Laughable Loves

by Milan Kundera

Even if this change, together with the young man's

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  gaze fixed on him with an anxious and questioning look, gratified Havel, this pleasure was small in comparison with the bitterness that left a gaping hole inside him. It occurred to Havel that he ought not to prolong this meeting, which could not bring him any pleasure; so he quickly took over the conversation, uttered several charming witticisms for the young man and the girl, expressed his satisfaction at having been able to spend an agreeable moment with them, stated that he had to be somewhere, and took his leave.

  When the doctor reached the glass door, the young man tapped his forehead and told the girl that he had completely forgotten to make an appointment with the doctor about the interview. He rushed out of the booth and only caught up with Havel in the street. "Well, what do you say about her?" he asked.

  Dr. Havel stared for a long while into the eyes of the young man, whose imploring look cheered him up.

  On the other hand, Havel's silence chilled the editor, so that he began to retreat beforehand: "I know she isn't a beauty. ..."

  Havel said: "No, she isn't a beauty."

  The editor lowered his head: "She talks a little too much. But aside from that, she's nice!"

  "Yes, that girl is really nice," said Havel. "But a dog, a canary, or a duckling waddling about in a farmyard can also be nice. In life, my friend, it's not a question of having the greatest number of women, because that's too superficial a success. Rather, it's a question of cultivating one's own demanding taste, because in it is

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  mirrored the extent of one's personal worth. Remember, my friend, that a real fisherman throws the little fish back into the water."

  The young man began to apologize and declared that he himself had considerable doubts about the girl, which was borne out by the fact that he had asked Havel for his judgment.

  "It's not important," said Havel.

  But the young man went on apologizing and justifying himself, and he pointed out that in the fall there is a dearth of beautiful women in the spa town and a man has to put up with what there is.

  "I don't agree with you in this matter," Havel replied. "I've seen several extremely attractive women here. But I'll tell you something. There exists a certain superficial prettiness in women, which small-town taste mistakenly considers beauty. And then there exists the genuine erotic beauty of women. Of course, it's not easy to recognize this at a mere glance. It is an art." Then he shook the young man's hand and left.

  8

  The editor fell into a terrible state: he understood that he was an incorrigible fool, lost in the unbounded (yes, it seemed to him unbounded) wilderness of his own

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  youth; he realized that he had fallen in Dr. Havel's esteem, and he had discovered beyond a shadow of a doubt that his girl was uninteresting, insignificant, and not beautiful. When he sat down again beside her in the booth, it seemed to him that all the clientele at the cafe as well as the two busy waiters knew this and felt maliciously sorry for him. He called for the check and explained to the girl that he had pressing work to do and had to leave. The girl became downcast, and the young man's heart was wrung with grief. Even though he knew that he was throwing her back into the water like a real fisherman, deep down he still (secretly and with a kind of shame) loved her.

  The next morning did not bring any light into his gloomy mood, and when he saw Dr. Havel walking toward him with a fashionably dressed woman, he felt within himself an envy akin almost to hatred. This lady was too blatantly beautiful and Dr. Havel's mood, as he nodded gaily to the editor, was too blatantly buoyant, so that the young man felt even more wretched.

  "This is the editor of the local magazine; he made my acquaintance only so that he could meet you.''

  When the young man learned that before him was a woman he had seen on the movie screen, his insecurity increased even more; Havel forced him to walk with them, and the editor, because he didn't know what to say, began to explain his projected interview and supplemented it with a new idea: he said that he would do a double interview with Mrs. Havel and the doctor.

  "But my dear friend," Havel admonished him, "the

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  conversations that we engaged in were pleasant and, thanks to you, also interesting. But tell me, why should we make them public in a periodical destined for gall bladder sufferers and people with duodenal ulcers?"

  "I can easily imagine those conversations of yours," said Mrs. Havel smiling.

  "We talked about women," said Dr. Havel. "In this gentleman here I found an excellent partner and debater for this subject, a bright companion in my dreary, dark days."

  Mrs. Havel turned to the young man. "He didn't bore

  you?"

  The editor was delighted that the doctor had called him his bright companion, and, once again, his envy was mingled with devoted gratitude. He declared that perhaps rather it was he who had bored the doctor; that is, he was too well aware of his inexperience and color-lessness, yes�he even added�of his worthlessness.

  "Ah, my dear," said the actress, with a laugh, "you must have done a lot of showing off !"

  The editor stood up for the doctor: "That's not true! You, my dear lady, don't know what a small town is like, what this backwater where I live is like."

  "But it's beautiful here," protested the actress.

  "Yes, for you, because you've come here just for a while. But I live here and will go on living here. Always the same circle of people, whom I already know only too well. Always the same people, who all think alike, and the things they think are nothing but superficialities and foolishness. Whether I like it or not, I have to

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  get along with them, and I don't always even realize that I'm conforming to them. It's dreadful! I could become one of them! It's terrible to see the world through their myopic eyes!"

  The editor spoke with increasing excitement, and it seemed to the actress that in his words she heard the eternal protest of youth. This captivated her, this took her fancy, and she said: "You mustn't conform! You mustn't!"

