I cosmonauti di Umberto Eco

 

 

C’era una volta la terra. E c’era una volta Marte. 

Stavano molto distanti l’uno dall’altra, in mezzo al cielo e intorno c’erano milioni di pianeti e di galassie. Gli uomini che stavano sulla terra volevano raggiungere Marte e gli altri pianeti: ma erano così lontani!Comunquesi misero d’impegno. Primalanciaronodei satelliti che giravano intorno alla Terra per due giorni e poitornavano giù.Poi lanciavano dei razzi che facevano alcuni giri intorno alla Terra, ma invece ditornare giù, alla fine sfuggivano all’attrazione terrestre e partivano per lo spazio infinito.Dapprimanei razzi misero dei cani: ma i cani non sapevano parlare, e attraverso la radio trasmettevano solo «bau bau».Il cosmonauta sichiamava così perchépartiva ad esplorare il cosmo: e cioè lo spazio infinito coi pianeti, le galassie e tutto quello che ci sta intorno.Un bel mattino partirono dalla terra tre razzi.Sul primo c’era un americano che fischiettavatutto allegro un motivettojazz. Sul secondo c’era un russo che cantava con voce profonda «Volga, Volga». Sul terzo c’era un cinese che cantava una bellissima canzone, che agli altri due sembrava stonataTutti e tre volevano arrivare primi su Marte per mostrare chi era il più bravo.L’americano infatti non amava il russo e il russo non amava l’americano, e il cinese diffidavadi tutti e due.E questo perché l’americano per dire “buongiorno” diceva «how do you do»Il russo diceva: «3APABCTBYNTE». E il cinese diceva: «YJYJY!». Cosìnon si capivano e si credevano diversi.Siccometutti e tre erano bravi, arrivarono su Marte quasi nello stesso momento.Sceserodalle loro astronavi col cascoe la tuta spaziale... Trovarono un paesaggio meraviglioso e inquietante: il terreno era solcatoda lunghi canali pieni d’acqua color verde smeraldo. C’erano strani alberi blu con uccelli mai visti, dalle piumedi colore stranissimo. All’orizzonte si vedevano montagne rosse che mandavano strani bagliori.I cosmonauti guardarono il paesaggio e si guardarono l’un l’altro, e se ne stavano ciascuno in disparte, diffidando l’uno dell’altro.Poiè scesa la notte. C’era intorno uno strano silenzio, e la Terra brillava nel cielo come una stella lontana.I cosmonauti si sentivano tristi e sperduti e l’americano, nel buio, chiamò la mamma.

2Disse: «Mommy»...E il russo: «Mama.» E il cinese: «Ma-Ma.»Ma capirono subito che stavano dicendo la stessa cosa e provavano gli stessi sentimenti. Così sorrisero, si avvicinarono, accesero insieme un bel fuoco e ciascuno cantò le canzoni del suo paese. Allora si fecero coraggio e, attendendo il mattino impararono a conoscersi.Poi arrivò il mattino: faceva molto freddo. E improvvisamente da un ciuffod’alberi uscì un marziano. A vederlo era davvero orribile! Era tutto verde, aveva due antenne al posto delle orecchie, una proboscidee sei braccia.Li guardò e disse: «GRRRR!» Nella sua lingua voleva dire: «Mamma mia, chi sono quegli esseri orribili?!»Ma i terrestri non lo capirono e erano sicuri che il suo era un ruggitodi guerra. Era così diverso da loro che non erano capacidi capirlo e di amarlo. Si sentirono subito d’accordo e si schieraronocontro di lui.Di fronte aquel mostrole piccole differenze scomparivano. Che importavase parlavano un linguaggiodiverso? Capirono che erano tutti e tre esseri umani.L’altro no. Era troppo brutto e i terrestri pensavano che chi è brutto è anche cattivo.Cosìdecisero di ucciderlo con i loro disintegratoriatomici.Ma improvvisamente, nel gelodel mattino, un uccellinomarziano che era evidentemente fuggitodal nido, cadde al suolotremando di paura.Pigolavadisperato, più o meno come un uccellino terrestre. Facevadavvero pena.L’americano, il russo e il cinese lo guardarono e non seppero trattenere una lacrimadi compassione. E a quel puntoaccadde un fatto strano. Anche il marziano si avvicinò all’uccellino, lo guardò e lasciò sfuggire due filidi fumo dalla proboscide. E i terrestri, di colpo, compresero che il marziano stava piangendo. A modo suo, come fanno i marziani.Poi videro che si chinavasull’uccellino e lo sollevavatra le sue sei braccia cercando di scaldarlo.Il cinese si volsealloraai due amici terrestri “Avete capito?” disse: “noi credevamo che questo mostro fosse diverso da noi, e inveceanche lui ama gli animali, sa commuoversi, ha un cuore e certamente anche un cervello! Credete che sia ancora il caso di ucciderlo”?Non era neppure una domandada farsi. I terrestri avevano ormai capito la lezione: non bastache due creature siano diverse perché debbano essere nemiche.Perciòsi avvicinarono al marziano e gli tesero la mano.Ed egli, che ne aveva sei, strinsein una volta sola la mano a tutti e tre, mentre con quelle libere faceva gestidi saluto.E additandola terra lassùnel cielo, fece capire che desiderava farsi un viaggio, per conoscere gli altri abitanti e studiare insieme a loro il modo di fondareuna grande repubblica spaziale in cui tutti andassero d’amoree d’accordo.I terrestri dissero di sì tutti contentiE per festeggiarel’avvenimentogli offrirono una bottigliettadi acqua freschissima portata dalla terra. Il marziano tutto felice infilòil naso nella bottiglia, aspirò, e poi disse che quella bevandagli piaceva molto, anche se gli faceva girare un po’ la testa. Ma ormaii terrestri non si stupivanopi

