迪文小说

第90部分（第4页）

were　drawn　by　all　of　us　who　came　to　the　coffeehouse　that　night。　We　came　up

with　the　story　as　well。　So　it　was　with　Red；　too：　Some　red　ink　had　splattered

onto　a　page　and　the　stingy　storyteller　asked　if　we　could　make　a　picture　of　it。

We　dribbled　some　more　red　ink　onto　the　page；　then　each　of　us　sketched　the

image　　of　　something　　red　　in　　a　　corner　　and　　told　　the　　story　　of　　his　　image　　so　　the

storyteller　might　recount　it。　Olive　made　this　exquisite　horse　here—praised　be

his　talent—and　I　think　it　was　Butterfly　who　drew　the　melancholy　woman。　Just

then　Butterfly　removed　the　dagger　from　my　throat　and　told　Black　that；　yes；　he

now　remembered　how　he’d　drawn　the　woman。　We　all　contributed　to　the　gold

coin　in　the　bazaar；　and　Olive；　a　descendant　of　Kalenderis　himself；　drew　the　two

dervishes。　　The　　sect　　of　　the　　Kalenderis　　is　　based　　on　　buggering　　young　　boys　　and

begging　and　their　sheikh；　Evhad…üd　Dini　Kirmani　wrote　the　sect’s　sacred　book

250　years　ago；　revealing　in　verse　that　he’d　seen　God’s　perfection　manifested　in

beautiful　faces。

I　asked　the　forgiveness　of　my　master　artist　brethren　for　the　disheveled　state

of　our　house；　offering　the　excuse　that　we’d　been　caught　unprepared；　and　I　told

them　　how　　sorry　　I　　was　　that　　we　　could　　offer　　them　　neither　　fragrant　　coffee　　nor

sweet　oranges　because　my　wife　was　still　asleep　in　the　inner　room。　I　said　this　so

they　wouldn’t　barge　in　there　and　I　wouldn’t　have　to　wreak　bloody　havoc　upon

them　　when　　they　　didn’t　　find　　what　　they　　were　　looking　　for　　among　　the　　canvas；

drawstring　cloth；　summer　sashes　of　Indian　silk　and　fine　muslin；　Persian　prints

and　dolmans　in　the　baskets　and　trunks　they　eagerly　rummaged　through；　under

the　　carpets　　and　　cushions；　　among　　the　　illuminated　　pages　　I’d　　prepared　　for

various　books；　and　within　the　pages　of　bound　volumes。

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Nevertheless；　I　must　confess　that　it　gave　me　a　certain　pleasure　to　behave　as

if　I　were　afraid　of　them。　An　artist’s　skill　depends　on　carefully　attending　to　the

beauty　of　the　present　moment；　taking　everything　down　to　the　minutest　detail

seriously　while；　at　the　same　time；　stepping　back　from　the　world；　which　takes

itself　too　seriously；　and　as　if　looking　into　a　mirror；　allowing　for　the　distance

and　eloquence　of　a　jest。

Accordingly；　upon　their　asking；　I　said　that；　yes；　when　the　Erzurumis　began

their　　raid；　　there　　was；　　as　　on　　most　　evenings；　　a　　crowd　　of　　about　　forty　　in　　the

coffeehouse；　which　included；　besides　myself；　Olive；　Nas？r　the　Limner；　Jemal　the

calligrapher；　two　young　assistant　illustrators；　the　young　calligraphers　who　were

now　　spending　　their　　days　　and　　nights　　with　　them；　　Rahmi　　the　　apprentice　　of

unsurpassed　beauty；　other　handsome　novices；　six　or　seven　men　belonging　to

the　　lot　　of　　poets；　　drunks；　　hashish　　addicts　　and　　dervishes　　and　　others　　wh