The Gatto Fritto 12I
_ We said nothing to each other about this. It was,
‘in fact, deeper and darker than could be conveyed by
articulate speech.
Man differs from the lower animals indeed, first of
all, in this matter of language. The use of language
compels one to measure one’s thoughts. That is why
the great philosophers and mystics, who are dealing
with ideas that cannot be expressed in such terms,
are constantly compelled to use negative adjectives,
or to rebuke the mind by formulating their thoughts
in a series of contradictory statements. That is the
explanation of the Athanasian Creed. Its clauses
puzzle the plain man. | ,
One must oneself be divine to comprehend divinity.
The converse proposition is equally true. The
passions of the pit find outlet only in bestial noises.
The automobile stopped at the end of the dirty little
street where the Fauno Ebbrio lurks. The motorman
pointed to the zig-zag streak of light that issued from
it, and cast a sinister gleam on the opposite wall.
A bold, black-haired, short-skirted girl with a gaudy
shawl and huge gold ear-rings was standing in the door.
What with the long journey and the drugs and other
things, we were a little drunk—just enough to realise
that it was part of our policy to pretend to be a little
more drunk than we were.
We let our heads roll from side to side as we staggered
to the door. We sat down at a little table and called
for drink. They served us one of those foul Italian
imitations of liqueurs that taste like hair-wash.
But instead of nauseating us, it exalted us; we
enjoyed it as part of the game. Dressed as low-class
Neapolitans, we threw ourselves heartily into the
part.
We threw the fiery filth down our throats as if it
had been Courvoisier ’65. The drink took effect on us
with surprising alacrity. It seemed to let loose those
swarming caravans of driver ants that eat their way