Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas during July of 1933 motored to the new country house at Bilignin in their ancient Ford named Godiva during a hot spell when there was no there at 27 Rue de Fleurus in Paris.
At this time Gertrude Stein was still only a legend in her own mind and perhaps the minds of Picasso and Matisse and young insecure black haired Hemingway
and Fitzgerald who had long known her crew cut immensity but before the year was out she would become definitely a legend and not perhaps a legend.
At Bilignin
Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas had servant trouble. The servants
were sickly and sickly servants serve badly and must go so they
went.
At this time near the new house at Bilignin there lived a mannish
neighbor who wore the pants and her dear friend a not so mannish
Englishwoman. The mannish neighbor offered to help find a housekeeper
and gardener a local couple married if possible for Gertrude Stein to
hire as servants.This offer caused Alice B. Toklas to invite the mannish neighbor who
wore the pants and the not so mannish Englishwoman to tea at the new house at Bilignin
tea of the broad shouldered English kind in hopes that good servant
advice would be given.
Gertrude Stein's seeing was not a glint a fish a rose or a bicycle. It was an oh shit trouble ahead kind of seeing because the mannish neighbor with the volatile temper named Madame Caesar had also seen. And so under a threatening sky they all hastened to follow the charming bottom of little Fleurette into the new house at Bilignin some with placid thoughts some with calamitous thoughts.
Eau de vie a colorless liqueur tinged with the fragrance of raspberries
was served in the parlor by Alice B. Toklas who by now was glowering at
the serving but Gertrude Stein did not notice. Typical
remarked the not so mannish Englishwoman to Alice B. Toklas we have to
do all the work while they discuss the servant problem eh Alice.
To which remark the broad shouldered mannish volatile neighbor whose
name was Madame Caesar and who wore the pants replied you are lucky I
keep you you English sheep I have seen you seeing little Fleurette at
the post office in Bilignin. And it was true the Englishwoman had the
melting eyes of a sheep whether French or English.
On this fine July afternoon with increasing humidity as if summoned by
these harsh words a pretty little bicycle bell was heard outside the new
house at Bilignin causing Madame Caesar the mannish neighbor to drop her
monocle in the seeing that she was having.
The seeing that she was having was of little Fleurette of the post
office at Bilignin dismounting from her bicycle
and being seen by the not so mannish Englishwoman whose seeing was a glint and a fish and a rose and a bicycle. And this vivid English seeing was seen very well by Madame Caesar who said what the hell is that girl doing here.
and being seen by the not so mannish Englishwoman whose seeing was a glint and a fish and a rose and a bicycle. And this vivid English seeing was seen very well by Madame Caesar who said what the hell is that girl doing here.
She can cook said the not so mannish Englishwoman with a petulant toss
of her head well that is a start said Alice B. Toklas gathering up the
bottle and glasses onto the tray and Gertrude Stein heaved her
imperturbable ego off the parlor sofa and said let us talk to her why
not.
Then little Fleurette of the post office at Bilignin stepped up
prettily into the parlor and inquired if a housekeeper was needed for
twenty francs a week she could cook and keep house and Raymond her
brother could garden the roses badly needed cutting.
During this speech little Fleurette's lubricious sharp black eyes stayed fixed on the melting sheep like eyes of the not so mannish Englishwoman as thunder rolled across the sky because in surreal fashion they were back outside again staring at the threatening clouds perspiring in unladylike fashion from the humidity.
During this speech little Fleurette's lubricious sharp black eyes stayed fixed on the melting sheep like eyes of the not so mannish Englishwoman as thunder rolled across the sky because in surreal fashion they were back outside again staring at the threatening clouds perspiring in unladylike fashion from the humidity.
Let us go inside I feel the influence of an extraneous literary
movement said Gertrude Stein whose eyes were also sharp under the tanned
brow and gray crew cut and while they hurried inside Gertrude Stein saw
and could hardly believe and looked again and without question saw and
could hardly believe she saw the not so mannish Englishwoman reach out a
white heavily ringed left hand and pat the charming bottom of little
Fleurette of the post office at Bilignin.
