O Primo Basilio...........Eça de Queiroz

What a pleasant breakfast, Luísa stretched her arms indolently; she could see Jorge watching her cleavage where her robe had fallen open. Jorge liked her looks, although not beautiful in a conventional way, her masses of beautiful brown hair and her wide brown eyes were good to look at, her curvaceous figure was delicious add to it a pleasant nature and Luísa was what every man would dream and want in a wife.

But Luísa was bored, her day yawned before her, what to do? How to get the day to move faster? Go to the milliner, she had dozens of hats of every hue. Dresses by the dozens to match her numerous hats, so a visit to the dressmaker was really unnecessary.  

Library, that again tedious, she had read piles of those milk-and-water romances, they were turning to be oh so predictable, the lovers most of the times from nobility, feigning dislike for each other only to marry ultimately, the settings always opulent, the situations decadent, tea parties, balls, hunts everything catered for a life of hedonism, which only royalty and nobility could afford. Luísa smiled, when had she gone for a hunt, those novels were a far cry from her life.

As for sex, the novels ignored it, sex just did not happen, if the couples so much as exchanged a kiss that was bold.

Now what Luísa really liked were her conversations with her friend Leopoldina, that woman was something, dozens of lovers and such erotic stories. You make me blush Leopoldina, no, no how can one do such things. Angel, my angel, Leopoldina would laugh with a superior air born of experience and knowledge. Of course Luísa had to pretend that such eroticism  scandalised her, horrified her, but they both knew that was a façade, of course Luísa had to pretend not to like those racy stories, act as though sex was not for her, didn’t you know a lady of society never likes sex? Just grins and bears it. Come now we know better, who in their right mind can resist sex?

And then one fine day in conversation with that stick-in-the-mud Sebastião, Jorge decides that she, Luísa was not to talk to Leopoldina, was to stop her from visiting, a total embargo on Leopoldina. In their opinion Leopoldina was destroying her innocence, Luísa had no problems if her innocence was in tatters, she wanted her purity to be sullied, she was a full blooded woman after all. Of course Jorge wanted her to be the perfect, demure wife, but what Luísa really wanted was excitement, romance and most of all to experience what Leopoldina did, oh yes that was a thrilling prospect. She sighed, what a bleak existence she really led. What was she to do? Vaguely she heard Jorge blabbing, oh how he would miss her, his little treasure, his little heart. Jorge was going on a field trip. Luísa would miss him too but she knew that Jorge would not be sad for too long, he would find women, he would have his flings.

She breathed in deeply, and then a snippet in the corner of the newspaper caught her eye. Her cousin Basilio was visiting the country.  She was excited, went red and warm, remembering those moments of awakening when Basilio visited her so often and they would go on those long, long walks stealing kisses and caresses whilst Mama broke her duties as a chaperone to have little naps. Oh how she had loved Basilio. Loved him intensely with all he passion of a young girl. And then all of a sudden he had gone away to make his fortune. Had he? She wondered made his fortune? Would he visit her? Suddenly her day did not seem endless, in fact it seemed shorter and she had so much to do. A hat for instance.

Of course Basilio would visit her; he could never resist a woman besides he already knew her, those walks, those luscious kisses all under Mama’s very nose. He was sure she had turned delectable, a red plum waiting to be picked.  Basilio thought of women as fruit to be nurtured, to be picked when ripe and savoured. Plums, peaches, nectarines he loved them all, just waiting for him. Visit her he did and was not surprised that she was not at all averse to his attentions, she was coy, she flirted with him and yes as Basilio had foreseen she was ready to fall in his arms much like a ripe peach.

On suggesting that they rent a room for more privacy, Luísa never balks, never even bats an eyelid, oh to experience everything that Leopoldina was talking about, she imagines the setting for the idyll to be congenial, opulent perhaps, but to her surprise it is just a shabby little room in a derelict area. Despite the sadness of the room the affair continues.

Although Luísa has to travel a long distance to get to the shabby room, which now seems home, she does not pull back. She is feverish at the thought of not meeting Basilio.

Even when Juliana, the wretched servant catches hold of some of Luísa’s letters and blackmails her, Luísa hangs on to the sordid liaison.

Then Juliana not only blackmails Luísa but treats her with utter disdain, wears Luísa’s clothes, lazes around not doing a jot of work whilst Luísa slaves the entire day, except when she escapes for her rendezvous. Juliana lords over Luísa, how sweet can revenge be? Does Luisa stop her affair? Oh no, it only increases her passion for Basilio.

