生命不能承受之轻-第37章

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The　obsession　of　the　former　is　lyrical：　what　they　seek　in　women　is　themselves；　their　ideal；　and　since　an　ideal　is　by　definition　something　that　can　never　be　found；　they　are　disappointed　again　and　again。　The　disappointment　that　propels　them　from　woman　to　woman　gives　their　inconstancy　a　kind　of　romantic　excuse；　so　that　many　sentimental　women　are　touched　by　their　unbridled　philandering。
The　obsession　of　the　latter　is　epic；　and　women　see　nothing　the　least　bit　touching　in　it：　the　man　projects　no　subjective　ideal　on　women；　and　since　everything　interests　him；　nothing　can　disappoint　him。　This　inability　to　be　disappointed　has　something　scandalous　about　it。　The　obsession　of　the　epic　womanizer　strikes　people　as　lacking　in　redemption　（redemption　by　disappointment）。
Because　the　lyrical　womanizer　always　runs　after　the　same　type　of　woman；　we　even　fail　to　notice　when　he　exchanges　one　mistress　for　another。　His　friends　perpetually　cause　misunderstandings　by　mixing　up　his　lovers　and　calling　them　by　the　same　name。
In　pursuit　of　knowledge；　epic　womanizers　（and　of　course　Tomas　belonged　in　their　ranks）　turn　away　from　conventional　feminine　beauty；　of　which　they　quickly　tire；　and　inevitably　end　up　as　curiosity　collectors。　They　are　aware　of　this　and　a　little　ashamed　of　it；　and　to　avoid　causing　their　friends　embarrassment；　they　refrain　from　appearing　in　public　with　their　mistresses。
Tomas　had　been　a　window　washer　for　nearly　two　years　when　he　was　sent　to　a　new　customer　whose　bizarre　appearance　struck　him　the　moment　he　saw　her。　Though　bizarre；　it　was　also　discreet；　understated；　within　the　bounds　of　the　agreeably　ordinary　（Tomas's　fascination　with　curiosities　had　nothing　in　common　with　Fellini's　fascination　with　monsters）：　she　was　very　tall；　quite　a　bit　taller　than　he　was；　and　she　had　a　delicate　and　very　long　nose　in　a　face　so　unusual　that　it　was　impossible　to　call　it　attractive　（everyone　would　have　protested！）；　yet　（in　Tomas's　eyes；　at　least）　it　could　not　be　called　unattractive。　She　was　wearing　slacks　and　a　white　blouse；　and　looked　like　an　odd　combination　of　giraffe；　stork；　and　sensitive　young　boy。
She　fixed　him　with　a　long；　careful；　searching　stare　that　was　not　devoid　of　irony's　intelligent　sparkle。　Come　in；　Doctor；　she　said。
Although　he　realized　that　she　knew　who　he　was；　he　did　not　want　to　show　it；　and　asked；　Where　can　I　get　some　water？　
She　opened　the　door　to　the　bathroom。　He　saw　a　washbasin；　bathtub；　and　toilet　bowl；　in　front　of　bath；　basin；　and　bowl　lay　miniature　pink　rugs。
When　the　woman　who　looked　like　a　giraffe　and　a　stork　smiled；　her　eyes　screwed　up；　and　everything　she　said　seemed　full　of　irony　or　secret　messages。
The　bathroom　is　all　yours；　she　said。　You　can　do　whatever　your　heart　desires　in　it。　
May　I　have　a　bath？　Tomas　asked。
Do　you　like　baths？　she　asked。
He　filled　his　pail　with　warm　water　and　went　into　the　living　room。　Where　would　you　like　me　to　start？　
It's　up　to　you；　she　said　with　a　shrug　of　the　shoulders。
May　I　see　the　windows　in　the　other　rooms？　
So　you　want　to　have　a　look　around？　Her　smile　seemed　to　indicate　that　window　washing　was　only　a　caprice　that　did　not　interest　her。
He　went　into　the　adjoining　room。　It　was　a　bedroom　with　one　large　window；　two　beds　pushed　next　to　each　other；　and；　on　the　wall；　an　autumn　landscape　with　birches　and　a　setting　sun。
When　he　came　back；　he　found　an　open　bottle　of　wine　and　two　glasses　on　the　table。　How　about　a　little　something　to　keep　your　strength　up　during　the　big　job　ahead？　
I　wouldn't　mind　a　little　something；　actually；　said　Tomas；　and　sat　down　at　the　table。
You　must　find　it　interesting；　seeing　how　people　live；　she　said。
I　can't　complain；　said　Tomas。　All　those　wives　at　home　alone；　waiting　for　you。　You　mean　grandmothers　and　mothers…in…law。　Don't　you　ever　miss　your　original　profession？　Tell　me；　how　did　you　find　out　about　my　original　profession？　
Your　boss　likes　to　boast　about　you；　said　the　stork…woman。　After　all　this　time！　said　Tomas　in　amazement。　When　I　spoke　to　her　on　the　phone　about　having　the　windows　washed；　she　asked　whether　I　didn't　want　you。　She　said　you　were　a　famous　surgeon　who'd　been　kicked　out　of　the　hospital。　Well；　naturally　she　piqued　my　curiosity。　
