ROPE, POCKETS, 
THE BIDET
by
Barbara F. Lefcowitz
1.
I can still hear the slap of the rope on the sidewalk, the jingles that
accompanied our games: "Oh you can’t go to Macy’s any more, more,
more/There’s a big fat policeman at the door/door/door" ..." High water,
low water, over the bridge". . . And what in the world was Double Dutch?
The jump-rope itself had two shiny handles made of wood, usually a lacquered red; the
handles were curved to fit your small hands. You could play the sissy way--two friends
swinging a rope no higher than six or eight inches, your aim to jump across the swinging
rope without touching it. If you should be clumsy enough to do the latter, it was time to
be a swinger, not a jumper. Of course, you kept track of the number of times you had
cleared the rope. Or you could be more daring, swinging the rope over your head and
jumping over it when it hit the ground, never pausing, sometimes inviting another girl to
join you as you relentlessly turned the rope over and under. . .again, keeping careful
track of the number of times she or you cleared the rope. Why did only girls play
jump-rope? And why is it so hard to do even one or two "jumping jacks" when
you’re past the age of, say, eleven?
***
Little pouches sewn onto my grandmother’s apron, they held
everything: coins, curls of dust, shiny pieces of paper, thread, needles, perhaps a piece
of candy she was holding in reserve for one of us. . .Pockets: especially convenient for
stowing handkerchiefs and your own hands when you didn’t know what to do with them.
More often than not, some of the stitches that held them came loose and whatever you put
in your pocket slipped out immediately: a skate key, a lipstick you weren’t supposed
to be using, a tampon. Or an equally torn glove might hang in there, one finger caught in
the pocket’s hole. And, to your chagrin, sometimes they were fake, mere patches some
designer thought would look neat on the sides of a skirt. But the real ones were a
godsend, whether made from lace, velveteen, leather, or wool, for they could relieve our
hands of sticky burdens, substitute well enough for those balky things called purses--or,
back a few decades, pocket books. Which brings to mind, of course, paperbound books. .
.Were they really supposed to fit into a pocket?
***
I saw my first bidet on my first trip to Paris, more than four decades
ago. The man who accompanied me refrained from urinating into the bidet just in time,
figuring it was meant for something else. Which in his case turned out to be a basin for
washing his clothes, emptying a packet of the newly invented beads of cold water soap atop
his underwear and socks and letting them soak. If the chambermaid hadn’t shortly
thereafter entered the room and burst out laughing, perhaps I’d not been especially
curious about the purpose of a bidet. Of course, she did not explain, just kept on
laughing. Rude, to say the least. And indicative of a narrow mind as well, a mind with no
tolerance for versatility--for surely the bidet is one of the most versatile of
contraptions, effective for all manner of activities--except that for which it was
designed. In fact, I can’t think of a less effective contraceptive, even if the woman
rushes from bed to bidet before her lover has even consummated his passion. Ah, but the
French. . .
__________________
2.
Since the Stone Age, people have twisted fibres, hair, and strips of
hide into an ur-form of rope, which then served as cordage for fishing nets and the making
of traps. Early in its history, rope’s versatility was recognized: a cave-painting in
eastern Spain shows a person using a primitive rope ladder to climb down a cliff’s
face in order to collect wild honey.
To make rope, the ancient Egyptians used reeds and fibre
from date palms, as well as grass, papyrus, flax, and camel-hair. But the rope was used
not for binding together bolts of cloth or sheaves of any sort; rather it served as a
means for gangs of slaves to combine their strength so they might move the enormous stones
necessary for construction of the pyramids and other great monuments. The ropes were thick
as a wrist; once the stone was set on a sledge with rollers, men, often nearly 200 at a
time, could haul it by pulling on four or more long and many-stranded ropes. The Egyptians
also used rope for rigging their boats, creating it from strips of leather as well as palm
and papyrus fibres. Several tomb paintings reveal the complicated process of making such
rope, one person feeding the fibres into a "whirling tool," which another person
turned by hand, at the same time walking backwards until the strands were sufficiently
stretched.
