Lydia Maria Child - "The Magician's Show Box and Other Stories"

Various - "The Atlantic Monthly, Vol. I., No. 3, January 1858"

Richard Henry Savage - "The Midnight Passenger"

Alexandre Dumas - "Le Capitaine Arena"

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Chronicle Of The Cid by Various

V >> Various >> Chronicle Of The Cid




XX. On the morrow there was a great stir among the men of the town, and
they were greatly troubled at this foul thing which Abeniaf had done.
But Abeniaf thinking that he should now have his desire, and that all
was done, took horse and rode forth with all his company to the
Bridge-end, to see Ruydiez the Cid. And the Bishop, as he was called,
of Albarrazin, came to meet him with a great company of knights, being
the chiefs of the company of the Cid, and they did great honour unto
him, thinking that he would give them something. And they brought him
to the lodging of the Cid, which was in the Garden of the New Town; and
the Cid came out to meet him at the garden gate, and embraced him, and
made much of him. And the first thing which he said, was, to ask him
why he had not put on kingly garments, for King he was: and he bade him
take off the coif which he wore, for it was not what beseemed him now,
and made semblance as if he would have held his stirrups. And they
stood talking awhile. Now the Cid thought that Abeniaf would not come
to him with empty hands, and looked that he should give him of the
treasures and jewels that he had taken from King Yahia whom he had
slain; but when he saw that he brought nothing, then began the Cid to
talk of terms, and said unto him that if he desired to have his love,
and that there should be peace between them, he must divide with him
the rents of the town, as well what was collected within as without,
and that he would have his own Almoxarife to see to this and collect
his share. And Abeniaf made answer that it should be so. And the Cid
demanded of him his son as hostage, that he might keep him in Juballa,
for otherwise he said he could not be secure. And Abeniaf agreed to
this also; so they parted for that day, having appointed that they
should meet on the morrow, and confirm this covenant by writings so
that it should be good. Then Abeniaf returned into the city, full
sorrowful and taking great thought; and then he saw the foolishness
that he had done in sending away the Almoravides out of the land, and
in putting his trust in men of another law. And on the morrow the Cid
sent for him that he should come out and confirm the covenant; but
Abeniaf sent him word that he would not give him his son, even though
he knew he should lose his head for refusing. And the Cid sent him a
letter with great threats, saying, that since he had thus deceived him,
there should never more be love between them, nor would he ever believe
aught which he should say. And then the hatred between them waxed very
great. And the Cid sent unto that Moor who had taken the sons of
Aboegib and bade him leave the town, and go unto the Castle which was
called Alcala; and he obeyed and went thither, for he dared not do
otherwise than as the Cid commanded. And he did great honours to the
sons of Aboegib and to their kinsmen, and gave orders that they should
be provided with all things which they needed, and gave them garments,
and promised that he would be their great friend. At this time three
good men of Valencia died, who were the most honourable of the town and
of the most discretion, and Abeniaf was left as Chief, for there was
none to gainsay him.

XXI. And the Cid made war afresh upon the city as cruelly as he could,
and the price of bread was now three times as great as it had been at
the beginning; the load of wheat was worth an hundred _maravedís_ of
silver, and the pound of flesh was a _maravedí_. And the Cid drew nigh
unto the walls, so as to fight hand to hand with the townsmen. And
Abeniaf waxed proud and despised the people, and when any went to make
complaint before him, and ask justice at his hands, he dishonoured
them, and they were evil entreated by him. And he was like a King,
retired apart, and trobadors and gleemen and masters disported before
him which could do the best, and he took his pleasure. And they of the
town were in great misery, from the Christians who warred upon them
from without, and the famine whereof they died within. Moreover Abeniaf
oppressed them greatly, and he took unto himself all the goods of those
who died, and he made all persons equal, the good and the bad, and took
from all all that he could; and those who gave him nothing he ordered
to be tormented with stripes, and cast into rigorous prisons, till he
could get something from them. And he had no respect neither for
kinsman nor friend. There was but one measure for all, and men cared
nothing now for their possessions, so that the sellers were many and
the buyers none. And with all these miseries the price of food became
exceeding great, for the _cafiz_ of wheat was priced at ninety
_maravedis_, and that of barley at eighty, and that of painick eighty
and five, and that of all pulse sixty, and the _arroba_ of figs seven,
and of honey twenty, and of cheese eighteen, and of carobs sixteen, and
of onions twelve, and the measure of oil twenty: flesh there was none,
neither of beast nor of anything else; but if a beast died, the pound
was worth three _maravedis_. And they were so weak with hunger that the
Christians came to the walls and threw stones in with the hand, and
there was none who had strength to drive them back.