Gertrude Stein's seeing was not a glint a fish a rose or a bicycle. It was an oh shit trouble ahead kind of seeing because the mannish neighbor with the volatile temper named Madame Caesar had also seen. And so under a threatening sky they all hastened to follow the charming bottom of little Fleurette into the new house at Bilignin some with placid thoughts some with calamitous thoughts.
Deep within an overstuffed chair leaning forward her hands on her soon
to be legendary thighs as painted by Picasso and Vallotton and sculpted
by Lipschitz Gertrude Stein quizzed little Fleurette about whether she would mop and
cook and sew and scrub for twenty francs a week and whether her brother
Raymond would garden while weather sounds of a moist plopping nature
were heard through the open door. Alice B. Toklas made a sound at the
answers of Fleurette an approving sound heard by Gertrude Stein.
So little Fleurette with her tender buttons and sharp black eyes and
charming bottom was hired on that no longer fine July afternoon with
numerous small wet objects beginning their falling. No one stared at the
sky as they had all hastened inside.
When little Fleurette left a vivid argument erupted between the mannish
neighbor who wore the jodhpurs and the not so mannish Englishwoman who
by the way wore a cream colored georgette shirtwaist with a peach
colored cameo at her white neck. This argument was much more vivid than
a glint a fish a rose or a bicycle for after all such things are
charming things like the pretty little bicycle bell bottom of Fleurette
but now Madame Caesar and the not so mannish Englishwoman with the white
neck accused each other of many things that were not charming and many
domestic failures.
A flush mounted to the white cheeks of the cameoed Englishwoman as
Madame Caesar accused her of having the hots for little Fleurette and
causing her to be employed chez Gertrude Stein where her charming bottom
could be seen by all who wished to be seeing especially certain sheep
eyed neighbors.
At this the plump lip of the not so mannish Englishwoman trembled and
she flung out her heavily ringed left hand and cried your jealousy makes
me sick knocking over the bottle of eau de vie concocted after many
failures from ripe raspberries grown at the new house at Bilignin the
previous summer by Alice B. Toklas.
While Gertrude Stein generally enjoyed a fine argument even a drunken
confrontation among geniuses on a hot July afternoon with wet objects
falling outside she had a rule in her perhaps legendary immensity and
this rule had to be observed by all she invited including mannish
neighbors in jodhpurs and not so mannish Englishwomen with flushed
cheeks and this rule was that anyone who upset Alice B. Toklas who by
now was sitting on the floor amid spilled eau de vie her eyes
threatening to let fall small wet objects must leave right now and no
more gracious hostess.
The volatile neighbor in black linty jodhpurs and her dear friend who
were no longer speaking to each other were seen to the door by sullen
exotic Alice B. Toklas who was not speaking.
No one was speaking on this moist July afternoon though little
Fleurette's bicycle bell could still be heard down the lane for those
who were hearing.
What ill behaved women lovey said Alice B. Toklas swabbing at the
oriental rug in the parlor and Gertrude Stein said well pussy at least
we have servants coming tomorrow Fleurette can vacuum with the new
vacuuming machine and Raymond the brother can trim the roses. But the
august tanned brow of Gertrude Stein was obscured by a line of worry as
Gertrude Stein looked out toward the neighboring house obscured by the
dropping of wet objects.
And even the knowing by Gertrude Stein that she was perhaps a legend to Joyce her archrival
and Lawrence and Sherwood Anderson who at this time was at the height of his fame did not ease this line of worry.
And even the knowing by Gertrude Stein that she was perhaps a legend to Joyce her archrival
and Lawrence and Sherwood Anderson who at this time was at the height of his fame did not ease this line of worry.
