A man lies sleepless in a foul-smelling room while raucous noises come from next door, and women—past and present, real or imagined—pass through his mind. From these few elements, Romanian author Dumitru Tsepeneag builds a dreamlike world both ancient and contemporary, and as mesmerizing as that in his critically acclaimed Vain Art of the Fugue. Praised by Emil Cioran for its precise and masterly evocation of sensual detail, The Necessary Marriage confirms Tsepeneag's position as one of the most important Eastern European writers of the post-communist era.
unable to sleep he tosses from side to side or on his stomach with one knee bent and pillow over his eyes then abruptly rolls over next to the wall that smells of damp and mice everywhere mice and slugs that get it into their heads to stroll around the room at night it’s theirs too after all he simply can’t drop off can’t manage to get through into sleep to pull away the black wall-curtain dotted with a thousand holes and venules of light a green or blue light proof that it’s only a curtain he must open to escape the reek of mice and the damp of mouse piss he can’t get to sleep sweats from all the writhing vainly clamps down his eyelids vainly furrows his brow vainly buries his face in the pillow trying hard to think of nothing
takes deep breaths as after a race
wipes his cheeks and forehead passes his tongue over parched lips but doesn’t open his eyes stays a while like that on his back a clanging of dishes can be heard in the kitchen a shuffling of feet amplified as the sounds reach him he turns over and presses the pillow to his ears until the clanging and shuffling stop he no longer hears anything but that buzzing inside sometimes louder than the noises outside he closes his eyelids tighter and stops breathing the buzzing grows more intense a yellow-green expanse looking like a plain or perhaps the calm surface of a pond covered with crow-silk he now hears the beating of his heart feels he is choking the pond disappears the curtain falls blacker than before and he jumps up in bed making all its joints creak kicks off the blanket finds himself again pressed against the wall smelling of mold and urine as though there were a urinal on the other side probes it with his fingertips it’s cold and rough he sits upright with his eyes still shut fumbles for the blanket pulls it furiously up towards him leaving his feet uncovered crashes down on his side kicks the frame with the soles of his feet and tries to cover his legs but the blanket has spread diagonally and barely half-covers him all efforts to rearrange it are in vain
he is panting as he gives up
the noise of a pot or pan crashing to the floor comes from the kitchen he opens his eyes the chestnut leaves are still out there the table is full of leftovers a lamb’s head smirks at him from a plate its eyes and teeth intact he wasn’t hungry ate only the green salad lurking behind the untouched steak a photograph shows a girl standing against a backdrop of hills and dales a puff of wind stirs the leaves outside the window or maybe it was a bird the kitchen sends out an almost melodious tinkling Ileana has probably dropped some teaspoons together on the tiled floor an enlargement of the same photo has been stuck to the cupboard with drawing-pins he could reach it from the bed just by stretching out his arm or leg the paint on it has peeled away as it has on the scratched crayon-daubed door as well
closes his eyes again and mentally starts to count
his sleep had been long and troubled the blanket lay fallen at the foot of the bed the sheet had become creased his pajama fly had opened and his genitals were hanging out purplish-red he had been masturbating again
looks around heavy with sleep
Ana had already left it was raining outside the plate roof next door glistened in the persistent drizzle a swallow briefly tore through the watery curtain he should have got up to check the time otherwise he’d be late again he yawned for a long while and turned onto his side she had tiptoed out so as not to disturb him and left no word she was the only one with a watch the alarm clock was broken he ought to go to the next room and ask the time thick rough male voices could be heard there that meant it was late possibly even after midday voices and clinking glasses they were hatching some plot the voices sometimes fell to a whisper punctuated by bursts of laughter that were swiftly suppressed
she may have sent a child to wake him if necessary
the child first tried to climb onto the window ledge to look into the room either he didn’t succeed or he saw the sleeping figure and didn’t dare to knock on the pane but neither did he dare go back to school without completing his mission so he plucked up his courage and went into the kitchen to ask the fat woman puttering around there to go and wake him up it was Miss who sent me to get him and he glanced around the kitchen can’t you see I’ve got food on the stove the woman said refusing to go into the room where the teacher was continuing to snore on his back with one arm over his eyes to keep out the sunlight you can knock on his door yourself and shout for him to get up she gestured angrily with her hips and shoulders the pupil realized he had no choice take those boots off she said you can’t go in like that we’re not in a cowshed here and he crossed the large basil-scented room where no one ever lingered for long went to the teacher’s door and stood in front of it for a few moments yes the teacher was snoring and naturally did not hear the first knocks nor the next the messenger was forced to hammer with fists or even a knee on the door until finally the bed creaked and he heard a gruff voice telling him come in
he opens his eyes
sometimes it was Ana who came in holding a bunch of wild flowers and with an exaggerated briskness and jollity looked around for a vase or jug scarcely glancing in the direction of the bed haven’t you got up yet she said in a voice oozing indifference it’s a wonderful day out there when she passed the bed he shot out an arm to catch her and draw her towards him you’re a great big drunk in the same merry but indifferent voice Veta picked up the vase again and laughed I’m going to the kitchen and when I come back I don’t want to see you still in bed
takes deep breaths
Ileana is in the habit of coming in without knocking you were asleep she pauses inside for a moment then looks over her shoulder and locks the door with a double turn of the key she takes the two remaining steps to the bed on tiptoe supporting herself against the cupboard it’s going to rain she predicts as she unbuttons her blouse he squeezes against the wall to make room for her the tap in the kitchen is still dripping he mentally counts the drops closes his eyes and waits for her soft body as he waits for the sleep that is sometimes a long time in coming it’s in vain that he then tosses from side to side in the bed clothes smelling of sweat clamps down his eyelids clenches his jaw glues his forehead to the damp wall smelling of urine or pulls the blanket over his ears the black veil hangs there blocking out the leaves of the chestnut tree but also the roof glistening in the rain
wipes the sweat from his brow
he turns over onto his stomach as far as possible from the foul-smelling wall buries his head in the pillow but it’s to no avail he again turns on his back with both pillows over his face at least that blocks the noise from the kitchen now he can hear only the uninterrupted sound of his heartbeats pounding ever faster Ana came into the room and thinking he was still asleep passed the palm of her hand over his perspiring brow he shot out his arm caught her round the waist drew her into bed and paid no heed to her spirited shouting you drunk you great big drunk
sighs
the body now is large and soft he retreats towards the damp wall shuts his eyes and waits to feel the woman’s heavy breasts on his face to taste the slight sourness of her flabby body but she has lain flat on her back and smiles as she slowly strokes her belly why are you laughing I’m not laughing he props himself up on an elbow with his back glued to the cold wall but the woman doesn’t even glance at him goes on stroking her belly then the hair above her sex and with a smile fixes her eyes on the ceiling what’s so funny he says he brings his mouth close to one of her nipples hesitates for a moment then takes the coffee-colored cone between his lips and begins to chew and suck
he is panting as he gives up and again opens his eyes
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