"Avram Davidson - The Montavarde Camera" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Avram)

defenders, is perhaps the first war photograph ever taken; it is usually, and wrongly, called a
Daguerrotype. Perhaps not more than six or eight, altogether, of MontavardeтАЩs pictures are known to the
general public, and all are famous for that peculiar luminous quality that seems to come from some
unknown source within the scene. Collins was also aware that several more Montavardes in the
possession of collectors of the esoteric and erotic could not be published or displayed. One of the most
famous of these is the so-called La Messe Noire.
The renegade priest of Lyons, Duval, who was in the habit of conducting the Black Mass of the
Demonolaters, used for some years as his тАЬaltarтАЭ the naked body of the famous courtesan, La
Manchette. It was this scene that Montavarde was reputed to have photographed. Like many popular
women of her type, La Manchette might have eventually retired to grow roses and live to a great age,
had she not been murdered by one of her numerous lovers. MontavardeтАЩs photographs of the guillotine
(The Widow) before and after the execution, had been banned by the French censor under Louis
Napoleon as a matter of public policy.

All this is a digression, of course. These asides are mentioned because they were known to Mr. Lucius
Collins, and largely explained his awe and reverence on seeing theтАФpresumablyтАФsame camera which
had photographed these scenes.

тАЬHow did you get this?тАЭ he asked, not troubling to suppress or conceal his eagerness.

тАЬFor more than thirty years,тАЭ explained the proprietor, тАЬit was the property of a North American. He
came to London, met with financial reverses and pawned his equipment. He did not know, one assumes,
that it was the Montavarde camera. Nor did he redeem. I had little or no competition at the auction.
Later I heard he had gone back to America, or done away with himself, some said; but no matter: the
camera was a ban marche. I never expected to see it again. I sold it soon after, but the payments were
not kept up, and so here it is.тАЭ

On hearing that the camera could be purchased, Mr. Collins began to treat for its sale (though he knew
he could really not afford to buy) and would not take no for an answer. In short, an agreement was
drawn up, whereby he was to pay a certain sum down, and something each month for eight months.

тАЬShall I make out the check in pounds or in guineas?тАЭ he asked.

тАЬGuineas, of course. I do not consider myself a tradesman.тАЭ The slender gentleman smiled and fingered
his watchchain as Mr. Collins drew out his checkbook.

тАЬWhat name am I to write, sir? I do notтАФтАЭ

тАЬMy name, sir, is Azel. The initials, A. A. Ah. just so. Can you manage the camera by yourself? Then I
bid you a good evening, Mr. Collins. You have made a rare acquisition, indeed. Allow me to open the
door.тАЭ

Mr. Collins brought his purchase home in a four-wheeler, and spent the rest of the evening dusting and
polishing. Mrs. Collins, a wispy, weedy little figure, who wore her hair in what she imagined was the
manner of the Princess of WalesтАФMrs. Collins had a cold, as usual. She agreed that the camera was in
excellent condition, but, with a snuffle, she pointed out that he had spent far too much money on it. In her
younger days, as one of the Misses Wilkins, she had done quite a good bit of amateur photography
herself, but she had given it up because it cost far too much money.

She repeated her remarks some evenings later when her brother, the Reverend Wycliffe Wilkins, made