Henry & June

It began so innocently. | They said it was strange a woman...

would want to publish a defense | of D.H. Lawrence...

and that his words are considered | an incitement to sex.

- Then he said, "You write about sex... " | - With some authority, Miss Nin.

You must've led a rather free life.

Free?

You must've had a lot | of experience.

You know, affairs.

I'm interested in how you came...

to have such insights | into the erotic.

For literature. | Yes, I love Proust and...

I suppose my real awakening | came when my husband Hugo and I...

first arrived in Paris | and rented a bachelor apartment...

for the summer.

One day, I was tidying up.

As I was going through the closets...

where the owner left his belongings...

I discovered...

In that closet...

I became familiar with the endless | varieties of erotic experience.

Come here.

- Hugo! | - I thought you might need a lift.

Are you all right, P*ssy Willow?

- He kissed me. | - What? Oh, my God!

It was just one kiss.

He kisses me once.

Then he caresses all of my body.

He seeks my breasts...

and my most secret, | sensitive part.

His hands are deft.

I'm tempted by unknown pleasures.

When I see that I have let him | be aroused...

I let him release his desire | between my legs.

I just let him...

out of pity.

I tell Hugo...

only part of the story.

P*ssy Willow!

Remember to meet me at 8:00 tonight.

Oh, Hugo, would you mind very much | if I didn't go this evening?

I would mind.

I'm sorry, but all they talk about are | bad loans, trusts or estate planning.

Estate planning can be very creative!

Look, the bank is how we got to Paris.

I need this job and I admit | I sometimes enjoy it. Why not?

Why not?

You're changing into someone else.

You are even beginning to smell | like the bank.

I'm working so you can write.

I need to know people who are alive.

You're not consummating. | You're holding back.

Do it again.

I can't seem to concentrate anymore, | Eduardo.

My life? Sometimes I think | I need something else.

An older man, | a man stronger than I am.

You like to make me suffer.

I've loved you | since we were children, Anais.

But, I've always had a fear that...

I wouldn't be able to.

Look at them. | They're so exquisite.

If I were a man, | I'd be swept away.

They don't move me like you do.

Hell of a place you got here, Hugo. | Peaceful.

Been here long?

- Just since the Crash. | - Since the Crash? How'd you live before?

We lived well.

This is Henry Miller, the American | writer Osborn is putting up. My wife.

- Anais Nin. | - How are you, Anais?

Eduardo Sanchez, Anais' cousin.

Anais, you ought to read Henry's stuff. | He's got it over D.H. Lawrence.

- I'd love to read what you've written. | - Henry hasn't been published yet.

And you're comparing him to Lawrence?

I don't want to be compared to Lawrence. | He would've hated the way I write.

- Henry writes for the man on the street. | - I don't care for his writing.

Anais has been writing a book | about Lawrence.

Perhaps his sexuality | is too strong for you.

Too strong? He's childish. | He's prudish.

The French have been writing | about this. Rabelais, Flaubert!

I can't imagine any modern writer | not to owe a debt to Lawrence.

We should eat.

He makes too much out of sex. | He makes a damn gospel out of it.

To my way of thinking, | sex is natural...

like birth or death.

I'm not interested in literature | or poetry as we know it.

What are you interested in?

- Henry writes about f***ing. | - F***ing?

I'm writing about self-liberation.

- It's definitely about f***ing. | - We should eat something.

Amelia's waiting.

I flipped through more pages, | and I realize...

this is my own novel I'm reading | with some joker's name on it...

written in French, being sold | in the best bookstore in Paris.

- Unbelievable. | - How's that possible?

Remember last year when some guy stole | my briefcase with my manuscript in it?

This guy swiped my manuscript, but what | he doesn't realize is I'll get him.

The souffle is from | an old family recipe.

So this is a souffle!

I hope it's substantial enough.

This joker doesn't know I'll get him | because I'm a copyright lawyer.

I'll go after him | like I went after the other joker.

- The guy who stole your play. | - That's on Broadway.

That's on Broadway... | I told you this already?

About how this guy must've stolen | my play out of my briefcase?

I'd be a well-received writer by now | if it weren't for these jokers.

But I'll get them. I'm not taking | any chances. This is my new baby.

You're laughing at me?

I just feel so good. Wonderful.

What a fine moment we have here. | A free lunch.

Fire in the fireplace. | Wonderful wines.

The colors blue and orange. | It's wonderful! No other word for it.

What do you write, | poetry or something?

Most of my writing | is in these diaries.

No, I never let anyone read it.

I never show it to anyone...

except Hugo...

sometimes.

I always wanted to read The Captive. | La Prisonnier.

I want you to have it.

I'll borrow it. Thanks.

P*ssy Willow!

I used to go to the six-day bike races | we had in Brooklyn.

Yeah, I love bikes.

- But I couldn't take it. | - I want you to have it.

- What will you use? | - I'll borrow yours.

You can't ride a man's bike. | Henry should take mine.

Hey, thanks, Hugo.

That's swell of ya. | I can really use this.

I'll visit.

Come on, Eduardo, I'll race you | back to Paris before it gets dark.

On your mark. | Come on.

I don't race anymore. To me, a bike | is just a means of getting home.

Get set.

- You're no match for me. | - Are you set, Eduardo?

- I warn you I used to race. | - Go!

- I'd love to read something he wrote. | - Fat chance. He'll never get published.

I've met Henry Miller.

He is virile, flamboyant.

He is a man life intoxicates.

He is like me.

But he doesn't know it yet.

Henry's quite a character.

Good night.

'Night, Hugo.

- Let me help you. | - I'll be fine.

Osborn said he'd be home, | and I want to surprise Henry.

I thought you could use a hand. | You're all right?

Yes, I'm fine!

I'll take the train, | and meet you home later.

I'll wait a minute just in case.

I don't want you to wait.

I'll see you tonight.

See you tonight.

Henry?

Osborn?

- Oh, excuse me! | - Oh, God, I forgot.

- I'm sorry. | - No, I'm sorry.

Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Wait.

Hiya, kid. | Slumming, huh?

I went to Osborn's place. | He told me where to find you.

I brought my typewriter. | I thought you should have it.

Can we go and sit down somewhere?

Why not?

There's a little cafe back here.

Come on.

That actress in the film...

she reminds you of someone.

A woman who obsesses you.

I know that feeling.

I'm often obsessed.

You oughta eat something, kid. | You eat like a bird.

All right, I'll tell ya.

June appeared like an angel. | I offered her a fool's fate.

She was a taxi dancer.

I paid my dime.

She put her head on my shoulder.

But then the lies began.

She told me her mother | was a Gypsy.

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