Total Eclipse Page #4

Who would have imagined

it would be so difficult?

I wrote to the lawyer today.

I explained it's her father

who's in the wrong.

How many times have I asked

for my things from that house...

and he takes no notice

whatsoever?

You're in the wrong.

All right.

All right. I'm in the wrong.

I'm in the wrong, if you say so.

That's established, isn't it?

So...

I don't know.

What... What is it?

You seem different.

Yes.

It's the writing.

The writing has changed me.

On.

On.

On.

I suppose you think

I've been just lying here...

all these weeks

in a state of paralyzed sloth.

Well, not necessarily.

Well, I have.

But bubbling

beneath the surface...

and rising slowly through

the layers of indifference...

has come a new system...

harden up, reject romanticism...

abandon rhetoric...

Get it right.

And finally

I've seen where my attempt...

to conquer the world has led me.

Where has it led you?

Here.

My search for universal

experience has led me here...

to live an idle,

pointless life of poverty...

as the minion

of a bald, ugly...

aging, drunken lyric poet...

who clings to me because

his wife won't take him back.

How can you bring yourself

to say a thing like that?

It's easy. It's the truth.

You're here living like this

because you have to...

drink and sex and a kind

of complacent melancholy...

and enough money to soak

yourself oblivious every night.

But me... l'm here

because I choose to be.

Yes?

Yes.

And why exactly?

Why did you choose

to come to London with me?

No doubt you regarded it as

another stage in your odyssey...

only by plunging ever deeper,

if I may mix my myths...

will you gain the right to graze

on the slopes of Parnassus.

Of course there are

less subtle reasons...

for putting up with me.

Such as?

Such as the fact

that I support you.

Your mind is almost

as ugly as your body.

Where are you going?

- Are they fresh?

- Yes.

This one.

God, you look such a c*nt.

Where are you going?

Where are you going?

Wait!

Paul, wait!

Move!

Don't go!

Come back!

Don't leave me!

Come back!

I'm sorry!

I'm sorry!

How am I supposed to live?

Come back.

Please come back.

You're my only friend.

I promise you

I'll behave myself.

It was only a stupid joke.

Sir?

I can't tell you how sorry I am.

When I called you,

why didn't you get off the boat?

We lived together for

two years to finish like this?

Think back to what you were

before you met me.

Listen to your heart.

Yours for always.

I'll go back to Paris tomorrow.

Look...

it won't happen again.

I'll never walk out

on you again, I promise.

No, you won't.

I'm not going

to give you the chance.

What was I supposed to do

in London with no money?

I'm sorry. I was very hot.

For God's sakes, why?

I've said far worse things

to you than that.

You really did look like a c*nt.

Where have you been?

Out.

I went to

the Spanish embassy again...

to see if they'd change

their minds, but they wouldn't.

It's f***ing ridiculous.

"I'm willing to fight

and die for your cause.

"You can't afford to turn

away volunteers."

They said they weren't

taking on any foreigners.

Then I said, "You deserve

to lose the f***ing war...

"and I hope you do."

You were at

the Spanish embassy all morning?

No.

You're drunk.

I have, yes, had a few drinks.

What are you doing?

Packing.

Where are you going?

I'm going back home to Roche.

I'm going to finish my book

and have it published.

Oh, publish.

I thought you were

far too important for that.

Anyway, I've decided.

We're going back to London.

We're not going back to London.

It's by far the best idea.

Then why did you go

to the Spanish embassy?

I didn't.

Don't go. Think it over.

I've thought it over.

Do you know what day

it is tomorrow?

Friday.

It's my wedding anniversary...

and I haven't seen her,

my wife...

since we made love here

in Brussels nearly a year ago.

She won't answer my letters.

I wrote her if she didn't come

to Brussels within 3 days...

I'd commit suicide,

and she didn't even reply.

But then you didn't

commit suicide.

I suppose

you think that's funny.

No, it's pitiful.

How many people did you tell

you were committing suicide?

I'm surprised you didn't

send out invitations.

How can you be so callous?

Callous?

You abandon me in London...

then summon me to Brussels

and expect me to hang around...

while you decide whether

to leave your wife...

join the army,

or shoot yourself?

Then when you fail

to achieve any of these aims...

as you undoubtedly will...

you want me to go

back to London with you!

It's not gonna happen!

I'm leaving you!

You can't.

You can't!

Look, look.

Look, this summer...

Remember last summer

when we set out...

how wonderful it was?

Remember?

Why don't we go south?

Late summer

on the Mediterranean...

we could dedicate

ourselves to warmth.

Or Africa.

You've always wanted

to go to Africa.

Just for a month,

then make up your mind.

Look at the sun.

No.

Why not?

I can't.

It's no good.

It's too late.

It's not!

I promise you, it's not.

You know if you leave me,

you'll kill me.

I can't bear to be alone.

I don't exist

without someone else.

I don't care if you stay with me

out of pity, just stay!

- I can't.

- Why not?

You don't care.

You have no idea

what this means.

For God's sake, stop whining!

It's very hot.

Take off your coat.

I will.

I did some shopping

this morning.

I bought a gun.

What for?

For you, for me...

for everybody.

I hope you bought

plenty of ammunition.

I'm not going

to let you go, you know.

This is a rather

entertaining number.

We haven't seen this one before.

I'll kill you!

For God's sake,

pull yourself together.

I read your letter.

You begged me to come back.

You said you were crying

as you wrote it.

I could see

your tears on the paper.

That was before I thought

of pawning your clothes.

I didn't mean to.

Look what you've done.

I didn't mean to. I'm sorry.

Look.

Oh, my God. Kill me.

Shoot me.

Shoot me!

How can I, you stupid f***?

You've just blown

a hole in my hand.

Oh, God. What have I done?

You missed.

Open up!

Open up in there!

What exactly

are you doing in Brussels?

I was hoping my wife

might come and join me here...

as she had done on one occasion

since our separation.

I fail to see how

the departure of a friend...

could have cast you

into such despair.

Did there perhaps exist

between you and Rimbaud...

other relations

besides those of friendship?

No.

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