The Belly of an Architect Page #4

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It's to pay for the models.

I could get those models | for half the price in Chicago.

Speaking of models, what's happened | to the model of the Boulle lighthouse?

It was to be ready three weeks ago.

Caspasian has taken it to your apartment.

Look, he's asked me to give you this.

It's Boulle.

What makes you think it's Boulle?

There are no likenesses of Boulle.

I should know. | I've been searching for one for 10 years.

If anything, | this looks suspiciously like Piranesi.

The inscription is French | and the date is correct.

Caspasian found it | at the Bibliotheque nationale.

-That doesn't prove it's Boulle. | -What doesn't prove it's Boulle?

His picture hanging | in the Bibliotheque nationale.

Good evening, gentlemen. Working late?

We meet again, Stourley. | This time in the gentlemen's toilet.

Let me have a look.

He's wearing a toga romana and, | I do believe, lace-up shoes.

And by the expression on his face...

it looks like his shoes are pinching his feet.

No. He's just eaten something nasty.

I'm afraid it's worse than that.

Disease of the pancreas.

Pancreatic carcinoma.

Boulle died of cancer?

How do you know that?

Don't be stupid. We are joking.

-I'll give you a lift. | -Okay.

-Ciao. | -Ciao.

What have you still got to do?

The research materials for the catalog | haven't been finished yet.

The proofs are due at the printer's | next Tuesday.

There are still major problems | with the color reproduction.

The main gallery hasn't been started | due to the hold-up on the Newton model.

And of course we have to | pay the electricians to stand by...

otherwise we'll lose them.

-Do you feel any better? | -No.

They tell me it's constipation.

But it's gone on far too long | for it to be just that.

-We could delay the opening date. | -No, that's just what we cannot do.

Then offload some of your responsibility. | Give it to Caspasian.

He can take care of the details | for a few weeks.

Yeah, that's just what I'm afraid of.

-He's capable enough. | -No.

Caspasian has taken over | too much of my life already.

Do you mind | if I ask you a personal question?

Go on.

Why did you divorce your wife?

Jealousy.

I suspected her of having an affair.

And were your suspicions well-founded?

I thought so at the time. | Now I'm not so sure.

I think, in fact...

that the man was after my daughter, Flavia, | not my wife.

But the damage was done.

Too much had been said, | too much vengeance taken.

Look, Kracklite, if you won't take time off...

at least come to the baths.

It'll do you good.

When things slacken off later.

Now I just want to go home and try to sleep.

Hello, Joe.

Why are you crying?

I'm crying because there's a draft...

through the keyhole. It hits me in the eye.

He's got a draft in his eye.

Thursday, August 22.

Dear Etienne-Louis...

I wonder why you never came to Rome?

Did traveling make you ill?

Were you suspicious of foreigners?

Did you ever eat an orange?

Did you even know what vitamin C was?

It's supposed to make you healthy.

I'm sorry, I don't speak ltalian.

Mind if I watch?

Etienne-Louis, what was the current | stomach complaint when you were alive?

Gallstones? Kidney stones? Appendicitis?

Pancreatic carcinoma?

Signor Kracklite, do you dream?

Yes.

What do you dream of?

Lately, stairs.

I'm always climbing stairs.

Or falling down stairs.

A sure sign of dyspepsia.

No, I don't believe that anymore.

Then what do you believe?

Boulle died of cancer.

Your respect for the man, Kracklite...

does not imply | that you have to suffer his injuries.

Monsieur Boulle | was a French hypochondriac.

-Did you know that? | -No.

-He was a little lame. Are you a little lame? | -No.

He suffered from gout.

He was afraid of thunderstorms.

They made him incontinent.

You seem very well-informed.

Why do you think he built so little? | Why do you think he traveled so little?

His illness incapacitated him.

He stayed at home | for fear of embarrassment abroad.

Look, Kracklite...

I can't examine you here.

But if you are worried...

I can make an appointment for you | with my cousin for next week.

He's a stomach specialist.

He specializes in the guts of priests.

Did you know that the average | human intestine is 27 feet long...

but the guts of a priest are 3 feet longer?

On account of the indigestible | consecrated host?

No. Much simpler.

"The Lord moves in mysterious ways...

"his duties to perform."

I think you look beautiful pregnant.

Like I said you would.

-My sister wants to photograph you. | -What for?

For her, for you...

for me.

And for Kracklite?

Perhaps.

-Would you like to do it? | -No.

Why not?

Your sister worries me.

She's even more predatory than you are.

Really?

I think she's a hermaphrodite.

I can assure you that she is not.

How do you know?

She is my sister.

We used to bathe together.

That was a long time ago.

Is last Tuesday a long time ago?

What?

I was joking.

Eighteen.

Twenty-one.

Twenty-four.

Twenty-seven.

Thirty.

Friday, January 10. Dear Etienne-Louis...

I don't like doctors.

They always see you at a disadvantage.

When they've studied your private parts...

smelled your breath, fingered your tongue...

how can you talk with them as an equal?

Are you ready?

Now, Signor Kracklite, | would you lie on your left side, please?

And bend your knees.

I trust you know what we intend doing?

It will be a little uncomfortable...

but with the anesthetic, | you will feel very little.

We intend examining your intestine | with a probe.

With an optical light source...

we'll take a small television camera | into your large intestine...

take live pictures that will appear | on a television monitor.

This will allow us | to search for any irregularities.

We will then make our full report | and ask you to come back.

I wish I could take Kracklite's baby out...

and put mine in its place.

What difference would that make?

It would still be the child of an architect.

Yes, but at least with me, | it would not be posthumously.

Meaning?

The way Kracklite is going, | he won't last till summer.

Tell me, Kracklite, | why don't you photograph women?

Different metabolism, different organs...

different complaints.

Have you eaten?

Well, if you buy me a meal...

I'll take the photos for you.

Are you interested just in the c*cks?

No, I'm interested just in the bellies.

A new erogenous zone?

It's been noticed that you steal postcards.

Postcards are part of | a city's publicity campaign.

I am just helping | to distribute the advertisements.

This is an expensive camera.

-It's a get-well present. | -Who gave it to you?

I gave it to myself.

Caspasian always said | you were a generous man.

Well, Caspasian would know.

You look like a tired old man | who's just come up out of the sea.

Well, I've tried a little drowning.

Let's try a little more.

Come into my studio.

I'll process your film | while you take a shower.

We'll see which comes out of the bath | the more developed.

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