«Те, кто уходит, и те, кто остается» kitabından alıntılar, sayfa 5

What did I care anymore about his political opinions, about Pasquale and Nadia, about the death of Ulrike Meinhof, the birth of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, the electoral advances of the Communist Party? The world had retreated. I felt sunk inside myself, inside my flesh, which seemed to me not only the sole dwelling possible but also the only material for which it was worthwhile to struggle.

I seemed tranquil but I was extremely agitated, my face hurt with the effort of smiling.

Each of us narrates our life as it suits us.

"You're not happy to be getting married?" I ventured.

He looked out the window: there was lightning and thunder but still no rain. He said: "I was fine the way I was."

And so, in spite of his virtues, he was a frivolous, superficial man, an animal organism who dripped sweat and fluids and left behind, like the residue of a careless pleasure, living material conceived, nourished, shaped within female bellies.

Наверное, я в последний раз рассказываю о Лиле в подробностях. Потом она стала ускользать от меня, и мои сведения о ее жизни заметно оскудели. Наши жизни разошлись слишком далеко. Но даже несмотря на то, что мы жили в разных городах, почти не виделись, она ничего не рассказывала о себе, а я старалась не спрашивать, тень ее всегда следовала за мной, подгоняла или подавляла, переполняла гордостью или принижала, не давая мне успокоиться ни на миг.

Сейчас, когда я пишу эти строки, ее тень нужна мне, как никогда. Она нужна мне здесь и сейчас, потому я и пишу. Я хотела бы, чтоб она исправила нашу историю, что-то вычеркнула, а что-то добавила, переписала ее на свой вкус и рассказала обо всем, что знала, говорила и думала.

I felt like a drop of rain in a spiderweb, and I was careful not to slide down.

You always use true and truthfully, when you speak and when you write. Or you say: unexpectedly. But when do people ever speak truthfully and when do things ever happen unexpectedly? You know better than I that it's all a fraud and that one thing follows another and then another. I don't do anything truthfully anymore, Lenu. And I've learned to pay attention to things. Only idiots believe that they happen unexpectedly.

Брак казался мне институтом, который, вопреки расхожему мнению, убивает в сексе все человеческое.

And no one knew better than I did what it meant to make your own head masculine so that it would be accepted by the culture of men; I had done it, I was doing it.