ANA: (
To
SANTIAGO) Are you speaking from personal experience? When you ran off with that other woman, you hardly touched me for months. You didn’t have any waves to ride, and yet you seemed to lose your sexual appetite too.
SANTIAGO: (
Discovering
ANA) No, I didn’t. I just didn’t fancy you any more, that’s all. I used to make love every day with Adèle. In fact several times a day. Nine times, on one occasion, like Victor Hugo on his wedding night. Didn’t I, Adèle?
KATHIE: (
Transformed into a young and bright little coquette)
No, professor, you didn’t. But don’t worry, I won’t give away your little secret. You could never manage it more than twice a day, and with a long break in between. Ha ha ha …
SANTIAGO: (
To
ANA,
furiously
) And I’ll tell you something else. The thought of night used to fill me with dread because it meant I’d have to share a bed with you. That was why I left you.
KATHIE: (
Becoming herself again, but still lost in her memories
)
Going to bed … that got boring too, like going to the Waikiki and all those parties.
ANA: (
To
SANTIAGO) In other words you behaved just like the sort of person you claimed to loathe so vehemently: like a good middle-class man. Didn’t you use to say that it was the most despicable thing in the world? Have you already forgotten what you used to teach me? All those lectures you gave me to make a free, liberated, emancipated woman of me.
(SANTIAGO
declaims very seriously, to ANA, who listens to him fascinated.
KATHIE,
who has now become Adèle, puts on nail varnish and looks at him mockingly from time to time.
)
SANTIAGO: It’s not passionate love, but love based on mutual understanding. That’s what our relationship will be, Anita. Passionate love is a sham, a bourgeois swindle, a fraud, an illusion, a trap. A relationship founded solely on sexual attraction, in which everything is justified in the name of pleasure, spontaneity and natural impulse, is bound to be false and ephemeral. Sexual desire isn’t everything nor should it ever be, it isn’t even what fundamentally binds us together. No partnership can possibly last if it’s reliant solely on lust.
(KATHIE,
still Adèle, bursts out laughing, but
ANA
nods, trying to understand.
)
KATHIE: (
Smiles; returning to being herself
) And yet, it was nice to begin with, when we used to hug each other every night and you used to say those naughty things to me, Johnny darling. I used to go quite puce with embarrassment, it made me dizzy, it was lovely. It seemed everything was going to be as I’d always dreamt, that I’d find meaning to life, that I’d be happy and fulfilled.
SANTIAGO: In a relationship based on mutual understanding, sex is just one component amongst many and it isn’t even the most important, either. Such a relationship is founded on a sharing of ideals, a spirit of selflessness, a struggle for common causes, mutual participation in work, and a feeling of moral, spiritual and intellectual empathy.
ANA: (
To
SANTIAGO) I tried to please you. I did everything you
asked me to do so that this special relationship you described could flourish. Well, did I or didn’t I? Didn’t I give up my job in the boutique? Didn’t I take up sociology, as you suggested, instead of interior design which was what I really wanted to do?
JUAN: (
From his surfboard
) Am I or am I not as good in bed as I am on the surfboard, Kathie? Am I or am I not better than Victor Hugo, Adèle?
KATHIE: You are, Johnny darling. That’s why so many young girls are always throwing themselves into your arms. Blondes, brunettes, redheads, yellowheads. That’s why you’re unfaithful to me in so many different languages and on so many different continents, Johnny darling.
ANA: (
To
SANTIAGO) Didn’t I try to please you by wearing what you wanted me to wear? I stopped putting on lipstick, nail varnish, and make-up, because you said it was frivolous and bourgeois. And what did I gain by trying to please you? I stopped pleasing you, that’s what.
SANTIAGO: (
To
KATHIE,
all sweetness and flattery
) You know, you’ve got very pretty hair, Adèle.
(KATHIE
is transformed into Adèle; she seems to coo and croon
.)
