The Infinite Matrix | Michael Swanwick & Francisco Goya | The Sleep Of

Reason 30

09.19.02

the sleep of reason

by Michael Swanwick

with illustrations by

Francisco JosÉ de Goya y Lucientes

Click image to enlarge

Digital image © copyright

Davison Art Center,

Wesleyan University

DAC permission required

for any other use.

30. [Plate 31]

Grace and Elena

Only once in her life was Grace, however briefly, happy. That was when

she whored in Elena's bordello. Elena had, for her happy end in life, the

complete and utter destruction of all men whatsoever. But, realizing that

even as omnicompetent a woman as herself couldn't pull off so great a job

alone, she'd decided to create a franchise.

Most bordellos are plain and functional, factory farms for sex. Not

Elena's. Hers was a romantic place, filled with roses, fine wine, and

soft music. Her whores weren't lined up for the customer's inspection,

like so many slabs of meat. Rather, one came upon them as if by chance,

opening a door to discover a young and innocent beauty caught in the act

of putting on her stockings. She looked up, eyes widening in surprise ?

and desire.

Okay, okay, it was just a paid performance. So was Romeo and Juliet. Rare

was the man who could visit Elena's house three times without falling in

love once. And after Elena's girls had them by the heartstrings, their

mistress knew where to apply the knife.

Of all Elena's whores, the one men fell in love with most consistently

was Grace. She was an emotional mess. She smelled like trouble. She was

catnip to them.

Every night men fell in love with Grace, and she of course with them. She

would agree to elope and specify a time and place, where her suitor would

discover not her own pliant self but a well-armed rival for her

affections, who also expected her to run away with him. Then, afterwards,

she would be overcome with remorse.

"Oh, I am such a bad person!" she'd wail. "How could I betray my one true

love?" Though she was never sure which of the two she meant.

Elena would comfort her then, stroking her long, fine hair and making

shushing noises. Gently she'd massage Grace's shoulders. With infinite

tact, she'd caress Grace's breasts, slide a hand up her skirts and

between her legs, and trace a moist tongue through the labyrinth of her

ear.

Inevitably, they'd wind up making love. Inevitably, Grace would fall in

love with Elena for the seventh time that week. Inevitably, she woke up

in the morning joyful and filled with zeal to destroy men for Elena's

sake.

It felt strange to Elena to see somebody rendered radiantly happy by

having sex with her. But she finally decided that, because it was only a

woman, it didn't really count.

After all, nothing that women do really counts, does it?

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This is the 30th of 80 stories by Michael Swanwick written to accompany

Francisco Goya's Los Caprichos. For a listing of the most recently

available stories, go to The Sleep of Reason.

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