter was slow to depart, it seemed, and kept nibbling away at more days of the spring season. Mohammed wasn’t accustomed to the kind of bitter cold that had enveloped the city. It had been there to meet him

96 BANIPAL 43 – CELEBRATING DENYS JOHNSON-DAVIES

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