"Philip Jose Farmer - A Feast Unknown" - читать интересную книгу автора (Farmer Phillip Jose)

The strange thing, to me, anyway, was that this was the first time my uncle had seen any of his wife’s
body below the shoulders.
Although they had been married for a month, the two had not had any sexual intercourse beyond
some kissing and slipping his hand, down her bodice and over her breasts. The day of the wedding, she had
begun menstruating and would not stop. He, being a Victorian, could not bed her while she was “unclean.”
(Although there were plenty of Victorians who would have done so.)
The day before John broke loose from the cell, Alexandra had ceased to flow. My uncle (as recorded
in his diary) was ecstatic. He could quit masturbating now and could stop eyeing his wife’s maid.
Then my father-to-be got out of his cell in the north tower of the half-ruined Castle of Grandrith. He
and his wife were too upset for some time to consider sexual intercourse. At least, she was.
Now, in the London fog, James Cloamby pulled his wife’s skirts down and revived her. She became
hysterical, and not until the next day did he discover that his brother had attacked his wife.
His wife seemed to recover. A few months afterward, they sailed for West Africa, where James was
to conduct a secret investigation for the Colonial Office. (This was not the investigation which my
“biographer” described, however. He knew the true reason, but he chose to give a spurious one.)
Alexandra now refused to have intercourse with James. She said that she was too “ashamed,” felt “too
unclean,” and, besides, wanted to make certain that she was or was not pregnant. If she was to have a
child, she wanted to be certain of its paternity.
Before they sailed, the first known murder by Jack the Ripper occurred on Easter Tuesday, April 3rd,
1888, on Osborn Street. My uncle heard about this (it was not reported in the Times) and wondered in his
diary if it could be the work of his brother. Later, he was certain that it was. Yet, so great was his dread of
the shame and disgrace if John should be caught, he did not inform the police.
He did continue the search on his own through private detectives. When he sailed for Africa, he sent
an anonymous note to the police, describing his brother but not naming him. This note is not in the
official records. Research has convinced me that it was suppressed by politically powerful influences.
My father disappeared when Jack the Ripper disappeared. It was not until 1968, the year of this
narrative, that I found out what had happened to him.
Alexandra Grandrith was finally able to accept her husband in bed. But by then she was too big with
child. My uncle continued to suffer and then backslid, as he put it, to masturbation and, once, a few days
before sailing, to the maid. These necessary discharges caused much breast beating in private and many
mea culpas.
The events that led to the Grandriths being stranded on the West African coast are familiar to the
readers of my “biographer.” The reality was somewhat different, but the result was much as depicted in
the romances based on my life. James Cloamby built a strong house on the shore near the jungle, and they
survived the first 20 months.
I was born November 21, 1888, at 11:45 p.m.
My mother’s mind was never thereafter quite in Africa. She spent most of her time in a dream
England, a country much better than the one she knew in reality, I’m sure. Despite this, she was very


file:///G|/rah/Philip%20Jose%20Farmer%20-%20A%20Feast%20Unknown.html (4 of 110) [2/17/2004 11:18:00 AM]
 A Feast Unknown

competent in taking care of me, if I am to believe my uncle’s diary. James could not make love to her then
because it would have been too much like taking advantage of an idiot. So my poor uncle suffered, and I
think he may have been glad when death came at the hands of the chief of a tribe of The Folk. Any horror
he felt would have been for his nephew, a 12-month-old baby crying for food and for his mother’s milk.
I was to get no more of that because she had died in her sleep a few hours before my uncle was killed.
I did get a mother’s milk, though it was not quite human milk.