Original subtitles

It began so innocently.

He said it was strange that a woman would want to publish a defense of D.H.

Lawrence and that his words are considered an incitement to sex.

Then he said, you write about sex... Sex with some authority, Miss Nin.

You must have led a rather free life.

Free? I mean, you must have had a lot of experience.

You know, affairs.

What I'm interested in is how you came to have such insights into the erotic.

Through literature.

Yes, I love Proust and...

But I suppose my real

awakening came when my husband Hugo and I first arrived in Paris and rented a

bachelor apartment for the summer.

One day I was tidying up and...

As I was going through the closets where the owner had left his personal

belongings, I discovered...

In that closet, I became familiar with the endless varieties of erotic

experience. Come here.

Hugo. I thought you might need a lift.

Are you all right, Pussy Willow?

He kissed me, Hugo.

What?

Oh, my God.

It was just one kiss.

He kisses me once.

Then he caresses all of my body.

He seeks my breasts.

and my most secret, sensitive part.

His hands are deft.

I'm tempted by unknown pleasures.

When I see that I have let him be aroused, I let him release his desire

between my legs.

I just let him.

Out of pity, I tell Hugo only part of the story.

Remember to meet me at 8 tonight.

Oh, Hugo, would you mind very much if I didn't go this evening?

Yes, I would mind.

Oh, I'm sorry, but all that crowd talks about is bad loans or trusts or estate

planning. Estate planning can be very creative.

Look, the bank is how we got to Paris.

I need this job, and I admit I sometimes enjoy it. Why not?

Why not?

changing into someone else hugo you're even beginning to smell like the bank

i'm working so that you can write i need to know people who are alive

hugo

No, no, no.

You're not concentrating.

You're holding down. Do it again.

I can't seem to concentrate anymore, Eduardo.

My life.

Sometimes I think I need something else.

An older man, a man stronger than I am.

You like to make me suffer.

I've loved you since we were children, Anais.

But I've always had a fear that I wouldn't be able to.

No.

Oh,

look at them, Eduardo.

They're so exquisite.

Why will Hermione be swept away?

They don't move me like you do.

What a place you got here, Hugo.

Peaceful.

Been here long?

Just since the crash.

Since the crash?

Don't you live before?

We lived well.

This is Henry Miller, the American writer Osborne is putting up. My wife,

Anais Nin.

How are you, Ennis?

Eduardo Sanchez, Anais' cousin.

Anais, you ought to read some of Henry's stuff.

For my money, he's got it over D.H. Lawrence.

Oh, I'd love to read what you've written.

Henry hasn't been published yet.

And you're comparing him to Lawrence?

I don't want to be compared to Lawrence. Lawrence probably would have hated the

way I write. Henry writes for the man in the streets.

Just like that, I don't care for his writing.

And I've just been writing a book about Lawrence.

Oh, perhaps his sexuality is too strong for you. Too strong?

He's childish.

He's prudish, if you ask me. I mean, the French have been writing about this

stuff all along.

I mean, Rabelais, Flaubert.

Frankly, I can't imagine any modern writer not to owe a debt to Lawrence. We

should eat something. If you ask me, he makes too much out of sex. He makes the

damn gospel out of it. Now, in my way, eating sex is natural, you know.

Like birth or death.

Besides, I'm not interested in literature as we know it or poetry as we

know it. What are you interested in? Henry writes about fucking.

Fucking? No, I'm playing about self-liberation. Nope, it's definitely

about fucking. Osborne. We should eat something. Hold on.

Amelia's waiting. What are you doing?

I flip through a few more pages, and I realize this is my own novel I'm

reading, with some joker's name on it, written in French, being sold in the

best bookstore in Paris.

Unbelievable. How's that possible? How's that possible?

Hugo, you remember last year when somebody stole my briefcase with my

manuscript in it?

Well, this guy swiped my manuscript, but what this joker doesn't realize is I'll

get him.

The souffle from an old family recipe.

Souffle? So this is a souffle.

I hope

it's substantial enough.

So what this joker doesn't know is I'll get him because I'm a copyright lawyer.

I'm going to go after him just like I went after the other joker.

The guy who stole your play. The guy who stole my play. That's on Broadway.

That's on Broadway.

I told you this already?

About how this guy must have stolen my play right out of my briefcase?

I'd be a well-received writer by now if it weren't for these jokers.

But I'll get him. I'm not taking any chances.

