The Last Word

Sixteen

‘Would it be possible for us to chat a little today?’ whispered Harry, pleased to have found Mamoon in the library.

To Harry’s surprise, Mamoon said, ‘Yes, why not, I am keen,’ though he did glance at Harry’s clipboard as if it were his death certificate. ‘Do you have any exciting questions for once?’

‘I wondered if you might feel invigorated after your morning massage?’

‘My skin is singing. And you have put me in the unfortunate position of having to think about you, something I’ve been reluctant to do.’

‘Think about me in what way?’

‘You’re surprised.’

‘Gobsmacked, sir.’

‘Good.’ Mamoon said, ‘Your fascination with the female body isn’t unnatural or unusual. In fact the body of the young woman is the world’s most significant object, admired and desired by homosexuals, of course, as well as by other women, babies, lesbians, children, fashion designers and men. No wonder Muslims hide the woman like a filthy picture, while their fundamentalists remind us that female sexuality is the biggest problem of all. For these people the woman is already a whore. They’re right to be so concerned,’ he went on. ‘The young female body is at the centre of the world, and usually at the centre of most elections — abortion, single mothers, maternity leave, prostitution, incest, abuse, the hijab. . The woman is where we all come from, and where we all want to go. The woman’s body makes knowledge disappear. It’s amazing that anyone has time to think about philosophy, literature, psychology or history. Women know it too, which is why they hurry on the street. No beautiful woman is a slow walker.’

‘When did you first get interested in this?’ Harry asked him, adjusting his digital recorder but not pressing ‘record’ yet.

‘I can remember as a young man in Madras reading something by Bertrand Russell, who was famous for knowing everything, and a huge passion of mine then.

‘He wrote somewhere of his emotional life being “irrational”. By God, he disapproved of the “irrational”. Russell’s loves, hates, desires — the entire bodily caboodle, and all the greatest philosopher in the world could say was that it was “irrational”. It made me want to say my say, as if the whole thing still required explaining, to hunt down these irrational people, the ones so powerful in the world, and hear their speech.’

‘What is the cure, sir?’

‘Halt your naughty finger before I crush it. Do not record this: it is between us. You ask for the cure — I presume the cure for excessive appetite?’

‘Yes.’

Mamoon laughed. ‘All religions have concerned themselves with the weaning of individuals from their desire. Who, after all, can live with their own wanting? Let’s think about endurance, as the Stoics would have it. I like to read Seneca, who says it can be borne. Or self-knowledge, as Plato preferred it, which might dissipate it. But appetite is all we have and we cannot or should not be cured of it. I’m no Freudian, yet no one can deny that desire is the motor of our existence, as it is for any child who wants to go on living. As your enthusiasm indicates, it is usually out of control and it is tied to madness, unfortunately, because the object — the woman in mind — can only be elusive, and will evade one. She will, naturally, have other preoccupations, other lives. This will create jealousy, the belief that the other has what we don’t have. Proust made a mint out of this simple idea. Still, more desire, less punishment, I say.’

Harry said, ‘You mention Bertrand Russell and his horror of disorientation.’

‘So?’

Harry glanced at the clipboard, noticed a question and looked up at Mamoon. ‘Isn’t it the case that when you met Marion for the first time you experienced a physical connection you’d never had with anyone? That you experienced, at that time, a large bout of irrationality which de-centred you?’

‘You are creating a history for me, one that is parallel to my life. But why don’t you ask her?’

‘Obviously, I need to do that. Would you approve? Can I say that, sir?’

‘That would be up to Marion. But darling Alice with her massages and photographs — and how lucky you are there — has convinced me to be more co-operative with you.’

‘She puts my case?’

‘She is kind, you know, and has pleaded for you. She has thought about my suffering, too, which will be over quicker if I let you in more. Go to Marion and see. I am so looking forward to her giving you a flea in your ear, as she has done to other snoopers. One begging scribbler she tipped a bottle of ink over.’

‘Why?’

‘You will see — ha — she is chilli hot!’

‘Is that why you didn’t marry her?’

Mamoon laughed and said, ‘It would be true to say there are occasions when certain pleasures can be so strong that you might have to rethink your life entirely, as a way of taking them in — or avoiding them.’

Harry said, ‘Pleasure can knock you right off your feet, it is true. Do you mean that a series of orgasms can be a new beginning?’

Mamoon got up. ‘Whatever Marion says, I will always be the stranger in your book.’

‘Thanks for your blessing, sir,’ said Harry. ‘A final question, one which has just occurred to me, I don’t know why. Do you regret not having children?’

‘Not having children has been the one bright spot in my life so far,’ said Mamoon. ‘Now, pack your bags and fuck off out of my damn sight. I need peace again.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘You will thank me a thousand more times,’ he said, giggling. ‘Particularly when you sneak back here with your soul bleeding. I can’t wait.’