Next morning a scream was coming. The scream was coming from the
neighboring house so in haste Alice B. Toklas in her exotic wrapper and
Gertrude Stein following in her brown corduroy robe and sandals slogged
through the mud caused by abstract teardrop shaped objects falling to
the jodhpured neighbor Madame Caesar who was pointing to the ditch by
her house her eyes wide with horror.
Meantime a bicycle bell was ringing and some were screaming at the
seeing of the not so mannish Englishwoman lying in the ditch shot twice
in the right side of the head the muddy gun still clutched in her right
hand her sightless eyes as moist and abstract as the sky.
The line of worry obscuring the august tanned brow of Gertrude Stein
deepened. Gertrude Stein made a sound and the sound was heard by Alice
B. Toklas who made a corresponding sound. The soon to be legendary
writer and the long nosed companion saw the constabulaire in its
arriving and returned to the new house. Numerous wet objects were still
falling and it was still a hot July.
Are you thinking what I am thinking pussy inquired Gertrude Stein as
Alice B. Toklas ruffled the wet gray crew cut with a towel in front of
the fireplace in the parlor. Are we thinking that Madame Caesar used and
then put the pistol in the hand of her dear friend replied Alice B.
Toklas. Just so said Gertrude Stein and they both had a hefty swig of
eau de vie.
In two days the inquest was over in its overing and the verdict was
suicide.
Twice in the head not likely said Gertrude Stein as the two ladies
motored home from the inquest in Godiva the ancient Ford. We shall stay
away from the jodhpured one she won't be invited to tea don't worry
exclaimed Alice B. Toklas. That evening Gertrude Stein called a French
lieutenant named Rambouillet whom she met in the Great War and learned
that military men always shoot themselves twice in the head if they can
manage it so for the evening she stopped thinking the thing that she had
been thinking.
And all this would have been and actually was merely a curious footnote
in the vivid life of Gertrude Stein except that little Fleurette started
work at the new house at Bilignin the following day and exhibited the
troublesome charming bottom which was hard not to be seeing as she bent
over frequently.
And even the devoted proper immense crew cut Gertrude Stein who was
rewriting her legendary never ending thousand page book in the upstairs
bedroom during this French summer was distracted by the bent over bottom
and for a moment intensely wished to reach out and pat it and even extended her right hand which caused her to remember that the
charming bottom had been patted by the left hand of the no longer living
Englishwoman.
Pat with a left hand shoot with a right hand. Right shoot pat left.
Ditch right pat heavily ringed sheep bottom. Left fish bicycle hand pat
shoot right bell. No. No no not likely. Gertrude Stein observed but did
not pat the calamitous bottom of little Fleurette while dust bunnies
disappeared into the efficient maw of the new vacuuming
machine which made a loud and unpleasant sound in the French afternoon unlike the
pleasant whisk whisk whisk whisk of a good French broom.
She did it pussy it was Madame Caesar the neighbor but we'll never
prove it said Gertrude Stein putting down her pen while Alice B. Toklas
looked down from the upstairs window at Raymond the gardener who was
clipping the roses with a snip and another snip and all the snips were
precise. The Englishwoman was left handed and would not have shot
herself with her right hand that is that is that is that but the right
handed Madame Caesar will just claim the Englishwoman was right handed
and the Englishwoman had no other friends here to say otherwise Gertrude
Stein continued picking up her fountain pen a green marbleized Schaeffer
and writing a homespun phrase over and over on a piece of paper which
she then added to the humongous stack of papers on the desk.
Perhaps someone else did it and placed the pistol in her right hand I
have seen Raymond the gardener seeing la petite Fleurette also and there
is something about his seeing that smells like a fish or you know a
bicycle and so on mused Alice B. Toklas whose mood had reverted to the
placid practical usual domestic mood of Alice B. Toklas.
So he is not the brother of Fleurette and he might be jealous of the
attentions of the cameoed one with the plump lip nodded Gertrude Stein
and reflected awhile. And as Gertrude Stein stared out the upstairs
window at Raymond the gardener who was a good looking bootblack type as has
also been said of Picasso Gertrude Stein made a sound that was jolly and
robust and which came from the belly.