  "I mustn't," the young man agreed. "The doctor opened my eyes yesterday. At all costs I must get outside the vicious circle of this milieu. The vicious circle of this pettiness, of this mediocrity. I must leave," said the young man, "I must leave,'' he repeated.

  "We talked about the fact," explained Havel to his wife, "that the ordinary taste of a small town creates a false ideal of beauty, which is essentially unerotic, even antierotic. Whereas genuine, explosive erotic magic remains unnoticed by those with such taste. There are women all around us who would be capable of leading a man to the most dizzying heights of sensual adventure, and no one here sees them."

  "That's right," confirmed the young man.

  "No one sees them," the doctor went on, "because they don't correspond to the local norms; that is to say, erotic magic shows itself by oddness rather than regularity, expressiveness rather than restraint, irregularity rather than ordinary prettiness."

  "Yes," agreed the young man.

  "You know Frantiska," said Havel to his wife.

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  "Yes," said the actress.

  "And surely you know how many of my friends would give all their worldly goods for one night with her. I'd bet my life that in this town no one even notices her. Tell me, my dear editor, you know her, have you ever noticed that Frantiska is an extraordinary woman? "

  "No, actually I haven't!" said the young man. "It never occurred to me to look at her as a woman!"

  "Of course," said Havel. "You found her neither thin nor garrulous enough. She didn't have enough freckles!"

  "Yes," said the young man unhappily. "Yesterday you found out what an idiot I am."

  "But have you ever noticed how she wa
lks?" continued Havel. "Have you ever noticed that her legs literally speak when she walks? My dear editor, if you heard what her legs were saying, you would blush, even though I know you're a hell of a libertine."

  9

  "You're making fools of innocent people," said the actress to her husband, when they had taken leave of the editor.

  "You know very well that in me that's a sign of good humor. And I swear to you that this is the first time I've been in a good mood since I arrived here."

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  This time Dr. Havel was not lying; that morning when he had seen the bus coming into the terminal and caught sight of his wife behind the glass, and then seen her smiling on the step, he had been happy. And because the preceding days had stored up in him reserves of untouched gaiety, throughout the whole day he displayed a delight that was a bit mad. They strolled together through the colonnade, nibbled on sweet, round wafers, looked in on Frantiska and heard fresh information about her son's latest statements, completed the walk with the editor described in the preceding section, and made fun of the patients, who were walking through the streets for their health's sake. Upon this occasion, Dr. Havel noticed that several of the people who were walking about were staring at the actress; when he turned around he discovered that they were standing and looking back at them.

  "You've been recognized," said Havel. "The people here have nothing to do, and they've become passionate moviegoers."

  "Does it bother you?" asked the actress, who considered the publicity aspects of her profession a sin, for like all true lovers she longed for a love that was peaceful and hidden.

  "On the contrary," said Havel, and he laughed. Then for a long time he amused himself with the childish game of trying to guess who, out of those people walking around, would recognize her and who would not, and he made bets with her as to how many people would recognize her on the next street. And old men,

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  peasant women, children did turn around, but so also did the few good-looking women who were to be found at the spa at that time.

  Havel, who in recent days had been experiencing humiliating invisibility, was pleasantly gratified by the attention of the passersby, and longed for the sparks of interest to alight, as much as possible, on him also; to this end, he put his arm around the actress's waist, bent down toward her, and whispered into her ear the most varied mixture of sweet-talk and lasciviousness, so that she too pressed herself against him in return and raised her merry eyes to his face. And Havel, beneath the many glances, felt how once more that he was regaining his lost visibility, that his dim features were becoming perceptible and conspicuous, and again he felt proud joy emanating from his body, from his gait, from his being.

  While they were dawdling on the main street in front of the window displays, entwined in loverlike fashion, Havel caught sight of the blonde masseuse who had treated him so impolitely yesterday; she was standing in an empty hunting goods store, gabbing with the salesgirl. "Come," he said to his startled wife, "you are the best creature in the whole world; I want to give you a present," and he took her by the hand and led her into the store.

  Both the chattering women fell silent; the masseuse took a long look at the actress, then a brief one at Havel, another look at the actress, and again one at Havel. Havel noted this with satisfaction but, without

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  directing a single glance toward her, quickly scrutinized the goods on display; he saw antlers, haversacks, rifles, binoculars, walking sticks, muzzles for dogs.

  "What would you like to see?" the salesgirl asked him.

  "Just a minute," said Havel; finally he caught sight of some whistles under the glass of the counter and pointed to one of them. The salesgirl handed it to him, Havel put the whistle to his lips, whistled, then inspected it from all sides and once again whistled softly. "Excellent," he said to the salesgirl, and he placed before her the required five crowns. He gave the whistle to his wife.

  The actress saw in this gift one of those childishnesses she loved in her husband, his clowning, his sense of nonsense, and she thanked him with a beautiful, amorous look. But that wasn't enough for Havel; he whispered to her: "Is that all your thanks for such a lovely present?" And so the actress kissed him. Neither woman took her eyes off them, even after they had left the store.

