Invitation to a Beheading

The next day, Cincinnatus wakes in his cell. The imminent arrival of Marthe makes him feel happy. This happiness is fleeting, however, as a letter arrives to inform him that such a meeting cannot take place until at least a week after the trial, which means Marthe’s visit is delayed for at least a day. Rodrig visits, reading the same letter aloud. Cincinnatus does not want to complain, though he bitterly questions whether the meeting will be canceled the following day as well. Rodrig avoids answering the question, mentioning instead that Roman is suffering from a cold.

Cincinnatus watches as Rodrig seems to transform into Rodion, who then tells Cincinnatus to exit the cell so that the guards can clean it. Cincinnatus is allowed to wander through the hallways of the fortress. As he walks, he thinks about imprisonment and freedom. He thinks about the crime of which he has been accused, “gnostical turpitude,” a rare and terrible crime that is punished by beheading. He thinks about Marthe and the world outside the fortress. In one hallway, he finds Emmie. She is bouncing a ball and eating a piece of candy. As Cincinnatus looks closer, he sees that she is standing in front of “a glazed recess, a showcase” (76), which contains a lighted picture of Tamara Gardens, a park in the city. Cincinnatus looks at the picture and wishes that he could go to the scene portrayed in it. Emmie begins to trace lines across the picture but scuttles away when she hears Rodion approaching. Cincinnatus realizes that he has circled back to the cell of the new prisoner. Rodion tells him to hurry back to his cell.

The next morning, in anticipation of Marthe’s arrival, Cincinnatus selects his best clothes. Rodion brings flowers into the cell, placing them “not quite in the center” of the table (79), and brings a chair and a stool as well. Rodrig inspects the cell at 10:00 am. He rearranges the furniture, sprays pine fragrance, then leaves to fetch Cincinnatus’s guest. This guest, however, is not Marthe. Instead, Rodrig returns with the other prisoner and introduces him as M’sieur Pierre.

Cincinnatus and Pierre talk. Cincinnatus is disappointed that Pierre is not Marthe, while Pierre’s conversation is strange though polite. Rodrig lurks in the background with a fawning expression. He watches Pierre closely. Pierre states that he is a “photography enthusiast” and shows examples of his work to Cincinnatus. Each photo is a self-portrait. Rodrig effusively praises the self-portraits. Pierre performs a magic trick with a deck of cards and follows this with an absurd joke. Rodrig is delighted, claiming that Pierre is the “life of the party” (85). Pierre assures Cincinnatus that he is both brilliant and sensitive as Cincinnatus sits and listens sullenly.

The librarian brings a selection of books for Cincinnatus. Rodrig pesters Pierre to perform the card trick again for the silent librarian, who refuses to engage and leaves. Rodrig follows the librarian out of the cell, leaving Cincinnatus alone with his guest. Cincinnatus reads a book in silence until Rodrig returns, bearing the librarian’s scarf, which he hands to Pierre. Rodrig is displeased that Cincinnatus is not participating in the conversation with his guest. Pierre gently mocks Cincinnatus for being a “little grouch,” then he and Rodrig leave. On his way out, Pierre asks Cincinnatus’s permission to visit often. After the two men exit, Rodrig briefly returns to tell Cincinnatus that he is “ashamed” of Cincinnatus’s rudeness toward Pierre. Cincinnatus is left alone in the cell. His tears fall on the pages of the book.

Cincinnatus reaches his eighth day in the cell. He writes down his experiences as he thinks about his imminent death. He still doesn’t know when he will be executed, and he fears “there will not be time enough” (90). All he truly wants is to express himself. He struggles to convey the complexity of his thoughts in writing, particularly his fears. In his dreams, he sees a real, vibrant world. He wants to write about these images and thoughts, though the words never seem sufficient.

Cincinnatus compares the frustration of not being able to express himself to lying on the ground with his eyes closed and feeling the warmth of the sun on his face as it appears from behind the clouds. In his mind, he can conceive of a world in which everyone understands exactly what he means, a perfect world in which “freaks” like him do not suffer persecution. In this world, time would mean nothing. He imagines his gardens, one of the few places where he feels genuinely uplifted. The world seems to be only a vague reflection of his vibrant thoughts.

Since he believes that there is no other human who can understand his words, he thinks “only of [himself]” as he writes (95). He has felt this way since he was a child, and now life has worn him down. He recalls the first time he felt this deep alienation. The senior educator of the school shouted at the young Cincinnatus to “go into the garden” (97). Rather than take the stairs, as would be normal, Cincinnatus instinctively stepped out of the window as the other people gazed up in horror. Rodion turns off the light in the cell, interrupting Cincinnatus’s reminiscences.