XXII. And the Cid having it at heart to take the town, let make an
engine, and placed it at one of the gates, and it did great hurt both
to the walls and within the town; and the Moors made other engines,
with the which they brake that of the Cid. And the Cid in his anger let
make three engines, and placed them at the three gates of the town, and
they did marvellous great hurt. And food waxed dearer every day, till
at last dear nor cheap it was not to be had, and there was a great
mortality for famine; and they eat dogs and cats and mice. And they
opened the vaults and privies and sewers of the town, and took out the
stones of the grapes which they had eaten, and washed them, and ate
them. And they who had horses fed upon them. And many men, and many
women, and many children watched when the gates were open, and went out
and gave themselves into the hands of the Christians, who slew some,
and took others, and sold them to the Moors in Alcudia; and the price
of a Moor was a loaf and a pitcher of wine: and when they gave them
food, and they took their fill, they died. Them that were stronger they
sold to merchants who came there by sea from all parts. And the Moors
of Alcudia, and of the town which the Cid had made there, had plenty of
all things, and as great as was their abundance, even so great was the
misery of those in the town: and they spake the verse which sayeth, If
I go to the right the water will destroy me, and if I go to the left
the lion will kill me, and if I turn back there is the fire.

XXIII. Now the Moors of Valencia being in this great misery because of
the siege which the Cid laid unto the town, Abeniaf bethought him that
he would send a messenger to the King of Zaragoza, and beseech him to
come to his succour, even as he had succoured the grandson of
Alimaymon, when the Lord of Denia and Tortosa came against him. And the
good men of the town took counsel whether they should say in these
letters, To you the King, or whether they should humble themselves
before him and call him Lord; and they debated upon this for three
days, and agreed that they would call him Lord, that he might have the
more compassion upon them. And though Abeniaf was troubled at heart at
this determination, nevertheless he said in the letter as they had
appointed. And he called a Moor who spake the mixed language, and
instructed him how to get out of the city by night, so that the
Christians might not see him, and told him that when he had given that
letter to the King of Zaragoza, the King would give him garments, and a
horse, and a mule to ride on, and that he himself would show favour
unto him as long as he lived. So the messenger departed with the
letter. And the famine in the town waxed greater, and food was not now
bought by the _cafiz_, neither by the _fanega_, but by ounces, or at
most by the pound. And the pound of wheat cost a _maravedí_ and a half,
and that of barley a _maravedi_, and that of painick a _maravedi_ and a
quarter, and of pulse a _maravedi_, and of flax-seed three parts of a
_maravedi_, and of cheese three _dineros_, and of honey three, and of
figs one; and the _panilla_ of oil was eight _dineros_, and the pound
of colewort five, and the ounce of carobs three parts of a _dinero_,
and the ounce of onions the same, and the head of garlick the same; and
a pound of beast's flesh was six _maravedis_, and grape-stones were
half a _dinero_ the pound, and the skins of kine and of beasts five
_dineros_; the _dinero_ was silver, for there was no money current save
silver and gold.