  They resumed their walk in the streets and in the park, they nibbled on wafers, whistled on the whistle, sat on a bench, and made bets as to how many passersby would turn around to look at them. When in the evening they went into a restaurant, they nearly bumped into the woman who resembled a horse. She looked at them in surprise, stared at the actress for a long time, glanced briefly at Havel, then once again at the actress and, when she looked at Havel once more, involuntarily nodded to him. Havel nodded too, and bending toward his

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  wife's ear, in a low voice asked if she loved him. The actress looked at him amorously and stroked his face.

  Then they sat down at a table, ate lightly (for the actress took scrupulous care of her husband's diet), drank red wine (for Havel was allowed to drink only that), and a wave of emotion swept over Mrs. Havel. She leaned toward her husband, took him by the hand, and told him that this was one of the nicest days she had ever spent; she opened her heart to him, saying how unhappy she had been when he had left for the spa; once again she apologized for her jealous woman's letter and she thanked him for phoning her and asking her to join him here; she told him that it would have been worthwhile for her to come see him even for only a minute; then she talked at length about how life with him was a life of continuous torment and uncertainty, as if Havel were always on the verge of escaping her, but that just for this reason every day was a new experience for her, a new falling in love, a new gift.

  Then they went off together to Havel's room, and the actress's joy soon reached its height.

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  10

  Two days later Havel went again to his hydrotherapy session and again arrived somewhat late, because, to tell the truth, he was never on time anywhere. And there again was the blonde masseuse, only this time she didn't scowl at him, on the contrary, she smiled and addressed him as "Doctor," so Havel knew that shed looked up his file, or else had inquired about him. Dr. Havel noted this interest with satisfaction and began to undress behind the screen in the cubicle. When the masseuse called to him that the bath was full, he self-assuredly stepped forward with his paunch thrust out and, with relish, sprawled in the water.

  The masseuse turned on a faucet and asked him whether his wife was still at the spa. Havel said that she wasn't, and the masseuse asked if his wife would be acting again in some nice film. Havel said that she would, and the masseuse lifted up his right leg. When the stream of water tickled his sole the masseuse smiled and said that the doctor, as was evident, had a very sensitive body. Then they went on talking, and Havel mentioned that it was boring at the spa. The masseuse smiled very meaningfully and said that the doctor certainly knew how to arrange his life so as not to be bored. And when she was bending down low over him, running the nozzle of the hose over his chest, Havel praised her breasts, whose upper halves he could easily see from where he was lying, and the masseuse replied

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  that the doctor had certainly seen more beautiful ones.

  From all this it seemed quite obvious to Havel that his wife's brief visit had thoroughly transformed him in the eyes of this pleasant, muscular girl, that he had all of a sudden acquired charm and appeal, and, what is more, that his body was for her undoubtedly an opportunity that could secretly put her on intimate terms with a famous actress, make her equal to a celebrated woman everybody turned around to look at; Havel understood that suddenly everything was permitted him, everything was tacitly promised him in advance.

&
nbsp; But then what often happens happened! When a man is contented, he gladly turns down an opportunity that presents itself, so as to be reassured about his blissful satiety. It was enough for Havel that the blonde woman had lost her insulting haughtiness, that she had a sweet voice and meek eyes, for the doctor no longer to desire her.

  Then he had to turn over on his stomach, thrust his chin up out of the water, and let a stinging stream run over him from his heels to the nape of his neck. This position seemed to him to be a ritual position of humility and thanksgiving: He thought about his wife, about how beautiful she was, about how he loved her and she loved him, and also about how she was his lucky star that brought him the favors of chance and of muscular girls.

  And when the massage was over and he stood up to step out of the bath, the masseuse, wet with perspiration, seemed to him so wholesomely and succulently

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  pretty and her eyes so submissively affectionate that he longed to make an obeisance in the direction where, faraway, he supposed his wife to be. It appeared to him that the masseuse's body was standing in the actress's large hand and that this hand was offering it to him like a message of love, like a gift. And it suddenly struck him as rudeness to his own wife to refuse this gift, to refuse this tender consideration. Therefore he smiled at the perspiring girl and said to her that he had freed himself this evening for her and would be waiting for her at seven o'clock at the hot springs. The girl consented, and Dr. Havel wrapped himself up in a large towel.

  When he had dressed and combed his hair, he discovered that he was in an extraordinarily good mood. He felt like chatting, and for this reason stopped at Frantiska's. His visit suited her, for she too was in excellent spirits. She talked about all sorts of things, but always returned to the subject they had touched on at their last meeting: her age; in ambiguous sentences, she implied that a person should not give in to age, that a person's age is not always a disadvantage, and that it is an absolutly marvelous feeling when a person finds out that he or she can quietly talk as an equal with younger people. "And children aren't everything either," she said all at once for no reason. "You know that I love my children, but there are other things in life."

  Frantiska's reflections did not depart even for an instant from their vague abstractness, and they would have unmistakably appeared to be mere idle talk to an

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  uninitiated person. Only Havel was not an uninitiated person, and he discerned the purport hidden behind this idle talk. He gathered that his own happiness was only a link in a whole chain of happiness, and because he had a generous heart, he felt doubly good.