octipus rex 14

(From Vaclav's Journal)
this weekend everyone stayed on the thirteenth floor of the Hotel Nicholas.
at times Herbert has been illogical concerning travel. he absolutely had to go to Edinburgh to have his hair cut at the Blue Ginger, because it costs less there than it does in Our City. perhaps he wanted to have a reason for this trip other than simply visiting the city.
when Martin and I were eating lunch Gainesborough came in and said that he had proclaimed the Don Juan of the kangaroo rats. his official title is now Tsar Gainesborough the Three Hundred Fifty-Second the Don Juan. he was telling everyone to make it official.
for lunch I ate a barbecued mouse and drank some cream, and Martin ate a salad of catnip, mushrooms, boiled frog eggs and drank catnip tea. after we finished eating Raymond came in, put a recording of Satie's Three Pieces in the Shape of a Pear on my turntable and started dancing.
later in the afternoon I was going to play among the catnip,but when I stepped outside of Herbert and Martin's room there was a battle taking place between the penguins and the kangaroo rats. (I wonder if Herbert will enjoy eating Gainesborough's legs at breakfast.) one of the penguins had said, "Gainesborough the Don Juan should be called Gainesborough the Impotent, but, then again, are not all kangaroo rats impotent?" one should never insult the ability of kangaroo rats to perform sexually, especially when one is in the presence of a kangaroo rat. i decided to wait until later to play among the catnip.
Herbert came in at the regular time, 15:17, he said that an article that he had written on Robbe-Grillet's writing was going to be published in an italian magazine. the article is on subjective description in Robbe-Grillet's writing. Herbert and Martin celebrated by drinking a fig liqueur that Francesca had made and Herbert gave me some cream from the Beaulieu farm, from this farm comes the richest cream of the continent.
i later went to play among the catnip, all was quiet in the corridor, visions came to me of drinking the world's richest cream while floating on a barge on the Nile while being fanned with fans of ostrich feathers.
Martin awoke me and apologized for doing so, he said that Herbert was not pleased that it was past tea time and tea had not yet been served.
they had finished drinking their tea and were discussing the unfortunate fact that many of the writers of this century are being ignored by the universities when we heard the foghorn and Raymond yelling, "where is the octipus rex?" Martin and Herbert then went to join Joy and Andre-Richard for dinner. Martin, when leaving, said that too many university students were not familiar with Günter Grass, Alain Robbe-Grillet, Eugène Ionesco, Ana María Moix and many other of this century's writers.
for dinner I ate frog legs and drank some more of the Beaulieu cream. Aleksandr joined me for this meal, he ate some gouda cheese, he returned the copy of La nausée that he had borrowed. I went to sleep after reading for several hours.
yesterday I awoke to find that a plate of shrimp and a cup of cream has been on the nightstand by my bed. with this there was a note that said "happy bartok's birthday! with love, h. and m." it has been a long time since I have eaten shrimp and I love shrimp.
all afternoon I listened to several of Bartók's orchestral pieces. Andre-Richard had engaged the Guarneri String Quartet to play Bartók's third, fourth and fifth string quartets. they performed splendidly in spite of the looks of confusion on their faces.
this was a formal affair, so I wore my white bow tie, Joy wore a crimson velvet evening dress and had her hair braided with a ribbon of the same material as her dress. Martin wore a black tuxedo with a red shirt and black tie. Herbert wore a white tuxedo with a black shirt and white tie. Andre wore his formal dancing belt, burgundy ruffled t-shirt and gold vest. we dined on lobster and drank a splendid hungarian wine.
after reading The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas by Gertrude Stein I went to sleep.
this morning I was awakened by Aleksandr who said that he was lonely. he had tried to live completely alone but found that he could not do so.
for kunch I drank whale milk and Aleksandr ate some roquefort cheese that he had gotten from the hotel kitchen, he said that it had not been easy to carry the cheese up to the thirteenth floor, expecially since he had to use a paper clip to make miniature mountain-climbing equipment.
after lunch I listened to Rimnsky-Korsakov's opera May Night.
Herbert and Martin came in at tea time. Herbert played his violin as I made tea and Matin reclined in an armchair.
after drinking the tea I started reading and read until a short time ago when I started writing in my journal.
I can hear Herbert, Martin, Joy and Andre-Richard gathering in Martin and Herbert's room for the traditional seven minutes of mourning for the dead weekend.