 Title: "Found Among the Personal Papers of Jeremy Pike" (1/1) My dear Jeremy: I trust this letter will find you in good health. No doubt you and James have every situation under control and are able to find plenty of free time to amuse yourselves (and one another, I would think) while I am marooned here in a very humid and unfortunately smoky Washington. (Why is it necessary to burn so many fires when the heat is already oppressive?!) Yesterday I was forced to change my shirt three times during the long day, and then again when dressing for the French ambassador's reception last evening. I was able to have several new suits made in the time I've been here, luckily. My tailor has been incessantly busy, but he always makes time for me when I manage to get to Washington, bless his heart. Although I wore a simple tuxedo last night, I was able to garnish it with a new, deep purple cummerbund. I have also had the time and inclination to have my hair re-styled. But I forget, you just don't care that much about clothes, do you, Jeremy? I apologize if I bored you. Mr. G has been in an abominable mood. I'm afraid he's becoming far too used to my being in Washington; he'd best not forget I don't plan to be here forever! I would describe in detail the wonderful repast offered at last night's affaire, but I know this would probably bore you as well. You are a man whose vices are limited in number, but not in scope, my dear Jeremy. Since I admit to gluttony as one of the vices I embrace, you'll be surprised to read that I have dropped half a stone since arriving in Washington. It must be the humid weather -- or perhaps just missing James, but my apetite has been weak. I may have made up for this a bit at last night's Epicurean delight. The tedious details of my work here have left me with far too much time on my hands. Instead of filling that time only in the way you are imagining, I have also found time to do quite a bit of translating. Mon ami in the French Embassy (M. Roget) has smuggled me a great deal of the work of the Divine Marquis, including a great find which will amaze you; I am determined to translate it in its entirety when I have the opportunity. I would send some of the original French along to you (since you would be able to appreciate it), but I don't have the energy to copy it (the work is profuse!). I'll share some of it, however. It's as fascinating as I expected it would be. And I'm sure someone of your tastes will feel the same. Speaking of those tastes, does Jim still believe you nothing more than a "plain man"? Or did you give into the temptation that I have to attest is far too much for any man to resist? You must agree that James is probably one of the most beautiful men on earth, with a charm as attractive as his physique. Although you may feel him a little older than you prefer, Jeremy. (!! This was not meant to be snide, so please don't hold it against me!) Since I've heard nothing from either of you (aside from a few telegraphs), I fear you've become more than a little involved. James is a notoriously poor correspondent, of course; but you, Jeremy, are being very silent. Knowing you as I do, Jeremy, I feel compelled to remind you that my relationship with James is far from casual; and our partnership stands true in all things, not just in our work. It's enough for you to 'fill in' for me in my absence, and I appreciate your willingness. But I wouldn't want you to believe for one minute that your amenable pairing with Jim is more than temporary. If this sounds a little preachy, or perhaps a little jealous, I apologize. I must admit I can't help envying you your proximity to James, who has become very important in my life. Without becoming maudlin, I will admit to you that I'm missing Jim more than I thought I would -- and even the most tempting pursuits have not filled my time as I thought they would. You may already be aware of some of James' tastes by now. Being a passable cook yourself, I'm sure you're keeping him well fed. Being more than a passable athlete in pursuits usually horizontal, I imagine you may even be teaching him a thing or two. Please don't believe I have any sort of problem with this. You know me too well. I'd rather Jim didn't expend too much of his energy in pursuing the fairer (!) sex, since the dangers of this sort of liaison weigh heavily on my mind. And when James is bored, he does wander. However, as I mentioned in my earlier correspondence, there might be certain tastes you'll want to curtail (or at least check). James must be treated very carefully. He's rather like a fine horse, a thoroughbred racer. He must be coaxed and cajoled; and any discipline must be applied with an eye to his spirit. His surrender must be obtained with the touch of a connoisseur, and when obtained, must be treasured. And he must not surrender too much or too often. I'm sure you're chuckling at these concerns, Jeremy. You think I'm an old hen clucking over Jim like a baby chick. I don't see you as a chicken hawk, Jeremy, ready to prey on James. I just know well enough that in many ways Jim is not suited to you. This is no criticism of you or of him. It is simply the way of the world. I did meet a young man last night at the ambassador's dinner party who would intrigue you, to say the least. Although not French, he spoke the language fluently and with a delightful Parisian accent. He was quite beautiful physically, with bright eyes and shining hair. His mouth was extraordinary, and he showed a spirit which demanded taming. I could see he was a young man drawn to his elders, who may have had a taste of discipline already. I think you would have been fascinated. He had read some of the Marquis' work, and we had quite a conversation. He professed to having had a copy of an original manuscript at one time, but I was never sure if he meant he had owned it, merely seen it -- or perhaps stolen it. You're wondering how far our conversation went. Not far enough, I'm sorry to say. I was summoned (again!) from this event by Mr. G, who