Despite the fact that Luísa now realises that to Basilio she is just a toy, is not even courteous, treats her badly, but she hangs in there.

Jorge prolongs his stay; he is away for so long that we wonder, does he have a relationship of his own?

Then Jorge returns and Basilio flies the coop, no more promises of Paris, no more endearments, it’s too murky a situation for Basilio, why tangle with Jorge over a piece of skirt, anyway there were no more surprises to be had from Luísa, he was done with her.

Things go from bad to worse for Luísa; her guilt weighs on her so heavily that she falls ill. Just when she is about to recover Jorge shows her a letter that Basilio has written, accuses her, but Luísa so traumatised falls apart, never recovers  and dies of an unnamed illness.

Now questions arise.

Why did Eça de Queiroz who was writing a novel of realism ‘kill’ Luísa?

What was he afraid of?

Did he want to show that the sin of ‘adultery’ in a woman, can never be forgiven, can never be condoned, a woman can never go scot free; so did Eça punish Luísa by killing her?

Or was Eça afraid of a much more devastating situation, was he terrified that women would begin to like their sexual freedom? Had Luísa lived would she have taken more lovers, much like the wanton Leopoldina? Did he fear was that he had created a monster, much like Frankenstein which he did not know how to rein in?

Oh Eça you opened a can of worms which was very difficult to close……….

Coinsão Pidade

Sitting at my window I see my neighbour toiling in his garden and I think ‘Oh another day of overseeing the carpenters, will it ever end? I smile; I know the answer, ‘Never’, for a house such as mine, demands attention, is a hard taskmaster indeed. I take it stoically; I love this house that takes up so much of my time, built by my Grandmother with little help from anyone, with debts mounting and four children to look after, it’s a house built with great sacrifice.

Silence, normally there is such a lot of banter, but today the three carpenters seem immersed in their own thoughts.

Santan, the head carpenter a puny man, bears the marks of his trade on his body with dignity, like a battered knight after a crusade, an ageing lion, a fleck of whitewash in his eye, on the roof of a church has left him blind in one eye, he now uses a clean white glass eye, eerie at first but you get used to it, limbs twisted from healed fractures and scars spread all over his frame.

But what really gets to you is his deafness. A conversation with him and Nazaré, the second in command leaves you depleted, for he too cannot hear a word. It is at such moments that John Chin comes in handy.

Now John Chin loves to enjoy life, always well dressed with an assortment of colourful T-shirts and hats he does look trendy a far cry from the other two in their old well worn clothes.

I can hear him entreating the other two ‘why don’t we go to the beach this Sunday’. No response from the other two.  ‘Ok he continues I will get the food’. No response. ‘What about a tiatr then’. Nothing, the two continue sawing oblivious.

You see Santan and Nazareth love to spend their Sundays at home with their wives. Santan adores his wife Petula and Nazaré, well Nazaré has AnMari a virago for a wife.

John too had a wife once upon a time; things were fine, they were building a house, until he found letters from her to another man.  ‘V 2 R 1’ she wrote to another, where shall we meet she said and just left John and the kids. So John is a sad and a lonely man despite the colourful T-shirts and the hats.

The silence except for some whistling from John Chin got to me; I sauntered towards the window next to a cupboard where Santan was working all set for a nice conversation, a little shouting here and there but what the hell…..

‘Santan…..And then Santan turns towards me, tears streaming down his face, sorrow on his face. Even the glass eye reflected sorrow ‘Santan what’s the matter, aren’t you feeling well?’

And Santan looks at me and says ‘she has disappeared…. ‘

‘Disappeared? Like a robot I seem to be repeating his words, ‘who has disappeared?’

‘Coinsão Pidade’

‘Coinsão Pidade?’

Yes, Coinsão Pidade’, my brother’s wife, my brother had abandoned her years ago but all of us love her, she is very much a part of our family’

I listen stupefied, ‘Petula and she had gone to visit my niece at the Medical College, on the way back Petula got down at her bus stop and Coinsão Pidade went on to check her field. After that there has been no sign of her. Her sons have searched every hospital and every morgue……’

My blood ran cold, but I was relieved too, nothing at the morgue there is hope then….Hope she has run off with someone, I think.

‘Is it true, Santan says, that there are some murders reported on the newspaper? We crowd around the paper. We have lit a dozens of candles at the foot of our altar. Please, please, please we entreat, please St. Anthony please…….