***
Who can forget the sinking feeling when a plane on which one was a
passenger hit an air pocket and began suddenly to descend, usually on a summer day? The
term pocket is also used in reference to a cavity in the earth that contains gold or some
other metallic ore. When speaking of billiards, a pocket refers to any of the pouches at
the sides or corners of the table. . .Rodents also have pockets; in fact, there is a
species of rodent called the pocket mouse (Perognathus), burrowing creatures common
to deserts whose pockets consist of fur-filled pouches in their cheeks. Larger versions go
by the name of pocket gophers. . . Neither they nor the smaller pocket mice have any
connection with the American legislative phenomenon of the pocket veto: one brought about
by the President’s failure to sign a bill presented to him within ten days of the
adjournment of Congress: Presumably he simply stuck the bill in a pocket of his pants and
forgot all about it; by the time the laundress discovered the errant piece of paper, it
was too late to remedy the situation.
***
Ah, but the French. . .Only they could create such a website as
"The (virtual) Baguette."
Assuming we know that the word bidet literally means pony,
the authors proceed to inform us that the history of the bidet goes back to the time of
the Crusades, when returning cavaliers invented a pre-bidet called Bidoaille,
which they could mount as if it were a horse --or a woman. While sitting astride their
creation, they would sing a famous folksong which begins "A dada sur mon bidet. .
." Alas, no further lyrics are provided.
By the time of the Industrial Revolution, the bidet had
become a status symbol for the nouvelle bourgeoisie. In order to distinguish
themselves from the latter, aristocrats designed a new version of the bidet, le
Bidache, used exclusively for washing mustaches. On one of his many trips to Paris,
none other than Karl Marx was so intrigued by this latest device that he used it to wash
his ample beard, subsequently proclaiming--to the chagrin of the few remaining
aristocrats--"Le lavabo est le Bidache du peuple": the sink is the
bidet of the common man.
In contemporary Paris, people now display the bidet in
their foyers and use it openly, though one must be sufficiently discreet never to talk
about its many functions, which include washing one’s feet and le cul
(backside), but apparently not efforts to avoid conception. Vive le France! Accompanying
the deadpan text are scenes from that tourist must, Le Galerie de Bidets. . .which
turns out to contain several pictures of one and only one ordinary bidet photographed from
different angles. As Gertrude Stein never said, a bidet is a bidet is a bidet. And as
Freud never said, sometimes a bidet is simply a bidet, like the cigar that is simply a
cigar and not a symbolic penis.
_____________
3.
To a cowboy, the word rope indicates a lasso or lariat; to a scientist a
sticky glutinous formation of stringy matter that develops in a liquid. If garlic bulbs
are strung by twisting or braiding they constitute a "rope of garlic"; likewise
there are onion ropes and, conceivably, pomegranate ropes, even starfruit and lichee
ropes.
Metaphorically, we speak of "learning the ropes"
in reference to learning a particular procedure; perhaps the term derived from the
complications of boat-rigging or creating nautical knots. Then there are the ropey
metaphors for enclosures, all cliches by now: police "rope off" the scene of a
crime or accident (though nowadays they usually accomplish this by setting up flashing
lights or those red plastic cones that resemble clown’s hats); an angry person might
complain of being "roped"--i.e. tricked--into buying something by a deceptive
salesperson, say, a Lambroghini or Jaguar when one already has one or both.
Those who have reached the limits of their endurance are
said to be "at the end of their rope." Perhaps that expression relates to
mountain climbing or to execution by hanging; in either case, lack of a sufficient length
of rope can lead to disaster. More obvious the phrase "on the ropes" to indicate
the verge of defeat or collapse, a term derived from the roped-off boxing ring.
***
Somewhat less familiar pockets include pocket boroughs, a
pre-Reformation English term for a borough whose representatives to Parliament were not
freely elected but determined by families with clout and cash. In racing circles, the word
pocket refers to a position in which someone’s progress is impeded because other
competitors have hemmed him in. We say something "has lined his pockets" when he
has profitted at the expense of others; if something is "in one’s pocket,"
she’s won something valuable, like the votes of a particular district or unquestioned
obedience of its inhabitants.
Have you ever fished in the pockets of a coat hanging in a
closet while waiting, say, for a prospective employer to emerge from his or her office to
interview you? Better yet, the pockets of a visiting dignitary, your lawyer, the man or
woman suspected of having an adulterous relationship with your spouse, your stockbroker,
your psychotherapist. . .Alas, most of the time, all you’ll find is a crumpled
kleenex, a penny or two, some lint. But there’s always that chance of finding a
secret document or a neatly rolled marijuana joint. . .even keys or money.
