Intro

Thud! There goes the burden of waiting for the new chapter, finally dropping to the floor. A heavy burden it was; I’ve grown tired of carrying it, to be frank. Don’t look at me so reproachfully — here it is, your chapter! I’ve been waiting for it too. How wonderful that we’ve made it all the way to Chapter Twenty-Three! So many times it seemed we’d reached a dead end and could abandon the Story, but the characters always find their way out if the author loves them ... and hasn’t grown tired of them. And incidentally, to me the characters aren’t just people. There’s the house at 6 Maple Court. There’s the City of B. Today we’ll begin with a poem by Baudelaire. I dedicate it to my beloved city.

“With heart at rest I climbed the citadel’s
Steep height, and saw the city as from a tower,
Hospital, brothel, prison, and such hells,
Where evil comes up softly like a flower.
Thou knowest, O Satan, patron of my pain,
Not for vain tears I went up at that hour;
But, like an old sad faithful lecher, fain
To drink delight of that enormous trull
Whose hellish beauty makes me young again.
Whether thou sleep, with heavy vapours full,
Sodden with day, or, new apparelled, stand
In gold-laced veils of evening beautiful,
I love thee, infamous city! Harlots and
Hunted have pleasures of their own to give,
The vulgar herd can never understand.”{br}