There but for The_ A Novel - Ali Smith [38]
Everybody laughs.
What’s anal, again? the child asks.
Caroline blushes.
Oh God. I’m so, so sorry, Jen says to Bernice. I didn’t think.
Terence tells the child that anal is the adjectival form of anus and that the anus is the opening at the end of the alimentary canal.
I knew that, the child says. But then what’s the problem with saying the word?
Then Terence tells everybody round the table that Busby Berkeley wasn’t a choreographer to start with, but came to it via the First World War, where he’d been a drill inspector.
I’m not musical at all, Richard says.
He hasn’t a musical bone in his body, Hannah says.
Brained by the musical bone of an ox, the child says. Ha ha. St. Arpeggio St. Alfeggio.
Her father laughs.
Where did you get a word like arpeggio from? her mother says. As if I didn’t know.
Is it stage musical or film musical you’re keen on, Terence, or both? Jen asks.
I just don’t get music, Richard says again.
Tell us some more facts like that one about Busby Berkeley, Terence, Eric says.
Everybody turns and stares at Eric.
Don’t encourage him, Bernice says. He’s anal enough about it already.
The whole table falls silent again.
Woah! Bernice says and hoots with laughter.
Well, Terence says. James Cagney and George Raft and John Wayne. The tough guys of Hollywood, well, they were all trained as dancers first.
That’ll be the day, Richard says.
Discipline, yes, Hugo says, it’s a very particular discipline.
And Fred Astaire, Terence says, had it written into his contracts that if he was being filmed dancing then his whole body was to be shown at all times, never just his feet or hands or head, never anything but the whole body.
Richard drops his knife. It hits the side of his plate quite hard.
Fascinating, Jen says nodding.
Hannah yawns out loud.
And Ruby Keeler, you know, the early tap dancer? Terence says.
No, Hannah says like a teenager, we don’t.
Keeler was the first really famous tap dancer, Terence says ignoring her. And when we see footage of her, dancing, these days, and we compare her to someone like Astaire, it’s easy to think she’s not very good, quite clumsy, because she’s so all over the place and clunky-looking. But in reality her dancing style came direct-descendant from the Lancashire Clog Dance. In fact it made Astaire’s possible. She was the first popularizer of the form.
How do you know stuff like these things? Hannah says.
I read them, Terence says. In books.
No, but why do you know them? Hannah says.
Why? Terence says.
I always think it’s so funny what people know and why they do, Hannah says.
Why does anybody know anything? Terence says.
I never know why anybody knows anything, Hannah says. But I’d have thought you would know about, you know, your own culture, before you knew other things about cultures like Lancashire and places like that, I mean.
Have you not met any or very many black people before or are you just living in a different universe? the child says.
Silence thuds down round the table.
No, Hannah says, I didn’t mean it like it sounds, like that. I was just surprised that he knew so much, knows so much about music and, and when his job is metal, and musicals.
All art aspires to the condition of music, Bernice says. That’s Walter Pater. All art aspires to the condition of musical. That’s Terence Bayoude.
Jen and Caroline and Hugo make knowing noises.
And I didn’t understand any of that last comment at all, Hannah says.
She looks desperate.
That was lovely, Jen, Bernice says. Thank you very much.
Miles, Jen says, there’s couscous as accompaniment to the tagine, and I can have a look in the fridge and see what will go with it, but it might be a bit haphazard, I hope you won’t mind. Or would