Avevano capito che sulla Terra, come su gli altri pianeti, ciascunoha i propri gusti, ma è solo una questione di capirsi a vicenda.

 

Umberto Eco, I tre cosmonauti

Les voyages temporels de Jacques Rigaut alias Palentête

 

Un brillant sujet

Roman

à André Breton.

Un mobile animé d’une vitesse telle qu’il fait, selon le plan de l’Équateur et dans le sens inverse à celui de la rotation de la terre, une fois le tour de cette sphère, pendant que celle-ci se serait déplacée d’une quantité négligeable, se conçoit. Avec quelques figures et une bonne réputation, il n’est pas plus difficile de représenter le temps comme une spirale que le temps absolu ou la marche du temps, et un mobile parti d’un point à midi, passerait par 6, 0, 18 heures, et arriverait au midi du jour précédent, — et la suite.

Un ingénieur divorcé construit un appareil en forme d’œuf géant, qui, par des différences de température obtenues par l’électricité et sans influencer la température de la cellule ménagée à l’intérieur de cet œuf, est propre à remonter le courant du temps. Une inquiétude subsiste : on craint que le voyageur ne rajeunisse au cours de son expédition, on craint de trouver à la première station, un nourrisson, ou, si le voyage se prolonge, le père et la mère du voyageur, et peut-être toute son ascendance comprimée dans l’appareil.

Un jeune homme sentimental — soit Palentête — veut profiter de cette invention pour refaire sa vie. Il se propose de retrouver, sept ans en arrière, une maîtresse perdue, et de recommencer cette expérience autant de fois qu’il le faudra pour obtenir un amour réussi.

Départ de Palentête, arrivée de Palentête. Il pénètre dans l’appartement de sa maîtresse : « Moi prime ! s’écrie-t-il en se trouvant en présence d’un Palentête âgé de 20 ans, couché dans le lit de sa maîtresse. J’avais imparfaitement prévu l’intégralité du passé. Je suppose qu’en emmenant le Palentête, ici présent avec moi dans mon œuf, et qu’en faisant une station chaque année, je pourrai me recueillir à mes différents âges, et me confronter dans une même pièce avec une vingtaine de mes exemplaires de toutes les tailles ».

Rivalité de Palentête et de Palentête. Palentête, fort de la connaissance de ce qui va se passer, supplante Palentête. Désespéré, Palentête menace de se suicider. Effroi de Palentête qui redoute que ce suicide n’entraîne sa mort ; il cède la place à Palentête et remonte dans son appareil.

Désireux de se dégourdir les Jambes, Palentête s’arrête 23 ans en arrière, dans le même pays. Divers incestes sont consommés. Palentête a quelques raisons de croire qu’il est son propre père.

« Napoléon, Hannibal, les Pyramides ! Zut ! Passons au déluge ! » articule Palentête en s’appliquant sur la poitrine une machine à enregistrer les battements du cœur, afin de rester capable d’évaluer son âge. Palentête part à la découverte de la Genèse.

