Atdtda29: So the stories go, 818-820

[Paul Nightingale]

To Zengg, and "the narrow passage" that "open[s] out": another recycling of
"the complete ensemble of 'free choices'" (811), which here succeeds
Yashmeen's incomprehension "until it was too late to matter" (818). A bit
further down the first paragraph, sea/currents/wind "[are] a composite being
with intentions of its own"; and none of it has anything to do with rail
timetables.

Yashmeen is now 'with' Vlado as earlier she was 'with' Cyprian. In 57.7 the
narrative adopted Cyprian's pov; here, Vlado's pov is prioritised, although
he speaks throughout as 'we' rather than as 'I'. Hence Yashmeen's
perceptions ("It was as if the sea ..." etc) are subordinate to Vlado's
certainty: "Vlado said" followed by "she speculated". What she sees ("She
watched the hillside town ..." etc) is accompanied by Vlado's authoritative
voiceover. And then, "... it seemed that all the Uskok hinterland"
(implicitly Yashmeen's ongoing attempt at comprehension) segues into a more
knowing discourse on "[t]he old rivalries between Turkey and Austria", which
in turn gives way to Vlado's account. On 819 he is interrupted when Yashmeen
asserts herself (or rather an alternative perspective: "You were pirates
..."), but responds with denial. 

On 817, in Venice: "I was expecting ... abduction up into the Velebit". And
now, Vlado, speaking of Venice: "... whom we wish to abduct, to worship, to
hope in vain someday to be loved by" (819). In this section the narrative is
built on Vlado's self-disclosure, a renunciation of bourgeois individualism,
perhaps; and then there is coy evasion when she recycles "stories" of
cannibalism (a moment she subsequently returns to). Lengthy passages of
history then give way, when "Vlado disappear[s] upcountry on one of his
political errands".

The narrative now follows the solitary Yashmeen through the day as she
awaits Vlado's return; upon seeing him again she knows he will refuse to
tell her what has happened in the interim (820). Sex recalls their first
meeting on 816, where "just in that instant" he emerges from stormy weather;
on that occasion the "relapse into her old Zetamania" (815) has been
disrupted. Here, she passes time aimlessly, denied formal narrative agency,
even praying for him "on an impulse too hidden from her to account for"
(820). Finally, she inserts herself ("You have eaten my heart ...") into the
history he has previously rehearsed. Earlier he denied the authority of her
sources (or "stories", 819). Here, sex and her final outburst fill the
emptiness produced by his refusal to go on telling stories of his own: she
"knew ... there had been a recreational element in his day he would not tell
her about" (820).