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Friday
Nov292013

« In Which There Is Another Life Besides This One »

by laura tryon jennings

Rocquefort

by MARK ARTURO

I saw my first painting by John Rocquefort when I was fifteen.

He was a friend of my father's brother David. My father was three years older, and the pride of his parents. Dad had inherited the family jewelry business and kept it solvent during very lean years. In contrast, David had been something of a wayward son, and the entire family seemed to view him with apprehension you show overly precocious children who never grow out of their eccentricities. There was also something darker there that I never completely understood.

They knew David owned a Rocquefort canvas they kept it for him while he was away but they did not know where he had procured it. David had spent the decade in the Orient until he came back in a coffin. The Orient was what my father called it, maybe because he had misunderstood a joke David told him, conceivably for other reasons. Unlike the rest of his family, my father did love David sort of effortlessly, the way a bird of prey encounters the air he had already moved beyond.

I too loved my uncle, but only in an absent fashion. Memories of him were hard to come by. Since he always wrote to me until he died, I assumed he wrote to my parents and many others that way.

I learned at David's funeral that this was not the case. None of the family had very much idea what David had been up to over the years. I told Dad some but not all of what David told me, as the letters hinted I should.

+

John Rocquefort arrived at the cemetery looking as a businessman might. He was a large man, towering over my entire family. He stuck out for this reason, and his presence there almost eclipsed the casket. It seemed to my aunt and my mother that his arrival had been both completely gauche and strangely relieving. David could not really have been so bad if this great man attended on him at death.

David went in the ground after that. I watched my father as the casket descended; slowly Dad's face was purloined of all affection, I remember thinking. When I think back on it, only one word centers in my mind to describe the entire affair: crass.

Rocquefort greeted all my relatives, introducing himself. They did not ask him to speak of David, and at the time I wondered why that might be now I know it was because they were afraid of what he might say.

It was my father who made a show, at the reception, of offering Rocquefort his painting back. We all knew it was worth a substantial sum, and by the aghast expression on my mother's visage I knew she did not really want my father to do it. I saw Rocquefort, resplendent in the finest suit at the party, pause a moment. Others including myself centered our attention on his response. He shook my father's hand but did not take the painting. Instead he whispered a few words in my father's ear. My father nodded and Rocquefort excused himself.

Before I could ask either of my parents what had happened, my mother came over to me and explained that Rocquefort was waiting outside for me, and didn't he seem like a strange sort of tumbleweed? I did not have to go, she explained, but would I like to? You know what I said.

You also know the painting. It seems to open on a marsh. At first the greenish algae glimmering over the surface appears to extend roughly forever, but then it pulls back over the nose of an airplane, tumbling perspective itself askew. It is no marsh.

Outside, peeling back a rhododendron flower, Rocquefort shuffled a bit suspiciously. He loomed over me, though I was not short for my age, and had surpassed my mother's height when I was only ten years old. He stood nearly twice my size.

He did not move towards me, only asked if I knew who he was.

"Suppose I don't," I said.

"I was a friend of your uncle's," he said, ignoring my inflection. "I don't know what they - your family -" he choked. Then he seemed to stop at some new idea. I realized that he did not like them, and with that came the knowledge that I was not sure if I did, either. That insight too vanished with the wind.

He now looked, instead of brave and smiling, slightly corrupted. "What did they tell you of your uncle?"

I asked him quite sincerely by what right he felt he could ask me about my uncle. Instead of bristling, he smiled a bit wider and stood up.

"You're right, of course." I shuffled uncomfortably, but something crept into his eyes. I asked him how old he was.

"I'm 47," he said. "Well, that's what I tell people anyway. It's close enough. It must seem very old to you."

"I'm fifteen," I said, since I could think of nothing else, and had to fall back on fair play.

He twisted a flower in his hand and dropped it. "If you wish," he said brightly, "you may live with me, until you are 18, and then you may stay or do as you like." Blood rushed into my face. I leaned forward to capture some of the meaning I felt I must have missed in this sudden change of topic.

Rocquefort offered me a cigarette and I declined. I began to answer him with a question, and did not complete it. Out of respect, I made it a statement.

"You loved my uncle."

"Yes."

"Once he wrote me he was not sure."

