author so wishes?' he says. 'It is the author who has the last word over what takes place in the world of his novel, not us.'). But the reader shouldn't worry: the sentence about the snakes is pure fantasy. As are all the previous ones of course, this being a work of fiction, but let us be clear: this sentence is a fantasy in which the reader is not to believe, while the others, equally fictitious, are to be believed, at least during reading, in order for the story to make sense. In fact, the only purpose of this ridiculous last sentence is, in my view, to emphasise the eidesis. The author wants us to see the image hidden in this chapter. Even so, it's a deceptive device and the reader should not jump to the obvious conclusion] This morning, before I had reached this stage of the translation, Helena and I unexpectedly discovered not only the correct eidetic image, but also - or so I believe - the key to the whole book. We immediately told Elio, our boss.
'"Damp cold", "sliminess" or "stickiness", "sinuous" and "slithering" movements ... It could be a snake, couldn't it?' suggested Elio. 'Chapter One, a lion. Chapter Two, a snake.'
'But what about "head"?' I objected. 'Why all the "multiple heads"?' Elio shrugged. So I showed him the little statue I'd brought from home. 'Helena and I think we know. This is a statue of the Hydra, the mythical monster with many snake heads that multiplied when they were cut off. Hence the emphasis on the "beheading" of the figs.'
'But there's more,' said Helena. 'Defeating the Lernean Hydra was the second Labour performed by Hercules, the hero of many Greek legends.'
'So what?' said Elio.
I went on excitedly: 'The Athenian Murders has twelve chapters and, according to legend, Hercules performed, in all, twelve labours. His Greek name was Heracles. The name of the novel's central character is Heracles, too. And the first Labour of Hercules, or Heracles, consisted in slaying the Nemean lion . . . and the hidden image in Chapter One is a lion.'
'And in Chapter Two it's the Hydra,' said Elio quickly. 'It does all seem to fit... For now, that is.'
'What do you mean "for now"?' I was slightly annoyed by this qualification.
Elio smiled calmly. 'I agree with your conclusions,' he said, 'but eidetic works can be treacherous. You have to remember that you're dealing here with things that are entirely imaginary, not even words but ... ideas. Distilled images. How can we be sure what final key the author had in mind?'
'Simple,' I replied. 'We just have to prove our theory. In most versions, the third Labour is the capture of the Erymanthian Boar. If the image hidden in Chapter Three turns out to be a boar, that's one more item of proof . . .'
'And so on until the end,' said Helena confidently.
'I have one objection.' Elio scratched his bald head. 'The Labours of Hercules weren't a secret when this work was written. Why use eidesis to hide them in the text?'
There was silence.
'A valid point,' admitted Helena. 'But let's suppose that the author created an eidesis of the eidesis, and that the Labours of Hercules are, in turn, hiding another image—'
'And so on ad infinitum?' interrupted Elio. 'If that's so, we'll never find the original idea. You have to stop somewhere. According to that view, Helena, any written thing can refer the reader to an image which, in turn, can refer him to another, and another ... It would make reading impossible!'
They both looked at me expectantly. I admitted I didn't understand either. 'Montalo edited the original text,' I said, 'but unbelievably he doesn't seem to have noticed anything. I've written to him. His thoughts may prove useful...'
'Did you say Montalo?' Elio raised his eyebrows. 'I'm afraid you've wasted your time. Montalo died last year. Didn't you know? It was big news. You didn't know either, Helena?'
'No,' admitted Helena. She glanced at me sympathetically. 'That's bad luck.'
'Isn't it?' agreed Elio. He turned to me. 'And since his was the only
MR. PINK-WHISTLE INTERFERES