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Editor's notes

Deep down in the Translation of a short story initially written in Portuguese and published in: Braga, Elda Firmo, Evely Libanori & Regina Schopke (ed.). Animais em Prosa e Verso. Uma escrita pela libertação animal. Rio de Janeiro: Oficina de Leitura., 2020.

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1From the corner of the street, the blue house emerged, impressive. Its construction was irremediably marked by the precise and beautiful lines of a harmonious architectural design. The events in the blue house were mixed with the stories of people and cats and also the occasional reports of dogs. When I look around the corner of the street, I see that only the cats survived as witnesses to human stories. In the end, everyone is absorbed by time, death and forgetfulness. Animals and people survive only by the force of the narrative. I remember the almost insignificant figure that led me to write this story. I was also told the story by the piercing eyes of the little dog Maru. I met Maru and Alice on my morning walks through the neighborhood, asleep under the gentle morning sun that timidly announce sunny mornings in Northeastern Brazil.

2The little dog Maru, of undefined breed, and the cats, had been rescued thanks to the poignant and misunderstood compassion of a tiny brown woman, whose definitive character traits I discovered many summers ago. Our neighborhood was almost a paradise, were it not for the countless skeletal cats and battered dogs that were abandoned in the public market.

3The Dantesque vision was complemented by the scandalous smell of blood from meat sacrificed and sold under human indifference and economic voracity. These facts were justified by the excuse of limitless human need. I do not know, for sure, how my late conscience was formed about these cynically ignored realities which forced my insignificant heroine to wage a lonely and desperate struggle against animal suffering, and which made me, forever, an anonymous adept of peaceful, generous and just causes. Only cats and the little Maru can prove the facts left untold. In addition to me, they became witnesses to the fact that I am going to narrate and that ended my encounters with my little heroine.

4Alice told me one day that “the few cats were rescued from hunger and mistreatment.” They are not far from the sufferings that ducks, chickens, cows, calves, birds and innocent beasts experience. These crimes are justified by a limitless human necessity. Others are killed by environmental degradation and destruction of their habitats.

5- How not to revolt with this horror? How can we not suffer or feel this cosmic and infinite sadness, Matilde? Alice asked me.

6- How to be happy in the face of so much unhappiness?

7I didn't know what to say. I only listened, watching, from the end of the street, the indifferent passers-by in their routines.

8- I am ashamed to be human, Matilde, to be part of this human conspiracy and this painless and cynical evil caused to non-humans. When we eat them, we are complicit of their suffering. Either human beings are reconciled to non-humans, recognizing their suffering, or we can never live in harmony with ourselves.

9- “When we depreciate animals and treat them as objects or when we are indifferent to their suffering—she was quoting a philosopher—we behave with a despotism that no religion can justify without falling into contradiction and confusing the human administration of the servant with the right to dominate it without being accountable to you.”

10And she continued with wet eyes as if she was talking to an audience:

11- When we silence the voice of godliness, we silence a part of ourselves. This kind of piety that we live in revolts me. It is, in fact, an innate disgust in front of the suffering of any sensitive being.

12- If we remain inert and indifferent to the suffering of animals that share the condition of sensitive beings with us, we dehumanize ourselves.

13Alice said those latter words through clenched teeth and eyes almost in tears. In silence, I fed my day by revealing that unchallenged truth.

14A constant stirring has washed over me since then. After that last conversation with Alice, a world of sadness and misfortune has appeared before my eyes. Large-scale animal exploitation has given no respite to non-humans. The scenes in which they appear enslaved, tortured, hungry and sick, demand continuous action. Every time we leave the house or look at our doors, suffering flourishes. I didn't know where to start acting, but the cases sprang up in front of me. The rainy season arrived, causing new reflections for me and, finally, I understood that non-humans are moral subjects and that we must take into account what they have to communicate and teach us.

15Forced by life’s contingencies, I left without saying goodbye to Alice and Maru. At that time, I was still unaware of the strength that my name held. When I returned, the blue house had been repainted, but I was told that Alice no longer lived in the blue house, and only the cats and the little dog Maru were still waiting for her.

16I glimpsed, with sadness, the separation of the best friends. The little dog Maru had aged and was no longer led by Alice. Maru showed signs of joy when she saw me and reminded me of our morning walks. I asked Maru about Alice, and she licked my hands as if she thanked me for the question.

17Night fell on the blue house and the last rays of the afternoon bid farewell to the world. I imagined that Maru, despite her old age, still had the strength to wait for Alice. After all, I too had aged.

18I looked from the same corner where we used to talk, and few people were in the darkened street. As I looked at the blue house, a strange glow appeared over it, illuminating the entire upper balcony. I took my last generation cell phone out of my pocket, in a vain effort to document the apparition. Strangely, the cell phone lens did not testify to that vision.

19I returned home confused, trying to understand, by elimination, the nature of the flash, which was not a reflection of any known element that could explain what happened. After five minutes, perhaps, the flash disappeared almost instantly. I looked for witnesses in the street, but it was deserted. I imagined that only Maru and the cats saw, as I did, what happened, as they were in the garden enjoying the cool night. I got home, opened the bedroom window that faced the opposite side of the house. I looked at the mirror before I undressed for the bath. I shuddered. My face was not the same. The firm, clean colour of Alice's dark face was on mine. I was still Matilde, but I was also Alice.

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References

Bibliographical reference

Zélia Bora, The Blue House and the Heavenly LightCaliban, 64 | 2020, 373-375.

Electronic reference

Zélia Bora, The Blue House and the Heavenly LightCaliban [Online], 64 | 2020, Online since 30 July 2021, connection on 19 April 2024. URL: http://journals.openedition.org/caliban/9414; DOI: https://doi.org/10.4000/caliban.9414

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About the author

Zélia Bora

Ph.D. in Portuguese and Brazilian Studies. Retired Professor at Federal University of Paraiba, Brazil

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Copyright

CC-BY-NC-ND-4.0

The text only may be used under licence CC BY-NC-ND 4.0. All other elements (illustrations, imported files) are “All rights reserved”, unless otherwise stated.

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