The proper folding of the paper in the first instance is an absolute condition sine qua non
Posted in General on 17. Aug, 2010
“The proper folding of the paper in the first instance is an absolute condition sine qua non.” You end up with what looks like a Venetian blind, but has two concealed folds on each side.”Never, by any chance, let the audience see the back of the paper,” we are advised. This should leave two vertical pleats, with a small gap between them.Now you can get on with the pleating, working your way down the sheet in concertina fashion, with the folds about half-an-inch apart. Start by folding one edge at about a third of the way along the top, then folding back on itself to meet its new edge Then do the same with the other side. For some of the objects illustrated, you will need something the size of a double page of this newspaper.
The first folds are double pleats of the sides to a point close to the centre. A hundred years earlier, the same pastime was known as “Trouble-wit”, though until you have acquired the necessary dexterity, it seems to be more trouble than wit You start with a single sheet of paper. The magazine advises beginning with a sheet of notepaper, then working up to a great square of stout cartridge. From one folded piece of paper, he constructed 40 different designs in five minutes; “his record is 10 in 30 seconds”.
That, at any rate, was the expressed opinion of a writer in The Strand magazine in 1896 as he praised the performance of Mr David Devant, “the well-known prestidigitateur and popular entertainer” who “electrified the audience” at the Egyptian Hall with his dexterous displays of paper- folding. To buy the book, call Exel Cash Sales (01634 297123), p&p free on UK mainland.. Perhaps no more entertaining form of indoor pastime has ever been devised than the rapid folding of a sheet of pleated paper into various shapes. He has wasted his life entirely, but, after all, what else can one do with it, and what else might it be for? In death he is consoled by the one small thing that there was on the plus side.Introduction by Louis de Bernieres to `Epitaph of a Small Winner’ by Machado de Assis (Bloomsbury, pounds 6.99).
The “epitaph” is narrated by its dead protagonist, Braz Cubas, and is written with “the pen of mirth and the ink of melancholy”. Braz relates the story of an adulterous love affair that finally fizzles out, and, indeed, the entire story of his life, which also fizzles out.In the meantime Braz has suffered some reverses, betrayed lovers and friends, lost a fiancee in a plague, become a disciple of the mad philosopher Quincas Borba, whose “humanitism” is clearly a spoof of the optimistic philosophies then fashionable, and has become a deputy in parliament for only one term of office. Enjoy his books, and if you go to Rio, place a potato on his tomb.The Epitaph of a Small Winner is the first in a quasi-trilogy which continues with Quincas Borba, Philosopher or Dog? and ends with Dom Casmurro. This is not pessimism; it is a profound and affectionate celebration of the triviality and inanity of the human race.Machado is still laughing at us from 6ft down, and cordially invites us to join him, both in his laughter and in his grave. We have, it turns out, hugely enjoyed the experience of reading him, because Machado is unlike the greater majority of pessimists and satirists, in that he is not for one second a misanthropist.
On the contrary, he likes us quite a lot, and there is no sourness, hostility or contempt in his manner as, with a kind of detached amusement and with one eyebrow raised, he sketches out our foibles, follies and delusions. He tells us that a freed slave goes out and buys a slave of his own. He demonstrates the irresistible tug of our basest desires, and the emptiness of our high philosophies.Dom Casmurro is perhaps an exception, but for the most part his books do not leave us with a bitter aftertaste. That he is a pessimist is something that has been so frequently reiterated that one hardly dares to controvert it, and it is true that he presents us with the arbitrariness of fate and the inevitability of death.He tells us that our romantic loves are venial and ephemeral, and that our inveterate apathy always triumphs over our deepest passions and noblest aspirations. Here is a selection:”The best way to appreciate a whip is to be holding it in one’s hand.”"Philosophy is one thing, and actual dying is another.”"A ridiculous old age is the last and perhaps the saddest surprise of human nature.”"God alone knows the power of an adjective, especially in new, tropical countries.”"I know you have a certain philosophy – but let’s talk about dinner.”And, of course, “To the victor the potatoes”.Quite apart from the sheer pleasure that we derive from several passages, of great poetic force, this “jolliness” is the reason why we do not go out and hang ourselves after reading Machado.
Every sentence, in fact, is a jolly one, and a fair proportion of them ought to be collected in a small volume entitled The Wit And Wisdom Of Machado de Assis. “They are my weakness.” Fortunately for us, each and every chapter of Machado, however dismal, is a jolly one. We are referred to other chapters, as if Machado is spoofing a legal document or an academic tract, and he reflects often upon the text itself, so that, as he says, “I have already compared my style to the progress of a drunk.” But what an entertaining drunk! This is the kind of drunk who has had three glasses of excellent red wine, has loosened his belt by one notch, and has just hit his stride “I like jolly chapters,” says one of his characters. We are offered delightfully whimsical and irrelevant passages of light philosophising, we find chapters that are only one sentence long, chapters which are quite strangely inconsequential, chapters about why Machado has not written a chapter, chapters consisting of dots and punctuation marks.