All the Hopeful Lovers Read Online Free PDF Page B

skin, causing a dribble of water to come seeping out. The work is called Break Water .
    ‘Interesting,’ says Diana.
    Laura hates it. It’s ugly and frightening.
    ‘I don’t get it,’ she says.
    ‘Male violence,’ explains Diana curtly. ‘Maternal complicity.’
    ‘It’s horrible,’ says Laura.
    ‘It’s meant to be.’
    What can you say to that?
    They move on briskly to the third artist. To Laura’s relief there is no horror here. A wooden table raised on a plinth has been laid with blue-striped china, a milk bottle, and all the other elements of what seems to be a 1960s breakfast. A box of Kellogg’s Cornflakes stands beside a rack of toast and a jar of Robinson’s Golden Shred. The work is called Break Fast .
    ‘Interesting,’ says Diana.
    ‘But it’s just a breakfast table,’ says Laura.
    ‘Nostalgic. Iconic.’
    As before, she shows no desire to linger. This has always been Diana’s way in art galleries. Register, categorize, move on. She views art like a general inspecting troops: the essence of the response is contained in the act of being present. Her sharp mind moves rapidly, she’s easily bored. But she does not tire.
    ‘Time for a cup of tea. There’s a café outside.’
    As they head for the café Diana chides Laura for her naive responses.
    ‘Really, Laura, you must expose yourself to the modern world a bit more. You never would have come if I hadn’t made you, would you?’
    ‘No,’ says Laura. ‘I don’t get it. Why does it have to be so nasty?’
    ‘What do you want art to be? Hay-wains and views of the Grand Canal?’
    As they cross the lobby they’re accosted by a young woman with a microphone. She smiles at Laura as if she knows her.
    ‘Could you spare a minute?’
    Laura becomes aware that behind the young woman hovers a man with a large video camera on his shoulder. The young woman is slim, intelligent-looking, forceful in a quiet way.
    ‘We’re making a film about Joe Nola,’ she says. ‘What did you make of his work?’
    ‘Which one was Joe Nola?’ says Laura.
    ‘The breakfast table.’
    ‘Oh, yes.’ Laura can think of nothing to say. She can feel Diana fretting beside her. ‘I don’t think I understood it.’
    ‘Laura, honestly,’ says Diana. The camera moves to her. She addresses the lens directly. ‘It made me aware of all we’ve lost,’ she says fluently. ‘The innocence of childhood. The structured family. Shared mealtimes.’
    The young woman has not moved the microphone away from Laura.
    ‘Don’t do that, Jim,’ she murmurs.
    The camera returns.
    ‘So you didn’t understand it,’ she says. ‘But what did it make you feel?’
    ‘Golly,’ says Laura. ‘Nothing, really. I mean, how is that art? It’s just a breakfast table. Can anything be art?’
    ‘What do you think?’
    ‘Look, this isn’t my thing, really. I only came because my sister insisted. I’ve never understood modern art. Ask Diana. She understands it.’
    The young woman is undeterred.
    ‘Actually, Joe Nola is interested in reaching people just like you,’ she says. ‘His work isn’t a puzzle to be decrypted. It’s simply a process of pointing. He’s saying, Look at something ordinary, and see it as something extraordinary. So your response is always the right response. There is no wrong response.’
    ‘Right,’ says Laura.
    ‘So all you have to do is say what thoughts went through your mind when you looked at it.’
    What thoughts did go through my mind? Feelings of inadequacy. Embarrassment.
    Then she remembers something else.
    ‘I think I thought about Golden Shred. I used to collect the golliwogs. Then they stopped doing them because they were racist. But all I thought was how sweet they were. And I wanted the golliwog badge, of course.’
    ‘Perfect.’ The director smiles. She looks genuinely pleased. ‘Joe will love that. Thank you very much. Okay, Jim. That’s it for today.’
    Diana and Laura go on into the café.
    ‘Golliwogs!’ says Diana.