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362 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1960
In fact it might even come about that, just as at one time going to live in Via Margutta had served, for a little, to renew my confidence in my work, so now, coming back to my mother’s villa would inspire in me once again – even if only for a short time – the illusion offered me by painting: life, in essence, consisted merely in this continual change of position; it was like being in an uncomfortable bed in which it was impossible to sleep for long on one side.
Adolescent from the waist up, grown woman from the waist down, Cecilia gave rather the idea of one of those decorative monsters which are depicted in ancient frescoes: a kind of sphinx or harpy, a boyish torso grafted with grotesque effect onto a powerful belly and legs.
As I looked at her I could not help succumbing to the masculine illusion which looks upon physical possession as the only true possession. Yes, I thought, Cecilia evaded me, she withdrew herself from me; but if I took her again – who knows? – possibly I might succeed this time in nullifying the feeling of not possessing her, I might succeed in possessing her truly and decisively.
"Algunos pensarán, en este punto, que Cecilia era tonta y, por consiguiente, falta de personalidad, pero no era así; que Cecilia no tenía un pelo de tonta lo demostraba el hecho de que nunca le había oído decir tonterías."Por otra parte, es Moravia, pero...