KATHIE: So that it stays that way – soft, shiny, wavy and bouncy, I give it one of my special treatments twice a week. Shall I tell you what it is, professor? But you mustn’t breathe a word about it to the other girls in the faculty. Promise? You take one egg yolk, an avocado pear and three teaspoonfuls of oil. You put them all in the liquidizer for half a minute, then you daub the paste all over your hair and leave it to dry for three-quarters of an hour. You then wash it with a good shampoo and rinse it. It looks nice, don’t you think?
SANTIAGO: (
Entranced
) Very nice indeed: soft, shiny, bouncy and wavy. You’ve get pretty hands too, Adèle.
KATHIE: (
Looking at them, showing them off
) To stop them from getting rough and the skin from getting hard, and so that they look smooth and silky like two little Persian kittens, I’ve got a little secret for them too. Or rather, I’ve got two little secrets. Every morning for ten minutes I give
them a good rub with lemon juice and, every night, for another ten minutes with coconut milk. They look nice, don’t they?
SANTIAGO: (
Entranced
) Yes, as smooth and silky as two little Persian kittens. Whenever I catch a glimpse of them in the lectures, they remind me of two tiny white doves, fluttering across the desks.
KATHIE: Ah, what a poetic little compliment! Do you really like them that much, professor?
SANTIAGO: I like everything about you, your hair, your nose, your eyes … Why do you call me ‘professor’? Why are you always making fun of me?
KATHIE: Well, aren’t you my professor? It’s a question of respect. What would my fellow students say if they heard me call the first-year lecturer in Golden Age Literature, Mark – Mark Griffin?
SANTIAGO: Is that why you address me so formally?
KATHIE: You should always address older people formally.
SANTIAGO: In other words you think I’m ancient.
KATHIE: Not ancient, no. Just an older man. Who’s married, with two little daughters. Do you have a photo of them in your wallet that you can show me?
SANTIAGO: You know you’re very wicked, Adèle?
KATHIE: A lot of people like me for it.
SANTIAGO: Yes. I do, for one. I like you very much. You know that, don’t you?
KATHIE: It’s the first I’d heard of it. And what is it you like most about me?
SANTIAGO: You’re such a flirt.
KATHIE: Do you really think I’m a flirt?
SANTIAGO: The very devil in person.
KATHIE: Now tell me what you don’t like about me.
SANTIAGO: The fact that you refuse to go out with me.
KATHIE: You crafty old thing, professor.
SANTIAGO: Seriously though, Adèle, why won’t you? Bourgeois prejudice? What’s wrong with going to the cinema together, for instance? Or listening to a little music?
KATHIE: All right, I accept. But on one condition.
SANTIAGO: Whatever you want.
KATHIE: That we take your wife and two little girls with us. And now, I’m going off to study. I don’t want you giving me bad marks. If you behave yourself, I’ll let you into another secret some time: I’ll tell you how I keep my teeth sparkling and my eyes shining, how I stop my nails from breaking, and why I never get freckles or a double chin.
Ciao,
professor.
SANTIAGO:
Ciao,
Adèle. (
To himself
) She’s so gorgeous, so delicious, so exciting.
ANA: And I stopped being gorgeous, delicious and exciting because you said it was frivolous and bourgeois.
SANTIAGO: (
Pensively
) Well, it was. (
Discovering
ANA) It is, Anita. Am I to blame if it’s the frivolous, bourgeois women that happen to turn me on? Is it my fault if all these free liberated women are so earnest and sober that they leave me absolutely cold, Anita? A leopard can’t change his spots. Moral principle and political persuasion carry no weight at all when it’s a matter of basic human nature.
ANA: But how come? Didn’t you teach me there was no such thing as human nature?
SANTIAGO: (
Pontificating
) It doesn’t exist. Human nature doesn’t exist, Anita. It’s just another piece of bourgeois trickery to justify the exploitation of the masses, Anita.
ANA: You miserable cheat! You liar!