XXIV. When the King of Zaragoza saw the letter which Abeniaf and the
men of Valencia had sent him, he gave no heed to it, neither cared he
for the messenger, neither did he give him even a draught of water for
his reward. And the messenger waited for his answer from day to day for
three weeks, and he dared not depart without it for fear least Abeniaf
should slay him; and he thought also that some of the King's people
would come out after him and slay him upon the way; and he was urgent
for his answer, and began at last to cry aloud at the gate of the
King's house, so that the King asked of what that messenger was making
his complaint. Then they told the King that he wanted his answer that
he might be gone. And the King wrote an answer and said, that this aid
which they besought of him he could not give till he had sent to ask
help of King Don Alfonso of Castille, for he could not else venture to
do battle with the Cid. And he exhorted them to defend themselves the
best they could while he procured horsemen from King Don Alfonso to
help them, and that they should from time to time send him word how
they went on. So the messenger returned in great sorrow that he had
sped no better, and that nothing had been given him as Abeniaf had
promised: and all this which the King of Zaragoza said was only delay,
and meant nothing. And the famine now waxed so great, that there was no
food to sell, and many died of hunger. And many for great misery went
out to the Christians, recking not whether they should be made captive,
or slain, for they thought it better to be slain than to perish for
lack of food. And Abeniaf searched all the houses in the town for food,
and where he found any store, he left only what would suffice for a
fortnight, and took the rest, saying that in that time the King of
Zaragoza would come and relieve them, for that he only tarried to
collect great store of food, that he might bring it with him. This he
said to keep the people quiet, and to encourage them. And of the food
which he carried away he took the most part for himself and for his
guards, and the rest he ordered to be sold in such manner that none
should buy more than would suffice him for the day. And what he took he
did not pay for, and when the people demanded payment he put them off
till another day; and he bade them not complain, for they would be
relieved from this misery, and then he would pay them well. And they
who had any food left buried it for fear, and for this reason there was
none to be bought, neither dear nor cheap. And they who had nothing
else, ate herbs, and leather, and electuaries from the apothecaries
which they bought at a great price, and the poor ate the dead bodies.

XXV. Now Abeniaf had no hope of succour save only from the King of
Zaragoza, who had sent to bid him hold out; and he sent to him every
night to tell him of the great misery which there was in Valencia, and
the King of Zaragoza returned for answer that King Don Alfonso had sent
him a great body of horsemen with Garcia Ordoñez, and would come
himself after them; and he sent in this letter another letter written
with his own hand, and which was to be shown to the good men of the
town, privily; and he said therein, with great oaths to confirm it,
that he would without fail come and deliver them, for it was a great
grief to him to think what they endured, and that this was as great
sorrow to him, as theirs could be. And certain of the King's favourites
wrote to Abeniaf also after the same manner, telling him that he would
surely come; howbeit one of his favourites who had compassion upon the
men of Valencia sent a covert message to warn them, saying, That the
King of Zaragoza would build a tower in Alcudia de Tudela; the meaning
of this was, that all the King said, was only to put them off. Abeniaf
did not understand it, and sent to ask him what it was that he had
said; but the other made him no reply. Then the King of Zaragoza sent
two messengers to the Cid with jewels and rich presents, and besought
him that he would not distress the men of Valencia so greatly, and also
that he would let his messengers enter the town that they might speak
with Abeniaf. This the Cid would not permit; howbeit they found means
to send in a letter, saying, Wit ye that I send to entreat the Cid that
he will not do so great evil unto you, and I give him jewels and rich
presents that he may do my will in this, and I believe that he will do
it. But if he should not, I will gather together a great host, and
drive him out of the land. Howbeit these were but dissembling words,
for the King of Zaragoza and the Cid were friends and were of one
accord, that the Cid should take Valencia and give it the King, who
should give him great treasures in return.

