生命不能承受之轻-第16部分

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　the　proceedings；　asked　the　men　whether　they　were　planning　to　go　to　the　Rossini　opera　an　Italian　company　was　putting　on　in　Geneva　the　following　week。　Meanwhile；　Alain　the　painter　sank　into　greater　and　greater　detail　about　his　new　approach　to　painting。　Franz　was　ashamed　for　his　daughter。　To　put　her　in　her　place；　he　announced　that　whenever　she　went　to　the　opera　she　complained　terribly　of　boredom。
You're　awful；　said　Marie…Anne；　trying　to　punch　him　in　the　stomach　from　a　sitting　position。　The　star　tenor　is　so　handsome。　So　handsome。　I've　seen　him　twice　now；　and　I'm　in　love　with　him。　
Franz　could　not　get　over　how　much　like　her　mother　his　daughter　was。　Why　couldn't　she　be　like　him？　But　there　was　nothing　he　could　do　about　it。　She　was　not　like　him。　How　many　times　had　he　heard　Marie…Claude　proclaim　she　was　in　love　with　this　or　that　painter；　singer；　writer；　politician；　and　once　even　with　a　racing　cyclist？　Of　course；　it　was　all　mere　cocktail　party　rhetoric；　but　he　could　not　help　recalling　now　and　then　that　more　than　twenty　years　ago　she　had　gone　about　saying　the　same　thing　about…him　and　threatening　him　with　suicide　to　boot。
At　that　point；　Sabina　entered　the　room。　Marie…Claude　walked　up　to　her。　While　Marie…Anne　went　on　about　Rossini；　Franz　trained　his　attention　on　what　the　two　women　were　saying。　After　a　few　friendly　words　of　greeting；　Marie…Claude　lifted　the　ceramic　pendant　from　Sabina's　neck　and　said　in　a　very　loud　voice；　What　is　that？　How　ugly！　
Those　words　made　a　deep　impression　on　Franz。　They　were　not　meant　to　be　combative；　the　raucous　laughter　immediately　following　them　made　it　clear　that　by　rejecting　the　pendant　Marie…Claude　did　not　wish　to　jeopardize　her　friendship　with　Sabina。　But　it　was　not　the　kind　of　thing　she　usually　said。
I　made　it　myself；　said　Sabina。
That　pendant　is　ugly；　really！　Marie…Claude　repeated　very　loudly。　You　shouldn't　wear　it。　
Franz　knew　his　wife　didn't　care　whether　the　pendant　was　ugly　or　not。　An　object　was　ugly　if　she　willed　it　ugly；　beautiful　if　she　willed　it　beautiful。　Pendants　worn　by　her　friends　were　a　priori　beautiful。　And　even　if　she　did　find　them　ugly；　she　would　never　say　so；　because　flattery　had　long　since　become　second　nature　to　her。
Why；　then；　did　she　decide　that　the　pendant　Sabina　had　made　herself　was　ugly？
Franz　suddenly　saw　the　answer　plainly：　Marie…Claude　proclaimed　Sabina's　pendant　ugly　because　she　could　afford　to　do　so。
Or　to　be　more　precise：　Marie…Claude　proclaimed　Sabina's　pendant　ugly　to　make　it　clear　that　she　could　afford　to　tell　Sabina　her　pendant　was　ugly。
Sabina's　exhibition　the　year　before　had　not　been　particularly　successful；　so　Marie…Claude　did　not　set　great　store　by　Sabina's　favor。　Sabina；　however；　had　every　reason　to　set　store　by　Marie…Claude's。　Yet　that　was　not　at　all　evident　from　her　behavior。
Yes；　Franz　saw　it　plainly：　Marie…Claude　had　taken　advantage　of　the　occasion　to　make　clear　to　Sabina　（and　others）　what　the　real　balance　of　power　was　between　the　two　of　them。
7
A　Short　Dictionary　of　Misunderstood　Words　（concluded）
THE　OLD　CHURCH　IN　AMSTERDAM
There　are　houses　running　along　one　side　of　the　street；　and　behind　the　large　ground…floor　shop…front　windows　all　the　whores　have　little　rooms　and　plushly　pillowed　armchairs　in　which　they　sit　up　close　to　the　glass　wearing　bras　and　panties。　They　look　like　big　bored　cats。
On　the　other　side　of　the　street　is　a　gigantic　Gothic　cathedral　dating　from　the　fourteenth　century。
