生命不能承受之轻-第14章

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even　weaker；　wishes　to　fall　down　in　the　middle　of　the　main　square　in　front　of　everybody；　wishes　to　be　down；　lower　than　down。
She　tried　to　talk　herself　into　settling　outside　of　Prague　and　giving　up　her　profession　as　a　photographer。　She　would　go　back　to　the　small　town　from　which　Tomas's　voice　had　once　lured　her。
But　once　in　Prague；　she　found　she　had　to　spend　some　time　taking　care　of　various　practical　matters；　and　began　putting　off　her　departure。
On　the　fifth　day；　Tomas　suddenly　turned　up。　Karenin　jumped　all　over　him；　so　it　was　a　while　before　they　had　to　make　any　overtures　to　each　other。
They　felt　they　were　standing　on　a　snow…covered　plain；　shivering　with　cold。
Then　they　moved　together　like　lovers　who　had　never　kissed　before。
Has　everything　been　all　right？　he　asked。
Yes；　she　answered。
Have　you　been　to　the　magazine？　
I've　given　them　a　call。　
Well？　
Nothing　yet。　I've　been　waiting。　
For　what？　
She　made　no　response。　She　could　not　tell　him　that　she　had　been　waiting　for　him。
29
Now　we　return　to　a　moment　we　already　know　about。　Tomas　was　desperately　unhappy　and　had　a　bad　stomachache。　He　did　not　fall　asleep　until　very　late　at　night。
Soon　thereafter　Tereza　awoke。　（There　were　Russian　airplanes　circling　over　Prague；　and　it　was　impossible　to　sleep　for　the　noise。）　Her　first　thought　was　that　he　had　come　back　because　of　her；　because　of　her；　he　had　changed　his　destiny。　Now　he　would　no　longer　be　responsible　for　her；　now　she　was　responsible　for　him。
The　responsibility；　she　felt；　seemed　to　require　more　strength　than　she　could　muster。
But　all　at　once　she　recalled　that　just　before　he　had　appeared　at　the　door　of　their　flat　the　day　before；　the　church　bells　had　chimed　six　o'clock。　On　the　day　they　first　met；　her　shift　had　ended　at　six。　She　saw　him　sitting　there　in　front　of　her　on　the　yellow　bench　and　heard　the　bells　in　the　belfry　chime　six。
No；　it　was　not　superstition；　it　was　a　sense　of　beauty　that　cured　her　of　her　depression　and　imbued　her　with　a　new　will　to　live。　The　birds　of　fortuity　had　alighted　once　more　on　her　shoulders。　There　were　tears　in　her　eyes；　and　she　was　unutterably　happy　to　hear　him　breathing　at　her　side。


