My Body in Nine Parts Read Online Free PDF Page B

be seen again. Never to be heard again. For once, my nose was victorious.

 
MY TOES

    Today I want to talk about my toes. I want to tell you the amazing, and disconcerting discovery I made last night while cutting my toe-nails.
    Are you interested?
    Well, this is what I discovered. By the way, I was wearing my eye-glasses. I always wear my glasses when I cut my nails, toe-nails as well as finger-nails, so as not to have an accident. I bleed easily. So I was really eyeing my toes very closely.
    I was stark naked. Just out of the shower.
    You’re going to tell me, Federman who cares whether you cut your toe-nails naked or fully dressed as long as you take your shoes and socks off. That’s good enough for us.
    Agreed. Forget the fact that I was naked.
    I had one foot on the edge of the bathroom sink. This way I could see myself cutting my toe-nails in the large mirror above the sink.
    I had, one might say, a double image of what I was doing. Cutting my nails while watching myself cutting my nails. I was, in other words, watching myself both outside and inside the mirror. If that makes sense to you.
    I know you’re going to tell me, Federman you’re getting to be a bore with your narcissistic redoubling. Tell the story of your toes, and forget the image in the mirror.
    Okay, I continue. When I clip my toe-nails, I always start with the little toe, the pinkie on the left foot, and I proceed, if I may venture an anatomic neologism, chronotoegically towards the big toe. Yes, I always start with the little toe of the left foot, it’s a ritual with me, and I finish with the big toe. But I don’t skip a toe, I don’t jump around. I go from one to the next.
    From small to big, from easy to more difficult because the nails of my toes get harder as the toes get bigger. I don’t know if this is the case with everyone, but that’s the case with my toe-nails.
    Well, last night I discovered that each of my toes have a particular character. A unique shape and personality.
    I know that there is a grammatical error in what I just said. I know that each cannot take a plural verb. But when I tell a story I ignore the rules of grammar. Grammar slows me down. It handicaps me.
    So, I was saying, I discovered that my toes have an individual personality. A peculiar physiognomy, to use an anatomical term metaphorically.
    I know, I know, okay, you’re going to say, Federman stop messing around with obscure anatomical terms, and go on with your toes.
    Alright. No more messing around. I concentrate, and describe each toe separately.
    The pinkie, the little toe of my left foot, is very timid. He always blushes when I touch him.
    Oh yes, my toes are masculine. They are not neutral. That’s why I always refer to them in the masculine third person, and not the neutral person.
    That pinkie wiggles when I hold him with two fingers to cut his nail. He tries to escape. He curls in. He hides under the toe next to him. I like that little toe. I always try not to hurt him when I cut his nail, and I never cut the nail too closely. I think he appreciates that.
    The next one, the second from the left has a bad temper. He always complains. He always argues, groans, yells, struggles when I approach him with my nail-clippers, but I ignore him and cut his nail very short.
    I don’t spend much time with this one. That toe is so recalcitrant. Têtu comme une mule , my mother would say.
    Whereas, the next one, the third starting from the left, that one, on the contrary, is very docile. Ticklish too. But he gives himself willingly to my nail-clippers, without resistance, though I can feel him squirming between my fingers. That toe knows that it is for his own good that I cut his nail. He is so sensual. He likes the things I do to him, even though he is always apprehensive.
    The fourth toe gives me trouble because his nail is so hard. I don’t know why that nail is so hard. Hard as rock. All my other toe-nails are soft