Rocquefort sighed and said, "In every relationship, you understand, one person is more responsible for it than the other, if only by degrees." He suggested the cigarette again and I took the offering, holding it my hand. He said, "You're Jewish. Did you know?"

I asked if he was a Jew.

"Yes. My mother was. She was a wonderful woman. The only thing she loved more than God was me."

I asked if he missed David.

"He was my life. He reminded me of my mother, I'm not ashamed to say. I have always felt, you understand" he said this often, I noticed, usually when he thought I was not really going to understand "that something was missing in me. I learned it could not be filled, not really, only abrogated. But here I am telling you that life is full of concessions. You live in this place. You know."

You can probably imagine how difficult it was for me to wrap my mind around this. Finally I asked whether he had known my true mother. He nodded, and explained he had come here to tell me of her, and other things. "David did not want you to know. She was taken, along with other members of her family. She would have known you if she could." He made an expansive gesture I could not recognize.

"He longed to stay with you, you understand. You must know how much he wanted to take you with him, but he could not. They would have brought him back in chains." His face took on a wretched cast, and he turned away. I said I thought I understood, and that David had tried to tell me without telling me.

My father emerged from the house then, carrying Rocquefort's painting under his arm like a scolded child. "It belongs to you," Rocquefort whispered to me. He smelled airily of carnations, I have always remembered that as important. "It has always belonged to you. And many others do as well, no matter what you decide to do." I could see in my father's eyes that he thought the artist was telling the truth.

+

The next days passed uneventfully. My parents did not ask me what Rocquefort had spoken to me about, and they seemed glad he had not accepted their offer of his own painting. My life went on as before. I went to school, did my lessons, and nothing seemed very different, except there was suddenly the presence of another possible life parallel to my own that I might have been living all this time.

The fact that David was gone dimmed my anger at him leaving me for the second time. Mitigated, but not at all completely. In the interim, I sought out all I could find about Rocquefort in the local library. My mother saw me at this.

One night, as I rested my head against a pillow, I felt something hard and flat instead. It was a retrospective on an exhibition of Rocquefort's work entitled The Lantern Beyond the Ceiling. In those pages, the elements in his paintings were rendered if not comprehensible, then clearer. Each was far more individuated, and the curator of the exhibition explained the themes and relative movement in the man's evolution. Personal comments sometimes filtered in; she appeared to hold her subject in unbelievably high regard, but there was still considerable distance between them, as between a toad and a marsh, a soldier and his country, or a woman and her nightmares.

Naturally I reviewed the letters from David in a new light. Still, I did not feel I was uncovering very much, and I packed up. You know where I went.

The lavishness of his hotel surprised me, even though I had mentally prepared for what I believed I would see. Although I knew it was very far beyond the means of anyone I knew to live this way, I also sensed that John Rocquefort himself was not entirely comfortable in such places either.

Since that time, I have learned Jews believe this is an aspect of their existence that can never be removed or forgotten completely.

Seeing Rocquefort in robe and slippers, divested of the order David had described in his detailed, abstruse letters, relaxed me. I showed Rocquefort that I held David's words in my hands without saying anything. I placed them on the bed. They were not very painful to me, as I had read them too many times to be fearful of what they contained, but in case they upset him, I said, "You need not look at them at all."

The expression of surprise and pleasure on his face told me everything else I needed to know about him.

His house, in the south of France was magnificent. I stopped counting all the people he paid to get us there. When I could stand it, I was attended on by an ancient servant named Alexandros. There was a maid who prepared my bed and washed my clothes. Her name was Velma, and she had a daughter whose eyes were the deepest shade of green I had ever seen.

Since I had not taken any clothes with me, I had been prepared to wear my best blouse and pants for as long as I had to. Rocquefort, or someone he knew, seemed to know what I might be comfortable in. The weather there afforded me the luxury of wearing very little. He taught me himself from the first day I arrived. At the end of my first lesson, a survey of the troubadour civilization of the Languedocs, he asked me if I wished to write to the people who had, inescapably, raised me.

I said I thought they knew, if not exactly where I was, then where I had been going. I told him I did not see the point of saying any more.

After a month of getting fat and slim again by swimming in the ocean, Rocquefort packed me away in his car on a random Tuesday. I supposed we were going to his dealer, a tiny man named Jerome, or to his friend Elaine who lived a few miles away as a happy widow.

Instead we arrived at a bustling, impossible building in the heart of Marseille.

