O’Riley, Professor Mildred Riling, and Mrs. Helen Scroggins.

WADE BASKIN

Southeastern State College

I

When the bitter night of thought, study and theological ecstasy came to an end, my steadfast soul, tortured since nightfall by loneliness, sensed the approach of dawn and stirred uneasily. Without my noticing it, my lamp had gone out; my casement had opened to the dawn. I moistened my brow with the dew from the panes, and relegating to the past my spent revery, I gazed toward the dawn and ventured into the narrow vale of metempsychoses. *

Dawns! Dreams of memories of maritime wonders and oriental splendors which by night infused our wearisome study with longing for travel! Long had I wandered as if in a dream through a tragic valley, searching for exotic breezes and sounds, when finally I was overjoyed by the sight of towering rocks and a blue sea.

O sea eternal, I thought, shall we sail across these waves to our unknown destiny? Will our tender souls test their valor?

Awaiting me on the shore were my fellow pilgrims; I recognized them all but without knowing whether I had seen them somewhere before; our virtues were the same. The sun had already risen high above the sea. They had arrived at dawn and were watching the waves rise. I excused myself for being late; they forgave me, thinking that I had been detained along the way by certain dogmatic subtleties and scruples; then they reproached me for having reservations about consenting to come. As I was the last one and they were expecting no one else, we made our way toward the town with the great port where ships weigh anchor. Loud noises that emanated from there came to us on the shore.

The town that was to be our place of embarcation in the evening was vibrating from the sunshine, from loud noises and sounds of merry-making, from the white heat of high noon. The marbled quays burned our sandals; the festivities offered a medley of colors. Two ships had arrived the previous day, one from Norway and the other from the enchanting Antilles; and the crowd was hurrying to view the arrival of a third, a majestic ship, as it came into the port. It came from Syria, laden with slaves, nuggets, and bales of purple. There was much hurrying and scurrying on the deck; shouts of the crew were heard. From the top of the masts some sailors were loosening cords while others, near the waves, were throwing out ropes; the folds of flattened sails were hanging from the main yards, where oriflammes were displayed. The sea, on the shoreward side, was not deep enough to allow the ship to approach the quay; boats went out to the ship and first brought back the slaves; and as soon as they had been set ashore, the people scurried to see them; they were beautiful and almost naked, but sad. The sailors also placed perfumes and precious fabrics in the boats, but they cast into the sea the bales of purple; these were cheap goods; the waves carried them alongside dikes, where men were bending over with poles to guide them toward the stairway. From the Antilles had come rare weeds, variegated birds and shells that relayed the sound of the waves on these happy shores. There was haggling as they were auctioned off; the bazaars were cluttered with cages; some birds, more delicate than the others, were set loose in large cages; people paid to enter; all the birds sang, and merchants added to the confusion. Jugglers and mimics performed in improvised stalls. On a stage cavorting mountebanks tossed back and forth daggers and pennants.

Farther away were the town’s ice-houses which were supplied by the Norwegian vessels returning with their rimy cargos. Some cellars were very deep, but all had been replenished, and this ship was unloading its burden on the deck. A mountain was rising, green, diaphanous and cool; thirsty sailors were coming there to enjoy its shadow and to put their burning hands and lips against its moist exterior. Saffron-skinned men in blood-stained cotton breeches were still carrying loads of snow on sagging boards and chunks of pure ice that they had recovered from the sea; snow and pieces of ice were being cast overboard; snow, ice and foam were borne along with the purple on the blue water which turned almost violet as waves dissolved the purple.

And now came the evening; the crimson sun was hidden by the cordage; crepuscular sounds arose; and in the becalmed port rocked the fabulous vessel that was to bear us away! Then, since this day had given us a foretaste of all that the future held in store, we ceased to look back and turned our eyes to the future; and the extraordinary ship, leaving behind it the port, the fair and the sunken sun, plunged into the night toward dawn.

* The similarity between the opening paragraph of the allegory and the first scene in Faust is not surprising in view of the influence which Goethe exerted on Gide during the period of the composition of Urien’s Voyage. [All notes are by the translator unless otherwise specified.]

II

Night at sea. We have been discussing our destinies. The night is clear; the Orion is sailing between two islands. The moon lights the cliffs. Blue sharks have come into view: the night watch called attention to them and to some dolphins; they were playing in the moonlight; near the sharks, they submerged and did not reappear; blue rocks glow dimly beneath the waves. Luminous jellyfish rise slowly from the deep and blossom in the night air, tossed by the waves like sea-flowers. The stars are dreaming.