Palafox by Eric Chevillard Page A

lions while mumbling or chewing, something bitter, in any case. Farther along, a little boy with jutting ears and his two little brothers, twins dressed alike, similarly jutting, similarly merry, make fun of the chimpanzees. But impossible to witness everyone and everything, mankind is present, with his sex, that of a sergeant or a majorette, with deerskin gloves or red fingers, with or without his tie, pretty well-represented. Antonio nonetheless notices that coalminers, shoe repairmen, blowers of glass or of verses, the moleskinners and repairers of chairs have very nearly become extinct. When I was a cub, there were countless. And the lady grocers? I who am speaking to you, I remember the time when it wasn’t rare to see a lady grocer. I don’t see them anymore. The savage destruction of their habitat has condemned them. The nimblest of them have found refuge in the mountains but, unless a law is suggested and passed and at this rate who could believe such a thing possible, the last of their kind will disappear within a few years. Antonio could care less after all. He’s primping in his trailer, in the shadows. Pssst, say the photographers, pssst, as if the bear will leap onto all fours and offer up the world premiere of his latest number. They don’t know Antonio at all. Pssst, Olympia says. Two somersaults to start things off then the bear stands up, then an about-turn, a back-bend, flat as a board, another somersault, full split, back onto his feet at last, a curtsy. There really wasn’t enough space in the trailer to execute, between back-bend and handstand, the cartwheel without which this too-sudden revival of a cut-up tree is a bit laughable. But Antonio is easy to forgive. No, it was perfect, just perfect. Olympia offers him a hearty thanks since it is formally forbidden and practically impossible to stick your hand or any other food between the bars. And then of course tonight we’ll get to see the whole thing.
    Algernon is expecting a lot from the performance. Perhaps he’ll steal some ideas for the Palafox show he’s planning. No harm there. When you steal an idea you’re liable to go on to steal an apple, announces Algernon who could care less about assonance. Ideas belong to everyone, like apples. The lucky devil who finds them didn’t make them, his job is nothing more than watching them ripen, tending to them, keeping crows away. Who would dare claim paternity of an apple? Algernon dreams up an original routine for Palafox, something original or perilous, original and perilous, or burlesque, and burlesque. We’ll have to see.

    Lorenzo Luzzatto, Dino Luzzatto, Stefano Luzzatto, Pietro Luzzatto, Oneto Luzzatto, and Claudio Luzzatto kneel, onto the shoulders of whom are hoisted and then kneel Giorgio Luzzatto, Aldo Luzzatto, Ermanno Luzzatto and Leonardo Luzzatto, onto the shoulders of whom are hoisted and then kneel Francisco Luzzatto, Luciano Luzzatto, and Silvio Luzzatto onto the shoulders of whom are hoisted and then kneel Carlo Luzzatto and Domenico Luzzatto, onto the skulls of whom is hoisted and then kneels the little Giaquinto Luzzatto. We applaud the Luzzatto brothers. But it isn’t over yet. Little Giaquinto Luzzatto lifts himself slowly, arms extended, and stands on tiptoe on the skulls of Domenico Luzzatto and Carlo Luzzatto who stand on tiptoe on the shoulders of Francisco Luzzatto, Luciano Luzzatto, and Silvio Luzzatto who stand on tiptoe on the shoulders of Giorgio Luzzatto, Aldo Luzzatto, Ermanno Luzzatto and Leonardo Luzzatto, who stand on tiptoe on the shoulders of Lorenzo Luzzatto, Dino Luzzatto, Stefano Luzzatto, Pietro Luzzatto, Oneto Luzzatto, and Claudio Luzzatto. A new ovation for the Luzzatto brothers’ pyramid. Which risks dragging on forever since Lorenzo Luzzatto, Dino Luzzatto, Stefano Luzzatto, Pietro Luzzatto, Oneto Luzzatto, and Claudio Luzzatto all lift their right legs, and since Giorgio Luzzatto, Aldo Luzzatto, Ermanno Luzzatto and Leonardo Luzzatto all lift their