NICOLAS KLIM’S UNDERGROUND JOURNEY
by Ludvig Holbergtranslation © Dennis List, 2003
CHAPTER 11: PART I
In which the Author is promoted to Captain's wig-dresser, and visits the lands of the magpies, of the double-basses, of people without mouths, and of people made of ice.
The Author’s Voyage to the Land of Wonders
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Before I describe this voyage, I must warn the critical reader not to be upset by details that at first seem too fantastic to be true. I'll be describing things that are quite incredible, but they are certainly true: I saw them with my own eyes. Illiterate people who have never stepped foot outside their own country are inclined to disbelieve anything that they haven't known since their infancy. But those who are truly educated, knowing the variety of Nature, will look more judiciously on my story.
Quis tumidum guttur miratur in Alpibus? [12 lines - Pliny 1?]
It's now well known that there were people from Scythia, called Arimaspians, who had only a single eye in the centre for the forehead - and others from the same part of the world had their feet on backwards, compared to us. We read of Albanians who were grey-headed from childhood. The Sauromatians ate only once in three days, fasting on the days in between. And in Africa, certain families could bewitch people with the sound of their voices. The Illyrians, with two pupils in each eye, when provoked could stare their enemies to death. In the mountains of India are some men with dogs' heads, who speak by barking like dogs. Others have eyes in their shoulders. And in the remotest parts of India, animals have been found that resemble men, with hairy bodies and wings like birds. They never eat, but live on the scent of flowers, which they inhale through their nostrils.
I ask you: if that serious author Pliny had not solemnly affirmed that he had seen such things himself, who would have believed them true? In the same way, who would have believed that the Earth was hollow, containing another sun and other planets - had my own experience not cleared up this mystery? And who would have believed an account of another world, inhabited by rational trees that could move themselves, if my own account had not proved their existence beyond reasonable doubt? However, I shan't condemn anybody who disputes such notions, since before I set out on this voyage, I suspected that travellers' tales were nothing more than fables and amusements.
We set sail at the beginning of the month of Radir...
"Vela damus, vastumque cava trabe currimus aequor."
For several days we had a following wind, and with no need to use our oars, we were free to amuse ourselves. But on th fourth day
"Vela cadunt, remis insurgunt, haud mora, nautae,
Adnixi torquent spumas, et coerula verrunt."The Captain noticed that I was unused to such hard labour, and not fit to bear it. So he often allowed me to rest for a while, and finally he totally freed me from rowing. Whether he thought me innocent (and therefore showed much kindness) or whether he thought me worthy of better treatment because I was the inventor of the wig, I'm not sure. I must say, though, that he carried three wigs with him on this voyage, and I was put in charge of combing and buckling them. So suddenly I was raised from the indignity of being a galley slave to the honour of being the Director of the Captain's Wigs. I was quite happy with this arrangement, which gave me a chance to satisfy my curiosity.
We held our course for some days without seeing anything unusual, but after losing sight of land we found ourselves surrounded by Sirens. When the wind fell, and the sea became calm, they would swim to the ship and beg of us...
"Prima hominis facies, et pulcro corpore virgo
Pube tenus, postrema immani corpore Pristis."Their language resembled Martinian, and some of our crew were able to speak to them without needing an interpreter. After I had given one of these Sirens a piece of meat, she fixed her eyes on me and declared "Push on, my hero, some day you will rule the world."
I smiled at such flattery, but my fellow sailors assured me that Sirens' predictions were never wrong.
After sailing for about eight days, we saw land, that the sailors called Picardania. While entering the harbour, we saw a magpie flying above us. I was told that he was the Inspector-General of Customs. a very important person. I could hardly stop laughing when told that such an important position was entrusted to a magpie.
"Per liquidum sublimibus aera pennis
Currere, et aethereo corpus librare volatu."From the appearance of this chief, I guessed that the wharf-hands must be flies, and the customs officers must be spiders.
After the magpie had flown around the ship several times, he flew back to shore, later returning with three other magpies, and landing on the forecastle. I was ready to burst out laughing when I saw one of our interpreters approach these birds with great respect, and begin a long conversation with them. They had come to inspect the merchandise we had on board, as it was their business to find out whether we carried any contraband goods, particularly the herb they called Slac.