***
Simply by dialing an 800 number you can order an IntiMist Bidet and
enhance "your own personal hygiene regimen." Manufactured by Panasonic, the
IntiMist boasts twin nozzles, each for a separate but undefined function, a heated seat, a
family nozzle for those who would cleanse together. What’s more, all functions are
user-activated so one need not worry about being sprayed by accident. You might, however,
prefer the Bidecut, which offers "water rinsing for feeling good."
Too bourgeois? A company called Le Elegant Emporium offers,
for a mere few thousand dollars, a bidet created from genuine Italian marble and designed
in Japan, the perfect addition to a bathroom so stylish your guests will stay forever.
When I noticed the ad for that bathroom, I began to laugh like that long ago Parisian
chambermaid: what could be the use of the genuine marble bidet other than its contribution
to snobbery--as if the sunken marble tub the size of a Roman bath, the inevitable jacuzzi,
and iridescent commode with gold fixtures were not enough to furnish the wildest
imagination of those who dream about water closets.
But without imagination there would be no versatility. Hence the bidet as an extra place
to store wine or, filled with ice, to stock extra cans of beer lest they be needed at a
party. . . An extra punch bowl, soup vat, or--with a sterno can artfully concealed
beneath-- a container for the melted cheese of a fondue, if anyone discriminating enough
to purchase a marble bidet would deign to serve his guests something so gauche. . . Has
any murderer ever disposed of his victim in the spout of a bidet, preferably finely
minced?
____________________
4.
Versatility, of course, is what links rope, pockets, and bidets. And
certainly today the capacity to be versatile is equivalent to the capacity to be
unswervingly faithful to the edicts of the gods in simpler times. How many
"riffed" engineering instructors are now teaching the use of computers; how many
holders of doctoral degrees in English or the humanities are now teaching the use of
computers; how many unemployed scientists. . .
Daily life constantly demands more flexibility, a
subcategory of versatility, than ever before. Pity the person who used to pay for a subway
or bus ride with a coin or two but must now purchase a computerized "fare card"
from a machine that even if functioning is not guaranteed to accept that person’s one
and only dollar bill. Just because. . .
Once upon a time you could seek information over the
telephone and be greeted by a human voice. Whether the speaker knew anything or not is
beside the point. Now one not only must be sufficiently versatile to remember whether to
press one or press two, but if you know your party’s extension, well, then press 767
followed by the pound key or would you please enter your date of birth and date of death
by pressing the appropriate buttons followed by the star key--or is it the. . .
The word versatile itself derives from the Latin for turn.
Thus a versatile person is able to turn easily from one task to another, one mate to
another, one sleeping surface to another, be it a soft bed, a futon, or the floor;
likewise one must be able to move from, say, a city on the equator to Alaska with no
problem whatsoever despite the radically different patterns of sunrise and sunset.
To achieve such a high degree of versatility, it is
necessary to blunt both memory and strong responses to the present, thus diminishing the
likelihood of forming close attachments and, god forbid, enacting any rituals. Potential models include those flowers whose petals have "versatile
anthers" so they can swing easily a breeze and people who possess a "versatile
toe," one which can move in several directions at once, adapting to whatever dance
pattern might be demanded at the moment. (I often fear such thinking will be much
encouraged in the future; indeed, I see evidence of it in many of my present day students,
who scorn the need to learn about anything that occurred before they were born and laugh
at the very concept of ethical standards and laws that transcend any particular
circumstance, at the same time shrugging their shoulders in response to present events.)
A versicolored object or creature gathers no visual moss
and is thus adept at camouflage. Then there’s the related word "version"--a
particular and not necessarily reliable account of an event or story but one that reveals
the creative versatility of the person who has created that account. The word also refers
to turning the foetus in the uterus so as to bring it into a position most favorable for
birth.
Which brings me to my final point: versatility of thought,
essential for all artists, but particularly for writers. A sure sign of the lack of
versatility is literalism, an inability to imagine, let alone write about anything not
previously defined and structured. Literalism is closely linked with authoritarianism,
reliance on the knowledge or whims of another person or another historical era; it demands
no interpretation, no stretching, as it were, of the fibres that comprise the ropework of
the mind.
Unlike a pocket, which can contain virtually any
combination of things, those who are not versatile can only hold a single idea, most
likely a memorized slogan. And quite unlike a bidet, the non-versatile are capable of only
one function: repetition of what has already been said and done.
For such people, to engage in variations that might result
in new connections is downright scary. Yet there can be no progress without risking new
webs of possibilities combined with chance, no matter how absurd they might at first seem.
Likewise, no matter how absurd they might ultimately turn out to be. . .
_______________ |
Fiction