I take up the newspaper, yes there are around five bodies found in different parts;

Woman with a blue sari and red blouse aged about 25. I read, ‘No, no, this one is young,’ Coinsão Pidade is around 58. Good

Woman with T-shirt, no way. Relief.

Woman with no clothes, burnt beyond recognition, we breathe deeply, no marks of identification, aged around 35. No, no, this is not Coinsão Pidade, she is much older. We look at each other, it cannot be Coinsão Pidade, let it not be Coinsão Pidade……

Esmeralda, slinks in…..With a crooked, malicious smile she says, ‘Hey Santan, heard your sister-in-law has disappeared, is it true that she had withdrawn 20 thousand rupees from the Cofre at Majorda Church to give to one of her, you know………..’

Santan beyond all that looks at her, says nothing.

But I in a voice of great authority say, Esmeralda go to the kitchen immediately, no more talk and get tea for us all’. Esmeralda calls me from the kitchen, Psssst she says, ‘you are gullible, and you believe everything’ she mocks me with an air born of superior knowledge, some facts that I know nothing about.

‘Do you know her husband has left her’ ‘Yes’ ‘she knew men’ ‘who doesn’t’? Esmeralda glares’ ‘She withdrew 20 thousand and went off, went off with that young guy’;

‘Let it be, I pray, please let her go off with that young man’ let her be safe I beg St Anthony’.  We smile at each other, Esmeralda and I, ‘difficult I say to resist a younger man. Esmeralda glares, talk of men shock her, or at least she pretends to be shocked…..

                                                                                                II

‘Stop it you bitch, stop pulling my ear’, ‘I swear if you touch me once again, I will fucking knock your teeth in’

‘Arre, smart you are man Tyrone’ ‘when I touch you, in the night, you know where you don’t shout like this, no?’

‘Arre just shut up, I am really tired of you, Viola, tell me, you want the same treatment like that young woman in the blue sari, or what?’

‘SHUT UP, SHUT UP YOU TWO, I am tired of you and your love talk’

Both fall silent, both mortally scared of Chowdurry. Suddenly Viola sees a middle aged woman walking hurriedly in the gathering dusk, wearing a green and gold sari

‘Why are you stopping Tyrone, she is old, no good for sex man!’

‘Shut up you fucking bitch, CAN YOU NOT SEE THE BANGLES MAN’ you only think of sex’

‘Mãe, mãe, do you know where we can buy country chickens?’ Viola croons in a mellifluous voice

‘Country chickens, bai, uhmmm let me see, oh yes, Edosian has country chickens’

‘Mãe where does Edosian live’ ‘Close by?’

‘Not so close, well go straight and…’

‘Does she live close to you? We could drop you’

‘She does live close but……’

‘Come on Mãe, I am here, this is my husband and my brother in law, come on Mãe, get in’

‘Kill the fucking bitch, put the rope round her neck, strangle, see how the fucking bitch fights, the old bitch is strong, good she is still, bitch is now in heaven’

‘Let us have some fun with her! Ha ha lets go to the plateau have a beer, no? Then I will finish it, I feel so good, so horny, wheeeee’.

‘Let’s burn her body? I have never seen a body burning, wheeeee’

                                                                                                III

The next day very early Santan was at my door. ‘She has been found’ ‘Oh, oh, I say, I am so happy, really happy’

Santan looks at me tears in his eyes’ she was found in the morgue’ so badly burnt, so badly burnt that nobody could recognise her’

Oh no, oh no, no, no

‘Yes, her son recognised her by a fragment of her green and gold sari stuck to her back, rather burnt on to her back’

Oh, I just breathe in……

John Chin, the perennial optimist whispers to me ‘Look we asked that she be found and she was…..;’

I think should we have prayed let her be found alive, I don’t know …..

We all go for the funeral, the Church is full and the Vicar in his ponderous voice tells us, when someone in a village dies, a piece of you dies too….How true, everyone in a village is so connected, we share deep bonds unknowingly.

The coffin s sealed, we just say a tearful goodbye to Coinsão Pidade a woman who never deserved to die the way she did…..

Sometimes we talk of her and Esmeralda with her air superior knowledge says do you know those 20 thousand that Coinsão Pidade borrowed….I listen, after all we are human…..