XXVI. Then the Cid began to treat with a great Moor of the town, named
Abenmoxiz that he should rise up against Abeniaf, and kill him or
deliver him into his hands, and that he would make him Lord over
Valencia, and the country as far as Denia. And Abenmoxiz took counsel
with his friends, and they advised him that he should do this: but
Abeniaf knew of their counsel, and took them, and put them in prison,
and gave them in charge to two of his household in whom he had great
trust. And Abenmoxiz talked with his keepers, and told them all that he
proposed to do, and promised them, if they would release him, to reward
them greatly when he had succeeded, saying, that he undertook this with
the consent and advice of the King of Zaragoza: so they were persuaded
and promised to join with him. And when it was night Abenmoxiz and his
friends and the two keepers agreed to seize the Alcazar, which was the
place wherein they were imprisoned, and to beat the alarm, and raise a
cry for the King of Zaragoza; and they thought the men of the town
would join with them, and then they would go to the house of Abeniaf
and lay hands on him. And they did accordingly, and beat a drum, and
sent a cryer upon the tower of the Mosque to bid all the people
assemble at the Alcazar. And when the people heard that drum and that
cryer they were in great fear, and knew not what to think: and they
assembled some to guard their own houses, other some to guard the
tower, till they knew what it was. And when Abeniaf heard it, he was
greatly dismayed, and he asked of all whom he found at his gates, what
the uproar was, and what this thing might be. In short time all they
who were on his side, both horse and foot, assembled together, and then
they knew what it was; and he bade them go to the Alcazar and take
Abenmoxiz, and all that held with him. Abenmoxiz this while was at the
gate of the Alcazar with his little company, thinking that the whole
town would join him; and behold Abeniaf's company came up and charged
him; and he thought to defend himself with the few that were with him,
but the most part fled, and he with four others were taken; and they
led them with great shame to the house of Abeniaf, who sent him to
prison, and gave orders to smite off the heads of the others. And
Abeniaf sent to lay hands on all whom he suspected, and took from them
all that they had. And he sent messengers to the King of Zaragoza, to
tell him what had chanced, and they took with them Abenmoxiz prisoner,
and they were charged to remain at Zaragoza, and send him true tidings
from thence.

XXVII. Now there was no food to be bought in the city, and the people
were in the waves of death: and men were seen to drop and die in the
streets, and the Place of the Alcazar round about the walls thereof was
full of graves, and there was no grave which had fewer than ten bodies
in it. As many as could fled out of the town, and delivered themselves
up to the Christians to be made prisoners. The Cid thought that they
who were the Chiefs within the walls, thrust out the poor and feeble,
that they might be able to hold out longer; and it troubled him, for he
thought to take the town by starving it, and he feared the coming of
the Almoravides. Sometimes it troubled him, and at other times he
seemed pleased that the Moors should come out and give themselves
prisoners to his people. Now it befel that once, at such time as it
seemed to please him, some of the chief men of the town came out in
this manner, and counselled him that be should attack it, for they said
the men at arms were few, and weak for hunger, and that he might
presently win it: and the Cid took thought upon this matter, and
resolved to do as they said; and he gathered together his host and
advanced against the gate which is called Belfanhanes, that is to say,
the Gate of the Snake, and they drew nigh unto the wall. And all the
people of the town assembled, even all the force which was therein, and
threw down stones from the gate and from the wall, and shot their
arrows, so that neither stone nor arrow fell in vain; and the Cid and
they who had advanced with him went into a bath which was near the
wall, to be under cover from the arrows. And Abeniaf's company opened
the gate and sallied out, seeing that the stones and arrows from the
wall had hurt many, and made the Christians draw back; and the Cid and
they who were with him remained in the bath, being shut up there, for
they could not go out by the door where at they had entered, and they
broke through the wall on the other side, and the Cid escaped that way,
being thus put to rout. Then he thought himself ill advised in having
attacked the town, and in putting himself into a place from whence he
had escaped with such great danger; and he held that the worst war
which he could make upon the men of Valencia was to let them die of
hunger. So he ordered proclamation to be made so loud that all the
Moors upon the walls could hear, bidding all who had come out from the
town to return into it, or he would burn as many as he should find; and
saying also that he would slay all who came out from that time forth.
Nevertheless they continued to let themselves down from the walls, and
the Christians took them without his knowledge. But as many as he found
he burnt alive before the walls, so that the Moors could see them; in
one day he burnt eighteen, and cast others alive to the dogs, who tore
them in pieces. They who could hide any sent them away by sea and by
land to be sold; the most whom they sent were young men and girls, for
others they would not take; and many virgins they kept for themselves.
And if they knew that any who came out, had left kinsmen or friends in
the town who would give any thing for them, they tortured them before
the walls, or hung them from the towers of the Mosques which were
without the city, and stoned them; and when they in the town saw this
they gave ransom for them, that they might be permitted to dwell in
Alcudia with the Moors who were in peace with the Cid. This continued
for two months, till there were only four beasts left in the town, and
one was a mule of Abeniaf's, and another was a horse of his son's; and
the people were so wasted that there were but few who had strength to
mount the wall.

