Books Burn Badly - Manuel Rivas [122]
‘A jewel, your honour. Look at the prints.’
‘Gabriel, come here! La Sainte Bible published by the Garnier brothers, Paris, 1867. Observe the quality of the illustrations, the perfection that came off steel plates.’
Gabriel, however, really was observing the illustrations, what was in them. All the prints showed women, female Biblical figures. There was the Queen of Sheba with her bowl of pearls. Rahab, waiting at the window. The Pharaoh’s daughter. Judith with her curved sword, next to the bed where Holofernes lies. Sarah, Tobias’ wife, with gaudy earrings and a bracelet. Eve. He’d never seen such a beautiful Eve. It was in fact the first time he’d wondered what she looked like.
‘You like it, right? One day, I’ll tell you about all the Bibles in here. It’s still too soon, but you’ll have to add to this treasure in the future.’
Gabriel was taken with the figures. This would be his favourite Bible for a long time. He’d love them all. Even Judith with her curved sword. The Garnier brothers’ Sainte Bible was one of his best erotic books, together with those he found in the section of charred remains, such as Le Nu de Rabelais. Opening each volume was like opening one of the six gates in a feminine city.
But today the judge would only allow him to touch. He was the one who opened the gates.
‘Chelo will be fascinated,’ he said.
She’d be late today. Gabriel was already in bed. He’d like to have seen her fingers on this new Bible’s illustrations. For him, they were his mother’s most peculiar feature. The shape of her hands, the length of her fingers. He thought, even though he was a man, his would never reach that size. Her toes were in proportion. She looked after and painted the nails of both her hands and her feet. The latter, visible when she wore sandals or could step on the grass or sand, distinguished her from other women. At home, she went barefoot whenever she was painting, which was most of the time. Occasionally she’d receive a call from Fine Arts to take some special visitors on a tour. She spoke French well and got by in English. But most of all she could read the book of the city. She understood its art, architecture and history. Today she was with two French women writing their doctoral theses on Emilia Pardo Bazán. They were also going to visit one of Rosalía de Castro’s daughters, her only surviving descendant, named Gala. Rosalía had been born of unknown parents, so it said on her baptism certificate, though it was well known her father was a priest. She married the librarian and historian Manuel Murguía and they had five children. Gala, who is eighty-six, explains she’s not only the last surviving daughter, but the end of the line. She suddenly falls quiet. The expression on her face is of horror more than pain. Chelo had visited her before, acting as ambassador, but had never seen her like this. Josette and Nelly, the two French women, exchange anxious glances. Their courtesy call is turning into something else. Gala then tells them something she claims never to have told before. Her twin brother, Ovidio Murguía, a painter, had a sweetheart in Madrid, a young woman by the name of Visitación Oliva. Ovidio became ill with tuberculosis, the biggest killer of youth in those days, and returned to Coruña to recover. In fact, he came to die. But what Gala is telling them is that she burnt the love letters that arrived from Madrid for her sick brother. She burnt them one by one. Including the letter with the happy news that Visitación Oliva was with child. This gesture of dropping the letter into the fire somehow put an end to their line. Ovidio Murguía died, thinking he’d been totally forgotten. Why? Why did she do this? Why is she telling them now? This is what their looks say, but no one asks questions. No one says anything. Gala murmurs, ‘I’m sorry for what happened.’ In the night, in the brazier, in a corner of the room, Chelo watches words burning.
Back home, Chelo finds her husband ecstatic. He has a new Bible, an extraordinary Parisian edition illustrated by European print masters