Tuesday, December 27, 2011

On Obsession









‘Then what do you want from life, Netta?’ he asked.  ‘What are you gettingat in it all?’


      When theirfood had come he had ordered wine, and now, if not drunk, he was careless andbold with drink.  Otherwise he wouldnever have asked her a serious, direct question like that.  To ask Netta a serious direct question, inthe ordinary way, was simply to ask for one of those hideous cuts across thesoul she knew so well how to administer. But now, because of what he had drunk, he felt he could take the cut ifit came.  If it hurt, he wasanaesthetized.


      They hadfinished their meal and were having coffee. Eddie Carstairs was still at his table in the corner, though most of theother tables were deserted.  There were,however, three people making a good deal of noise at a table nearby, so hecould speak in a normal voice without being overheard.



      ‘What do youmean?’ she said.  ‘What do I want fromlife?’   


      ‘Just what do you want from it? . . . ‘Do you want to be asuccess on the films, do you want to be married, do you want children – what?’


           ‘I don’t know.’


      ‘But youmust, Netta.  You must know somethingabout what you want.’


      ‘No, I don’t,’she said vaguely, looking at a passing waiter, and speaking as a mother, watchingthe screen at a cinema might speak to her talkative child.  ‘Do you know what you want?’


      ‘Yes.Of course I do.  I know what I want.’


           ‘What?,’ shesaid, and looked at him.


      He pausedfor a moment, reluctant to start anything. He knew it could lead nowhere, could do him no good.  But why shouldn’t he make love to heronce in a way, why shouldn’t he get something backfrom the money he was spending, a littleof the luxury of telling her he loved her, of speaking his heart.  He hadn’t opened his heart to her for months.

   
      ‘I want you, Netta,’ he said, looking into her eyes. ‘That’s all I want.’


      ‘Allright,’ she said‘So what?’


      ‘Whatdo you mean,’ he said, ‘So what?’’


          ‘Just “So what”,’  said Netta, and she was again looking at thepeople in the room behind him.







Illustrations:

Top:  Alex Katz: Ann Lauterbach, 1978

Bottom: Alex Katz:  Pas De Deux (Red Grooms and Lizzy Ross), 1994


Text:  Patrick Hamilton, Hangover Square (The Third Part, Chapter 4).  London, Constable, 1941.

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