Legaturi Bolnavicioase Page #5

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- How was the journey?

- Fine. Took us about two hours.

- When did you leave Bucharest?

- At 11.

But around Targoviste I drove in circles a bit,

because of the one-way streets.

- Didn't Sandutsa co-pilot you?

- I did.

Well, the road from Targoviste

isn't the best. Potholes and so on.

- Are you cold?

- A little bit.

- I'll start the fire.

- Kiki will sleep in my room. Cristina.

- We prepared the guest room.

- Never mind, Petrica.

- Leave it to them.

- They'll be more comfortable.

It's okay. The cabbage will be ready

in half an hour.

Better go unpack until then.

Come.

- I'm so sleepy.

- We'll go drink coffee now.

Forget the coffee.

I'd rather sleep.

- How about my room?

- Beautiful. Like you.

- May I?

- Yes.

Dad, there was a lamp here.

- I'll bring you ours.

- Where's mine?

Your mother took it when she graded

her school tests.

- Can you get it for me?

- Sure. Right away.

Your parents are so nice.

So chilled, like they're on Prozac.

Let's listen to a story.

Let's see what's on the menu.

"The Little Fairy,"

"Rice Straw"...

This is the one.

Does the record player work?

I forgot to ask.

Naturally. In this household

everything is like clockwork.

Once upon a time, there lived

an emperor and an empress.

LOCAL FIRE STATION

Both were young and beautiful. But both were

unbearably sad, because they were unable 2 have a child.

After a long search,

they found a clever wizard

who gave the empress

a powerful potion.

And, one day, the palace

resounded with a baby's cries.

We were feeling like two inseparable sisters,

spending our holidays at our grandparents' house.

We didn't care about a thing.

We were unaware of jealousy,

bitterness or envy.

We wished only to be together.

Let's go.

- Cute chick.

- My ears are ringing.

- Where are we going?

- To the bar, for a drink.

- What will you lovely things have?

- Is there a price list? No, hold on.

What is there to drink?

We have everything. I see you're city girls.

We have all you could possibly want.

- Do you want a price list?

- Do you have one?

Look, "Cristina" is a refined spirit.

It's gone up to 12,500.

Let's get that.

What's it like?

No? Then let's get two Beck's.

What about cigarettes?

Snagov, Carpati, or the foreign ones.

I thought you could only get Snagov

in Bucharest.

- Do you want a Snagov?

- No, Carpati.

This is the first time I've set foot

in a bar here.

It's just awesome.

I want to move to your town.

Everything here is surreal.

- And the cigarettes?

- I forgot.

- Could you bring them now?

- Right away.

- Cheers!

- Cheers!

This glass has the lip marks of

everyone who's ever sipped from it!

In the old days,

people weren't so keen on hygiene.

Cleanliness has made us weaker.

It's smothered our desires.

First, you love a person's smell, and

then you go on, building upon that.

- How does my skin smell?

- Heavy. - Here you go.

- What do you mean, heavy?

You smell like a flower

that is neither alive nor dead,

because no one

has changed its water for weeks.

You have a sleepy smell, like

when you wake up in the morning,

and you've been dreaming too long.

Do you like Sandu?

I mean, as a woman would?

I mean, he's a handsome guy.

He looks good.

- He's my brother.

- Brothers and sisters sometimes fall in love.

- Just like in Ren.

- Like in what?

Ren, by Chateaubriand. Although

a love story like that is hopeless.

This love story you're talking about

is hopeless because it's unreal.

If the writer had believed in it, then

Ren and his sister would have had a chance.

But he constructed the story in order to

make the character sick with melancholy.

No, you're wrong.

Although he seems doomed,

his love for his sister

could have evolved

like in any normal relationship,

if he'd been willing to accept that happiness,

just like unhappiness, has several nuances.

You talk as if Ren were real.

I don't think it's even a love story.

It's just an example

of Romantic virtues

and the simplistic way

those people viewed the world.

Just remember all that crap

that Freud would have psychoanalyzed away.

His mother who dies at his birth,

and his sister who commits suicide.

And, above all, God dispensing

justice. It's all so black or white.

The love story doesn't stand a chance

if the writer doesn't believe in it.

And besides, if you tell this story

to a monk, it becomes a confession,

and this means that,

morally speaking,

you've prejudged it,

in spite of your deeper feelings.

Get it?

But, leaving the author's

abstractions aside,

do you think the relationship

between Ren and Amlie

is based on true love

or a sick attraction?

What's your point?

I was wondering if, however we

analyse or judge this relationship,

it actually might not be

something sordid.

You think like a saint!

Let's go.

You can't use love to excuse

a relationship that's practically obscene.

Well, yes, you can account for the story by

its biographical elements, because, from birth,

the character lives

in the shadow of doom.

And his sister will play

a maternal role.

Which eventually leads us

to a much older and a more beautiful story.

I like this story.

Do you want to tour Pietrosita

by night or play some soccer?

I used to be good at soccer!

Look, there's the house.

It's not far.

I guess you're done

with romanticism tonight.

You don't care much

for Chateaubriand.

Actually, what you like in this story

is its very obscenity.

But you can't condemn it because

it's based on a noble feeling.

I like their recklessness,

the irresponsible way

in which they justify

their sexual impulses

by finding a correspondent for them

in the changes of nature.

Is what made me fall in love with you.

There's nothing real

about Ren and Amlie.

I know from experience

that things are completely different.

You mean your experience

with Sandu?

Like any relationship, one person can

be moral and the other can be immoral.

But this doesn't necessarily make

the relationship itself immoral.

Who's the immoral one?

- Sandu.

You have no idea what he's like.

He'd do anything,

if it was in his interest.

He'd go to Switzerland tomorrow

and leave me alone, if he had it going good.

Nothing else matters.

But you're not alone.

You're with me.

And with her.

Want to take your top off?

I want to see your breasts

in the moonlight.

I was really hurt when

you went upstairs with your brother.

When?

When I waited 20 minutes

for you in the cab.

Did I do something

to make you angry?

No. Tonight I'm very happy.

Would you have a breast job

if I asked you to?

You mean have them made bigger?

Bigger, smaller...

I just want to know if you would.

Come on, Sanduta!

Would you like me to have

bigger breasts?

No, because mine aren't big, either.

Come on, would you?

Maybe, for you. But I couldn't stand

some stranger touching me.

So how did you manage

at the gynecologist's?

Never been.

It's horrible. It feels all...

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