Элена Ферранте - The Lying Life of Adults

“Why do you stay with Tonino, if you do those things with other guys?”

“Because Tonino is a good guy and the others are pigs.”

“And you do it with pigs?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I like the way they look at me.”

“Make Tonino look at you the same way.”

“He doesn’t do that.”

“Maybe he’s not a man,” Ida said once.

“Oh no, he’s very much a man.”

“So?”

“He’s not a pig, that’s all.”

“I don’t believe it,” said Ida. “There are no men who aren’t pigs.”

“Yes, there are,” I said thinking of Roberto.

“Yes, there are,” said Angela, citing with inventive expressions Tonino’s erections when he touched her.

I think it was then, as she was talking, enjoying herself, that I felt the lack of a serious discussion on the subject, not with them but with Roberto and Giuliana. Would Roberto avoid it? No, I was sure he would answer me and would find a way even in this case to make very articulate arguments. The problem was the risk of seeming inappropriate in Giuliana’s eyes. Why bring up that subject in the presence of her fiancé? Altogether we had seen each other six times, apart from the meeting in Piazza Amedeo, and almost never for very long. Objectively, then, we weren’t that intimate. Although he always tended to use very concrete examples when he was discussing big questions, I wouldn’t have had the courage to ask: why, if you dig even a little, do you find sex in all things, even the most elevated; why, to describe sex, is a single adjective not sufficient, why does it take many—embarrassing, bland, tragic, happy, pleasant, repulsive—and never one at a time but all together; is it possible that a great love can exist without sex, is it possible that sexual practices between male and female don’t spoil the need to love and be loved in return? I imagined these and other questions, in a detached tone, maybe slightly solemn, so that he and Giuliana wouldn’t think I wanted to spy on their private life. But I knew I would never do it. Instead I persevered with Ida.

“Why do you think there aren’t any men who aren’t pigs?”

“I don’t think, I know.”

“So even Mariano is a pig?”

“Of course, he goes to bed with your mother.”

I started, I said coldly:

“They see each other sometimes, but it’s friendship.”

“I think they’re just friends, too,” Angela intervened.

Ida shook her head energetically, repeated decisively: they’re not just friends. And she exclaimed:

“I won’t kiss a man, it’s disgusting.”

“Not even a nice one like Tonino?” asked Angela.

“No, I’ll only kiss women. You want to hear a story I wrote?”

“No,” said Angela.

I stared in silence at Ida’s shoes, which were green. I remembered that her father had looked at my cleavage.

6.

We often returned to the subject of Roberto and Giuliana; Angela extracted information from Tonino just for the fun of reporting it to me. One day she called because she found out that there had been yet another argument, this time between Vittoria and Margherita. They had quarreled because Margherita didn’t share Vittoria’s idea that Roberto should marry Giuliana right away and come to live in Naples. My aunt as usual made a lot of noise, Margherita as usual objected calmly, and Giuliana was quiet as if the matter didn’t concern her. Then suddenly Giuliana had started shouting, she began breaking plates, soup bowls, glasses, and not even Vittoria, who was very strong, was able to stop her. She cried: I’m leaving immediately, I’m going to live with him, I can’t stand all of you anymore. Tonino and Corrado had to intervene.

That story confused me. I said:

“It’s Vittoria’s fault, she never minds her own business.”

“It’s the fault of them all, apparently Giuliana is very jealous. Tonino says he’d bet his life on Roberto, he’s a fair and faithful person. But when Tonino goes to Milan with her, she makes scenes, because she can’t bear, I don’t know, that some girl student is too friendly, some colleague is too flirtatious, and so on and so on.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“You’re wrong. Giuliana seems serene, but Tonino told me she has nervous exhaustion.”

“Meaning?”

“When she feels bad, she doesn’t eat, she cries and screams.”

“Now how is she?”

“Fine. Tonight she’s coming to the movies with Tonino and me, why don’t you come, too?”

“If I come I’m sitting with Giuliana, don’t leave me with Tonino.”

Angela laughed.

“I’m inviting you just so you can free me from Tonino, I can’t take it anymore.”

I went, but the day didn’t go well: first the afternoon and then the evening were particularly distressing. The four of us met in Piazza del Plebiscito, in front of Caffè Gambrinus, and we set off on Via Toledo toward the Modernissimo cinema. I wasn’t able to exchange even a word with Giuliana, I noticed only her agitated gaze, her bloodshot eyes, and the bracelet on her wrist. Angela immediately took her by the arm, I was a few paces back with Tonino. I asked him:

“Everything O.K.?”

“O.K.”

“I know you often take your sister to see Roberto.”

“No, not often.”

“Sometimes we get together.”

“Yes, Giuliana told me.”

“They’re a handsome couple.”

“They are.”

“I hear that when they get married they’re going to move to Naples.”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

I couldn’t get anything else out of him: he was a polite young man and wanted to entertain me, but not on that subject. So after a while I let him talk to me about a friend of his in Venice, he was planning to visit him and figure out if he could move there.

“What about Angela?”

“Angela isn’t happy with me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is.”

We got to the Modernissimo, I don’t remember what movie was showing—maybe it will come to me later. Tonino paid for all the tickets and bought candy, ice cream. We went in eating, the lights were still on. We sat down, first Tonino, then Angela, Giuliana, and me. At first we paid no attention to three boys sitting right behind us, high-school kids like Angela’s and my classmates, sixteen at most. We just heard them talking, laughing, while we girls were already cutting out Tonino, chatting without paying attention to anything.

It was precisely our ignoring them that caused the three boys to get restless. I really became aware of them only when the one who was maybe the boldest said in a loud voice: come and sit here next to us, we’ll show you the film. Angela burst out laughing and turned around, maybe she was nervous, and the boys laughed, too, the bold one made some more inviting remarks. I turned around and changed my mind about them, they weren’t like our classmates, they reminded me of Corrado or Rosario, slightly improved by school. I turned to Giuliana: she was older, I was expecting a sympathetic smile. Instead she was serious, rigid, her eyes fixed on Tonino, who seemed deaf, staring, impassive, at the blank screen.

The ads began, the bold kid caressed Giuliana’s hair and whispered, how nice, and one of the others shook Angela’s seat. She tugged Tonino’s arm and said: these guys are bothering me, make them stop. Giuliana murmured: forget it, I don’t know if she was talking to Angela or directly to her brother. Anyway, Angela ignored her and said to Tonino, peeved: I’m not going out with you anymore, I’m fed up, I’m pissed. The bold kid exclaimed instantly: good for you, we told you so, come on over, plenty of room here. Someone else in the audience went sssh . Tonino said slowly, drawing out the words: let’s sit a little farther down, we’re not comfortable here. He got up, and his sister did the same so promptly that I did, too. Angela remained seated for a few more seconds, then she got up and said to Tonino: you’re ridiculous.