Maria Jose Leite a writer from Portugal has different view when she speaks about Dom João’s flight from Portugal to Brazil

Maria Jose Leite a writer  from Portugal has different view when she speaks about Dom João’s flight from Portugal to Brazil and she shares it with us

Sonia thanks for sharing this with me

Sonia eu também agradeço que se interesse pela história deste país que tanto deu ao Mundo, muita porta se abriu entre os povos, muito, muito se avançou, milhares e milhares de pessoas do meu povo morreram por esse mundo  fora, a fazer bem, e se houve alguns que mal fizeram, sempre assim foi, hoje  assim é , se assim não fosse teríamos um mundo, sem guerra, sem fome, sem as
 existentes  desigualdades abismais no planeta onde uns morrem de fome e  outros possuem ilhas, iates, aviões.Milhões de portugueses ao longo de séculos deram  a vida melhorando os locais pelo locais por onde passaram, trocas comerciais do oriente ao ocidente, floras que eram transportadas de uns continentes para  outros, botânicos da época faziam estudo dos terrenos para  incentivar
 novas plantações. Sabia que nna carreira da Índia para a manter activa eram recrutados meninos de 10 anos por falta de homens ? as mães  choravam  mas ao mesmo tempo abençoavam os filhos por rem em missão tão nobre, muito se fala do menos bom e pouco se fala do muito e grandioso de bem e bom que foi feito e muitas vezes denegrido por alguns povos.

Only there are some things that are not so true, the carriages were not there only to transport the clothes or some other such foolish items of the Royal family. This was done mainly to save our Portuguese wealth which could be found in palaces, our heritage in paintings, jewels, sacre art., all of extremely great value. The King was an intelligent King. Throughout the centuries the great patrimony of riches from Portugal was stolen.

The journey to Brazil, after all it was Portuguese land and because all the European countries were dominated or conquered by Napoleon, Portugal wasn’t, thanks to this intelligent option, making Rio de Janeiro the Capital of Portugal during the war.

The royal family going to Brazil SAVED our independence. Carrying everything, at least all that they could take to Brazil was lucky for us, because all the riches that remained in Portugal were stolen by the French soldiers. If you go to Louvre you can see the best of the Portuguese riches stolen during the Napoleon’s forced entry. This is so sad really, sometimes some others speak ill of my people, although they profited from the Discovery of the Routes, actually other Europeans profited much more from the Discoveries, much more than we ourselves. History shows how true this is.

We were made to face the forced entry of NAPOLEON THE 1^st TIME, AND SECOND TIME alone, our people faced with so much courage Napoleon the first two times. At the third time England needed to defeat Napoleon and proposed we join forces to win over him definitively. The Portuguese king accepted. The English army came here and joined the Portuguese army to win over Napoleon. ONLY ON 3RD INVASION DID England come to help, because England alone could face Napoleon’s  army.

This was bad for us too, because Portuguese noble families gave the best Portuguese houses to receive the English generals and other English men from the Army after having defeated Napoleon. But Portuguese people were exploited by English, some important Portuguese men were killed by English and my people needed to revolt to send the English people out of here, asking the king to come back to Lisbon

All this was so very good for BRAZIL, BECAUSE the evolution was so great, because of the Royal family there were many important buildings, monuments, palaces were built, and it was D. Pedro IV OF Portugal and First Of Brazil who gave independence to Brazil and he was the First Emperor of Independent BRAZIL

These were bad times for us, and the Portuguese people confronted everything with so much courage as is the feature of my people since times immemorial.

The royal family was so much more intelligent to have gone to Brazil, it was a so much good, because it saved the Portuguese nation’s freedom, the only mistake was staying there for there for decades, this  was so bad for this country and so much good for Brazil, in this case, we never judge the King badly because for Brazil it was winning and we are proud of this.

Has any colonised country had such a good independence like BRAZIL? Take the case of the American continent; has any country had such good independence like Brazil? So much good really and we are proud of this. Pity is that the truth is hidden so many times...

 I think it’s an inferiority complex...probably because Portugal was a free country much earlier, with a great history than all of them. I don’t know..

When D. João and the Royal Family of Portugal fled to Brasil

 Napoleon the terror of Europe is pummelling the doors of Portugal, his army led by the great General Junot is fast approaching Portugal sometime in November of 1807.
What utter chaos on the Quay of Belem……

The Royal Family of Portugal waiting to flee, dread in their hearts for the tyrant of Europe – Napoleon.  Daughters separated from their parents, wives sometimes happy to see the last of their husbands. Nobles all waiting to board the ships, sometimes with just the clothes on their backs and sadly no money.

