28) “The Invisible Eye” by Erckmann-Chatrian
Note: This story was first published roughly 170 years ago and, unfortunately, displays the antisemitism and misogyny of the times.
Plot:
Christian, who narrates the story, is an artist renting an attic room in an old house on Rue des Minnesängers in Nuremberg. He has a commanding view of the area, which is handy for drawing or painting.
A dealer in novelties, Toubec, regularly buys his pieces at a steady price.
Next to the house is an inn called Boeuf-Gras (“fatted ox/bull” with ties to the Mardi Gras). Most of the translations I saw use the word “auberge” (an inn in French-speaking countries). It is noisy, with all sorts of people coming and going. Across from it is a house that looks like it, but is silent. An elderly woman comes and goes from it, always alone. Christian notes she doesn’t even have a cat.
Christian decides that she must lead “an existence devoted to good works and pious meditation.”
He passes her one day, and she gives him a horrid grimace. It unsettles Christian.
Christian mentions this experience to Toubec when he’s in his room buying pictures. Toubec tells him the woman is known as Fledermausse (“bat”) and possesses the Evil Eye. He’d better take care if she’s out for him.
Nothing much happens until one night when Christian wakes and hears “a strange harmony.” He finds it “so soft, so melodious.”
He notices a bat or a large moth flying against the window and rises to let it out. He looks down to see a man hanging from the iron stanchion that supports the signboard of the Boeuf-Gras. Glancing across the way, he sees the old woman looking down at the man with satisfaction.
Thoughts:
This little tale has a huge creepy factor and an unusual ending. If not for the complications of antisemitism and misogyny, it would be an unabashed fun read.
When Christian first sees the Fledermausse, he describes her: “her back bent into a half-circle, her chin long and pointed, her dress clinging to her limbs, an enormous basket under her arm, and one hand tightly clutched upon her chest.” He also noted “her little green eyes, her skinny, pinched-up nose, the large flower-pattern on her shawl, dating back a hundred years at least; the smile that wrinkled her cheeks, and the lace of her cap hanging down upon her eyebrows…”
She appears lonely, perhaps disabled, and Christian sees her as given over to a life of prayer (because that’s what all old ladies do?)
Toubec tells him the unfortunate man he saw hanging is the third person to hang themselves in the same place. Christian becomes convinced Fledermausse is to blame and spies on her by removing a roof tile.
I did not see the end coming, which is always nice. For the atmosphere and the didn’t-see-that-coming ending, I can recommend the story, but with some reservations.
This is a personal grumble: the anthology I read this in had a lot of annoying typos. Other stories in the same anthology have not been so plagued. Christian lived on Eue des Minnesängers rather than Rue des Minnesängers. The Fledermausse was so alone she didn’t even have “a eat,” as opposed to a cat. “Fledermausse” itself is a bit of a puzzle. The German word for bat is “Fledermaus.”
(The French word for “bat,” according to Google, is “chauve-souris,” or “bald mouse.” At least the Germans notice the mouse flies. But I digress)
Is “Fledermausse” a misspelling? An older spelling or a bit of dialect? I don’t know. I finally gave up on the blasted typos and read the story online.
This story can be read here:
This story can be listened to here: (45:50)
Bio: Émile Erckmann (1822-1899) and Alexandre Chatrian (1826-1890) were French writers and playwrights who collaborated on much of their work. However, it is now believed that Erckmann wrote the novels and Chatrian largely wrote the plays.
Among the best-known supernatural works are “L’Araignee Crabe” (“The Spider Crab”), “Le Blanc et le Noir” (“The White and Black”), and “La Maison Forestière” (“The Forest House”).
Title: “The Invisible Eye”
Author: Erckmann-Chatrian
First published: in French, “L’œil invisible ou L’auberge des trois pendus”; L’Artiste, 1857; in English, first published in Temple Bar.