Between　the　whores'　world　and　God's　world；　like　a　river　dividing　two　empires；　stretches　an　intense　smell　of　urine。
Inside　the　Old　Church；　all　that　is　left　of　the　Gothic　style　is　the　high；　bare；　white　walls；　the　columns；　the　vaulting；　and　the　windows。　There　is　not　a　single　image　on　the　walls；　not　a　single　piece　of　statuary　anywhere。　The　church　is　as　empty　as　a　gymnasium；　except　in　the　very　center；　where　several　rows　of　chairs　have　been　arranged　in　a　large　square　around　a　miniature　podium　for　the　minister。　Behind　the　chairs　are　wooden　booths；　stalls　for　wealthy　burghers。
The　chairs　and　stalls　seem　to　have　been　placed　there　without　the　slightest　concern　for　the　shape　of　the　walls　or　position　of　the　columns；　as　if　wishing　to　express　their　indifference　to　or　disdain　for　Gothic　architecture。　Centuries　ago　Calvinist　faith　turned　the　cathedral　into　a　hangar；　its　only　function　being　to　keep　the　prayers　of　the　faithful　safe　from　rain　and　snow。
Franz　was　fascinated　by　it：　the　Grand　March　of　History　had　passed　through　this　gigantic　hall！
Sabina　recalled　how　after　the　Communist　coup　all　the　castles　in　Bohemia　were　nationalized　and　turned　into　manual　training　centers；　retirement　homes；　and　also　cow　sheds。　She　had　visited　one　of　the　cow　sheds：　hooks　for　iron　rings　had　been　hammered　into　the　stucco　walls；　and　cows　tied　to　the　rings　gazed　dreamily　out　of　the　windows　at　the　castle　grounds；　now　overrun　with　chickens。
It's　the　emptiness　of　it　that　fascinates　me；　said　Franz。　People　collect　altars；　statues；　paintings；　chairs；　carpets；　and　books；　and　then　comes　a　time　of　joyful　relief　and　they　throw　it　all　out　like　so　much　refuse　from　yesterday's　dinner　table。　Can't　you　just　picture　Hercules'　broom　sweeping　out　this　cathedral？　
The　poor　had　to　stand；　while　the　rich　had　stalls；　said　Sabina；　pointing　to　them。　But　there　was　something　that　bound　the　bankers　to　beggars：　a　hatred　of　beauty。　
What　is　beauty？　said　Franz；　and　he　saw　himself　attending　a　recent　gallery　preview　at　his　wife's　side；　and　at　her　insistence。　The　endless　vanity　of　speeches　and　words；　the　vanity　of　culture；　the　vanity　of　art。
When　Sabina　was　working　in　the　student　brigade；　her　soul　poisoned　by　the　cheerful　marches　issuing　incessantly　from　the　loudspeakers；　she　borrowed　a　motorcycle　one　Sunday　and　headed　for　the　hills。　She　stopped　at　a　tiny　remote　village　she　had　never　seen　before；　leaned　the　motorcycle　against　the　church；　and　went　in。　A　mass　happened　to　be　in　progress。　Religion　was　persecuted　by　the　regime；　and　most　people　gave　the　church　a　wide　berth。　The　only　people　in　the　pews　were　old　men　and　old　women；　because　they　did　not　fear　the　regime。　They　feared　only　death。
The　priest　intoned　words　in　a　singsong　voice；　and　the　people　repeated　them　after　him　in　unison。　It　was　a　litany。　The　same　words　kept　coming　back；　like　a　wanderer　who　cannot　tear　his　eyes　away　from　the　countryside　or　like　a　man　who　cannot　take　leave　of　life。　She　sat　in　one　of　the　last　pews；　closing　her　eyes　to　hear　the　music　of　the　words；　opening　them　to　stare　up　at　the　blue　vault　dotted　with　large　gold　stars。　She　was　entranced。
What　she　had　unexpectedly　met　there　in　the　village　church　was　not　God；　it　was　beauty。　She　knew　perfectly　well　that　neither　the　church　nor　the　litany　was　beautiful　in　and　of　itself；　but　they　were　beautiful　compared　to　the　construction　site；　where　she　spent　her　days　amid　the　racket　of　the　songs。　The　mass　was　beautiful　because　it　appeared　to　her　in　a　sudden；　mysterious　revelation　as　a　world　betrayed。