Incertain de rencontrer Dieu et impuissant à modifier un passé dont il est issu, Palentête s’applique à en créer de nouvelles versions, juste de quoi déconcerter ceux des hommes de son époque qui s’aventureraient à sa suite dans le passé et qui risquent de ne plus rien y rencontrer de conforme à l’histoire :

A la fin du règne d’Auguste, Palentête, après avoir parcouru six mois la province de Judée, découvre un enfant, Jésus de Nazareth, endormi sous un olivier ; il lui injecte du cyanure de potasse dans les veines.

Quelques années plus loin, il guette, pendant ses promenades, une fillette d’Égypte ; un jour qu’il l’aperçoit seule, il se jette sur elle et, avec sa pince à gaz, il lui mutile le nez. Cette fillette s’appelait Cléopâtre.

Faisant halte dans l’Amérique du sud, Palentête découvre à des hommes rouges l’usage de la vapeur et de l’électricité. On l’honore comme une divinité ; sur sa demande, on lui livre chaque mois 50 filles et 50 garçons.

Palentête enseigne dans les 5 continents le dogme du suicide obligatoire à 20 ans.

Palentête dépose entre les mains d’Homère la deuxième Aventure céleste de Monsieur Antipyrine de Tristan Tzara.

Palentête s’illustre par des prophéties sous différents noms : Ezéchiel, Jérémie, Isaïe.

(...) Ses conserves alimentaires sont épuisées, Palentête est obligé de s’arrêter fréquemment. II perd plusieurs mois à jouer la comédie de la divinité, pour se faire remettre des provisions. Une barbe blanche lui cache la poitrine. De vieillesse, Palentête meurt dans son œuf qui tourne encore.

Jacques RIGAUT.

 

 

Dis-Astronaute

 

“Disaster in space: an astronaut is dead. But is he dead? Closed in a perfect capsule, his body is intact. Is he alive? His voice is not heard by man, his thought is still. All that one knows is that his body -dead? alive?- turns in space around the earth at enormous speed. On a clear night, a luminous point crosses the sky from one horizon to the other. Sailors check their course against that point; on silent islands mothers show the miracle of something -a man- that moves amongst the stars and is distinguished from them by movement. He has a name. Russian? American? A common name, a sound like the sound of a star´s name, but a man´s name. Dead? Alive?

Perhaps we will never hear of such a things, perhaps a disaster in space will never occur. But what would occur if it should occur? Perhaps nothing more than what is written in this brief hypothetical account. Or perhaps everything in the world would change because man could not support the idea of a perfect cadaver or a live man without voice and without thought turning in space, beyond contact and beyond understanding. But how many perfect cadavers and live men without voice and without thought surround us every day on earth? Why must we await- and fear- a disaster in space, in order to become aware of our world?

Matta, 1966

Portrait de l´amas des os humains mis en comparaison de l´anatomie de ceux des oiseaux

 

 

 

Pierre Belon, Histoire de la nature des oyseaux, avec leurs descriptions et naïfs portraicts retirez du naturel de 1555

 

"Le corps de l’homme est toujours la moitié possible d’un atlas universel. On sait comment Pierre Belon a tracé, et jusque dans le détail, la première planche comparée du squelette humain et de celui des oiseaux : on y voit « l’aileron nommé appendix qui est en proportion en l’aile, au lieu du pouce en la main ; l’extrémité de l’aileron qui est comme les doigts en nous… ; l’os donné pour jambes aux oiseaux correspondant à notre talon ; tout ainsi qu’avons quatre orteils es pieds, ainsi les oiseaux ont quatre doigts desquels celui de derrière est donné en proportion comme le gros orteil en nous ». Tant de précision n’est anatomie comparée que pour un regard armé des connaissances du XIXe siècle. Il se trouve que la grille à travers laquelle nous laissons venir jusqu’à notre savoir les figures de la ressemblance, recoupe en ce point (et presque en ce seul point) celle qu’avait disposée sur les choses le savoir du XVIe siècle.