XXVIII. The company of Abeniaf and of his kinsmen despaired now of
holding out, and of the help of the King of Zaragoza, or of the
Almoravides, and they desired rather to die than endure this misery.
And the good men of the city, as many as were left, went to an Alfaqui,
who was a good man, and one who was held in great esteem, and besought
him to give them counsel, for he saw their great distress, and how they
were out of all hope of succour; and they besought him that he would go
to Abeniaf, and know of him what he thought to do, or what hope he had,
that he let them all perish thus. The Alfaqui gave ear to them, and
said that if they would all hold together, and be of one heart, and
show great anger at having been brought to this misery, he would do all
he could to relieve them; and they promised to do whatever he should
advise. Now Abeniaf knew of the talk which the good men of the town had
had with the Alfaqui, and understood that it was because of the great
misery which they endured; and he thought in his heart that he would
humble himself, and do whatever his people should think good. And the
Alfaqui thought that happy man was his dole now that the people had
committed themselves to his guidage, and he went to Abeniaf and
communed with him, and their accord was to give up all hope of succour.
And Abeniaf put himself in the hands of the Alfaqui, that he should go
between him and the Cid and the people of Valencia, and make the best
terms for them that he could, seeing that they could no longer hold
out, and maintain the town.

XXIX. Here the history relates that at this time Martin Pelaez the
Asturian came with a convoy of laden beasts, carrying provisions to the
host of the Cid; and as he passed near the town the Moors sallied out
in great numbers against him; but he, though he had few with him,
defended the convoy right well, and did great hurt to the Moors,
slaying many of them, and drove them into the town. This Martin Pelaez
who is here spoken of, did the Cid make a right good knight, of a
coward, as ye shall hear. When the Cid first began to lay siege to the
city of Valencia, this Martin Pelaez came unto him; he was a knight, a
native of Santillana in Asturias, a hidalgo, great of body and strong
of limb, a well made man and of goodly semblance, but withal a right
coward at heart, which he had shown in many places when he was among
feats of arms. And the Cid was sorry when he came unto him, though he
would not let him perceive this; for he knew he was not fit to be of
his company. Howbeit he thought that since he was come he would make
him brave whether he would or not. And when the Cid began to war upon
the town, and sent parties against it twice and thrice a day, as ye
have heard, for the Cid was alway upon the alert, there was fighting
and tourneying every day. One day it fell out that the Cid and his
kinsmen and friends and vassals were engaged in a great encounter, and
this Martin Pelaez was well armed; and when he saw that the Moors and
Christians were at it, he fled and betook himself to his lodging, and
there hid himself till the Cid returned to dinner. And the Cid saw what
Martin Pelaez did, and when he had conquered the Moors he returned to
his lodging to dinner. Now it was the custom of the Cid to eat at a
high table, seated on his bench, at the head. And Don Alvar Fañez, and
Pero Bermudez, and other precious knights, ate in another part, at high
tables, full honourably, and none other knights whatsoever dared take
their seats with them, unless they were such as deserved to be there;
and the others who were not so approved in arms ate upon _estrados_, at
tables with cushions. This was the order in the house of the Cid, and
every one knew the place where he was to sit at meat, and every one
strove all he could to gain the honour of sitting to eat at the table
of Don Alvar Fañez and his companions, by strenuously behaving himself
in all feats of arms; and thus the honour of the Cid was advanced. This
Martin Pelaez, thinking that none had seen his badness, washed his
hands in turn with the other knights, and would have taken his place
among them. And the Cid went unto him, and took him by the hand and
said, You are not such a one as deserves to sit with these, for they
are worth more than you or than me; but I will have you with me: and he
seated him with himself at table. And he, for lack of understanding,
thought that the Cid did this to honour him above all the others. On
the morrow the Cid and his company rode towards Valencia, and the Moors
came out to the tourney; and Martin Pelaez went out well armed, and was
among the foremost who charged the Moors, and when he was in among them
he turned the reins, and went back to his lodging; and the Cid took
heed to all that he did, and saw that though he had done badly he had
done better than the first day. And when the Cid had driven the Moors
into the town he returned to his lodging, and as he sate down to meat
he took this Martin Pelaez by the hand, and seated him with himself,
and bade him eat with him in the same dish, for he had deserved more
