Kiss of the Spider Woman Read Online Free PDF Page B

very sentimental.
    —I’ll say. It sounds just like a . . .
    —What are you stopping for?
    —Nothing.
    —Say it, I know what you were going to say, Valentin.
    —Don’t be silly.
    —Say it, like a woman, that’s what you were going to say.
    —Yes.
    —And what’s so bad about being soft like a woman? Why is it men or whoever, some poor bastard, some queen, can’t be sensitive, too, if he’s got a mind to?
    —I don’t know, but sometimes that kind of behavior can get in a man’s way.
    —When? When it comes to torturing?
    —No, when it comes to being finished with the torturers.
    —But if men acted like women there wouldn’t be any more torturers.
    —And you, what would you do without men?
    —You’re right. They’re mostly brutes, but I like them.
    —Molina . . . But you did say if they all acted like women then there wouldn’t be any torturers. You’ve got a point there, a flimsy one, but still, it’s a point.
    —Nice of you to say so.
    —What do you mean nice?
    —Nice and uppity: “Still, it’s a point.”
    —Okay, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.
    —Nothing to be sorry about.
    —Fine, then relax and don’t try to punish me.
    —Punish you? You’re out of your mind.
    —Act as if nothing happened, then.
    —Want me to go on with the film?
    —Sure, man.
    —Man? Where’s a man? Don’t let him go.
    —Okay, cut the jokes and get on with the story.
    —Where were we . . . ?
    —Where my girlfriend the assistant didn’t hear the woman’s footsteps anymore.
    —Right, at this point she begins really shaking with terror, she has no idea what to do, doesn’t dare turn around for fear of seeing the panther woman, stops a minute to see if she can hear the human footsteps anymore, but nothing, total silence, only the rustling of leaves moved by the wind . . . or by something else. Then she lets out a long, desperate wail somewhere between a sob and a moan, but the wail is drowned out by the noise of automatic doors on the bus that’s just stopped in front of her; those hydraulic doors that sound like some kind of air pump, and she’s safe. The driver saw her standing there and opened the doors; he asks her what’s the matter, but she says it’s nothing, she just doesn’t feel well, that’s all. And she gets on . . . All right, and when Irena gets back home she’s totally disheveled, shoes filthy with mud. The architect’s completely at a loss; doesn’t know what to say, what to do with this weirdo he’s married to. She walks in, looks at him strangely, goes into the bathroom to take off her muddy shoes, and he finally has the guts to talk to her because she’s not looking at him, and she hears what he’s saying to her, about how he went to meet her at the doctor’s office and found out she hadn’t been there in a long time. Then she starts crying and says how everything’s ruined, that she’s what she’s always been afraid of being, an insane person, suffering from hallucinations, or worse even—a panther woman. Then he calms her down all over again, and takes her in his arms, and you’re right, to him she’s just like a baby, because when he sees her that way, so defenseless, so lost, he feels all over again how he loves her with all his heart, and lets her head rest on one shoulder, his shoulder I mean, and strokes her hair and tells her she’s got to have faith, everything’s going to work out okay.
    —It makes sense, this film.
    —But there’s more, it’s not finished.
    —I hope so, it can’t just stop there. But you know what I like about it? That it’s just like an allegory, and really clear too, of the woman’s fear of giving in to a man, because by completely giving in to sex she reverts a little to an animal, you know?
    —We’ll see . . .
    —There’s that type of woman, very sensitive, way too spiritual, who’s been brought up on the idea that sex is dirty, that it’s sinful, and this type of chick is screwed up, completely