boris k, prose

BORIS K. In the Literary Club, “The Adventures Of Boris K.”, Leila Samarrai

BORIS K. In the Literary Club



Boris K. was finally, but somewhat begrudgingly accepted into the Literary Club. By no means did he fit in, however.

First Big critic’s was transfixed on an ashtray full of Pierre Cardin cigarettes, amid debate about the essay on Leo Tolstoy, which was written for certain by Anna Karenina, and here signedly spat the phrase through his gnashed teeth:

“Levin mowing.. But WHY? ”

Boris K. could not possibly agree with the idea. He was, in fact, very fond of mowing. A former member of the Transnational Lawnmower Fan Club, he genuinely enjoyed reading the forewords. That was his favourite part of the essay.

“Therefore, the novel War and Peace is something else.”

“It describes the state of mind of man in war,” these words were huffed by another member of the club’s haughty membership.

Boris K. again could not agree less, because he always worshiped War and Peace, jumping in and out of the pages like some frantic frog, but overall, he had always been a dilettantish reader of Russian writers.

When speaking of heroes of the modern novel,they mentioned Proust, whom Boris K. always thought about too long afterward.

Boris K.,as of late, began to seriously marvel at himself as a virtuoso, a genius and a maestro, so that, seeing that everyone was at ease gabbing about the great Proust he felt helpless,  decided to take action, and mouth a word. Before he could say something, someone remarked:

“Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer.”

Boris K. was annoyed because he was once again deceived. He fumed to himself: while he did not read the Crab Story, he loved the Goat Grimoire, but…What to do now? He fell silent, and felt as if he was expected to utter some sort of wise parable. Even the great sages of old contemptuously glanced at him. Then Boris K. stood, and with thundering voice, boomed forth his life’s motto:

“Acta Non Verba”, and with a firm step, he went to the coffee machine, serving a cup of coffee in plastic cups on the big Hollywood waiter’s tray to all those present in the hall.

A bitter discussion, a Gladiatorial debate about the literature of the ancient Romans ensued. Boris K. then broached the day’s topic.