that day than he had the first. And the knight gave heed to that
saying, and was abashed; howbeit he did as the Cid commanded him: and
after he had dined he went to his lodging and began to think upon what
the Cid had said unto him, and perceived that he had seen all the
baseness which he had done; and then he understood that for this cause
he would not let him sit at board with the other knights who were
precious in arms, but had seated him with himself, more to affront him
than to do him honour, for there were other knights there better than
he, and he did not show them that honour. Then resolved he in his heart
to do better than he had done heretofore. Another day the Cid and his
company and Martin Pelaez rode toward Valencia, and the Moors came out
to the tourney full resolutely, and Martin Pelaez was among the first,
and charged them right boldly; and he smote down and slew presently a
good knight, and he lost there all the bad fear which he had had, and
was that day one of the best knights there; and as long as the tourney
lasted there he remained, smiting and slaying and overthrowing the
Moors, till they were driven within the gates, in such manner that the
Moors marvelled at him, and asked where that Devil came from, for they
had never seen him before. And the Cid was in a place where he could
see all that was going on, and he gave good heed to him, and had great
pleasure in beholding him, to see how well he had forgotten the great
fear which he was wont to have. And when the Moors were shut up within
the town, the Cid and all his people returned to their lodging, and
Martin Pelaez full leisurely and quietly went to his lodging also, like
a good knight. And when it was the hour of eating the Cid waited for
Martin Pelaez, and when he came, and they had washed, the Cid took him
by the hand and said, My friend, you are not such a one as deserves to
sit with me from henceforth, but sit you here with Don Alvar Fañez, and
with these other good knights, for the good feats which you have done
this day have made you a companion for them; and from that day forward
he was placed in the company of the good. And the history saith that
from that day forward this knight Martin Pelaez was a right good one,
and a right valiant, and a right precious, in all places where he
chanced among feats of arms, and he lived alway with the Cid, and
served him right well and truly. And the history saith, that after the
Cid had won the city of Valencia, on the day when they conquered and
discomfited the King of Seville, this Martin Pelaez was so good a one,
that setting aside the body of the Cid himself, there was no such good
knight there, nor one who bore such part, as well in the battle as in
the pursuit. And so great was the mortality which he made among the
Moors that day, that when he returned from the business the sleeves of
his mail were clotted with blood, up to the elbow; insomuch that for
what he did that day his name is written in this history, that it may
never die. And when the Cid saw him come in that guise, he did him
great honour, such as he never had done to any knight before that day,
and from thenceforward gave him a place in all his actions and in all
his secrets, and he was his great friend. In this knight Martin Pelaez
was fulfilled the example which saith, that he who betaketh himself to
a good tree, hath good shade, and he who serves a good Lord winneth
good guerdon; for by reason of the good service which he did the Cid,
he came to such good state that he was spoken of as ye have heard: for
the Cid knew how to make a good knight, as a good groom knows how to
make a good horse. The history now leaves to speak of him, and returns
to the accord of the Alfaqui and Abeniaf, which they propounded unto
the Cid.

Documentary to lay bare 'Narnia Code'

He wrote it in just three weeks, furiously and loudly tap-tap-tapping away on his typewriter on 12ft long reels of paper so that he did not have to stop, just writing writing writing fuelled only, he said, by coffee…

It became one of the most important American novels of the last century and yesterday the original manuscript - a scroll taped together with eight reels of paper - of Jack Kerouac's On The Road was unfurled in the UK for the first time.
Fifty years after the novel which more or less defined the Beat generation, was published in Britain, the Barber Institute in Birmingham is showing what is now one of the most valuable literary manuscripts in existence as part of its exhibition Jack Kerouac: Back On the Road.

The exhibition's curator Professor Dick Ellis said there had been a lot of competition to get the scroll which is itself spending a lot of time on the move, having toured a string of US cities and hitting the road to Rome once this show is over. "We're very excited indeed," he said. "This is an iconic manuscript. It is a record of the huge effort Kerouac put into composing it. It was 20 days of typing 6,500 words a day, flat out, in spontaneous composition. He wanted to record things with the most possible accuracy using the spontaneous technique. His typewriter became a compositional instrument.

