Numbers in the Dark and Other Stories - Italo Calvino [25]
First and foremost General Fedina was concerned with the logistics of the operation, since his orders were that the commission was not to leave the library before having completed their enquiry; it was a job that required concentration, and they must not allow themselves to be distracted. Thus a supply of provisions was procured, likewise some barrack stoves and a store of firewood together with some collections of old and it was generally thought uninteresting magazines. Never had the library been so warm in the winter season. Pallet beds for the general and his officers were set up in safe areas surrounded by mousetraps.
Then duties were assigned. Each lieutenant was allotted a particular branch of knowledge, a particular century of history. The general was to oversee the sorting of the volumes and the application of an appropriate rubber stamp depending on whether a book had been judged suitable for officers, NCOs, common soldiers, or should be reported to the Military Court.
And the commission began its appointed task. Every evening the camp radio transmitted General Fedina's report to HQ.
‘So many books examined. So many seized as suspect. So many declared suitable for officers and soldiers.’ Only rarely were these cold figures accompanied by something out of the ordinary: a request for a pair of glasses to correct short-sightedness for an officer who had broken his, the news that a mule had eaten a rare manuscript edition of Cicero left unattended.
But developments of far greater import were under way, about which the camp radio transmitted no news at all. Rather than thinning out, the forest of books seemed to grow ever more tangled and insidious. The officers would have lost their way had it not been for the help of Signor Crispino. Lieutenant Abrogati, for example, would jump to his feet and throw the book he was reading down on the table: ‘But this is outrageous! A book about the Punic Wars that speaks well of the Carthaginians and criticizes the Romans! This must be reported at once!’ (It should be said here that, righdy or wrongly, the Pandurians considered themselves descendants of the Romans.) Moving silendy in soft slippers, the old librarian came up to him. ‘That's nothing,’ he would say, ‘read what it says here, about the Romans again, you can put this in your report too, and this and this,’ and he presented him with a pile of books. The lieutenant leafed nervously through them, then, getting interested, he began to read, to take notes. And he would scratch his head and mutter: ‘For heaven's sake! The things you learn! Who would ever have thought!’ Signor Crispino went over to Lieutenant Lucchetti who was closing a tome in rage, declaring: ‘Nice stuff this is! These people have the audacity to entertain doubts as to the purity of the ideals that inspired the Crusades! Yessir, the Crusades!’ And Signor Crispino said with a smile: ‘Oh, but look, if you have to make a report on that subject, may I suggest a few other books that will offer more details,’ and he pulled down half a shelf-full. Lieutenant Lucchetti leaned forward and got stuck in, and for a week you could hear him flicking through the pages and muttering: These Crusades though, very nice I must say!’
In the commission's evening report, the number of books examined got bigger and bigger, but they no longer provided figures relative to positive and negative verdicts. General Fedina's rubber stamps lay idle. If, trying to check up on the work of one of the lieutenants, he asked, ‘But why did you pass this novel? The soldiers come off better than the officers! This author has no respect for hierarchy!’, the lieutenant would answer by quoting other authors and getting all muddled up in matters historical, philosophical and economic. This led to open discussions that went on for hours and hours. Moving silendy in his slippers, almost invisible in his grey shirt, Signor Crispino would always join in at the right moment, offering some book which he felt contained interesting