Obs: texts in off - normal
dialogues - italics
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In the mother church birth register of Silvestre Ferraz, nowadays named Carmo
de Minas, I find, beside my own, my parents’ names: Eugênio Álvares Rubião and
Maria Antonieta Ferreira Rubião. 1916.
My father, a man of good humanistic culture, was a philologist and a member
of the Academy of Letters of Minas Gerais. In spite of being a grammarian, his
writings were of rare elegance. I inherited from him my shyness and a certain formal
behaviour, which has kept me away from sharing the sympathy of many. Some of
them women, what is regretful.
I lived in Belo Horizonte for twenty-five years. Some of them happy, some
sad. There I intend to die. At the cemetery of Bonfim, if it is not too much bother to
those who survive me.
I attended public school, secondary school and the Faculty of Law, and I can
say, without a shred of pride, that I never was the best student in any subject.
As a writer, I have been somehow successful in the bureaucracy of letters.
Three times president of the Brazilian Society of Writers ( Section of Minas Gerais)
and vice-president of the 1st Brazilian Congress of Writers.
It took me seven years to write and publish my first book “The Ex- Magician”.
Not a reason to make it any better.
I started to earn my living early. I worked in a candy store, sold scientific
books, was a teacher, a journalist, the director of a newspaper and of a radio station.
Today I am public office employee.
Celibate and with no religious belief. Two serious gaps in my character. I,
however, nourish a solid hope that one day I will convert myself to Catholicism
before death comes to me.
I could tell a lot about my preferences, about my loneliness, about my sincere
esteem for the human kind, about my persistence in having little hair and an
excessive moustache. But, my greatest boredom is still talking about my own self.
September 1949.
(Part 1: Empty tavern)
Today I am a public office employee and this is not my greatest distress.
One day I happened to face my gray hair in the mirror of Minhota Tavern. The
discovery did not surprise me and neither did I get astonished when I took the owner
of the restaurant out of my pocket.
Tavern owner: But how have you done that? I was in the kitchen giving
... How have you managed to do it?
In such situation, what could one, who does not find any explanation for one’s
presence in the world, reply?
Tavern owner: Anyway, that is not important at all. Where do you work?
Magician: I don’t know. I just know I’m tired. I was born bored and tired.
Tavern owner: But you, sir... a great artist! You sure must have other tricks!?
(Part 2- Lively Tavern)
Tavern owner: Didn’t I tell you? My customers are three times as many as they
were before. My tavern has turned into a big party!
Circus manager: I cannot believe you have called me here to hand over your
best trump.
Tavern owner: That’s right, the number of my customers has really increased, but
not the profit. He has the strangest habit of giving free lunch and drinks out to the
audience. I tried to make him quit such
practice but he does not always have
control over his magic.
Circus manager: Wonderful!
The man did not like my practice of offering the customers free lunch, which I
mysteriously drew out of my coat.
Considering that increasing the number of customers without consequently raising
the profit is not very good business, he introduced me to the entrepreneur of Circus
Park Andaluz.
(Part 3- Creatures:)
Sometimes, distracted, he opened his hands, weird things slipped from them.
Surrounded by strange figures, he did not know what to do with them.
Happenings to make anyone get desperate, mainly a bored magician tired of his art.
(Part 4- Circus:)
Master of Ceremonies (MC): Ladies and gentlemen! Circus Park Andaluz is
honoured to present the magnificent magician of Minhota Tavern!
The manager of the circus got really annoyed at my unconcern about the applause of
the audience, specially if it were from the little children who had come to give me a
good hand in the Sunday afternoon shows.
Why should I be touched, if those innocent faces, destined to go through all the
suffering that comes along with the maturing of men, did not cause me to feel any
Neither could I think of hating them for they had everything I had always pursued: a
birth and a past.
(Part 5- coffee bar:)
My performances became a great audience success. As my popularity increased, my
life became unbearable.
I had no control over my magic. I could do nothing. My eyes begged for help which
could not come from anywhere.
I looked down in low spirits and grumbled at the world and at the birds.
(Part 6 - Police Station:)
Police officer: (on the phone) No, man ... you’re the detective. Solve it right
there. Don’t bring it over here. (to the magician) But you’re causing me
trouble again. I’ve already told you that it’s forbidden to release
squares and streets.
Magician: I am sorry, sir, but I am a magician. I promise I will behave, I will
not disturb anyone else again. I’ll put an end to that.
Police officer: I hope so. And so long ...
(Part 7 - Bedroom:)
Magician: What are you waiting for, you stupid animal?!
Lion: Set me free!
(Part 8 - Park:)
Despair, despair.
I, who was able to create other beings, did not find ways to free myself of my own
A sentence I had heard quite by chance brought me a new hope to definitively break
away from my suffering.
Man 1: Being a public office employee is to kill yourself little by little.
Man 2: What? What did you say?
Man 1: Being a public office employee is to kill yourself little by little.
(Part 9 -Public Office:)
Bitter year. It was longer than the ones to come after the first manifestation I had had
of my existence, in front of the mirror of Minhota Tavern.
I did not die, as I expected. Greater were my afflictions, greater was my distress.
When I was a magician, I hardly ever had to deal with men - the stage kept me away
from them. Now, as I was obliged to a constant contact with my fellow creatures, I
needed to understand them, to disguise the nausea they caused me.
The worst is that, as my work was litttle, I found myself in the contingency of having
nothing to do for many long hours. And the idleness drove me to indignation against
the lack of a past. Why was I the only one, among all those who lived within my
sight, that did not have anything to recollect? My days floated by confusedly, mixed
up with poor remembrances, little balance left over three years of life.
The love aroused in me by a workmate, whose desk was next to mine, distracted me
from my unrest.
Momentary distraction. My uneasiness was soon back, I struggled against
uncertainties. How to declare to my mate? If I had never declared love to anyone and
had not even had a single emotional experience?
The new year began sadly, with threats of collective dismissal in the Secretary and
the typist’s refusal to accept me. Facing the possibility of being fired, I tried to
protect my interests (I did not care much about the job. I was just afraid of staying
away from the woman who had rejected me, but whose presence was now
indispensable to me).
Magician: I’ve heard about the dismissals. I would like to remind you that I cannot
be laid off. I cannot be fired. I’ve been working here for ten
years and I have
acquired the right to a steady job.
Office manager: You know, your cynicism really amazes me. I could never imagine
that someone who has had a job for one year would dare to
say he has had it for
Magician: It is true, sir, I can prove it ...
Office manager: Your breast is like ... What the hell is this? What kind of joke is
(Part 10 - End:)
Nowadays, without the old and miraculous gifts of a wizard, I cannot abandon the
worst of all human occupations. The love of my mate and the presence of my friends
are missing. They think I am mad.
Illusion does not offer me any comfort. It only helps to make the regret at not having
created a whole magic world greater.
For some moments, I wonder how wonderful it would be to draw red, blue, white,
green kerchieves from the body. To turn my face to the sky and let a rainbow come
out of my mouth. A rainbow that would go over the earth from one end to the other.
And applause of the white-headed men, of the sweet little children.