   Mais la description de Belon ne relève à vrai dire que de la positivité qui l’a rendue, à son époque possible. Elle n’est ni plus rationnelle, ni plus scientifique que telle observation d’Aldrovandi, lorsqu’il compare les parties basses de l’homme aux lieux infects du monde, à l’Enfer, à ses ténèbres, aux damnés qui sont comme les excréments de l’Univers ; elle appartient à la même cosmographie analogique que la comparaison, classique à l’époque de Crollius, entre l’apoplexie et la tempête : l’orage commence quand l’air s’alourdit et s’agite, la crise au moment où les pensées deviennent lourdes, inquiètes ; puis les nuages s’amoncellent, le ventre se gonfle, le tonnerre éclate et la vessie se rompt ; les éclairs fulminent tandis que les yeux brillent d’un éclat terrible, la pluie tombe, la bouche écume, la foudre se déchaîne tandis que les esprits font éclater la peau ; mais voilà que le temps redevient clair et que la raison se rétablit chez le malade. L’espace des analogies est au fond un espace de rayonnement. De toutes parts, l’homme est concerné par lui ; mais ce même homme, inversement, transmet les ressemblances qu’il reçoit du monde. Il est le grand foyer des proportions, – le centre où les rapports viennent s’appuyer et d’où ils sont réfléchis à nouveau."

Michel Foucault, Les Mots et les Choses. Une archéologie des sciences humaines (1966)

Minority Report (Polar Victorian Version)

 

 

CHAPTER VIII.—SOUTH POLAR POLICE BUREAU.

Next morning my host told me that a gang of robbers had been arrested the evening before, and if I cared to do so we would go to the police court to witness the trial.

"Whose house did they break into?" I cried.

He looked at me in astonishment for a moment, and then, remembering how ignorant I was of the customs of Theon very courteously concealed his astonishment and explained to me:

"There is seldom any crime committed in this country. The great mistake nations in other parts of the world make is in waiting until a crime is committed before steps are taken to prevent it. You have a proverb about it in your language—'Locking the stable after the horse is stolen.'"

"But how can you prevent it?"

"Have you been so long with us and not learned that we are all mind readers?"

"But," I queried, still far at sea, "you have police patrolling the streets. I have seen them, and a fine looking body of men they are."

"Yes, of course. We have our police system, and it is very nearly perfect. But policemen here are to prevent crime, not to catch the criminal after it is committed."

"I am sure I do not follow you."

"It is very simple. As I said, we are all mind readers. Now, if we always knew what man was inclined to rob us we could read his mind and learn when. But take my case. I cannot spend my time reading the minds of every person in the city to see if my property is safe. So we have police to do it for us. They constantly patrol the streets, reading the minds of those they meet, and a report is made of each suspect when guard is relieved, which occurs about every three hours. Of course they do not mentally interrogate every one they meet on the street, that would be impossible; but in the course of a month, with the help of the reserve guard, which is stationed in the inner court, every person in the city passes under their scrutiny.

"But this attention is centered chiefly upon the 'suspects.' When a person falls under suspicion he is kept under constant surveillance. To make it plain to you: While we are sitting here, suppose I read in your mind that you had a desire to steal my watch. (I beg your pardon for even hinting at it in way of illustration.) I would report the fact to the chief of police, and an officer would be detailed to take you under his surveillance. Not one thought of yours could be concealed from him, and if you determined upon the theft, you most likely would be arrested before you could commit the crime."

"But what would you do with me? I would have done nothing that a court could sentence me for!"

"You would not be punished. We seldom are called upon to do that, and when we are, the ceremony is made a very solemn one, indeed."

"But you have judges and courts equal to any I have ever seen in America."

"Yes, but not for the same purpose. Let us follow the illustration of yourself. When you were arrested you would be taken into the court and your record produced by the policeman who had been watching you. From this the judge would decide, not as to your guilt, but as to how far inclined towards crime your intellect had become, and would sentence you accordingly."

"Still I do not see how that would not be punishing me for something I had not done."

"Not at all, I assure you. If you were shown to be not really bad, you would be committed to reformatory No. I, as it is called. You would not be imprisoned. On the contrary, you would at once be set at liberty and no restrictions whatever placed upon you. But you would be under the tutelage of the reserve judges of the inner court. They are chosen from the purest men and most powerful minds in the country. In other words, they are the clergy of the land. To them your case would be made known and your record given. Each one would take you under his supervision for an hour a day and would, during that hour, direct the whole power of his mind upon yours to drive from it every evil thought. There would not be a moment of the day when their minds were not working upon yours. It is very seldom that this course does not succeed in reclaiming the suspect."

"But if it should not?"

"This is seldom the case. But when it does fail, if the man grows worse, he is committed to the mental hospital and there given a course of treatment."

"I am curious to hear more."

"He is committed to the hospital for a certain length of time which the judge determines upon, according to the violence of his disease. But he is not punished. On the contrary, his surroundings are the most pleasant. He has pure companions, and is treated according to his disease."

