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第81部分(第2页)

three of us looked at the pages together。

We  saw  strikingly  beautiful  Chinese  maidens  depicted  in  the  style  of  our

melancholy bride gathered together in a garden playing a peculiar…looking lute。

We  saw  Chinese  houses;  morose…looking  caravans  heading  out  on  long

journeys; vistas of the steppes as beautiful as old memories。 We saw gnarled

trees  rendered  in  the  Chinese  style;  their  spring  blossoms  in  full  bloom;  and

nightingales tipsy with elation perched on their branches。 We saw princes in

the Khorasan style seated in their tents holding forth on poetry; wine and love;

spectacular gardens; and handsome nobles; with magnificent falcons clutching

their forearms; hunting bolt upright astride their exquisite horses。 Then; it was

as if the Devil had passed into the pages; we could sense that the evil in the

illustrations was most often reason itself。 Had the miniaturist added an ironic

touch to the actions of the heroic prince who slew the dragon with his gigantic

lance?  Had  he  gloated  at  the  poverty  of  the  unfortunate  peasants  expecting

fort from the sheikh in their midst? Was it more pleasurable for him to

draw the sad; empty eyes of dogs locked in coitus or to apply a devilish red to

the open mouths of the women laughing scornfully at the poor beasts? Then

we  saw  the  miniaturist’s  devils  themselves:  These  weird  creatures  resembled

the  jinns  and  giants  the  old  masters  of  Herat  and  the  artists  of  the  Book  of

Kings  drew  frequently;  yet  the  sardonic  talent  of  the  miniaturist  made  them

more  sinister;  aggressive  and  human  in  form。  We  laughed  watching  these

terrifying devils; the size of a man yet with misshapen bodies; branching horns

and  feline  tails。  As  I  turned  the  pages;  these  naked  devils  with  bushy  brows;

round  faces;  bulging  eyes;  pointed  teeth;  sharp  nails  and  the  dark  wrinkled

356

skin of old men began to beat each other and wrestle; to steal a great horse

and sacrifice it to their gods; to leap and play; to cut down trees; to spirit away

beautiful  princesses  in  their  palanquins  and  to  capture  dragons  and  sack

treasuries。 I mentioned that in this volume; which had seen the touch of many

different brushes; the miniaturist known as Black Pen; who’d made the devils;

also  drew  Kalenderi  dervishes  with  shaved  heads;  ragged  clothes;  iron  chains

and  staffs;  and  Master  Osman  had  me  one  by  one  repeat  their  similarities;

listening closely to what I said。

“Cutting open the nostrils of horses so they might breathe easier and travel

farther  is  a  centuries…old  Mongol  custom;”  he  said  later。  “Hulagu  Khan’s

armies conquered all of Arabia; Persia and China with their horses。 When they

entered Baghdad; put its inhabitants to the sword; plundered it and tossed all

its  books  into  the  Tigris;  as  we  know;  the  famous  calligrapher;  and  later;

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