"Truman Capote once accused Kerouac of typing rather than writing, I would say he was learning the ability of using the typewriter like a jazz instrument, like a saxophone. He also had an incredible memory. And he had great speed at typing, he became a lightning typist. He came to be able to use a typewriter in a way that has not been seen before or since. Kerouac said he wrote fast because the road was fast."

About 22 of the scroll's 120ft will be on display in a specially built cabinet and while visitors will have to slightly tilt their heads, Ellis believes they will get a much deeper knowledge of what Kerouac was all about. It comes to Birmingham courtesy of Jim Irsay, owner of the Indianapolis Colts, who bought it for $2.4m (£1.6m) in 2001 before agreeing to a tour. Of course, in the published novel, there are paragraph breaks but in the scroll, there are none. Kerouac did not have the time. The exhibition runs until January 28.

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The digested read: Everyday Drinking: The Distilled Kingsley Amis
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Letter: Gender roles in the Cinderella story

Doctors assure us that wherever you find an elderly, pompous old writer long past his prime you will find a bottle of scotch nearby. If only that were the case. Hilly hid mine after I fell up the stairs when I came home from the Garrick yesterday, and I've had to make do with a bottle of Blue Nun I found in the maid's parlour. Not that I am an alcoholic. Dipsomaniacs are a breed of the lower orders you meet on street corners: people like myself are bon viveurs who happen to like a drink. Or 12.

My primary observation is that drinking makes the daily grind of dealing with people so much easier. You drink a pint of whisky and become the life and soul of the party. You then start insulting people, before sweating heavily and wetting yourself involuntarily. You will usually find that everyone quickly avoids you, thereby relieving you of the need to make conversation. This is why I prefer to do much of my drinking at home. It saves so much time.

There are a great many drinks on the market - spirits, wines and beers - and I've probably drunk them all. Usually in some kind of combination with one another. Mixing cocktails is one of my favourite hobbies. Here's one I invented last week for my great sycophant, Christopher Hitchens.

The Hitch

One bottle of Babycham

One bottle of absinthe

Five shots of Angostura very bitters

Two tablespoons of bile

Two or three glasses of this tincture can give you a lifetime of self-satisfaction.

At some time you will probably be forced to invite people to your home and they may expect a drink. My advice is to offer them the cheapest tipple you can find; my local off-licence does a ghastly Mosel at 70p a bottle. I've never cared for even the best wines, and this should guarantee those poncing off you neither ask for top-ups nor stay long, thereby leaving you more money and time for the pub.

It is well known that only the very dullest of petit-bourgeois minds fail to over-imbibe on a daily basis, so I regard hangovers as a price worth paying for my brilliance. That said, I have found ways of coping with this metaphysical malaise. The first is to fuck someone; preferably somebody else's wife, but if your own is the only one around then she will do. The second is to read a book by that little shit Mart; it will either remind you you're not that bad a writer or give you some sleep.

The one downside to drinking is that it can make you fat. This is remedied by cutting out food entirely and drinking all spirits without mixers. My weight has gone down to 19st with this diet. There isn't much more to say, but as I'm being paid by the column I'd better repeat myself. And now that I'm dead, there's no harm in Bloomsbury repackaging the same material several times in the same collection.

I don't really like wine. Gin is for pansies, though a snifter with water doesn't go amiss. Liqueurs are best left to patent-shoed Wops. Or Americans. Champagne is an overrated girl's drink, though it can be drunk with any food; as such, it's a perfect breakfast drink because a scotch before 10am is very non-U.

I loathe pubs with loud music, but my utmost detestation is reserved for sanctimonious ex-topers. There's nothing worse than a man who doesn't drink. I once tried not drinking for several hours and my wives and mistresses said how dull it was that I was conscious and they were spared removing my soiled trousers from my bloated legs.

Whisky is my favourite tipple, though I recommend never giving it to a Welshman as it's wasted on someone with an IQ of less than 80. Have I mentioned that I'm partial to a Macallan? Gosh is that the time? Hilly's coming to change my IV drip before I fall unconscious again. The publisher can bloody well pad out the rest of the book with a pointless quiz without me.

Q: Who will buy this?

A: No one.

The digested read digested: The old pub bore.

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