生命不能承受之轻-第8章

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　had　gone　through　in　her　lifetime；　the　second　was　images　of　her　execution　and　came　in　countless　variations；　the　third　was　of　her　life　after　death；　when　humiliation　turned　into　a　never…ending　state。
The　dreams　left　nothing　to　be　deciphered。　The　accusation　they　leveled　at　Tomas　was　so　clear　that　his　only　reaction　was　to　hang　his　head　and　stroke　her　hand　without　a　word。
The　dreams　were　eloquent；　but　they　were　also　beautiful。　That　aspect　seems　to　have　escaped　Freud　in　his　theory　of　dreams。　Dreaming　is　not　merely　an　act　of　communication　（or　coded　communication；　if　you　like）；　it　is　also　an　aesthetic　activity；　a　game　of　the　imagination；　a　game　that　is　a　value　in　itself。　Our　dreams　prove　that　to　imagine—to　dream　about　things　that　have　not　happened—is　among　mankind's　deepest　needs。　Herein　lies　the　danger。　If　dreams　were　not　beautiful；　they　would　quickly　be　forgotten。　But　Tereza　kept　coming　back　to　her　dreams；　running　through　them　in　her　mind；　turning　them　into　legends。　Tomas　lived　under　the　hypnotic　spell　cast　by　the　excruciating　beauty　of　Tereza's　dreams。
Dear　Tereza；　sweet　Tereza；　what　am　I　losing　you　to？　he　once　said　to　her　as　they　sat　face　to　face　in　a　wine　cellar。　Every　night　you　dream　of　death　as　if　you　really　wished　to　quit　this　world。　。　。　。　
It　was　day；　reason　and　will　power　were　back　in　place。　A　drop　of　red　wine　ran　slowly　down　her　glass　as　she　answered。　There's　nothing　I　can　do　about　it；　Tomas。　Oh；　I　understand。　I　know　you　love　me。　I　know　your　infidelities　are　no　great　tragedy　。。。　
She　looked　at　him　with　love　in　her　eyes；　but　she　feared　the　night　ahead；　feared　her　dreams。　Her　life　was　split。　Both　day　and　night　were　competing　for　her。
17
Anyone　whose　goal　is　something　higher　must　expect　some　day　to　suffer　vertigo。　What　is　vertigo？　Fear　of　falling？　Then　why　do　we　feel　it　even　when　the　observation　tower　comes　equipped　with　a　sturdy　handrail？　No；　vertigo　is　something　other　than　the　fear　of　falling。　It　is　the　voice　of　the　emptiness　below　us　which　tempts　and　lures　us；　it　is　the　desire　to　fall；　against　which；　terrified；　we　defend　ourselves。
The　naked　women　marching　around　the　swimming　pool；　the　corpses　in　the　hearse　rejoicing　that　she；　too；　was　dead—　these　were　the　down　below　she　had　feared　and　fled　once　before　but　which　mysteriously　beckoned　her。　These　were　her　vertigo：　she　heard　a　sweet　（almost　joyous）　summons　to　renounce　her　fate　and　soul。　The　solidarity　of　the　soulless　calling　her。　And　in　times　of　weakness；　she　was　ready　to　heed　the　call　and　return　to　her　mother。　She　was　ready　to　dismiss　the　crew　of　her　soul　from　the　deck　of　her　body；　ready　to　descend　to　a　place　among　her　mother's　friends　and　laugh　when　one　of　them　broke　wind　noisily；　ready　to　march　around　the　pool　naked　with　them　and　sing。
18
True；　Tereza　fought　with　her　mother　until　the　day　she　left　home；　but　let　us　not　forget　that　she　never　stopped　loving　her。　She　would　have　done　anything　for　her　if　her　mother　had　asked　in　a　loving　voice。　The　only　reason　she　found　the　strength　to　leave　was　that　she　never　heard　that　voice。
When　Tereza's　mother　realized　that　her　aggressiveness　no　longer　had　any　power　over　her　daughter；　she　started　writing　her　querulous　letters；　complaining　about　her　husband；　her　boss；　her　health；　her　children；　and　assuring　Tereza　she　was　the　only　person　left　in　her　life。　Tereza　thought　that　at　last；　after　twenty　years；　she　was　hearing　the　voice　of　her　mother's　love；　and　felt　like　going　back。　All　the　more　because　she　felt　so　weak；　so　debilitated　by　Tomas's　infidelities。　They　exposed　her　powerlessness；　which　in　turn　led　to　vertigo；　the　insuperable　longing　to　fall。