It's common for these creatures to search every corner of a ship, unpacking every bale of goods, to see if they can find any of this herb - the importation of which is forbidden by law, under pain of a very severe penalty. The inhabitants here will barter the necessities of life for this herb. The plants that grow in Picardania, though every bit as good as this, are not held in nearly such high respect. In this way, the Picardanians resemble the Europeans, who often like a thing only because it grows in a foreign soil and has come from a distant country.
After a long conference with our interpreters, the Inspector-General went down into the hold with his companions. Soon after that, he returned with an angry face, declaring that he forbade us to trade with the Picardanians because we had acted contrary to their treaties, bringing prohibited goods. But our captain knew how to appease the anger: he presented the Inspector-General with a few pounds of Slac - upon which his anger subsided and he allowed us to unload our cargo.
As soon as this was done, a huge flock of magpies came fluttering above us. They were all merchants, and they had come to do business. The captain, intending to go ashore, asked me and several others to accompany him. Thus four of us left the ship: the captain, myself, and two other monkeys: our cargo superintendent and interpreter. The Inspector-General had invited us to dinner. As the people here use neither tables nor chairs, the table cloth was laid on the middle of the floor.
A magnificent meal was served, in very small dishes. As the kitchen was at the top of the house, each dish was flown down by two pairs of magpies, supporting it by their beaks.
After dinner, the Inspector-General took us to see his library. He had a huge collection of books, but all very small: the largest of them was the size of one of our primers. I had to laugh when I saw the librarian fly up to the top shelves to fetch down some of the octavos and duodecimos.
The Picardanian houses are not very different from ours, in building style and arrangement of rooms - but the bedrooms are suspended below the roof, like birds' nests. You may wonder, how is it possible for magpies (the minor gentry of birds) to build such magnificent houses? But this was obvious from a house then under construction. Several thousand labourers were working on it at once. What they lacked in strength they made up in numbers, and the agility with which they flew about their work. In this way, they can finish a house almost as quickly as our bricklayers can.
The Inspector's wife did not join us at the table, because she was lying in. The mothers here never go out when their children are babies, but as soon as they gain their feathers, the husband allows the woman to go out.
We did not stay long in this country, so I cannot say anything about its government, or the customs of the people. Everything was in great confusion at the time, on account of a war that had just broken out between the magpies and their neighbours the thrushes. The day after our arrival, news was brought that a great air battle had been fought, and the magpies had been totally defeated. The General was later tried by court martial, and sentenced to have his wings clipped. This is a very serious punishment in this country, almost the same as is inflicted for capital offences.
After we had unloaded the cargo, we set sail again. Not far from the shore, we saw great quantities of feathers floating on the water, and guessed that this was the spot where the recent battle had been fought.
After a speedy voyage, that lasted only three days, we arrived on the coast of the Land of Music. After anchoring, we went ashore, led by an interpreter who carried a double bass. This ceremony seemed ridiculous to me: I couldn't work out why he lumbered himself with such a useless burden.
As the coast seemed to be deserted, with no sign of any living creature, our captain ordered our interpreter to announce our arrival by playing a march. On hearing this, about 30 musical instruments came towards us: basses, each hopping on one leg. I'd never seen anything so amazing: at first I thought it was some kind of magic.
These basses were the inhabitants of the country. Their necks were very long, and their heads were small. Their bodies were slender, covered with smooth bark or rind, in such a way that a large gap was left between the rind and the body itself. A little above the navel, nature had placed a kind of bridge, with four strings. As the whole body rested on a single foot, they moved with a hopping motion, which they performed with a wonderful agility. In short, they were so similar to real basses that you might have mistaken them for those - except for one thing: their hands and arms were exactly like our own. They used one hand to hold the bow, and the other to stop the strings.
Our interpreter began the conversation by taking the bass he had brought with him, and playing a slow tune...
"Sustinet a laeva, tunuit manus altera plectrum,
Artificis status ipse fuit: tum stamina docto
Pollice sollicitans."Soon afterwards, an answer came back, in the same tune. So they continued, singing their thoughts to each other for some considerable time. Their conversation began with a quite harmonious Adagio, but it soon turned to discords that grated the ear. The conversation ended with a delightfully harmonious Presto.
On hearing the latter, our men were very pleased. It was a sign, they told me, that the price of our cargo had been agreed.
I was told afterwards that the slow music in the beginning was a Prelude to the conversation, consisting of mutual compliments by both sides. When we heard the discords they were disputing the price of our commodities, while the concluding Presto meant that the business was satisfactorily concluded.
