Reading Nijinsky. Hélène Rioux

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       Reading Nijinsky

       By the same author

      Suite pour un visage, Montréal, Éditions du Carré Saint-Louis, 1970.

      Finitudes, Montréal, Éditions d’Orphée, 1972.

      Yes, monsieur, Montréal, Éditions La Presse, 1973.

      Un sensà ma vie, Montréal, Éditions La Presse, 1975.

      J’elle, récit, Montréal, Éditions Stanké, 1979.

      Une histoire gitane, Montréal, Québec/Amérique, 1982.

      L’homme de Hong Kong, Montréal, Québec/Amérique, 1986.

      Les miroirs d’Étlé onore, Montréal, Éditions Lacombe (finalist for the Canada Council for the Arts Governor General’s Literary Awards and for the Grand Prix littéraire du Journal de Montréal), 1989.

      Chambre avec baignoire, Montréal, Québec/Amérique (Grand Prix littéraire du Journal de Montréal and Prix de la Société des écrivains canadiens), 1992; reprint: Montréal, XYZ éditeur, 2000.

      Penseà mon rendez-vous, Montréal, Québec/Amérique (finalist for the Canada Council for the Arts Governor General’s Literary Awards), 1994.

      Traductrice de sentiments, Montréal, XYZ éditeur, “Romanichels” collection, 1995.

      Le cimetiére desélé phants, Montréal, XYZ éditeur, “Romanichels” collection, 1998.

       Reading Nijinsky

       a novel by Hélène Rioux

       translated by

       Jonathan Kaplansky

      Originally published by XYZ éditeur as Traductrice de sentiments Copyright © 1995 Hélène Rioux and XYZ éditeur English translation © 2001 Jonathan Kaplansky and XYZ Publishing

      All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or stored in a retrieval system without the prior written consent of the publisher – or, in the case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a licence from Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency – is an infringement of the copyright law.

       Canadian Cataloguing in Publication Data

      Rioux, Hélène, 1949-

      [Traductrice de sentiments. English]

      Reading Nijinsky

      (Tidelines)

      Translation of: Traductrice de sentiments ISBN 0-9688166-5-7

      I. Kaplansky, Jonathan, 1960- . II. Title. III. Title: Traductrice de sentiments. English. IV. Series: Tidelines (Montréal, Quebec).

      PS8585.I46T7313 2001 C843’.54 C2001-940957-5

      PS9585.I46T7313 2001

      PQ3919.2.R56T7313 2001

      Legal Deposit: Fourth quarter 2001

      National Library of Canada

      Bibliothèque nationale du Québec

      XYZ Publishing acknowledges the financial support our publishing program receives from the Canada Council for the Arts, the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP) of the Department of Canadian Heritage, the ministère de la Culture et des Communications du Québec, and the Société de développement des entreprises culturelles.

      Layout: Édiscript enr.

      Cover design: Zirval Design

      Cover photo: Yves Gauthier

      Printed and bound in Canada

XYZ Publishing1781 Saint Hubert StreetMontreal, Quebec H2L 3Z1Tel: [phone]Fax: [phone]E-mail: [email protected] site: www.xyzedit.com

Distributed by:General Distribution Services325 Humber College BoulevardToronto, Ontario M9W 7C3Tel: [phone]Fax: [phone]E-mail: [email protected]

      For my children, in the hope that they never forget compassion… Hélène Rioux

      For Jessica Miller, who opened a door by encouraging me to translate. Jonathan Kaplansky

      Tears start to come again between me and my view of the world.

      Mitia

      I am a dancer.

      I believe that we learn by practice. Whether it means to learn to dance by practicing dancing or to learn to live by practicing living, the principles are the same. In each it is the performance of a dedicated precise set of acts, physical or intellectual, from which comes shape of achievement, a sense of one’s being, a satisfaction of spirit. One becomes in some area an athlete of God.

      Martha Graham, Blood Memory

       Chapter 1

      She does not think of death, because she does not want to die. I think of death, because I do not want to die.

      Nijinsky, Diary

      Mirabel. Dusk, the hour tinted with blue. Flashings in the fog. Crackling in the loudspeakers, unintelligible words, sepulchral voices. I look at my watch, but not impatiently. I have plenty of time.

      A sudden rumbling. The plane begins to move, taxis to the end of the runway. With what seems to be inordinate effort, it takes flight, rising, flying over the dozing city, cutting through the clouds. Very calm, almost impassive, I sit near a window in the smoking section. In the seat next to me, a woman fumbles in her purse for a candy. She is wearing a burgundy suit and taupecoloured hose. I don’t like the colour burgundy. It evokes something crushed. Like raspberries trodden upon in the grass of an underbrush, a puddle of regurgitated wine, a black and blue mark, coagulated blood. Bruised taupe. Same shade as the lacquered nails of this passenger. Everything is bruised. I hear the sound of cellophane being unwrapped, out of the corner of my eye see a candy disappear into her mouth.

      I am wearing blue jeans and a mohair sweater, soft and warm, with green and white stripes. My hands are empty. I don’t feel like reading a book. My eyes are tired, my head saturated. I just want to close everything tightly, my eyes, my head, my heart. In the seat pocket in front of me a woman’s magazine, so-called because of its advertisements for cosmetics, recipes, advice columns, fashion photos. I bought it at the newspaper stand in the airport. Simply turn the pages and a whole way of life jumps out at you. I will learn how to protect my skin from cancerous ultraviolet rays, how to behave with a hyperactive child, prepare an elegant brunch for two, six, or twelve guests. But I am going away alone. The cover, featuring an impeccably made-up pouting redhead, informs me that this special issue features the results of a survey on the sexual habits of forty-year-old women.

      In five years I will be forty. This doesn’t disturb me, but if they researched my sex life, I wonder what conclusions they would draw.

      I look at my neighbour. She must be about forty, in the prime of life. If I asked her questions… And you, ma’am, how many lovers do you have? Do you have a preferred position? How many times a week? A month? Which method of contraception do you use? How many abortions? What kind of orgasm? Do you believe in love?

      The emergency exits of the aircraft appear on the screens while a mellifluous male voice explains in Spanish and English how to inflate the life jackets should we fall into the middle of the Atlantic, how to use