One　day　her　mother　phoned　to　say　she　had　cancer　and　only　a　few　months　to　live。　The　news　transformed　into　rebellion　Tereza's　despair　at　Tomas's　infidelities。　She　had　betrayed　her　mother；　she　told　herself　reproachfully；　and　for　a　man　who　did　not　love　her。　She　was　willing　to　forget　everything　her　mother　had　done　to　torture　her。　She　was　in　a　position　to　understand　her　now；　they　were　in　the　same　situation：　her　mother　loved　her　stepfather　just　as　Tereza　loved　Tomas；　and　her　stepfather　tortured　her　mother　with　his　infidelities　just　as　Tomas　galled　her　with　his。　The　cause　of　her　mother's　malice　was　that　she　had　suffered　so。
Tereza　told　Tomas　that　her　mother　was　ill　and　that　she　would　be　taking　a　week　off　to　go　and　see　her。　Her　voice　was　full　of　spite。
Sensing　that　the　real　reason　calling　her　back　to　her　mother　was　vertigo；　Tomas　opposed　the　trip。　He　rang　up　the　hospital　in　the　small　town。　Meticulous　records　of　the　incidence　of　cancer　were　kept　throughout　the　country；　so　he　had　no　trouble　finding　out　that　Tereza's　mother　had　never　been　suspected　of　having　the　disease　nor　had　she　even　seen　a　doctor　for　over　a　year。
Tereza　obeyed　Tomas　and　did　not　go　to　visit　her　mother。　Several　hours　after　the　decision　she　fell　in　the　street　and　injured　her　knee。　She　began　to　teeter　as　she　walked；　fell　almost　daily；　bumped　into　things　or；　at　the　very　least；　dropped　objects。
She　was　in　the　grip　of　an　insuperable　longing　to　fall。　She　lived　in　a　constant　state　of　vertigo。
Pick　me　up；　is　the　message　of　a　person　who　keeps　falling。　Tomas　kept　picking　her　up；　patiently。

19
I　want　to　make　love　to　you　in　my　studio。　It　will　be　like　a　stage　surrounded　by　people。　The　audience　won't　be　allowed　up　close；　but　they　won't　be　able　to　take　their　eyes　off　us。。。。　
As　time　passed；　the　image　lost　some　of　its　original　cruelty　and　began　to　excite　Tereza。　She　would　whisper　the　details　to　him　while　they　made　love。
Then　it　occurred　to　her　that　there　might　be　a　way　to　avoid　the　condemnation　she　saw　in　Tomas's　infidelities：　all　he　had　to　do　was　take　her　along；　take　her　with　him　when　he　went　to　see　his　mistresses！　Maybe　then　her　body　would　again　become　the　first　and　only　among　all　others。　Her　body　would　become　his　second；　his　assistant；　his　alter　ego。
I'll　undress　them　for　you；　give　them　a　bath；　bring　them　in　to　you　。。。　she　would　whisper　to　him　as　they　pressed　together。　She　yearned　for　the　two　of　them　to　merge　into　a　hermaphrodite。　Then　the　other　women's　bodies　would　be　their　playthings。
20
Oh；　to　be　the　alter　ego　of　his　polygamous　life！　Tomas　refused　to　understand；　but　she　could　not　get　it　out　of　her　head；　and　tried　to　cultivate　her　friendship　with　Sabina。　Tereza　began　by　offering　to　do　a　series　of　photographs　of　Sabina。
Sabina　invited　Tereza　to　her　studio；　and　at　last　she　saw　the　spacious　room　and　its　centerpiece：　the　large；　square；　platform…like　bed。
I　feel　awful　that　you've　never　been　here　before；　said　Sabina；　as　she　showed　her　the　pictures　leaning　against　the　wall。　She　even　pulled　out　an　old　canvas；　of　a　steelworks　under　construction；　which　she　had　done　during　her　school　days；　a　period　when　the　strictest　realism　had　been　required　of　all　students　（art　that　was　not　realistic　was　said　to　sap　the　foundations　of　socialism）。　In　the　spirit　of　the　wager　of　the　times；　she　had　tried　to　be　stricter　than　her　teachers　and　had　painted　in　a　style　concealing　the　brush　strokes　and　closely　resembling　color　photography。
Here　is　a　painting　I　happened　to　drip　red　paint　on。　At　first　I　was　terribly　upset；　but　then　I　started　enjoying　it。　The　trickle　looked　like　a　crack；　it　turned　the　building　site　into　a　battered　old　backdrop；　a　backdrop　with　a　building　site　painted　on　it。　I　began　playing　with　the　crack；　filling　it　out；　wondering　what　might　be　visible　behind　it。　And　that's　how　I　began　my　first　cycle　of　paintings。　I　called　it　Behind　the　Scenes。　Of　course；　I　couldn't　show　them　to　anybody。　I'd　have　been　kicked　out　of　the　Academy。　On　the　surface；　there　was　always　an　impeccably　realistic　world；　but　underneath；　behind　the　backdrop's　cracked　canvas；　lurked　something　different；　something　mysterious　or　abstract。　