Then we unloaded the ship. The commodity in greatest demand here is rosin. With this, the instruments rub their bows: their instruments of speech. Those convicted of serious crimes in this country are sentenced by the judges to be deprived of their bows. Continued loss of the bow is equivalent to capital punishment among humans.
While I was staying there, I found out that there was to be a final hearing of a lawsuit, and my curiosity prompted me to see their musical legal proceedings. The counsel, instead of making a speech, moved their bows, each playing a different tune. Throughout the pleadings, I could distinguish nothing but jarring and unpleasant sounds. All the eloquence of the Bar lies in the loudness of their notes and the speed of their hands.
At the end of the hearing, the judge rose slowly from the bench and gave the court an Adagio: the same thing as pronouncing sentence. As soon as this finished, the executioners approached the criminal, to take away his bow.
The boys in this country resemble a viola. They are not allowed to handle a bow until they are three years old. In their fourth year, they are sent to school to learn their scales - just as the alphabet is taught in Europe. They are kept under the discipline of the baton until they are able to play completely in tune, and to give their instruments a clear and distinct expression. We were often bothered by these boys during our stay here: they were continually teasing us with their scraping. Our interpreter, who himself had a very good hand, and understood the language perfectly, told us that the only meaning of their music was to beg a little rosin from us. They begged in a whining Adagio, but as soon as they had what they wanted they changed to a Presto: their expression of thanks. A rejection at any time, though, would spoil all their music.
Having completed our business, we left this country in the month of Cusan. After a few days' voyage we saw another coast. From its fetid smell, our crew guessed that it was Pyglossia. The inhabitants of this country are very like humans, except for one thing: they have no mouths. This forces them to "speak from the rear" - if I may use that phrase. The first person who came aboard our ship was a wealthy merchant. He civilly saluted us from behind, according to the custom of that country, then began to discuss the price of our goods.
To my great misfortune, the ship's barber was ill at that time, so I had to make use of a Pyglossian barber. People of this profession are even more talkative - if that is possible - than are barbers in Europe. While he was shaving me, he left such a horrid smell behind him in the cabin that we had to burn great quantities of incense to sweeten the air after his departure. The chief export of Martinia to this country is rose-water, and various spices and perfumes.
By now I was so used to seeing strange things, contrary to the usual course of nature, that nothing surprised me any more.
Because the Pyglossians' conversation was so offensive, we wanted to leave as soon as possible. After being invited to supper by one of the most notable inhabitants, we hastened our departure even more. Nobody would accept this invitation unless total silence was observed during the meal. As we left the harbour, a crowd of Pyglossians stood on the shore to farewell us - but as the wind blew directly from the land, we nodded our heads and waved our hands to let them know that we would excuse their compliments. On this occasion, I couldn't help reflecting how troublesome people could be when they were trying to be agreeable.
[paragraph 21 - omitted in 1742 edition?]
From there we set sail for Glacia, the most deserted and inhospitable country that my eyes ever saw. Hardly anything can be seen but mountains perpetually covered with snow. The inhabitants, who are all made of ice, are scattered around the hilltops, in places where the sun never shines. Everything between the summits of the mountains is covered in eternal frost. For this reason it is always dark here - or if there is any light, it comes only from the glittering of the hoar-frost. But the valleys that lie between these mountains are (just as miraculously) scorched with heat, and burned by the fiery vapours of the atmosphere.
So the Glacians never venture down into the valleys, except when the weather is hazy, or the sky is overcast. As soon as they detect the least glimmering of the sun's rays, they either rush back to the mountains, or into a cave. Often, while the inhabitants are on the roads to these valleys, they melt, or encounter some other misfortune. The great heat in these valleys gives them a ready method of punishing criminals. On the first cloudy day, the executioners take the criminals down into a valley, and tie them to a stake. There they leave them exposed to the burning rays of the sun, which soon dissolves them.
The country produces all kinds of minerals, except gold. These minerals are bought by foreign merchants, in the crude state in which they are dug from the earth. Because the natives cannot bear fire, they do not know the art of smelting or metal-working. It is said that the trade with Glacia is the most profitable of any in these parts.
All the countries that I have been describing are subject to the great Emperor of Mezendaria. For that reason (and some others, not mentioned), these countries are called the Mezendores, or Mezendorian Islands. That spacious and extraordinary empire was both the purpose and the centre of our voyage.