Page 176 - The Grotesque Children's Book

Chapter 11.
The Interpreting Begins

The night of Santi’s murder, that is to say

August 16, 1581

As Aurelio sat trying to decipher the folio of grotesque children’s stories which Santi had
written and illustrated, Aurelio wanted rather desperately for someone, anyone, to talk to. He
initially conjured the sardonic figure of Jupiter from his ceiling frescoes, but the haughty god
turned out to be surprisingly ignorant of iconography in art, and so couldn’t really engage with
Aurelio trying to decipher Santi’s clues. Aurelio conjured one of his satyrs, but that fellow
proved more interested in chasing imaginary dresden shepherdesses. No, thought Aurelio, I’m

conjuring all the wrong personages. I need a fellow painter. I’ll conjure Tozzo!

Aurelio summoned forth his fellow apprentice, Tozzo Scatenarsi, sitting near the foot-
stove to stay warm, nursing a bottle of expensive liquor, eager to bandy about possible
interpretations of Santi’s folio. Sadly, Aurelio discovered, even in fantastical re-creation poor
Tozzo turned out to be somewhat of a half-wit. Still, thought Aurelio, better than no one at all.

So. Aurelio imagined the following scene, as though it were a play on a stage:

(Mechanicals cease their Prologue, and move stage scenery to reveal a humble room in
mid-sixteenth-century Florence, Italy. A young deaf artist, Aurelio DeSolo, sits near his
foot-stove, contemplating a hastily-made hand-written folio on cheap paper. Near him is an
imaginary figure, a conjuring of a fellow painter whom we will call Half-Wit Tozzo.)

Aurelio: So, Tozzo.

Tozzo: What’s that, Aurelio?

Aurelio: Santi dropped this folio on my doorstep, right?

Tozzo: I wasn’t there, so I don’t know.

Aurelio: But why else would it have appeared on my doorstep? It’s obvious.

Tozzo: Not to me, it’s not.

Aurelio: I’m wondering whether I’m the horse in this story; maybe I’m Bartolomeo.

Tozzo: You think you’re a horse.

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