|
XX
IN THE NATURAL
course of events, since Mr. Gurdjieff was
engaged in writing books, it was necessary for him to employ
a typist. He did not set about this in any ordinary manner,
but he employed, with great fanfare, a young German woman
he had discovered somewhere in his travels. For several days
before hcr arrival we heard about her. Elaborate preparations
were made for her coming, including finding the proper room
for hcr, the acquisition of a typewriter, arrangements for
suitable working space, and so on. Gurdjieff praised her
attributes to all of us, told us how lucky he had been to find
this perfect person "for my purposes", and we awaited her
arrival with great anticipation.
When she did arrive, she was introduced to all of us, a
dinner was served in her honour, and the whole process was
very festive -- she was given what we called the "royal treat-
ment", and she responded to it whole-heartedly, taking herself
as seriously as Gurdjieff seemed to take her. It turned out that
her major, magnificent accomplishment was that she could
type, as Gurdjieff repeatedly told us in complete amazement,
"without even looking at key on typewriter."
No secretary or typist has, I feel sure, ever been accorded
such treatment because of her ability to use the touch system.
As if to prove to us all that this ability actually existed, the
young woman installed herself at a table on the terrace, in
full view of all of us as we came and went to and from our work,
and remained there -- typing merrily -- all summer long,
except on rainy days. The clicking of her typewriter resounded
in all of our ears.
My first contact with her, and in fairness to her I must
admit to a strong anti-German prejudice, having grown up
on stories of German atrocities during World War I, was one
evening when I was doing my own washing in the courtyard
in back of the house after work. She did not know me, except
by sight, and, assuming that I was French, called to me from
a window overlooking the courtyard, asking me in heavily
accented French where she could obtain what she called some
"Savon Lux" ; she managed to convey to me that she needed
this to wash her stockings. I said, in English, which I knew
she understood and spoke much better than French, that I
assumed she could buy it at the local epicerie about half a mile
distant. Her response was to toss some coins down to me and
to tell me that she would appreciate my getting her some
at once.
I picked up the money, went up the stairs and handed it to
her. I said that I thought I should explain to her that there
were no errand boys at the Prieure and that no one had, so far,
told me that she was any exception to the general rule that
everyone did their own personal work, which included personal
shopping. She said, with a "charming" smile, that she was sure
that no one would have any objection to my performing this
errand for her since she was, as perhaps I did not yet realize,
engaged on very important work for Mr. Gurdjieff. I ex-
plained that I, too, was engaged on similar work; that I took
care of him and his rooms and did my own errands as well.
She seemed amazed, and after a moment's reflection said
that she would straighten out the matter with Mr. Gurdjieff --
that there must be some misunderstanding, at least on my part,
concerning her function at the school. I did not have to wait
very long for further developments. A "coffee summons" came
from his room only a few minutes later.
When I arrived at his room with the coffee, the typist, as
I had expected, was sitting with him. I served the coffee and
then Mr. Gurdjieff turned to me with one of his "winning"
smiles: "You know this lady?" he asked.
I said that, yes, I knew her.
He then said that she had spoken to him and that he under
stood that she had asked me to perform an errand for her and
that I had refused. I said that it was true and that, besides,
everyone else performed their own errands.
He agreed that this was so, but said that he had not had
time to instruct her about everything and that he would
appreciate it very much if, on this one occasion and as a favour
to him, because she was very important to him, I would be
kind enough to do what she asked. I was baffled and even
angry, but I said, of course, that I would. She handed me the
money and I went to the store and bought her soap. I assumed
that, however I might feel, he had a good reason for asking me
to do the errand for her and decided that the incident was
closed. Perhaps she was actually "special" in some way that
I had not realized; Gurdjieff, at least, appeared to think
she was.
I was furious, however, when after I had given her the soap
ant! her change, she gave me a tip and said that she was
sure that I now realized that she had been right in the first
place, and that she hoped Mr. Gurdjieff's action had made it
clear to me. I smouldered, but managed to hold my tongue.
I also managed not to mention it to Mr. Gurdjieff when I saw
him, but I continued to smoulder.
Several days later, on a weekend, a number of guests
arrived. Gurdjieff welcomed them at his usual little table near
the lawns, in front of the terrace where the typist was at work.
I brought coffee for all of them and served it. He indicated,
with a gesture, that I was not to leave, and then proceeded to
tell the assembled guests that he could hardly wait to show
them his new marvels, his two wonderful new acquisitions: an
electric icebox and a "touch typist". He then told me to lead
the way to the pantry where the new refrigerator had been
installed, and the guests were properly mystified upon being
shown an ordinary model Frigidaire which, as Gurdjieff put
it, "all by self can make ice", even, "without my help" --
a true product of the genius of the western world. This inspec-
tion completed, we all went back to the terrace to inspect the
second marvel who, also "without my help and even without
looking at keys", was able to type his book. The typist stood up
to greet him but Gurdjieff, without introducing her, told her
to sit down. Then, at his command, she typed "without even
looking at keys" but gazing triumphantly off into space.
Gurdjieff stood among his guests, gazing at her with un-
bounded admiration, speaking of her as another product of the
"genius" of the western world. I was, actually, fascinated by
the ability to use the touch system on a typewriter and my own
interest and admiration were unfeigned. Gurdjieff suddenly,
looked in my direction and smiled an enormous, broad smile,
as if we shared some huge joke together, and then told me to
collect the coffee cups.
It was not until much later that evening, in his room, that
he referred to the typist once more. He spoke first of the
"electric icebox" -- "only have to put in plug and instantly
box make noise of humming and begin produce ice." He
smiled at me again, conspiratorially. "Is so with German lady.
I like plug -- I tell type, and she also begin make noise and
produce not ice, but book. Wonderful American invention."
I almost liked her then, and would have been happy to do
her errands from that time on. I could not refrain from saying
so, and Gurdjieff nodded at me, looking pleased. "When you
help typing lady, you help me, like giving oil to machine
which keep working; this wonderful thing."
Go to Next Page
|