The Ravishing of Lol Stein by Marguerite Duras Read Free Book Online

escaped his glance, Lol imagined, not one who might have suited his fancy or, if worst came to worst, someone else's fancy, why not? He eyed their dresses like a ferret, thought Lol, perfectly at his ease there in the crowd while waiting for this appointment of which he already had a foretaste there right under his nose, taking, imagining he was having for a few seconds each of the women, then rejecting them, mourning each and every loss, mourning one alone, the one who did not yet exist but who, if she did, would be capable of making him, at the last minute, stand up the woman among a thousand others who was about to come, come toward Lol Stein, the woman Lol was waiting for with him.

S HE DID IN FACT arrive, she descended from a bus crowded with people on their way home from work.
    The moment she heads toward him, with that very slow, very gentle, circular movement of her hips which makes her, at every step, the object of some secret, ceaseless, caressing self-flattery, as soon as Lol sees the black mass of dry, mistlike hair with the tiny, white, triangular face beneath, that face dominated completely by those very large, very bright eyes, gravely disturbed by their ineffable remorse at belonging to this adulterous body, Lol admits that she recognized Tatiana Karl. Then, and only then, she believes, the name that had been hovering on the edge of her consciousness for weeks was there: Tatiana Karl.
    She was discreetly dressed in a casual black suit. But her hair was done with great care, there was a gray flower in it, she had pinned it up with gold combs, and she had gone to great lengths to fasten her fragile hairdo with a long, wide, black hair band which, where it passed close to her face, framed her bright eyes, made them look even larger, even more sorrowful, and this hair-do, which would have been destroyed by the slightest exposure to the wind, which, in fact, a mere look would undo, she must have—Lol is speculating now—she must have had to imprison in a dark hair net so that, at the proper moment, he would be the only one who could breach and destroy its admirable artificiality, one single movement of his hand would bathe her in its fallen tresses, that marvelous head of hair which, suddenly, Lol remembers and sees again, luminously juxtaposed to this one. In those days people said that, sooner or later, she would have to have her hair cut, that its sheer weight would wear her out and make her round-shouldered, would disfigure her because its mass was disproportionate to her large eyes and the tiny bone structure of her thin face. Tatiana Karl has not cut her hair, she has accepted the challenge of having too much.
    Is that the way Tatiana looked that day? Or somewhat, or completely, different? There were times when she wore her hair down, in a long pony tail, times when she wore light-colored dresses. I no longer know for sure.
    They exchanged a few words and started walking down that avenue, out beyond the suburbs.
    They kept a step apart. They scarcely spoke.
    I think I can see what Lol Stein must have seen:
    There is an incredible contact between them, which does not stem from an intimate knowledge of each other but, on the contrary, from a disdain for such knowledge. They both have the same expression of silent consternation, of terror, of profound indifference. The closer they get to their destination, the faster they walk. Lol Stein watches these lovers, she devours them with her eyes, she invents them. She is not deceived by the way they look, not she. They don't love each other. What is there for her to say? Others surely would say it. If she were to talk she would phrase it differently, but she does not speak. Other ties bind them in a grip which is not one of sentiment or of happiness, it is something else which bestows neither joy nor sorrow. They are neither happy nor unhappy. Their union is constructed upon indifference, in a way which is general and which they apprehend moment by moment, a union