55954_007之Goldfinger 金手指等390个文件_

锘挎澀宸炴病鏈夋鎷夸簡
s novel about her (鈥楩or days she looked at me as if she were trying to read my book in me鈥?, the little room in the Rue Lepsius鈥? He says of his characters: 鈥楢ll bound by time in a dimension which is 鏉窞妗戞嬁鎸夋懇浠锋牸 not reality as we would wish it to be 鈥?but is created by the needs of the work. For all drama creates bondage, and the actor is only significant to the degree that he is bound.鈥?But setting these reservations aside, how graceful and accurate a portrait of Alexandria he manages to convey; Alexandria and its women. There are sketches here of Leonie, Gaby, Delphine 鈥?the pale rose-coloured one, the gold, the bitumen. Some one can identify quite easily from his pages. Clea, who still lives in that 鏉窞鍝佽尪璧勬簮 high studio, a swallow鈥檚 nest made of cobwebs and old cloth 鈥?he has her unmistakably. But for the most part these Alexandrian girls are distinguished from women in other places only by a terrifying honesty and world-weariness. He is enough of a writer to have isolated these true qualities in the city of the Soma. One could not expect more from 鏉窞妗戞嬁閰掑簵 an intruder of gifts who almost by mistake pierced the hard banausic shell of Alexandria and discovered himself. As for Justine herself, there are few if indeed any references to Arnauti in the heavily armoured pages of her diary. Here and there I have traced the letter A, but usually in passages abounding with the purest introspection. Here is one where the identification might seem plausible: 鈥榃hat first attracted me in A was his room. There always seemed to me some sort of ferment going 鏉窞鐢蜂汉鏀炬澗鐨勫湴鏂?on there behind the heavy shutters. Books lay everywhere with their jackets turned inside out or covered in white drawing-paper 鈥?as if to hide their titles. A huge litter of newspapers with holes in them, as if a horde of mice had been feasting in them 鈥?A鈥檚 cuttings from 鈥渞eal life鈥?as he called it, the abstraction which he felt to be so remote from 鏉窞鍝佽尪缃?his own. He would sit down to his newspapers as if to a meal in a patched dressing-gown and velvet slippers, snipping away with a pair of blunt nail-scissors. He puzzled over 鈥渞eality鈥?in the world outside his work like a child; it was presumably a place where people could be happy, laugh, bear children.鈥?A few such sketches comprise the whole portrait of the author of Moeurs; it seems a meagre

鏉窞鐖辨儏鏁呬簨spa椋炴満

and disappointing reward for so much painstaking and loving observation; nor can I trace one word about their separation after this brief and fruitless marriage But it was interesting to see from his book how he had made the same judgements upon her character as we were later to make, Nessim and I. The compliance she extorted from us all was the astonishing thing about her. It was as if men knew at once that they were in the presence of someone who could not be judged according to the standards they had hitherto employed in thinking about women. Clea once said of her (and her judgements were seldom if ever charitable): 鈥楾he true whore is man鈥檚 real darling 鈥?like Justine; she alone has the capacity to wound men. But of course our friend is only a shallow twentieth-century