More than 700 carriages bring the Royal Family to the Quays of Belem, but did the Royals number 700? Of course not, the Royals were just a handful, as for the rest it is the Court, the flatterers, the maids in waiting, the hangers on……. Remember how Marie Antoinette could not keep her hairdresser behind when she was fleeing the guillotine? How the Royals loved all those fawners, the pomp and circumstance. Never mind who paid for their upkeep

D. João accompanied by D. Pedro Carlos, heir to the throne of Spain occupy the main ship, the Príncipe Real which will be their floating throne for the next three months. Dona Carlota Joaquina and her daughters, the next to arrive, board the Alfonso de Albuquerque; All of a sudden loud screaming and head banging can be heard, it is the Queen Mother, the Mad Queen Dona Maria the First who screams at the top of her voice Ai Jesus, Ai Jesus, she does not want to flee, she wants to stay in Portugal and fight Napoleon, brave lady.
The Royal Family penniless fleeing Portugal, no chance…… they had half the treasury of Portugal valued at nearly 80 million cruzados the other half, spent buying a Neutrality Pact with Napoleon. Around 10 million cruzados left for Junot’s occupation army, is Junot happy? No way, would you fight war for 10 million cruzados? He melts the silver from the churches and palaces, the money pays for the maintenance of the French troops in the war to follow. Thousands of Portuguese civilians and soldiers killed in this war.
Quo Vadis Royal D. João, King of Portugal?
To Brasil of course…..The land of sun, sand and cariocas. The best, the richest and the largest Colony Portugal has. In fact past years, Brasil has been supporting our extravagant style of living. So we need to be safe in Brasil and of course enjoy.
But aren’t you supposed to be with your people, in this hour of need, don’t they need your moral support in this terrible calamity?
D. João, stamps his fat little foot, he has put on so much of weight, just loves to eat. Pssst, he even carries roasted chickens in his pockets. Grubby clothes, of course they are oily, dirty and smell of rancid fat, but that doesn’t bother him, he gets clean when he bathes once a year.
Look here, I never wanted to be King, never, I just wanted to live my life peacefully and then the heir apparent my brother, D. Jose had to go and die of small pox all because my Mother , Queen Maria the First refused to let him be vaccinated. To make matters worse, my Mother goes mad. And now I am the King, surely you don’t expect me to confront and fight Napoleon? The very thought.
But D. João a similar fate had befallen another King , King George the VI from England too did not want to be a King when his brother abdicated to marry a divorcee, but he did become a King and a
good one too. When the Nazis knocked on his door, he did not flee to his Colonies and he could choose any part of the World, nearly three fourths of the world were his colonies. He stayed right there in London with his wife and daughters. His palace was bombed so many times….

So the Royal Family flees Lisbon, what utter confusion on the Quay of Belem, baggage piled high, precious books from Real Biblioteca, silver plundered from churches, water, bed linen everything left behind, everything forgotten in the hurry to get away, everything left on the quay. Everything borrowed for a price of course from the British Navy. Horror of horrors the ships were already overloaded, there was no technical support for such a long journey and those ships would take at least 3 months to cross the Atlantic. Without the aid from the British Navy the entire trip would have been a colossal disaster.

 Imagine no running water not even bathrooms, can you think of…….suspended on a platform miles above the sea. Underwear a thing of the past, a dream. Scurvy and other ills kill so many people aboard.  If all these horrors were not bad enough there is terrible infestation, hold your breath the stink is overpowering, of lice on board the Alfonso de Albuquerque. Now isn’t it where the Queen Carlota Joaquina and the princesses have been lodged? Yes it is. So the Royal ladies have to be shaved, completely shaved. A stubble starts  growing on those royal heads, just when the Princesses start thinking of some garçon hairstyles to set the fashion in Brasil, the Royal Physician put a stop to all those dreams the entire scalp, he said, had to be bathed in pork fat mixed with antiseptic powder. Need I say more? Carlota Joaquina hated Brasil with every fibre of her being.

And then finally on 22nd of January 1808 the battered ships after a horrendous journey of around three months touched Salvador.
Carlota Joaquina and the princesses out of sheer necessity had covered their much abused heads with mile high turbans, you know the  Erykah Badu style, the elite at Salvador the ladies said, Their Royal Highnesses have turbans must be the style in Lisbon. Imagine how Carlota Joaquina must have felt to see her style imitated by the local elite. Warmed the cockles of her heart, I am sure. If you are the conqueror you set the style, remember how in the heat of May in India, ladies wore nylon stockings for weddings!

References: Laurentino Gomes (A Fuga da Família Real para o Brasil)

and Anibal de Almeida Fernandes