After　pausing　for　a　moment；　she　added；　On　the　surface；　an　intelligible　lie；　underneath；　the　unintelligible　truth。　
Tereza　listened　to　her　with　the　remarkable　concentration　that　few　professors　ever　see　on　the　face　of　a　student　and　began　to　perceive　that　all　Sabina's　paintings；　past　and　present；　did　indeed　treat　the　same　idea；　that　they　all　featured　the　confluence　of　two　themes；　two　worlds；　that　they　were　all　double　exposures；　so　to　speak。　A　landscape　showing　an　old…fashioned　table　lamp　shining　through　it。　An　idyllic　still　life　of　apples；　nuts；　and　a　tiny；　candle…lit　Christmas　tree　showing　a　hand　ripping　through　the　canvas。
She　felt　a　rush　of　admiration　for　Sabina；　and　because　Sabina　treated　her　as　a　friend　it　was　an　admiration　free　of　fear　and　suspicion　and　quickly　turned　into　friendship。
She　nearly　forgot　she　had　come　to　take　photographs。　Sabina　had　to　remind　her。　Tereza　finally　looked　away　from　the　paintings　only　to　see　the　bed　set　in　the　middle　of　the　room　like　a　platform。
21
Next　to　the　bed　stood　a　small　table；　and　on　the　table　the　model　of　a　human　head；　the　kind　hairdressers　put　wigs　on。　Sabina's　wig　stand　sported　a　bowler　hat　rather　than　a　wig。　It　used　to　belong　to　my　grandfather；　she　said　with　a　smile。
It　was　the　kind　of　hat—black；　hard；　round—that　Tereza　had　seen　only　on　the　screen；　the　kind　of　hat　Chaplin　wore。　She　smiled　back；　picked　it　up；　and　after　studying　it　for　a　time；　said；　Would　you　like　me　to　take　your　picture　in　it？　
Sabina　laughed　for　a　long　time　at　the　idea。　Tereza　put　down　the　bowler　hat；　picked　up　her　camera；　and　started　taking　pictures。
When　she　had　been　at　it　for　almost　an　hour；　she　suddenly　said；　What　would　you　say　to　some　nude　shots？　
Nude　shots？　Sabina　laughed。
Yes；　said　Tereza；　repeating　her　proposal　more　boldly；　nude　shots。　
That　calls　for　a　drink；　said　Sabina；　and　opened　a　bottle　of　wine。
Tereza　felt　her　body　going　weak；　she　was　suddenly　tongue…tied。　Sabina；　meanwhile；　strode　back　and　forth；　wine　in　hand；　going　on　about　her　grandfather；　who'd　been　the　mayor　of　a　small　town；　Sabina　had　never　known　him；　all　he'd　left　behind　was　this　bowler　hat　and　a　picture　showing　a　raised　platform　with　several　small…town　dignitaries　on　it；　one　of　them　was　Grandfather；　it　wasn't　at　all　clear　what　they　were　doing　up　there　on　the　platform；　maybe　they　were　officiating　at　some　ceremony；　unveiling　a　monument　to　a　fellow　dignitary　who　had　also　once　worn　a　bowler　hat　at　public　ceremonies。
Sabina　went　on　and　on　about　the　bowler　hat　and　her　grandfather　until；　emptying　her　third　glass；　she　said　I'll　be　right　back　and　disappeared　into　the　bathroom。
She　came　out　in　her　bathrobe。　Tereza　picked　up　her　camera　and　put　it　to　her　eye。　Sabina　threw　open　the　robe。
22
The　camera　served　Tereza　as　both　a　mechanical　eye　through　which　to　observe　Tomas's　mistress　and　a　veil　by　which　to　conceal　her　face　from　her。
It　took　Sabina　some　time　before　she　could　bring　herself　to　slip　out　of　the　robe　entirely。　The　situation　she　found　herself　in　was　proving　a　bit　more　difficult　than　she　had　expected。　After　several　minutes　of　posing；　she　went　up　to　Tereza　and　said；　Now　it's　my　turn　to　take　your　picture。　Strip！　
Sabina　had　heard　the　command　Strip！　so　many　times　from　Tomas　that　it　was　engraved　in　her　memory。　Thus；　Tomas's　mistress　had　just　given　Tomas's　command　to　Tomas's　wife。　The　two　women　were　joined　by　the　same　magic　word。　That　was　Tomas's　way　of　unexpectedly　turning　an　innocent　conversation　with　a　woman　into　an　erotic　situation。　Instead　of　stroking；　flattering；　pleading；　he　would　issue　a　command；　issue　it　abruptly；　unexpectedly；　softly　yet　firmly　and　authoritatively；　a