The sun hit David at a distance, any distance, alongside a magnificent locomotive. It seems completely silly then and now, but watching him come into view, I felt so thankful for progress, for whatever engines had brought my true father to me. Advancement was marvelous, at heart, and those who disapproved of it were nothing more than detritus. The world, the old world that was, would still be there if I wanted it, though I did not. I hoped it was lost.

Mark Arturo is the senior contributor to This Recording. He is a writer living in Brooklyn. He last wrote in these pages about the run of the play. You can find an archive of his writing on This Recording here.

photograph by Aleksandra Mir

"Let Her Go" - Jasmine Thompson (mp3)

"Stay" - Jasmine Thompson (mp3)

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    双层压瓦机设备|琉璃瓦压瓦机|高速护栏设备| 琉璃瓦压瓦机 Z型钢檩条机|打棚手动卷帘门|卷帘门设备|彩钢琉璃瓦设备|800竹节瓦机|彩钢板成型机|轻钢龙骨机|双层设备厂家|直角广告扣扳机|拓信压瓦 高速护栏设备 机械设备厂|拓信压瓦机械设备厂|立式打拱机|C型钢冲孔设备|飞锯冲孔C型钢|广告牌设备|欧式卷帘门设备|全自动大棚设备|广告牌设备|彩钢瓦机械设备生产厂家|全自动楼承板设备|彩钢琉璃瓦设备双层彩钢设备|C型钢扭断冲孔设备|彩钢生产设备|圆弧仿 打棚手动卷帘门 古琉璃瓦设备|彩钢板机械|双层彩钢压瓦机|双层琉璃瓦设备|
  • Response
    排出压力 必需汽蚀 余 量 http://www.rdbengye.com/a/chanpinzhongxin/chilunbeng/92.html m 转 速 ZYB渣油泵 价格 MPa ...
  • Response
    % http://www.rdbengye.com/a/chanpinzhongxin/chilunbeng/92.html 2CY高压齿轮泵 ä¿¡æ�¯æ�¥æº�:瑞盛泵业 内蒙古包头 不锈钢保温泵.NYP高粘度内齿泵.高粘度转子泵 å�‘布日期:2017-03-30 17:49 点击: 141 次  2CY高压齿轮泵适用于输é€�ä¸�å�«é¢—粒纤维,无è…�蚀性,温度ä¸�高于 WXB无泄漏磁力泵价格 2
  • Response
    Response: b2b
    http://www.daxuecidia http://www.daxuecidian.com/sell/search.php?kw=c%E5%9E%8B%E9%92%A2%E6%9C%BA n.com/sell/search.php?kw=c%E5%9E%8B%E9%92%A2%E6%9C%BA 您可以 德鑫机械设备有限公司官网 QQ在线客服:88888888 或 ...
  • Response
    排出压力 http://www.rdbengye.com/a/chanpinzhongxin/chilunbeng/92.html http://www.rdbengye 不锈钢叠螺污泥脱水机型号 .com/a/chanpinzhongxin/chilunbeng/92.html ...
  • Response
    Response: 琉璃瓦机
    2017 金恒嘉压瓦 压瓦机 机设备厂 版权所有 技术支持:b2b|b2b网站|b2b平台|网络销售|开网铺|产品信息|供求信息|网上贸易|供应信息|B2B搜索引 b2b|b2b网站|b2b平台|网络销售|开网铺|产品信息|供求信息|网上贸易|供应信息|B2B搜索引擎|B2B网上贸易|电子商务平台|B2B电子商务平台|B2B电子商务网|企业供求信息综合门户|企业产品信息发布平台-[大学词典] 擎|B2B网上贸易|电子商务平台|B2B电子商务平台|B2B电子商务网|企业供求信息综合门户|企业产品信息发布平台-[大学词典] 访问量:60 ,1025偏弧琉;网站首页 ,双层琉璃瓦设备; 1025偏弧琉 管理入口 双层压瓦机|828琉璃瓦压瓦机|800竹节琉