"His disease? May I ask what you mean?"

"Suppose his disease is drunkenness. The disgrace of it is placed before him by one physician for an hour. Then succeeds another who impresses upon his mind the respectability of sobriety. Other physicians give him general moral tone."

"O, you mean he must spend his time listening to lectures. I shouldn't think that would be a very good way of reforming a criminal."

"No, no. Lectures would be the last thing we would think of. The patient knows nothing of his treatment except that it is going on. He seldom, if ever, sees his physicians. They, as the judges in the first case, work upon his mind entirely and try to drive out the evil and fill it with good thoughts."

"And do they always succeed?"

"If a man sets his will against them he can combat the wills of his physicians and receive no benefit from their treatment—if his will is stronger than theirs. We have had a few such instances."

"And then?"

"They redouble the corps of physicians."

"You spoke of his pleasant surroundings."

"Yes. That is under the supervision of his nurses. Each nurse has one or more patients under his or her care. They look after the surroundings, the environments, see that they are proper and conducive to his reform. And to them a great deal is due. They become his friends, and attempt to lead him by moral suasion away from evil. They look after his books. They see to it that time does not drag or the life in the hospital prove irksome. They look after his amusement and see that his mind is kept in a healthy condition, so as to be receptive of good thoughts from his physicians."

"It all seems very strange to me."

"Yes, no doubt it must to one who has never been taught that all crime and all evil is a disease which must be treated as such as much as any ailment of the body."

During this conversation we had been preparing to leave the house, and at the conclusion of my host's last remark were walking down the broad path to the gate. As we pursued our way along the street my mind was busy revolving the things he had told me. One point seemed a little incongruous, where so much pains was taken to reform a criminal before he had committed a crime, it did not seem quite consistent that his case should be tried in open court and visitors allowed to be present to hear the evidence, for in my own land when we wish to save a young man who has been tempted we try most of all to keep his fault from becoming known. The more I thought of this the more inconsistent it became and my friend, no doubt reading my thoughts, said:

"Were these not old offenders who are to be tried to-day we would not be permitted to witness the examination, for when a man is first brought before the court and sent to reformatory No. I, the whole proceeding is managed so very quietly that few need know of it. But after a man has been under the supervision of the seven judges of the inner court and then turns out bad, we consider it for the best interests of society that the public at large know what disease he is inclined to in order to protect itself against him. The men whose trial we are about to witness have passed through this stage, and hence their trial will be public."

When we reached the temple of justice I found a large marble structure, the interior of which, while very simple in design, gave one the idea of loftiness and grandeur. At one end, upon a platform, stood the judge's desk, behind which sat one of the criminal judges, of which there were ten in the state.

The prisoners were seated in front of him, with no guards near, at which I expressed my surprise. But my host told me in a low tone that the odylic force which was being concentrated upon them was of such power that they could move only as the judge desired.

There was really little examination of the witnesses themselves, the principal part of the trial consisting of the policemen's testimony. As we entered, the sergeant of the platoon which had the burglars in surveillance was speaking.

"Six months ago," he said, "these men were brought into the inner court and the records read concerning them. Three at that time were friends and conspiring to rob. The minds of the others were tainted with the same disease, but as yet had formed no combination. Since then I and my division have been keeping them under constant surveillance. Each possesses a strong will, which he placed in opposition to that of the seven judges. Three months ago the whole band drew closer together. They had not at that time settled upon any particular house to rob, but frequently held communication with one another upon the injustice of some men being rich while others were poor, and some men honored with office while others were but common citizens in a land which teaches the equality of man. Gradually this idea grew in their minds until they determined upon an equal division of wealth, and to carry out this idea decided upon robbing the wealthiest man in the city. Every preparation had been made and the robbery would have occurred last night had we not arrested them."

"Is this true?" asked the judge of the prisoners.

"It is," they replied. For in court where there can be no deceit and where mind reads mind, there are no spoken lies.

Sentence was immediately passed by the judge. The three original conspirators were committed to ward I of the burglary hospital, two of the others to ward 2 of the same institution, and the rest, whose minds were not so badly diseased, to ward 3. As soon as sentence was passed the men arose and, without guards, marched directly to the hospital, the odylic force, my host explaining, compelling them to do so.

 

Charles Curtz Hahn, The wreck of the South pole : or The great dissembler, and other strange tales 1899