5.
Wrongly accused of merely miming love in his private life he was somewhat surprised to be confronted with hatred.
“Surely,” he said, “if you now hate me, it was you who were imitating love, not I.”
“You always were a slimy bastard,” she said. “What’s in that parcel?”
“I told you before,” he said helplessly, “string.”
“You’re a liar,” she said.
But later when he untied the parcel he found that she had opened it to check on his story. Her understanding of the string had been perfect. She had cut it into small pieces like spaghetti in a lousy restaurant.
6.
Against the advice of the tour organizers he devoted two concerts entirely to love and laughter. They were disasters. It was felt that love and laughter were not, in his case, as instructive as terror.
The next performance was quickly announced.
TWO HOURS OF REGRET.
Tickets sold quickly. He began with a brief interpretation of love using it merely as a prelude to regret which he elaborated on in a complex and moving performance which left the audience pale and shaken. In a final flourish he passed from regret to loneliness to terror. The audience devoured the terror like brave tourists eating the hottest curry in an Indian restaurant.
7.
“What you are doing,” she said, “is capitalizing on your neuroses. Personally I find it disgusting, like someone exhibiting their club foot, or Turkish beggars with strange deformities.”
He said nothing. He was mildly annoyed at her presumption: that he had not thought this many, many times before.
With perfect misunderstanding she interpreted his passivity as disdain.
Wishing to hurt him, she slapped his face.
Wishing to hurt her, he smiled brilliantly.
8.
The story of the blue string touched the public imagination. Small brown paper packages were sold at the doors of his concerts:
Standing on stage he could hear the packages being noisily unwrapped. He thought of American matrons buying Muslim prayer rugs.
9.
Exhausted and weakened by the heavy schedule he fell prey to the doubts that had pricked at him insistently for years. He lost all sense of direction and spent many listless hours by himself, sitting in a motel room listening to the air-conditioner.
He had lost confidence in the social uses of controlled terror. He no longer understood the audience’s need to experience the very things he so desperately wished to escape from.
He emptied the ashtrays fastidiously.
He opened his brown paper parcel and threw the small pieces of string down the cistern. When the torrent of white water subsided they remained floating there like flotsam from a disaster at sea.
10.
The Mime called a press conference to announce that there would be no more concerts. He seemed small and foreign and smelt of garlic. The press regarded him without enthusiasm. He watched their hovering pens anxiously, unsuccessfully willing them to write down his words.
Briefly he announced that he wished to throw his talent open to broader influences. His skills would be at the disposal of the people, who would be free to request his services for any purpose at any time.
His skin seemed sallow but his eyes seemed as bright as those on a nodding fur mascot on the back window ledge of an American car.
11.
Asked to describe death he busied himself taking Polaroid photographs of his questioners.
12.
Asked to describe marriage he handed out small cheap mirrors with MADE IN TUNISIA written on the back.
13.
His popularity declined. It was felt that he had become obscure and beyond the understanding of ordinary people. In response he requested easier questions. He held back nothing of himself in his effort to please his audience.
14.
Asked to describe an aeroplane he flew three times around the city, only injuring himself slightly on landing.