  • Response
    Response: 河南弯管机
    ,河南缩口 河南缩口机 机; 剪板机的分 840/850型双层彩钢瓦设备为了习惯商品的双料的两层,堵截模也有两层高度,堵截模后方的结尾商品的 不发外链如 处置配备要能上下调理,以习惯这两种板材的出口高度,剪板机的分。 840/850型双层彩钢瓦设备的优势 ...
  • Response
    Response: 山东复合板机
    板厚(mm) 0.4-1.0 欢迎来到本网站,请问有什么 女性最美的颜色—羞色 可以帮您? 金利复合板机的低空散装法及调试方法 新闻资讯 ...
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    2017 金恒嘉压瓦机设备厂 版权所有 技术支持:b2b|b2b网站|b b2b|b2b网站|b2b平台|网络销售|开网铺|产品信息|供求信息|网上贸易|供应信息|B2B搜索引擎|B2B网上贸易|电子商务平台|B2B电子商务平台|B2B电子商务网|企业供求信息综合门户|企业产品信息发布平台-[大学词典] 2b平台|网络销售|开网铺|产品信息|供求信息|网上贸易|供应信息|B2B搜索引擎|B2B网上贸易|电子商 网站首页 务平台|B2B电子商务平台|B2B电子商务网|企业供求信息综合门户|企业产品信息发布平台-[大学词典] 访问量:60 网站首页 管理入口 ...
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    网站首页 关于我们 产品中心 工厂一角 公司新闻 技术文档 销售网络 在线留言 网站首页 联系我们 关于我们 产品分类 版权所有:质诚钢构压瓦机械设备厂 ,彩钢设备作; ...
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    http://www.rdbengye.com/a/chanpinzhongxin/chilunbeng/92 http://www.rdbengye.com/a/chanpinzhongxin/chilunbeng/92.html .html 污水处理加药机 MPa 2CY高压齿轮泵 信息来源:瑞盛泵业 发布日期:2017-03-30 17:49 点击: 141 次  2CY高压齿轮泵适用于输送不含颗粒纤维,无腐蚀性,温度不高于200℃,粘度不大于1500CST的重油、柴油、机械油,以及性质类似的其它液体,可作为传输,增压,燃油喷射,液压以及润滑泵,不锈钢齿轮泵适于输送不含固体腐蚀介质 污泥脱水分离机 ,
  • Response
    http http://www.jhywjx.co ://www.jhywjx.co设为首页 设为首页  | 加入收藏840琉璃瓦设备 850水波纹彩钢瓦设备 门框机 彩石瓦设备 840/900导柱仿古琉璃瓦设备网站首页公司简介新闻动态产品展示生产场景销售网络企业文化联系我们复合板生产线双层三层压瓦机系列农业大棚设备屋面\墙面板设备琉璃瓦设备角驰Ⅲ设备C/Z型钢设备楼承板\车厢板设备菱镁瓦设备防风墙设备广告\装饰\三维扣板机剪板\折弯\校平\分条机覆膜机\放料架\接料台门框机\  |  龙骨机液压\电动起拱机
  • Response
    学反应发泡而制得泡沫塑料。 聚氨酯发泡机是聚氨脂泡沫塑料灌注发泡 卷帘门厂家辽宁本溪 的专用设备。只要聚氨脂组份原料( 等离子净化器 异氰酸酯组份与聚醚多元醇组份)性能指标符合配方要求。通过本设备即能生产出均匀、合格的泡沫制品。它是以聚醚多元醇和多异氰酸酯在发泡剂、催化剂、乳化剂等多种化学助剂存在下,经过化学反应发泡而制得泡沫塑料。聚氨酯发泡机可用于汽车内饰、保温墙喷涂、保温管道制造、自行车和摩托车车座海绵的加工,卷帘门厂家辽宁本溪。 彩钢覆膜机介绍
  • Response
    圆管落水管设备 圆管落 圆管落水管设备 水管设备的优点:设备控制为PLC控制,在正常生产时设制多重安全保护、传动结构为齿轮箱传动。每一个成型机架都有一个齿轮箱,可保证设备超时间,高强 圆管落水管设备 度运行,并且使用寿命长。 询盘订单 圆管落水管设备主要由放料机、导向机架、成型部分、定尺切断部分、收料台、电器控制柜等部件组成。   我公司生产的圆管落水管设备有以下 琉璃瓦压瓦机价格 几个优点:   1、圆管落水管设备控制为PLC控制,琉璃瓦压瓦机价格,在正常生产时设制多重安全保护。   2、床身为钢板焊接件。并作回火处理,

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