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PARTISAN REVIEW
about Ravensbruck and Birkenau, the Nazi concentration camps
reserved for women. He saw himself as the Kommandant, the gover–
nor, controlling with his huge whip vast troops of naked, wounded
women - and it was no rare event for the typists to be surprised by
hearing him roar.
But the secret of his new dignity lay heavy on him. He would
have liked to adopt it in the face of the whole world. He dreamed of a
conspicuous, public, devastating proclamation in front of an ecstatic
crowd . He went to his tailor and ordered a dark red leotard that em–
phasized the curves of his muscles and genitals . Back in his office he
shed the livery of the little clerk, took a shower, and put on what he
privately called his evening clothes, to which he added a mauve silk
scarf tied tightly around his long neck, like the old style Apaches.
Then, wearing moccasins with thin, pliant soles, he slipped out.
He had discovered the superior comfort his height afforded him. He
could pass under the lowest doorways with his head held high . He
could stand upright in the smallest cars. Every seat was a spacious
nest for him . The glasses and plates in bistros and restaurants of–
fered him ogres' portions. He was surrounded by abundance in all
circumstances. Soon he became aware of the colossal strength ac–
cumulated in his muscles. He quickly became known in various
nightclubs where the habitues would invite him to drink with them.
He would jump up and perch on a high stool at the counter, and he
could stand on his hands with his short legs crossed in the air, like
arms . One night, a customer who had had too much to drink in–
sulted him. Lucien threw him onto the gound and twisted his ankle,
then stood on him and started jumping up and down on his face with
a rage that terrified the onlookers. The same day a prostitute offered
herself to him for nothing, out of curiosity, because the sight of his
strength had excited her. From then on men were afraid of the red
dwarf, and women submitted to the obscure fascination emanating
from him. His vision of society began to change. He was the un–
shakeable center of a crowd of feeble, cowardly, stilt-walkers who
were unsteady on their limbs and had nothing to offer their women
but the genitals of a marmoset.
But this limited renown was to be merely a prelude. One eve–
ning, in a bar in Pigalle, after he had just won a bet by tearing in half
a pack of fifty-two cards, he was accosted by a man with a swarthy
face and black, curly hair, whose hands were adorned with dia-
