The Lost Steps

The narrator reflects on his emotional connection with music, followed by his disillusionment with modern interpretations of classical music. He returns to the symphony after a three-year hiatus, only to be disappointed by the lack of subtlety in the performance. The narrator struggles to reconcile himself to the current state of music. He leaves the performance of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony prematurely, as the intense music clashes with his longing for subtlety.

As he leaves the symphony, he bumps into an old acquaintance from the Museum of Organography, whom he refers to only as “the Curator.” The Curator presents him with a recording that supports the narrator’s theory that music’s origins are rooted in mimicking nature. Plunged once again into nostalgia and regret, the narrator remembers with frustration how the pressures of work forced him to give up on proving his theory.

When the Curator asks about his latest research, the narrator goes on a tangent laden with falsehoods and misapplied musical terms. Surprisingly, the Curator recommends him for a project to collect Indigenous American musical instruments. The narrator is initially reluctant.

The story moves to Mouche’s apartment, highlighting the narrator’s skepticism toward her interest in horoscopes and palm reading, which she turns to after losing faith in her poetic inspiration. The narrator’s relationship with Mouche, which began two years before Ruth’s absence, is marked by arguments and an inexplicable attraction.

The atmosphere shifts when Mouche enters with friends to showcase a short film the narrator worked on featuring scenes of tuna and lobsters. Although the film is well-received, and Mouche praises it, the narrator’s satisfaction is short-lived as he remembers the project’s commercial purpose—a promotional piece for the Fisheries Association. This realization dampens his sense of achievement, as he feels shame at using his musical talent in a commercial context.

The narrator shares with Mouche the curator’s offer for a research trip. Mouche’s reaction—offended that she wasn’t considered in his plans and announcing her own separate intention to go to South America—irritates the narrator.

Ultimately, seeing the curator’s offer as an opportunity to make meaningful use of his vacation, the narrator accepts the mission.

Arriving in the capital, the narrator and Mouche encounter a reporter on the plane who shares his mixed opinion of the city, which has modern features like electricity and machines set against a backdrop of ancient buildings and leaking roofs. Despite the fancy stock exchange, many areas are congested, poorly designed, and hidden from tourists. Progress in the city is represented by well-maintained lawns alongside signs of decay and neglect.

The following day, despite initially regretting the trip and feeling trapped, the narrator finds comfort in the familiar Spanish language, which awakens forgotten phrases and memories, including one of his mother cutting his blonde hair.

They visit an antique shop searching for the musical instrument, which ends in vain. The narrator becomes irritated with Mouche for choosing a souvenir to look more intellectual instead of something culturally authentic. However, the scent of basil in the shop triggers a happy childhood memory of Maria del Carmen, who was the daughter of his family’s gardener.

Tensions rise early between the narrator and Mouche, as an allergic reaction prevents him from fulfilling Mouche’s desire for sex on the first night of the vacation, leading to further discord during an opera visit. Though he expects to dislike the opera, the narrator finds it charming, contrasting Mouche’s dismissive snobbery.

The night brings a mix of nostalgia and realization for the narrator, while Mouche breaks his immersion by wanting to go back to the hotel. The narrator contemplates the constellations and Mouche’s ironic disconnect from the celestial bodies she monetizes through horoscopes. His quest for a traditional instrument becomes a solitary pursuit. He regains a sense of connection to the local culture as Spanish phrases and simple joys like the smell of bread return to him.

The narrator’s moment of peace is abruptly cut off by machine gun fire, marking the start of a revolution. Mouche’s frustration that the revolution disrupts her vacation highlights her disconnect from the severity of the situation. They laugh when they see hotel staff who had previously served them now fighting in the revolution, and later they are shocked when some of these servers are shot right in front of them.

The violence escalates, with tanks and explosions forcing the narrator and Mouche, along with other hotel guests, into lockdown. Attempting to distract themselves from the fear and uncertainty outside, they turn to alcohol, leading to a night of passion—the first night in some time that the narrator has slept soundly without drugs.

The characters’ relationships intensify during the revolution, especially the narrator’s feelings for Mouche. The guests adjust to the situation; pianists and dancers keep practicing even amid the gunfire. When the remaining wait staff leave to join the fight, the guests become anxious about their food supply. The hotel becomes infested with pests and insects, causing further discomfort.

An explosion shifts everyone’s focus to the dire situation, with a dead animal outside contributing to a foul smell and a fly infestation. Mouche complains about not having enough water for a bath after sunbathing. The narrator checks the cellar for supplies, finding enough food and wine to last for some time, leading to a short-lived celebration among the guests.

A Canadian painter tells Mouche and the narrator that the revolution is over and invites them to stay at her place in Los Altos. Skeptically, the narrator steps out for cigarettes and encounters snipers, realizing the danger hasn’t passed. His attempt to return to the hotel is fraught with danger, and he grows mistrustful of Mouche’s judgment and her inclination toward recklessness.

Back at the hotel, the Kapellmeister is killed by a stray bullet. Overwhelmed by the situation, Mouche and the narrator agree to flee to Los Altos for safety.

The narrator and Mouche accompany the Canadian painter to Los Altos. Despite its lack of monumental features, Los Altos captivates the narrator with its genuine, lively charm. Through his stream-of-consciousness reflections, the narrator‘s escalating turmoil and skepticism toward Mouche are intensified by the painter‘s control over the group and Mouche‘s uncharacteristic submission and intellectual pretensions.

Mouche‘s inability to form opinions on unfamiliar topics further irritates the narrator, who views her intellectualism as superficial. His observations extend to Mouche‘s pattern of forming intense, short-lived friendships. Mouche‘s indifference to the surrounding turmoil and her engagement with the local celebrations amplify the narrator‘s feelings of alienation, and he begins to suspect that she is having an affair.

Mouche and the narrator meet some local artists, whom the narrator dubs the “Three Wise Men.” They praise Mouche’s Parisian allure in effusive terms, prompting the narrator to question their sincerity. To divert attention from Mouche, he interjects, asking if any of the artists have ventured into the jungle. They respond dismissively, claiming that there is nothing to see there and that such trips are for “foreigners who wanted to collect bows and quivers” (73). Seeking escape, the narrator finds solace by a brook, where the authentic melody of a harpist’s performance reaffirms his commitment to artistic truth. Determined to proceed with the Curator’s mission, he purchases two bus tickets for the following morning and is resolved to continue with or without Mouche’s approval.