SANTIAGO: (
Magisterial
) Man is made of malleable stuff, Anita. Everyone makes of himself what he chooses, Anita! Only thus can one have faith in the progress of humanity, Anita! You really must read Jean-Paul Sartre, Anita!
ANA: You really led me up the garden path, Mark Griffin.
SANTIAGO: (
Pensive again
) Jean-Paul Sartre really led me up the garden path, Anita.
KATHIE: (
Becoming herself again
) That’s something you could never do, Johnny darling. I always saw through you straight away.
JUAN: (
Still concentrating on the waves
) That time you caught
me with Maritza, you scratched my face so savagely the mark lasted for two whole weeks.
KATHIE: Every time you were unfaithful to me, I felt as if I’d been branded with a red-hot iron. Lying awake at night, weeping, I thought the world was coming to an end, I used to grind my teeth with the humiliation of it all. I began to lose weight; I started to get bags under my eyes; I made scenes.
JUAN: How they laughed at me at the Waikiki when they saw those scratches!
ANA: If, instead of trying to live up to your anti-bourgeois principles, I’d paid more attention to my mother, you might never have gone off with Adèle.
SANTIAGO: (
Pensively
) And what advice did that petit-bourgeois social climber from Santa Beatriz give you? Always hobnobbing with the smart set in Orrantia.
KATHIE: (
Lecturing
ANA,
as if she were her small daughter
) You’ve got to be quite ruthless with men, Anita. You’ve got to use a bit of cunning. Your husband may be an intellectual or what have you, but what really counts in life is sex. Now I may not know the first thing about intellectuals, but I know quite a lot about sex. If you don’t want to lose him, if you don’t want him to go out with too many other women, keep him in suspense, and don’t ever let him take you for granted.
ANA: And what do I do to keep Santiago in suspense, Mummy?
KATHIE: Keep him on a tight rein then give him his head from time to time. You play the perfect lady by day and the degenerate whore by night. Perfume, music, mirrors, every kind of luxury, the more bizarre and decadent the better: let him drown with joy! But not every day: only when you decide and when it suits you. Keep him on a tight rein. From time to time the whore can turn frigid; for a week or so, the courtesan may wear a veil. And, as a last resort, there’s always jealousy. The sudden exit, the mysterious phone call, ostentatious little whispers to friends at parties, contrariness, sighing. Let him suspect all he likes, let him be consumed with jealousy! It may cost you a
knock or two but so what? There’s no such thing as love without the odd blow! Keep him in suspense and you’ll have him all over you morning, noon and night!
ANA: You trusted me blindly and that’s what finished it. But that Adèle, she really put you through the hoop, and you ran after her like a dog, Mark Griffin.
JUAN: Jealousy is fantastic, Pussikins! I only say that for the closeness one feels after it. You know, for all you say, you’re very attractive when you’re jealous. The best love-making we’ve ever had has been after a row. Like in Hawaii, when you caught me with that Eurasian girl on the beach. You were so vicious to her, Kathie. But how exquisite it was afterwards, how exquisite! We made love on the sand, and then in the sea, then on that artificial lawn, remember, and then in the sea again. Wasn’t it fabulous, darling?
KATHIE: Not that fabulous really, no.
JUAN: Well, if you really want to know, Kathie, you’re not that good at it, you’re not exactly what one might call a sexual athlete. In fact you’re quite … uninteresting really. You yawn, you fall asleep, you get embarrassed, you burst out laughing. The trouble is, darling, you don’t take sex seriously! And it’s the most serious thing in the world! It’s like surfing, Kathie!
KATHIE: Some people have happier recollections of my talents, Johnny darling.
(JUAN
and
ANA
disappear.
)
SANTIAGO: (
In a slightly aggressive, sarcastic tone of voice
) The prurient perfume-seller of Cairo, for instance?
KATHIE: What exactly are you trying to say, Mr Mark Griffin?
SANTIAGO: You know very well, you poor menopausal little rich girl, you neurotic millionairess, you pseud, you exploiter of progressive intellectuals. You know very well, Kathie Kennety.