Nymphomaniac: Vol. I Page #6

Ajigsaw puzzle?

I found details

in the other passengers

that reminded me of Jerome.

But in the long run,

I couldn't hold onto

the details of him,

no matter how hard I tried.

So, you could say that in a way,

Jerome followed you

as a kind of silhouette.

Yes, but gradually disappearing

as a sexual being.

Maybe that's how it is with memory.

You remember silhouettes.

The essentials.

But that's not necessarily

a bad thing.

Of course

there's silhouettes in the winter.

The trees are difficult

to tell apart.

These buds...

My father

wrestled courageously

with his flora

and tree type guides.

It's actually...

the souls of the trees

we see in the winter.

In summer, everything's

green and idyllic,

but in the winter, the branches

and the trunks, they all stand out.

Look at how crooked they all are.

The branches have to carry

all of the leaves into the sunlight.

It's one long struggle for survival.

My father surprised

me by calling the naked trunks

the souls of the trees.

A poetic thought

that was rare for him,

as by his own account, he preferred

the empirical sciences.

And after Jerome?

I reacted, um...

Well, let's just say... aggressively.

- How?

- By intensifying my hunt for men.

You know

these supermarket doors

that open and close by way

of some kind of sensor?

Now compare these doors

to my c*nt,

and add an extraordinarily

sensitive sensor.

My sensitive door opening

gave me an opportunity

to develop my morphological studies

from knees to genitals.

I embarked on a trip through, what,

in the lingo of children's books,

one might call, "The Country

of the Big, Bad C*cks."

"The Country of the Small

Yellow C*cks," and so on.

And most of all, I battled my way

through an untold number

of circumcised c*cks.

By the way, did you know

that if you combine

all the foreskin cut off

through history,

it would reach to Mars

and back again?

"Mrs. H."

By now, I had

built up a sizable circle of men,

and was starting to have trouble

remembering who was who.

Hello, sweetheart.

Want to meet?

It's Fisher.

I'm lying here thinking

of you and what you said.

I'm not angry at all if that's

what you're thinking.

Hi, Joe. It's Rob again.

I had a really

good time seeing you.

Give me a... Give me a call.

Hi, Joe.

I left a couple of messages.

Is everything all right?

I quickly gave up

trying to remember

the individual relationships.

It was impossible.

And impossible to predict

what they wanted to hear.

So I invented a method.

It was all based on chance.

A one meant

an overly loving answer.

A two, not quite as passionate,

but still positive.

And so on, up to five,

which was a complete rejection.

And six, no answer at all.

The trick with this method

was that I didn't have to worry about

the individual relationships,

but instead became

completely unpredictable,

which, of course,

drove the men even wilder.

Hey, Eddie, it's me.

Listen, I've given this

a lot of thought,

and I've come to the conclusion

that we're done. Bye.

I was just wondering

if you wanted to come back,

and maybe we can

do something nice.

Hi, Patrick, it's Joe.

I had a really lovely time with you,

and I'd love for you to come back.

If you're interested,

let me know. Bye.

I really don't think we match,

and you're quite annoying,

so I don't want to see you anymore.

Please don't call back.

That sounds rather stressful.

Yes, actually, it was.

But fortunately, I had

my little book of comfort.

When I needed comfort or peace,

I took out my herbarium

and looked at my favorite leaves.

Ash, trembling aspen and lime.

When you're dealing

with a larger group of lovers

as I was, there will typically be

a difference in their qualities.

H was a sticky bastard.

I had invited A for dinner,

as he was my favorite,

while H, who was present,

had become quite irritating.

You have to leave.

I've got guests for dinner.

But he's not coming until seven.

No. But seven isn't that far away.

Do you love me?

A was to arrive at seven,

and I needed to get H

out of there.

I love you too much.

You keep promising,

but I understand now

that you'll never leave

your family for my sake.

It's sad, but...

it's your choice.

It's not satisfying for me that

I can't have you completely.

Which is why we can't

see each other any longer.

Goodbye.

Look...

Have a nice life.

My darling, I'm yours.

I've left her.

- Has he gone inside?

- Yes.

Is the door closed?

- Uh, hello.

- Hello.

Apologize. We, uh...

had promised not to come up.

We just wanted to...

make sure he got here safely,

now that he's...

made the big decision.

May the children see him inside?

They say that the experience

of saying goodbye

can be very useful later

when dealing with trauma.

What a nice place.

It's, uh... so bohemian.

We used to have a place

like this before we were...

we were married.

Before the children,

me and my husband.

Oh, I'm sorry.

He isn't anymore, is he?

It's all so new and confusing.

He wanted to give us

everything, but, uh...

Of course we couldn't accept that.

Oh, that's right.

- You need the car key.

- No, I don't need the car.

Oh, yes, you do.

He likes the car.

Here.

- Please, just take it.

- I don't want it.

- Just take it.

- I don't want the f***ing car!

It's all right.

We'll get the bus home.

Children might as well get used

to public transport now, right?

Of course, their standard of living

won't be the same anymore, but...

I'm not saying that

to bother anyone.

One has to be realistic.

Hey.

What's this?

It's a present.

A pillow he has embroidered himself.

- And who's it for?

- Daddy.

I do hope it's all right

if the children

call their father "Daddy" here.

If you prefer, they can call him...

"him," or simply, "the man."

Whatever.

"Whatever."

Must be hard when

you've got everything,

to know what to say.

To be honest,

my first thought was never,

ever to let either

of you see the children,

but then I changed my mind.

I thought it only right that

their father be confronted

by the little people

whose lives he's destroyed.

Give Daddy your present.

It's a car the little dear

has embroidered.

I'm aware that

not everyone can see it, but...

with the heart one can see much,

however unimportant that

information may be to you.

Would it be all right if I show

the children the whoring bed?

After all, they also had

a stake in this event.

You need to see it.

Right?

Let's go see

Daddy's favorite place.

Come on, boys.

Oh!

So this is where it all happened.

You should try to

memorize this room.

Especially the bed.

It'll stand you in good stead

later in therapy.

Oh.

Here I sit rambling on about therapy

without a thought

of what it might cost.

I do hope you don't think

we're here to beg.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Being silly. Mommy's being silly.

Let's have a cup of tea.

Hope it's not too weak.

Afraid I'm rather nervous.

The children's father likes

two lumps of sugar in his tea.

Rate this script:3.5 / 2 votes