In Search of Klingsor. Jorge Volpi
had never been apart for such a long period. And with each passing day it became more and more difficult. It was a kind of race, and the winner would simply be the one whose willpower and tenacity held out longer (later on, Bacon would liken it to the race between Achilles and the Tortoise, his fate being that of the Tortoise). Fully aware that this challenge would determine the course of the rest of her adult life, Elizabeth decided she was prepared to go the distance. Whenever a bout of anxiety would weaken her resolve and tempt her to call him, she consoled herself with the reminder that he was surely suffering the very same anguish as a result of their separation.
A nightmare was what finally broke her will. In it, she fell victim to a horrible sickness, and instead of lamenting her death, Bacon went out and celebrated it! Elizabeth woke up in tears, convinced that her dream was a sign that her strategy was failing. What if he didn’t come after her? If he never really loved her in the first place? For the first time in her life she regretted her intransigence and hot temper; perhaps she had demanded too much of him. She loved him. She loved him more than before, more than she ever had. She thought of how stupid she had been. Why wait and become embittered by this separation? Why had she tested their love at all, when all she wanted was to have him by her side? Pride and vanity had no right to keep them apart! But there was still a chance to make amends for her mistake.
The morning after her nightmare, Elizabeth decided it was time to make peace with Bacon. By the time she arrived at Bacon’s house, it was eleven in the morning—he would be at the institute, naturally. She could barely move as she struggled beneath the packages piled high in her arms. From a distance, her slow, teetering walk evoked that of a robot in a science fiction movie. In her arms she carried wine and cheese, fruit, balloons, and even an adorable model train. In spite of the fact that she had never before set foot in Bacon’s apartment (she preferred him either to visit her at her home or to meet her at cafeterias and restaurants), from the beginning of their relationship she had insisted that he give her a key. Now she was ready to use that little device to surprise him, to delight him, and to convince him that the time had come for their reconciliation.
The lecture hall was filled to capacity. Bacon was certain, however, that only a small fraction of the audience would be able to understand the true significance of the words that fell from Kurt Gödel’s lips with such surprising ease. Veblen and Von Neumann were sitting in the first row, watching as Gödel shuffled around with the grace of a hippopotamus, scrawling formulas onto the blackboard like a caveman making stick drawings of a buffalo on a cave wall. The mathematician looked frightened, and he made every effort not to look directly at his audience, losing himself in the infinity point above the back wall of the room. That day, Gödel had turned his attention, and that of his audience, to the problem known as the continuum hypothesis, sketched out by the mathematician Georg Cantor in his set theory.
“Cantor’s continuum hypothesis,” he said softly, as if he were the only one in the auditorium, “can be reduced to this simple question: How many points are there in a straight line on a Euclidean plane?” Gödel waited for a moment, as if to allow the question to seep into his mind before tossing it back out like a giant marble. “Obviously, this question is only possible when we extend the concept of the word number to infinite sets.”
All of a sudden, Gödel stopped cold in his tracks, unable to comprehend why someone would interrupt his lecture. A heavy wooden door opened and then slammed shut, producing a resounding thud that destroyed the otherworldly mood that had settled over Gödel’s audience. Veblen and the other professors rose from their seats, while all eyes focused on the woman who had suddenly burst into the lecture hall.
“Where are you?” she screamed, unfazed by the strangers witnessing the scene. Every last bit of Elizabeth’s beauty had evaporated and what was left was a cold scowl as she scanned the rows for the face of her double-crossing fiancé. “You lied to me! Admit it!”
Seated in the back row, Bacon made out the silhouette of Elizabeth. He didn’t know what to do, whether to stand up and try to calm her down, or try to hide from her wrath altogether. Elizabeth, meanwhile, remained utterly indifferent to the suddenly uncomfortable atmosphere in the auditorium. Gödel was horrified.
Veblen quickly admonished her: “For goodness’ sake, miss, I don’t know who you are or whom you are looking for, but this is a university lecture. I must ask you to leave immediately, so the professor may continue his presentation.”
Elizabeth did not hear a word. She was too busy searching for her terrorized victim.
“Don’t try to hide!” she screamed. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out? That you could keep seeing that whore? How stupid do you think I am?”
“Elizabeth, please,” begged Bacon. Painfully aware of his audience, he tried his best to placate his fiancée. “We’ll fix all this later.”
“Later? Forget about later! I’m not going anywhere until you start explaining!” And she began to advance toward him, her face stained with tears that were as hot as the anger Bacon was beginning to feel.
“Mr. Bacon,” said Veblen pointedly, gesturing toward the exit. “Would you please explain to this young lady that we are in the middle of a very important lecture? Do you understand?”
By this time, Elizabeth was face-to-face with her fiancé. When he took her by the arm and tried to direct her toward the back of the lecture hall, she responded with a resonant slap across the face. The entire audience—with the exception of Gödel—breathed a prolonged oh! at the sound made by her hand, like that of a flyswatter slamming against a windowpane. Unable to endure any more humiliation, without even thinking, Bacon responded in kind. His blow was much less powerful but, due to an unfortunate matter of acoustics, much louder.
“This is unacceptable, Bacon!” Veblen exploded, though next to him Von Neumann let out an amused chuckle. “I will ask you again to please leave this room so we can go on.”
Elizabeth, stung by the slap, was not aware of what was happening around her. She had single-handedly caused a most disastrous scene which now felt more like a hazy, chaotic nightmare. The only thing she wanted was to embrace Bacon and fall into a long, deep sleep by his side. At the front of the lecture hall, Gödel watched the scene unfold in a state of complete and utter shock.
“You let her into your house,” Elizabeth sobbed as Bacon guided her toward the exit amid the stares of his colleagues. “You had that whore in your house.”
The last thing Bacon was able to see before leaving the auditorium was the furious face of Professor Veblen, which wordlessly told him that his currently favorable position and his no less brilliant future at the institute were both ruined. As he supported the exhausted body of his fiancée (now his ex-fiancée, he told himself), Bacon could scarcely begin to fathom the manifold consequences of the scene. Suddenly the three stable elements of his life—Elizabeth, the institute, and, yes, even Vivien—had crashed into each other like runaway trains. What would Von Neumann think of this, the unforeseeable outcome of his romantic games? Bacon led Elizabeth to a nearby room and sat her down in a chair. He remained there for a while, not touching or hugging her. He waited for a few minutes more. When she came to, she insulted him again and then, still trembling, got up and left the institute alone.
Meanwhile, back in the auditorium Professor Gödel made the announcement that he would be unable to continue with his lecture, and then he began to cry uncontrollably until Von Neumann walked up to the lectern to console him.
HYPOTHESIS V: On Bacons Departure for Germany
When Bacon returned to the institute a few days later, he went straight to Frank Aydelotte’s office. Aydelotte, the institute’s director and Flexner’s successor, had been looking everywhere for Bacon. Bacon had no idea what fate this meeting would hold for him, though he was reasonably certain it was nothing positive. He figured it to be somewhere between a strong reprimand and unequivocal expulsion. To make matters worse, he had another of his terrible migraines. He felt as if