Зима тревоги нашей
Chapter 8
TherewerebitsofthechinoiserietheoldcaptainsbroughtfromtheOrientaftertheyhadstrippedtheChinaareaofspermwhales,bitsandpieces,ebonyandivory,laughingandseriousgods,Buddhas,sereneanddirty,carvedflowersinrosequartzandsoapstoneandsomejade—yes,somegoodjade—andthincups,translucentandlovely.Someofthethingsmightbevaluable—likethesmallshapelesshorseswhichyethadlife—butiftheywerevaluableitwasanaccident,musthavebeen.Howwouldthosesailing,whale-killingmenknowgoodfrombad—orwouldthey?Ordidthey?
Thecabinethadalwaysbeentheholyplaceoftheparentitome—Romanmasksoftheancestors,orthelaresandpenatesbacktoastonefallenfromthemoon.Weevenhadamandrakeroot—aperfectlittleman,sproutedfromthedeath-ejectedspermofahangedman,andalsowehadaveritablemermaid,prettyrattybynow,butcleverlymadebysewingthefrontendofamonkeyandtheafterendofafishtogether.Ithadshrunkwiththeyearsandthestitchesshowed,butitslittleteethstillshowedinaferocioussmile.
Ipresumethateveryfamilyhasamagicthing,acontinuitythingthatinflamesandcomfortsandinspiresfromgenerationtogeneration.Ourswasa—howshallIsay?—akindofmoundoftranslucentstone,perhapsquartzorjadeiteorevensoapstone.Itwascircular,fourinchesindiameterandaninchandahalfatitsroundedpeak.Andcarvedonitssurfacewasanendlessinterweavingshapethatseemedtomoveandyetwentnoplace.