was impatient and unhappy with some of the reports being prepared for him. I fear Mr. G is indulging far too much in drink; his health seems as poor as his mood. How this will end up, I don't know . . . Speaking of reports, I was impressed with the one you wrote regarding the "Pelican" matter. Your writing is fine, Jeremy, quite interesting and even colorful. You have a gift. You made the entire matter sound fascinating. When I read it, I could wish I were there with you and James in San Francisco (one of my favorite places), instead of here in this odiferous city! I'm attempting to keep a good face on it, since I don't want our superiors to feel Jim and I have become too attached. Still, you probably understand my concern about James taking on a string of partners. While I have every confidence and comfort in your skills, I'm less impressed with Ned, as you can imagine. Yes, Jim is a wonderful agent with remarkable abilities. But he can't do everything alone. He needs a talented partner. Watching some of the things happening here in Washington and in Denver, I fear the quality of the Service may suffer in years to come. I hope you'll be able to stay with Jim until I return, although I know this may be difficult. I heard rumors of something in the works for you, which you probably already know. If not, it shouldn't be I who acts as informant. On what may be a lighter note, please try to curtail Jim's smoking, Jeremy. An occasional cigar is a harmless diversion, but more than that becomes a nasty habit. I don't want the train to smell like a barroom when I return. If reminded, Jim will defer. Now, I must move on to the subject of the manuscripts I have been fortunate to obtain. I am delighted to now be in possession of a printed copy of La Philosophie dans le Boudoir done by the Marquis' own printer, M. Giroud. It includes the four engravings, as well as the original inscription, "La mere en prescrira la lecture a sa fille." For some reason, subsequent versions have reversed this admonition to say that mothers will want to keep the story from their daughters, instead of it being required reading. Later publishers must have misunderstood the Marquis' dark irony. When we see one another again (which we will, I trust, someday soon), I'll share this treasure! You'll enjoy it immensely. Although I haven't spent a lot of time with it, I have noticed that the translation which I already own is very poorly done. It reads very well in the native tongue. The characters are as amusing, charming and outrageous, but the author's original intent was even more frank and more descriptive than the pale translation we've both already read. This, as wonderful as it may be, can hardly be compared with the ultimate gift M. Roget presented me. As you know, the Divine Marquis' ultimate work, "Les 120 Journees de Sodome" was uncovered in France in this century, found in the Marquis' cell in the Bastille; and although the Marquis died believing the manuscript destroyed, the Villaneuve-Trans family has kept it in their possession for these many years. M. Roget has a benefactor in Lyons who is well acquainted with the family. And this gentleman spent many months copying the manuscript, which was still rolled like a scroll and covered with the Marquis' tiny hand. It took the man more time, hunched over a desk, huddled close to a lamp (not too close, lest the precious paper come near the flame!), to copy the thing than it took the Marquis to actually write it in 1785! Three copies were finally made, and one of those is now in my hands! Imagine being one of four in possession of this masterpiece! And now, a century after it was written, I will enable to translate it into English for a select audience of friends and aficionados of Donatien Alphonse, like yourself. Of course, I don't doubt you would rather have the French and then translate yourself. If this is the case, you will need to wait until my translation is complete; I will then be happy to have the thing copied for you. However, in the meantime, let me share some of what I have already transcribed for you: "And now, friend-reader, you must prepare your heart and your mind for the most impure tale that has ever been told since our world began, a book the likes of which are met with neither amongst the ancients nor amongst us moderns. Fancy, now, that all pleasure-taking either sanctioned by good manners or enjoined by that fool you speak of incessantly, of whom you know nothing and whom you call Nature; fancy, I say, that all these modes of taking pleasure will be expressly excluded from this anthology, or that whenever peradventure you do indeed encounter them here, they will always be accompanied by some crime or colored by some infamy. "Many of the extravagances you are about to see illustrated will doubtless displease you, yes, I am well aware of it, but there are amongst them a few which will warm you to the point of costing you some fuck, and that, reader, is all we ask of you; if we have not said everything, analyzed everything, tax us not with partiality. Rather, it is up to you to take what you please and leave the rest alone, another reader will do the same, and little by little, everyone will find himself satisfied. It is the story of the magnificent banquet: six hundred different plates offer themselves to your appetite; are you going to eat them all? No, surely not, but this prodigious variety enlarges the bounds of your choice and, delighted by this increase of possibilities, it surely never occurs to you to scold the Amphitron who regales you. Do likewise here: choose and let lie the rest without declaiming against that rest simply because it does not have the power to please you. Consider that it will enchant someone else, and be a philosopher." What a sentiment, Jeremy! Considering some of what I have read in this treatise, the above does well to prepare the reader. The story chronicles the plan of four libertines, "kindred through their wealth and tastes," who plot to carry out an elaborate