You　have　a　fine　sense　of　curiosity；　he　said。　Is　it　so　obvious？　Yes；　in　the　way　you　use　your　eyes。　And　how　do　I　use　my　eyes？　You　squint。　And　then；　the　questions　you　ask。　You　mean　you　don't　like　to　respond？　Thanks　to　her；　the　conversation　had　been　delightfully　flirtatious　from　the　outset。　Nothing　she　said　had　any　bearing　on　the　outside　world；　it　was　all　directed　inward；　towards　themselves。　And　because　it　dealt　so　palpably　with　him　and　her；　there　was　nothing　simpler　than　to　complement　words　with　touch。　Thus；　when　Tomas　mentioned　her　squinting　eyes；　he　stroked　them；　and　she　did　the　same　to　his。　It　was　not　a　spontaneous　reaction；　she　seemed　to　be　consciously　setting　up　a　do　as　I　do　kind　of　game。　And　so　they　sat　there　face　to　face；　their　hands　moving　in　stages　along　each　other's　bodies。
Not　until　Tomas　reached　her　groin　did　she　start　resisting。　He　could　not　quite　guess　how　seriously　she　meant　it。　Since　much　time　had　now　passed　and　he　was　due　at　his　next　customer's　in　ten　minutes；　he　stood　up　and　told　her　he　had　to　go。　Her　face　was　red。　I　have　to　sign　the　order　slip；　she　said。　But　I　haven't　done　a　thing；　he　objected。　That's　my　fault。　And　then　in　a　soft；　innocent　voice　she　drawled；　I　suppose　I'll　just　have　to　order　you　back　and　have　you　finish　what　I　kept　you　from　starting。　
When　Tomas　refused　to　hand　her　the　slip　to　sign；　she　said　to　him　sweetly；　as　if　asking　him　for　a　favor；　Give　it　to　me。　Please？　Then　she　squinted　again　and　added；　After　all；　I'm　not　paying　for　it；　my　husband　is。　And　you're　not　being　paid　for　it；　the　state　is。　The　transaction　has　nothing　whatever　to　do　with　the　two　of　us。　
11
The　odd　asymmetry　of　the　woman　who　looked　like　a　giraffe　and　a　stork　continued　to　excite　his　memory：　the　combination　of　the　flirtatious　and　the　gawky；　the　very　real　sexual　desire　offset　by　the　ironic　smile；　the　vulgar　conventionality　of　the　flat　and　the　originality　of　its　owner。　What　would　she　be　like　when　they　made　love？　Try　as　he　might；　he　could　not　picture　it。　He　thought　of　nothing　else　for　several　days。
The　next　time　he　answered　her　summons；　the　wine　and　two　glasses　stood　waiting　on　the　table。　And　this　time　everything　went　like　clockwork。　Before　long；　they　were　standing　face　to　face　in　the　bedroom　（where　the　sun　was　setting　on　the　birches　in　the　painting）　and　kissing。　But　when　he　gave　her　his　standard　Strip！　command；　she　not　only　failed　to　comply　but　counter…commanded；　No；　you　first！　
Unaccustomed　to　such　a　response；　he　was　somewhat　taken　aback。　She　started　to　open　his　fly。　After　ordering　Strip！　several　more　times　（with　comic　failure）；　he　was　forced　to　accept　a　compromise。　According　to　the　rules　of　the　game　she　had　set　up　during　his　last　visit　（　do　as　I　do　）；　she　took　off　his　trousers；　he　took　off　her　skirt；　then　she　took　off　his　shirt；　he　her　blouse；　until　at　last　they　stood　there　naked。　He　placed　his　hand　on　her　moist　genitals；　then　moved　his　fingers　along　to　the　anus；　the　spot　he　loved　most　in　all　women's　bodies。　Hers　was　unusually　prominent；　evoking　the　long　digestive　tract　that　ended　there　with　a　slight　protrusion。　Fingering　her　strong；　healthy　orb；　that　most　splendid　of　rings　called　by　doctors　the　sphincter；　he　suddenly　felt　her　fingers　on　the　corresponding　part　of　his　own　anatomy。　She　was　mimicking　his　moves　with　the　precision　of　a　mirror。
Even　though；　as　I　have　pointed　out；　he　had　known　approximately　two　hundred　women　（plus　the　considerable　lot　that　had　accrued　during　his　days　as　a　window　washer）；　he　had　yet　to　be　faced　with　a　woman　who　was　taller　than　he　was；　squinted　at　him；　and　fingered　his　anus。　To　overcome　his　embarrassment；　he　forced　her　down　on　the　bed。
So　precipitous　was　his　move　that　he　caught　her　off　guard。　As　her　towering　frame　fell　on　its　back；　he　caught　among　the　red　blotches　on　her　face　the　frightened　expression　of　equilibrium　lost。　Now　that　he　was　standing　over　her；　he　grabbed　her　under　the　knees　and　lifted　her　slightly　parted　legs　in　the　air；　so　that　they　suddenly　looked　like　the　raised　arms　of　a　soldier　surrendering　to　a　gun　pointed　at　him。
Clumsiness　combined　with　ardor；　ardor　with　clumsiness—　they　excited　Tomas　utt