But he is left handed too look how he snips his snipping clears him. He would have remembered even in haste to place the pistol in the left hand of the cameoed one things sometimes come clear in a simple homespun way if you have been seeing what there is to be seeing and that is that is that is that said Gertrude Stein interspersing her statement with many more jolly sounds from the belly.
But he is left handed too look how he snips his snipping clears him. He would have remembered even in haste to place the pistol in the left hand of the cameoed one things sometimes come clear in a simple homespun way if you have been seeing what there is to be seeing and that is that is that is that said Gertrude Stein interspersing her statement with many more jolly sounds from the belly.
That is a relief I would hate for him to be sent away he snips the
roses so well and there is such a servant problem said Alice B. Toklas
who failed to see the humor as always.
That is not the point pussy the point is that definitely it was the
right handed volatile Madame Caesar who killed the Englishwoman said
Gertrude Stein. Will you please send Madame Caesar our calling card
stating Gertrude Stein declines any further friendship.
Yes of course I shall send the card Raymond can take it but should we
not also notify the constabulaire asked Alice B.Toklas.
Regrettably we cannot prove anything but we have at least solved this
small mystery to our moral satisfaction which is a relief replied
Gertrude Stein. You see pussy all is mystery we live in the middle of
something profound and terrible not knowing where we came from not
knowing where we are going not knowing what we are doing here or if
there is a here here. However in solving the case of the sheep eyed
Englishwoman we are comforted by uncovering the small vivid truth which
incidentally explains why the mystery story is the grandest and most
cathartic of literary forms.
Upon completing this statement the mood of Gertrude Stein darkened
suddenly in the manner of geniuses. Gertrude Stein pooched out her lower
lip while gazing upon the colossal stack of papers and rubbed her august brow
with her right hand muttering perhaps I should throw all this away and
write a well plotted conventional mystery and made a sound of
despair.
There there let us forget it if we can't prove anything we can't prove
anything replied the placid practical no longer sullen Alice B. Toklas
who had a small dark downy mustache growing. Come here lovey look at the
size of that rose he is cutting is it a rose
it is as big as jodhpurs or a fish or a bicycle.
it is as big as jodhpurs or a fish or a bicycle.
A rose cannot be a bicycle observed Gertrude Stein rising from her
chair and looking down from the upstairs window.
A rose is a rose you can say that again said Alice B. Toklas stroking her upper lip where there was definitely a mustache growing.
There is always something more if you have been seeing what there was to be seeing responded Gertrude Stein in her monk's haircut which imparted a dignity like that of Joan of Arc. I need to go back to my writing now pussy I think I am onto something that I am thinking and what I am thinking has to do with what you just said something about roses.
A rose is a rose you can say that again said Alice B. Toklas stroking her upper lip where there was definitely a mustache growing.
There is always something more if you have been seeing what there was to be seeing responded Gertrude Stein in her monk's haircut which imparted a dignity like that of Joan of Arc. I need to go back to my writing now pussy I think I am onto something that I am thinking and what I am thinking has to do with what you just said something about roses.
Picasso and his second wife will be arriving at dinnertime said Alice
B. Toklas do not forget. And we have to buy two chickens at the market
Picasso likes my recipe for roasted chicken.
Okay okay okay said Gertrude Stein. You made me forget what I was
thinking something about roses I almost had it but now the thinking has
turned to Picasso so shall we go and get the chickens.
And they motored in the ancient Ford to Belley to buy chickens and
perhaps they are still driving there talking about bells roses and
bicycles. On the way Gertrude Stein who always drove and dreamed for the
two of them turned to Alice B. Toklas and said will you always love me
pussy even after I am dead and Alice B. Toklas replied oh lovey yes I
said yes I will yes
But that is another story.
(This story is from Sinister Shorts by Perri O'Shaughnessy. All rights reserved.)
THE END
(This story is from Sinister Shorts by Perri O'Shaughnessy. All rights reserved.)