Bossa Nova: The Story of the Brazilian Music That Seduced the World Read Free Page B

retaliation. The São Francisco was cruel. It would burst its banks without warning, even if it hadn’t rained, and among other reprobate qualities (piranhas, for example), it would flood only the poor areas—being careful to spare the Praça da Matriz, one of the few tree-lined areas of Juazeiro, where the comparatively wealthy preferred to live.
    The square obviously owed its name to the parish church of Our Lady of the Grottos, which, according to the memories of even those citizens who were then already old-timers in Juazeiro, had been under repair as long as people could remember. The boys of the town, Joãozinho’s friends, nicknamed the church “The Unfinished Symphony,” because it was as if that skeleton of girders and scaffolding had become a part of the façade, and the works would never be finished while the old parish priest was still able to wheedle money from the congregation.
    One of the benefactors of the church construction project was Mr. Juveniano de Oliveira, Joãozinho’s father. As Catholic as they come, he would even have made a donation toward an effort to remove the dandruff from the parish priest’s cassock. Mr. Juveniano attributed to divine intervention the fact that, despite having only a primary school education, he had become one of the wealthiest businessmen in Juazeiro. But his business acumen also helped. He began with a fabric store, expanded into the grain industry, became the owner of several barges on the São Francisco river, and, in partnership with his brother Walter, bought two or three farms and even owned an islet on the river. As if that weren’t enough, his company, Oliveira & Brother, held the representation rights of Anglo-American Petroleum for the entire region of São Francisco. The only thing left to do to crown his career was to become a Rotarian. With all this activity,Mr. Juveniano still found time to play amateur
cavaquinho
and saxophone, and to be the official moving spirit of the century-old 22nd-of-March Band in Barro Vermelho, in the neighboring district of Curaça.
    Mr. Juveniano lived in Praça da Matriz, in a large one-story house that was always freshly painted, and filled with new children and antique furniture. He could be seen daily on his way to work, lean, fair-skinned, loose-limbed, and dapper, in his shirts with starched collars, the cuffs fastened with wrist-studs. An unfair rumor circulated about him, that he used high-falutin words to talk about mundane matters. One of the stories was that, before owning a barge service and therefore being able to cross the São Francisco for free, at whatever time he chose, he would approach the ferryman and ask, “My highly esteemed ferryman, how much will you charge to take me from this pole to that hemisphere?”—referring to Petrolina, which, despite being located in the state of Pernambuco, was merely on the other side of the river.
    His pseudo-erudite patois did not disguise the fact that Mr. Juveniano had no more than an elementary school education, but the truth was that he
was
a wealthy man in Juazeiro. What those who envied him couldn’t understand was how, despite being somewhat countrified, he was able to get married for the second time (he was a widower from his first marriage) to the beautiful and refined Dona Patu of Salvador. Their amazement derived from the fact that she was beautiful and refined, and her relatives, from the influential Viana family, included doctors, politicians, and directors of chic clubs in the capital, like the Bahia Tennis Club and the Yacht Club. Dona Patu was a woman who commanded respect: austere and haughty, she would cross the street with a short, hurried step, greeting people, but without stopping to engage in conversation. Families would go to visit her, taking advantage of the opportunity to admire her embroidery. Occasionally, when she served lunch at her home, she would offer the guests lavender water, and some of them would embarrass themselves by drinking