series of orgies wherein every imaginable sort of debauch will take place. Through intermarriage they bind themselves to one another, and then they set aside parts of their combined and massive wealth for the purpose of pursuing this plan. Let me interrupt to give you part of the Marquis' description of one of his heroes, the Duc de Blangis; it's so well done and amusing: "It was rumored abroad that the Duc's huge construction was responsible for the undoing of all his wives, and as this gigantic tale corresponded in every point to its gigantic inspiration, the Duc let the opinion take root and veil the truth (that the Duc had murdered them). That dreadful colossus did indeed make one think of a Hercules or a centaur: Blangis stood five feet eleven inches tall, had limbs of great strength and energy, powerful sinews, elastic nerves, in addition to that a proud and masculine visage, great dark eyes, handsome black eyelashes, an aquiline nose, fine teeth, a quality of health and exuberance, broad shoulders, a heavy chest but a well-proportioned figure withal, splendid hips, superb buttocks, the handsomest leg in the world, an iron temperament, the strength of a horse, the member of a veritable mule, wondrously hirsute, blessed with the ability to eject its sperm any number of times within a given day and at will, even at the age of fifty, which was his age at the time, a virtually constant erection in this member whose dimensions were an exact eight inches for circumference and twelve for length overall, and there you have a portrait of the Duc de Blangis, drawn as accurately as if you'd wielded the pencil yourself." For the purpose of enacting 150 "simple passions," 150 "complex passions," 150 "criminal passions" and 150 "murderous passions," the four men bring together 46 players including themselves, six kitchen staff, four storytellers, eight 'fuckers,' eight little boys, eight little girls, four wives and four 'elders.' In the manuscript the Marquis completed, ten of these are massacred in the course of the orgies (which cover from November 1 to March 1 (120 days). 20 are supposedly murdered after March 1, and 16 survive. The great roll containing this remarkable story took the Marquis 37 days to complete. So quickly was his transcription of what were evidently voluminous notes, he made several mistakes. As he had continuing eye trouble, he was never able to completely re-read what he had written -- and, of course, ultimately he lost the manuscript. Still, the roll included some instructions to himself, such as "Said too much about active and passive sodomy; conceal that until the stories have discussed it," after Part the First. If the Marquis had had an opportunity to edit this work, one can only suppose what would have come of it. It is extremely detailed. Obviously it was also designed to shock the reader and detail acts that can rightly be called atrocities. (Keeping in mind the Marquis' initial admonition to the reader, we can expect to be displeased by much of the story.) I am enclosing several pages of translation from Part the First for your enjoyment. This is all I've been able to finish after reading through the lengthy manuscript in its entirety. At a later time, I promise to send more. The Marquis obviously went very far in this story to show acts of debauchery as "crimes." For many, of course, sodomy itself is a crime. After all, did they not execute the Marquis in effigy for that very crime?! The irony of this is not lost on the writer or the educated reader. If critics can call Laclos' 'Les Liaisons Dangereuses' a dark masterpiece of cynicism, they will call "Days of Sodom" the ultimate work of evil. Jim, you must know, has little or no interest in the Marquis' work. He finds it "boring," "too complicated" and "stupid," to name just a few of his comments from the times I've attempted to enlighten him. He found the dialogue in "Philosophie" to be stilted and unrealistic and was unimpressed with the talents of the sodomite, Dolmance -- and even the handsome young Chevalier. Jim was willing, on one occasion, to quote the Divine Marquis in a line from "Philosophie" which he found amusing. I believe it went something like, "Please, friend, allow me to frig this splendid member!" I don't think James was completely serious about the language, but I remember him being quite serious in the intent. I'm afraid James has little interest in fine literature, however erotic. He does have several copies of The Pearl, the English paper, and he seems to find some of the stories and limericks amusing. I remember him laughing out loud at a lovely poem entitled, "The Old Dildoe." And he seems to enjoy the endless stories of young lads being flagellated on their naked behinds by lubricious schoolmasters. This is really no surprise, given his tastes. But I imagine by now you know this yourself, Jeremy. If not, I have lost a great deal of confidence in you. I can't help giving you the hint that a truly fine hand-tooled leather switch can be found in the cupboard near the bed in my compartment. If you haven't already tried it, be my guest. Well, I must close. I have a long report to codify before I leave for the evening -- and I do intend to look up that young man from last night's reception. I invited him to a late private supper, and he seemed pleased to accept; he said he was anxious to look over the manuscript from M. Roget. This will hopefully not be all he'll have the pleasure of looking over. I did want to take time to write, however, and remind you I am still here in Washington; while I may be thousands of miles away, I am very close in thought. I will send this to the Denver post office box; it will hopefully be forwarded to your next stop. I would obviously prefer you not share this letter with James. I am sending along one for him, which should help alleviate his curiosity over what I am writing to you. Take care of yourself, and even more, take care of my beloved James. With every confidence in you, I remain, Your friend, Artemus |