Cercando La grande bellezza Page #3

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- Are you going to bed?

- Last night I went to bed at 22:30.

Now I don't know what to do.

Morning is an unknown object to me.

Unknown.

Sir can help me clean

the house then.

- Sir can't, sir feels strange.

- Sir is a rascal.

"Is there a new nation struggling

within the walls of the city?

From the crevices of that soil

a feverish vapour ascends like smoke

and works like a magic philtre

in the blood of some men

producing a form of heroic madness

unlike any other."

What do you think? Sh*t,

it's powerful, don't you think?

Why the hell do an adaptation

of D'Annunzio for the stage?

D'Annunzio has always been

paradigmatic...

You think that certain

intellectual feats give you dignity,

and that others are better than you,

but you're wrong!

Try and write something of your own,

like...

a feeling, or sorrow...

I've known you ages

but you've never been here.

Don't get big-headed, you've got

a room in a student flat...

Are you going out with that

gloomy girl you're always with?

I wish!

I've tried it on 7,000 times.

I've never even had a kiss,

not one!

- She's a b*tch.

- No, she's not.

- She's complicated.

- She's a b*tch.

Trust me, you're too kind.

I can tell her type from a mile off,

I don't even need to meet them.

- What are you doing with that hat?

- My morning exercise.

- That's exercise?

- Yes!

Do you know how many women

you've been with?

No, I'm rubbish at maths.

I've always been good at maths.

It's six, I introduced you to them.

Seven.

- Seven?

- Seven.

- When did number seven happen?

- Last summer.

A friend of my sister's back home

when I went to see my folks.

She runs a shop...

- She's nice.

- That means she's a dog.

What about you and Orietta?

- Who's Orietta?

- Don't you know?

She was at your house...

A real beauty.

At my age, a beauty isn't enough.

I might take up writing again.

That's great news!

Has something happened?

Why?

You want to write again after all

these years, something's happened.

Something always happens in Rome.

Nothing's happened.

What are you looking at?

Come here.

They met at university

10 days ago.

They haven't stopped kissing

for 10 days.

This generation of youths

horrifies me.

Supported by this state for years,

when they realise they're smart,

they go study or work in America

or London,

forgetting about the support.

They have no civil vocation.

As a young girl,

in the occupied arts department,

I oozed civil vocation.

- Is that so?

- Yes, why?

- Come off it...

- What do you know?

In those years you were in Naples

being a loafer with posh girls

and writing your only novelette.

I didn't notice that history

was being made.

Novelette? It was a masterpiece

of Italian literature!

I confirm that Jep and civil

vocation never got along,

he was lazy and the other

hyperactive.

Romano, stop sucking up to your

idol, you're pathetic!

"The Human Apparatus"

was a narrow-minded, frivolous book

and pretentious too, like its title.

Jep knows that.

- That's why he stopped there.

- Sorry, what about you then?

I tried changing things

with literature.

I wrote 11 novels, and a book about

the Party's official history.

You're forgetting your contribution

to that reality show...

"Girl Farm".

Television can be

a very formative experience!

I always go when I'm invited.

I get my hands dirty,

I try things...

I don't spend my life being a snob.

Are you saying that a socially

committed writer is advantaged,

and safeguarded,

compared to a novelist

who deals with, how can I say...

with feelings?

Of course she is!

The cause someone commits

their life to isn't secondary.

Like creating a family,

dedicating oneself with sacrifice

to raising one's children day

after day.

Eusebio and I have four children,

we plan the future together.

I work hard

to be both a mother and a woman,

but at the end of the day I feel

I've done something important.

So if we don't have children

we should contemplate

the idea of suicide?

- I don't mean you, of course.

- She means me.

Dadina, I admire you greatly.

You're a badass.

Do you use "badass"

in any of your 11 novels?

Yes, I do, I try to be modern.

- Modernity is badass.

- De gustibus.

What great conviction!

Should I envy you or be repelled?

Yes, I have convictions.

I'm 53...

- You'd never know.

- Never.

I'm 53, I've suffered,

I bounced back,

and learned lots about life.

Well, I can see you have nothing

to say, at last.

I was drinking...

As we care about you,

we don't want to embarrass you.

You know, all this boastful talk,

all this serious ostentatiousness,

all this ego...

These harsh damning judgments

of yours

hide a certain fragility,

a feeling of inadequacy

and above all a series of untruths.

We care about you, we know you.

We also know our untruths

and for this, unlike you,

we end up talking about nonsense,

about trivial matters,

because we don't want

to revel in our pettiness.

What untruths

are you talking about?

Everything I said is true,

it's what I am, what I believe in.

Please, I'm a gentleman.

Don't destroy my only certainty.

Tell me exactly what my lies are

and what my fragility is!

I'm a woman with balls, tell me!

"Woman with balls" would be too much

for any gentleman.

All right, Stefania,

you asked for it. In random order:

Your civil vocation during

your student days went unnoticed.

But another vocation of yours

is remembered by many,

the one practiced by you then,

in the university toilets.

You wrote about the Party because

you were its leader's mistress.

And your 11 novels,

published by a small publishing

house subsidized by the Party,

reviewed by minor Party-affiliated

newspapers,

are insignificant,

everyone says so.

I'm not saying my novelette

was any better,

I agree with you there.

Your relationship with Eusebio...

What relationship? Eusebio

loves Giordano, everyone knows.

He has for years.

They lunch every day

at Arnaldo's, under the coat rack,

like sweethearts under an oak tree.

You all know but turn a blind eye.

Your dedication to your children,

with all the sacrifices entailed...

You work all week in TV,

you go out every night,

even on Mondays, when popper

dealers don't even venture out.

You're never with your children,

not even on the

long holidays you take.

And plus you have a butler,

a waiter,

a cook, a chauffeur

who drives the kids to school,

three babysitters, so...

how and when exactly

do you make any sacrifices?

These are the untruths and fragility

I'm talking about.

Stefania, mother and woman.

You're 53, with a life in tatters,

like the rest of us.

Instead of acting superior

and treating us with contempt,

you should look at us

with affection.

We're all on the brink of despair,

all we can do

is look each other in the face,

keep each other company,

joke a little...

Don't you agree?

Son of a b*tch!

Egidio, old chap!

Bastard!

I haven't seen you in 30 years!

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