A Permanent Home by Enrique Vila-Matas

 


A PERMANENT HOME (Una casa para siempre) is a sizzling Enrique Vila-Matas short story that's included in Vampire in Love and other stories, translated into eminently readable English by Margaret Jull Costa. Spoiler Alert: In order to do a measure of literary justice here, I'm obliged to cover this phenomenal tale from beginning to end, a tale packing so much into a mere seven pages.

The unnamed narrator reveals that he never knew much about his mother since she was killed in their house in Barcelona just two days after his birth. Then, when the narrator, a gentleman I'll refer to as Luis, reaches the age of twenty, his father summons him to his deathbed to reveal something of critical importance: he himself, his father, arranged the death of his mother.

Luis always imagined a hired killer but, once he recovers from the initial shock, begins to believe his father's confession, a man “devoting himself with implacable regularity and monstrous perseverance to the solitary ritual of creating his own language through the writing of a book of memories or an inventory of nostalgias, which I always assumed would, when he died, become part of my tender, albeit terrifying, inheritance.” I've included this extended quote to underscores Enrique Vila-Matas's focus on language, writing, and memoir, subjects running as a common thread throughout his fiction.

Luis's father married his mother because, by his calculation, she was perfect: extraordinarily naive and docile, a poor orphan who would especially appreciate the security, comfort, and wealth he could offer her. Quite different from his two previous wives: hell-raisers who would fly into fits of rage at the slighted provocation and sometimes even physically attack him, as was the case with his first wife who bit off half his ear.

Upon receiving his father's imploring letter, his mother turned up in Barcelona where she knocked on the door of his mansion. When his mother entered the house, his father tells Luis he was overcome with the most intensely erotic impulse he had ever felt. And when she told him she was an expert at dancing the tirana, a long-forgotten medieval Spanish dance, he ordered her to dance, which she did until collapsing, exhausted, in his arms. Whereupon he affectionately ordered her to marry him at once. And that night when they slept together, his father said he experienced undreamed of bliss. And it was that very night when he was conceived. Sidebar: a telling detail of his father's view of men and women - he didn't ask his mother to marry him; rather, he ordered her to do so.

What transpires next in this Enrique Vila-Matas tale is quite remarkable. Luis's dying father requests a glass of vodka. After an initial hesitation, Luis goes down to the kitchen and fills two glasses. Luis can see his Aunt Consuelo entirely absorbed by her desire for a particularly painting hanging in the living room, a painting of angles climbing a ladder. And then the shocker: Luis says his Aunt's absorption is similar to his father's. “And he, at that moment, was entirely absorbed in feeding the illusion of his story.” Ah, so we could very well be listening to a dying man's fabrication. This fact is reinforced when his father explains what happened on their honeymoon, confusing Paris and London with Istanbul and Cairo.

His father goes on to note his wife's odd obsession: she collected bread rolls. Visiting Istanbul bakeries became a kind of strange sport. When he protested and asked why bread rolls, she replied as if humoring a madman, “The troops have to eat something.” The strangeness continues. At night, his wife began talking in her sleep, barking out implacable commands: “Fall in!” “Right turn!” “Break ranks!” Reveille, he father tells him, “became a real torment, because every day, minutes before your mother woke, her snoring appeared to be imitating the unmistakable sound of a bugle at dawn.” Luis is taken aback, wondering if, while on the verge of dying, his father's sense of humor along with his flair for storytelling is magnificently on display here.

A Permanent House contains much colorful detail, including how his mother began to take on the role of army general constantly shooting out orders to his poor father. I've only touched on several highlights in my compressed retelling. You'll have to read for yourself. I'll end with quoting the concluding paragraph that curiously mirrors the words at the end of Enrique Vila-Matas' novel, Mac's Problem:

“My father, who had once believed in many, many things only to end up distrusting all of them, was leaving me with a unique definitive faith: that of believing in a fiction that one knows to be fiction, aware that this is all that exists, and that the exquisite truth consists in knowing that it is a fiction and that, nevertheless, one should believe in it.”


Spanish author Enrique Vila-Matas, born 1948




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