PART　THREE
Words　Misunderstood

1
Geneva　is　a　city　of　fountains　large　and　small；　of　parks　where　music　once　rang　out　from　the　bandstands。　Even　the　university　is　hidden　among　trees。　Franz　had　just　finished　his　afternoon　lecture。　As　he　left　the　building；　the　sprinklers　were　spouting　jets　of　water　over　the　lawn　and　he　was　in　a　capital　mood。　He　was　on　his　way　to　see　his　mistress。　She　lived　only　a　few　streets　away。
He　often　stopped　in　for　a　visit；　but　only　as　a　friend；　never　as　a　lover。　If　he　made　love　to　her　in　her　Geneva　studio；　he　would　be　going　from　one　woman　to　the　other；　from　wife　to　mistress　and　back　in　a　single　day；　and　because　in　Geneva　husband　and　wife　sleep　together　in　the　French　style；　in　the　same　bed；　he　would　be　going　from　the　bed　of　one　woman　to　the　bed　of　another　in　the　space　of　several　hours。　And　that；　he　felt；　would　humiliate　both　mistress　and　wife　and；　in　the　end；　himself　as　well。
The　love　he　bore　this　woman；　with　whom　he　had　fallen　in　love　several　months　before；　was　so　precious　to　him　that　he　tried　to　create　an　independent　space　for　her　in　his　life；　a　restricted　zone　of　purity。　He　was　often　invited　to　lecture　at　foreign　universities；　and　now　he　accepted　all　offers。　But　because　they　were　not　enough　to　satisfy　his　new…found　wanderlust；　he　took　to　inventing　congresses　and　symposia　as　a　means　of　justifying　the　new　absences　to　his　wife。　His　mistress；　who　had　a　flexible　schedule；　accompanied　him　on　all　speaking　engagements；　real　and　imagined。　So　it　was　that　within　a　short　span　of　time　he　introduced　her　to　many　European　cities　and　an　American　one。
How　would　you　like　to　go　to　Palermo　ten　days　from　now？　asked　Franz。
I　prefer　Geneva；　she　answered。　She　was　standing　in　front　of　her　easel　examining　a　work　in　progress。
How　can　you　live　without　seeing　Palermo？　asked　Franz　in　an　attempt　at　levity。
I　have　seen　Palermo；　she　said。
You　have？　he　said　with　a　hint　of　jealousy。
A　friend　of　mine　once　sent　me　a　postcard　from　there。　It's　taped　up　over　the　toilet。　Haven't　you　noticed？　
Then　she　told　him　a　story。　Once　upon　a　time；　in　the　early　part　of　the　century；　there　lived　a　poet。　He　was　so　old　he　had　to　be　taken　on　walks　by　his　amanuensis。　'Master；'　his　amanuensis　said　one　day；　'look　what's　up　in　the　sky！　It's　the　first　airplane　ever　to　fly　over　the　city！'　'I　have　my　own　picture　of　it；'　said　the　poet　to　his　amanuensis；　without　raising　his　eyes　from　the　ground。　Well；　I　have　my　own　picture　of　Palermo。　It　has　the　same　hotels　and　cars　as　all　cities。　And　my　studio　always　has　new　and　different　pictures。　
Franz　was　sad。　He　had　grown　so　accustomed　to　linking　their　love　life　to　foreign　travel　that　his　Let's　go　to　Palermo！　was　an　unambiguous　erotic　message　and　her　I　prefer　Geneva　could　have　only　one　meaning：　his　mistress　no　longer　desired　him。
How　could　he　be　so　unsure　of　himself　with　her？　She　had　not　given　him　the　slightest　cause　for　worry！　In　fact；　she　was　the　one　who　had　taken　the　erotic　initiative　shortly　after　they　met。　He　was　a　good…looking　man；　he　was　at　the　peak　of　his　scholarly　career；　he　was　even　feared　by　his　colleagues　for　the　arrogance　and　tenacity　he　displayed　during　professional　meetings　and　colloquia。　Then　why　did　he　worry　daily　that　his　mistress　was　about　to　leave　him？
The　only　explanation　I　can　suggest　is　that　for　Franz；　love　was　not　an　extension　of　public　life　but　its　antithesis。　It　meant　a　longing　to　put　himself　at　the　mercy　of　his　partner。　He　who　gives　himself　up　like　a　prisoner　of　war　must　give　up　his　weapons　as　well。　And　deprived　in　advance　of　defense　against　a　possible　blow；　he　cannot　help　wondering　when　the　blow　will　fall。　That　is　why　I　can　say　that　for　Franz；　love　meant　the　constant　expectation　of　a　blow。
While　Franz　attended　to　his　anguish；　his　mistress　put　down　her　brush　and　went　into　the　next　room。　She　returned　with　a　bottle　of　wine。　She　opened　it　without　a　word　and　poured　out　two　glasses。
Immediately　he　felt　relieved　and　slightly　ridiculous。　The　I　prefer　Geneva　did　not　mean　she　refused　to　make　love；　quite　the　contrary；　it　meant　she　was　tired　of　limiting　their　lovemaking　to　foreign　cities。
She　raised　her　glass　and　emptied　it　in　one　swig。　Franz　did　the　same。　He　was　naturally　overjoyed　that　her　refusal　to　go　to　Palermo　was　actually　a　call　to　love；　but　he　was　a　bit　sorry　as　well：　his　mistress　seemed　determined　to　violate　the　zone　of　Purity　he　had　introduced　into　their　relationship；　she　had　failed　to　understand　his　apprehensive　attempts　to　save　their　love　from　banality　and　separate　it　radically　from　his　conjugal　home。
The　ban　on　making　love　with　his　painter…mistress　in　Geneva　was　actually　a　self…inflicted　punishment　for　having　married　another　woman。　He　felt　it　as　a　kind　of　guilt　or　defect。　Even　though　his　conjugal　sex　life　was　hardly　worth　mentioning；　he　and　his　wife　still　slept　in　the　same　bed；　awoke　in　the　middle　of　the　night　to　each　other's　heavy　breathing；　and　inhaled　the　smells　of　each　other's　body。　True；　he　would　rather　have　slept　by　himself；　but　the　marriage　bed　is　still　the　symbol　of　the　marriage　bond；　and　symbols；　as　we　know；　are　inviolable。
Each　time　he　lay　down　next　to　his　wife　in　that　bed；　he　thought　of　his　mistress　imagining　him　lying　down　next　to　his　wife　in　that　bed；　and　each　time　he　thought　of　her　he　felt　ashamed。　That　was　why　he　wished　to　separate　the　bed　he　slept　in　with　his　wife　as　far　as　possible　in　space　from　the　bed　he　made　love　in　with　his　mistress。
His　painter…mistress　poured　herself　another　glass　of　wine；　drank　it　down；　and　then；　still　silent　and　with　a　curious　nonchalance；　as　if　completely　unaware　of　Franz's　presence；　slowly　removed　her　blouse。　She　was　behaving　like　an　acting　student　whose　improvisation　assignment　is　to　make　the　class　believe　she　is　alone　in　a　room　and　no　one　can　see　her。
Standing　there　in　her　skirt　and　bra；　she　suddenly　（as　if　recalling　only　then　that　she　was　not　alone　in　the　room）　fixed　Franz　with　a　long　stare。
That　stare　bewildered　him；　he　could　not　understand　it。　All　lovers　unconsciously　establish　their　own　rules　of　the　game；　which　from　the　outset　admit　no　transgression。　The　stare　she　had　just　fixed　on　him　fell　outside　their　rules；　it　had　nothing　in