Entomophobia

A quotation from Geriub Gepleki’s diary entry and from a considerably large volume containing correspondence with his wife that was translated into Hungarian 2 years ago.

“Let us talk about hornets. I find it essential to commemorate this little insignificant creature as I myself have also been part of the most impressive manifestation of the fear today. After I read the morning papers, as usual, I left for my favourite café called Le Caffe, of which there has been written so many times by so many people and which has recently become one of the most significant places in our city, an intellectual life determining meeting place.

I was just about to order when I heard a loud noise from the door. As the sound was quite strange it clearly drew my attention. In that sacred minute, my blood froze from the sight. I have not seen such a big of its kind in my life yet, and it seemed neither have my fellow guests. For a while, my rationalistic thinking was unable to convey me that what I  really saw was what it really was.

I do not want to blow out of all proportion, but I think it might have been a 25 cm sort of its kind. First I thought of another proof of the unstoppable progress of technology and without any malice, I started to look for one of my writer friend’s naughty, spoiled son among the guests, who was supposedly trying to play a trick on us with another invention. But my assumption proved wrong this time.

Coming round from the horror, I tried to keep my composure and take the possible solutions into consideration. As for me, I apply classical tools, so I was going to stick to the use of the swatter and the newspaper in a targeted manner. Nevertheless, we cannot forget about other methods, for example, about the blessing role of the bait-bottle filled with sugary water either.

Although in the latter case I always feel sorry for the poor soul, and after watching it for a long time, the trapped, constantly attack-ready, hairy, lacking every human thinking and emotion, fearless little striped-shirted, I carefully pull out the cork in order to release my prisoner, hoping it learnt from the case, that little useless, and would stay far away from my modest home. However, in this case, nobody dared to use the aforementioned methods, so the café gradually emptied, and admitting my cowardice, I dare mention that I left the room among the first ones.

When in the afternoon I was running my errands in the neighborhood, a board hung on the front door: We are sorry to inform our honoured guests that we are closed until the death of the hornet in our café.Then I thought, after all, this creature was so beautiful that it would be worthwhile to use it as a work of art, so I am going to try to get this huge copy of the hornet in my possession as soon as possible. ”

Thus the artist abandoned using the pollen of butterflies as paint material, according to the anecdotes.

 

Éva Bora (translated by Éva Babcsányi)

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