From　that　time　on　she　had　known　that　beauty　is　a　world　betrayed。　The　only　way　we　can　encounter　it　is　if　its　persecutors　have　overlooked　it　somewhere。　Beauty　hides　behind　the　scenes　of　the　May　Day　parade。　If　we　want　to　find　it；　we　must　demolish　the　scenery。
This　is　the　first　time　I've　ever　been　fascinated　by　a　church；　said　Franz。
It　was　neither　Protestantism　nor　asceticism　that　made　him　so　enthusiastic；　it　was　something　else；　something　highly　personal；　something　he　did　not　dare　discuss　with　Sabina。　He　thought　he　heard　a　voice　telling　him　to　seize　Hercules'　broom　and　sweep　all　of　Marie…Claude's　previews；　all　of　Marie…Anne's　singers；　all　lectures　and　symposia；　all　useless　speeches　and　vain　words—sweep　them　out　of　his　life。　The　great　empty　space　of　Amsterdam's　Old　Church　had　appeared　to　him　in　a　sudden　and　mysterious　revelation　as　the　image　of　his　own　liberation。
STRENGTH
Stroking　Franz's　arms　in　bed　in　one　of　the　many　hotels　where　they　made　love；　Sabina　said；　The　muscles　you　have！　They're　unbelievable！　
Franz　took　pleasure　in　her　praise。　He　climbed　out　of　bed；　got　down　on　his　haunches；　grabbed　a　heavy　oak　chair　by　one　leg；　and　lifted　it　slowly　into　the　air。　You　never　have　to　be　afraid；　he　said。　I　can　protect　you　no　matter　what。　I　used　to　be　a　judo　champion。　
When　he　raised　the　hand　with　the　heavy　chair　above　his　head；　Sabina　said；　It's　good　to　know　you're　so　strong。　
But　deep　down　she　said　to　herself；　Franz　may　be　strong；　but　his　strength　is　directed　outward；　when　it　comes　to　the　people　he　lives　with；　the　people　he　loves；　he's　weak。　Franz's　weakness　is　called　goodness。　Franz　would　never　give　Sabina　orders。　He　would　never　command　her；　as　Tomas　had；　to　lay　the　mirror　on　the　floor　and　walk　back　and　forth　on　it　naked。　Not　that　he　lacks　sensuality；　he　simply　lacks　the　strength　to　give　orders。　There　are　things　that　can　be　accomplished　only　by　violence。　Physical　love　is　unthinkable　without　violence。
Sabina　watched　Franz　walk　across　the　room　with　the　chair　above　his　head；　the　scene　struck　her　as　grotesque　and　filled　her　with　an　odd　sadness。
Franz　set　the　chair　down　on　the　floor　opposite　Sabina　and　sat　in　it。　I　enjoy　being　strong；　of　course；　he　said；　but　what　good　do　these　muscles　do　me　in　Geneva？　They're　like　an　ornament；　a　peacock　feather。　I've　never　fought　anyone　in　my　life。　
Sabina　proceeded　with　her　melancholy　musings：　What　if　she　had　a　man　who　ordered　her　about？　A　man　who　wanted　to　master　her？　How　long　would　she　put　up　with　him？　Not　five　minutes！　From　which　it　follows　that　no　man　was　right　for　her。　Strong　or　weak。
Why　don't　you　ever　use　your　strength　on　me？　she　said。
Because　love　means　renouncing　strength；　said　Franz　softly。
Sabina　realized　two　things：　first；　that　Franz's　words　were　noble　and　just；　second；　that　they　disqualified　him　from　her　love　life。
LIVING　IN　TRUTH
Such　is　the　formula　set　forth　by　Kafka　somewhere　in　the　diaries　or　letters。　Franz　couldn't　quite　remember　where。　But　it　captivated　him。　What　does　it　mean　to　live　in　truth？　Putting　it　negatively　is　easy　enough：　it　means　not　lying；　not　hiding；　and　not　dissimulating。　From　the　time　he　met　Sabina；　however；　Franz　had　been　living　in　lies。　He　told　his　wife　about　nonexistent　congresses　in　Amsterdam　and　lectures　in　Madrid；　he　was　afraid　to　walk　with　Sabina　through　the　streets　of　Geneva。　And　he　enjoyed　the　lying　and　hiding：　it　was　all　so　new　to　him。　He　was　as　excited　as　a　teacher's　p