The Belly of an Architect Page #3

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Putting on a little more weight...

becoming more Roman.

I've guessed.

What?

It's all right.

Have you told Kracklite?

-No. I haven't. | -Why not?

If you could guess that I was pregnant, | why couldn't he?

July 31. Dear Boulle...

the Italians are catching on at last. | They're actually beginning to like you...

though it doesn't seem | to make them work any faster.

Caspasian has already spent 400 million lire.

There seems to be very little to show for it.

Careful.

If we intend to open on your birthday, | as we must...

we have barely six months to go. Six.

Six months.

-Why is it so difficult? | -Difficult?

Everything has got to be debated, | or qualified, or contradicted.

They're not difficult. You have them excited.

This is the first time the Victor Emmanuel | Building is being used for an exhibition.

-You ought to be grateful. | -Grateful.

Where is Caspasian? He should be here.

-Caspasian's out buying. | -Buying what?

He's having the staircase repainted.

He's ordered 2,000 liters | of blue matte emulsion...

and the same of green.

Blue and green? No.

There's gonna be no blue and no green | in my exhibition.

-Boulle hated those colors. | -How did you discover that?

Caspasian's found...

$25,000 worth of laser equipment.

What the hell for?

He's got a plan to use laser beams...

to join all the buildings in Rome | that influenced Boulle.

Jesus Christ!

He's turning this exhibition | into a goddamn carnival.

He's got no business doing that.

-Don't you think it's a good idea? | -Good idea?

All right. What's the scale?

It's what you asked for.

-ls it centimeters or inches? | -Centimeters.

No self-respecting architect uses inches.

Did Boulle use inches?

He used Boulles.

How long are they?

The distance from the nose to the navel.

His buildings were based | on human anatomy.

He certainly wasn't a prude.

Are you a prude, Signor Kracklite?

Ask my wife.

Ask your son to ask his wife.

Why did you do that?

To prove, if proof were needed, | that you bleed very easily.

No more, no less.

He deserved it, | but it was an unwise show of anger.

It is said that Hadrian, | the man who built all this...

was a man who suffered from skin disease...

and who needed to keep his skin wet...

to stop him | from scratching himself to pieces.

Hence the baths.

You are talking about Caracalla. | Hadrian was a genius...

Caracalla merely a thug.

Here at the Villa Adriana...

Hadrian created modern architecture.

It is not unlikely we are sitting | in the seventh tepidarium...

in four foot and six inches...

of tepid and most probably dirty water.

It almost certainly would not meet | our contemporary hygiene standards.

I think it looks better as a ruin.

Rome in ruins | has had more influence on architecture...

than it ever would brand-new.

What you can't see, you can imagine.

Sounds like a woman with clothes on.

-Watch out, it might be rabid. | -Don't get hysterical.

It certainly looks ill.

Tuesday, August 6. | Dear Etienne-Louis Boulle...

the pains are returning, | and I can't eat without vomiting.

It ought to be shot.

Would you shoot anything that looks sick?

What now, Kracklite?

-Are you looking for sympathy? | -Shut up.

If you breathe in and press your finger | just to the right of your navel...

can you feel a hard lump?

Some days it's spherical, | some days it feels like a cube.

Most days it feels | like a sharp-cornered pyramid.

Did the Pharaohs suffer | from stomach cramps?

The Emperor Hadrian | died of a perforated ulcer.

When you're 54, and grateful | for being able to sleep at night...

eat badly, and pee like a fire engine...

what do you do if you suspect your wife | no longer cares for your company?

I'm sorry, Etienne.

Since you never had a wife, | it was never your problem.

All right, Kracklite, what are you doing?

I'm drowning.

It's no good.

Your body just won't let you do it!

Nobody ever died | by voluntarily ceasing to breathe.

If you managed to stop breathing, | you'd fall unconscious...

and then your goddamn body | starts to breathe again.

Since you're in the bath...

why not try slitting your wrists?

That is very appropriate for Rome.

You'll have to wait a minute | because I'm using your razor.

Livia was very hairy, too.

Who's Livia?

Augustus' wife.

How do you know she was hairy?

She left hair in the bath.

It's in Caesar's Gallic Wars in Book Five.

-She tried to kill her husband. | -With his razor?

No, with figs. Poisoned figs.

Augustus fell for it, too.

At least, according to Robert Graves.

Who's he? Another architect?

No. Robert Graves is a mortuary attendant.

-Where are you going? | -Out to dinner.

Caspasian and Flavia have invited me.

Why didn't they ask me?

You can come, if you like.

They didn't ask me personally.

I expect it's because | you're so fussy about your food.

Caspasian can't stand vegetarians.

All fascists are meat-eaters.

-That's funny. | -What's funny?

Because that's what he said about you.

What, that I'm a fascist?

That's ironic, coming from him.

You look good. You look very good.

In fact, you look so good, | I wouldn't be surprised...

if you were going out with Caspasian alone.

He's entertaining.

-So I've noticed. | -What's that supposed to mean?

I watched the two of you together | at the baths in Villa Adriana.

Don't worry. | The location was very appropriate.

You were continuing a tradition | of 1,600 years.

The baths have always attracted | whores and prostitutes.

I'm pregnant.

You're what?

Are you sure?

Don't look so surprised. It's yours.

When did it happen?

Stourley, how could you not have noticed?

Must have been on the train to Rome.

-But that was two months ago. | -Closer to three.

You've hardly been near me since.

Boulle and your stomachaches | are more important.

-Are you sure this time? | -Yes.

-Which side of the border? | -What?

I think it was the ltalian side...

but I'm not exactly sure | how fast the train was going.

Wednesday, August 7. Dear Etienne-Louis...

apparently I'm to be a father.

Were you ever a father?

If your wife is unfaithful, how can you | ever be sure that the child is really yours?

My belly aches again.

I eat only fruit, given up meat.

Is that wise?

With regards, Stourley Kracklite.

You think he's here for the architecture | or for the religion?

What does his wife think?

She does not think.

She's American.

He's learning.

There you are. 20 million lire.

Officially, it's been credited | to catering expenses. Bank it.

We'll be able to make another deposit | in one month.

Kracklite will never know.

Boulle will be doing us a service.

When talking of Boulle, look what I found.

Very Signor Kracklite.

It's even got his paunch.

I'm sure you can sell it to him | as a fair likeness of his hero.

And now, I have my assignation...

with a lady who eats cake.

Will you see me out?

What are you doing, Kracklite?

Wondering what you're doing | with a briefcase full of American dollars.

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