This is my new baby in here.

You laughing at me?

I just feel so good.

Wonderful. What a fine moment we have here.

A free lunch.

Fire in the fireplace.

Wonderful wines.

The color's blue and orange.

It's wonderful. Wonderful.

No other word for it.

So what do you write?

Poetry or something?

Most of my writing is in these diaries.

No.

No, I never let anyone read it.

I never show it to anyone.

Except Hugo.

Sometimes.

Oh, always wondering, the captive.

A prisonier.

Please,

I want you to have it.

I'll borrow it.

Thanks. Pussy Willow!

I used to go to the six-day bike races we had in Brooklyn.

Yeah, I love bikes.

But I couldn't take it. I want you to have it.

But what'll you use, Pussy Willow? I'll borrow yours, Hugo.

You can't ride a man's bike. In that case, Henry should take mine.

Hey, thanks, Hugo.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, because I want to use it.

Let's go on a visit.

Come on, Eduardo.

We'll race you back to Paris before it gets dark.

Like a mark?

Come on. I don't race anymore. For me, a bike is just a means of getting home.

Get set?

You're no match for me.

Are you set, Eduardo?

I must warn you that I used to race. Go!

I'd love to read something he's written. Fat chance he'll never get published.

I've met Henry Miller.

He's feral.

Flamboyant.

He's a man life intoxicates.

He's like me.

But he doesn't know it yet.

Henry's quite a character.

Night,

pussy willow.

Good night, Hugo.

Let me help you. Hugo, I'll be fine.

Osmond said he'd be home and I want to surprise Henry.

I just thought you could use a hand. Sure you're all right? Yes, I'm fine,

Hugo.

I'll take the train and meet you home later.

Oh, wait a minute.

Just in case.

I don't want you to wait.

I'll see you tonight.

Henry? Osborne?

Hello.

Oh, excuse me. Oh, God, Annalise, I forgot.

Oh, I'm sorry. No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Wait.

Henry? Hey, kid.

Slumming, huh?

I went to husband's place and he told me where to find you.

I bought my typewriter. I thought you should have it.

Can we go and sit down somewhere?

Why not?

There's a little cafe back there.

Come on.

He reminds me of someone.

A woman who obsesses you.

I know that feeling.

I'm often obsessed.

You ought to eat something, kid. Eat like a bird.

All right, I'll tell you.

June appeared like an angel. I offered her a fool's fate.

She was a taxi dancer.

I paid my dime.

She put her head on my shoulder.

But then the lies began.

She told me her mother was a gypsy.

Her father was a cunt.

Later I saw a film and realized she swiped her whole childhood right out of

the film.

And so?

So I married her.

She gave me the courage to finally quit my job so I could write full time.

She believed in me.

Somehow she got some money and we'd buy strawberries in the winter.

We're broke. We're living in a dump in Brooklyn, but we're living like kings.

Then one day she meets an artist.

Brings her home to live with us.

Pretty soon we're supporting Jean, too.

But how's she getting the money?

Pop. Pop?

Pop's a scam.

I found out about Pop only after she comes barging in one day with a fistful

of money and suggests I go to Paris to write.

Then she'll join me later.

I'd take one look into her lion eyes and say,

Anything you say?

Pack my bags and I'm off to Europe.

Fuck.

I'm not quite the sap she takes me for.

Something tells me to double back, do you see?

When I confront her, she gets furious with me.

She says we would have stalled without Pop.

She says Pop's my patron saint.

Your patron saint?

Yeah, that's what she calls him.

Only she's been telling Pop that it's her right.

She says that's why Pop's been buying you because of her.

Hey, how you doing? Bonjour.

And I should be grateful that you've done it all for me.

Ça va? Bien.

Then she says, I love you. And everything else vanishes.

In that moment, I live eternities.

Why does she get angry and height and jealous and cruel?

I mean, why does she lie?

That I can't understand.

Maybe you're not asking the right questions.

Oh, yeah?

Then what would you ask?

I'd ask, what makes her lies necessary?

What is she afraid of?

Who is she afraid of?

The kinds of things a woman would ask.

A woman?

Hey, excuse me, pal. I wonder if you could spring for a few francs. I'm a

little short today.

Beat it.

I could give you some money if you need it.

Thanks. I'll call you.

Yeah.

See you. Get home okay?

Yes, of course.

I'll be fine.

You should be taxed all the time. You know, a lot of your cranky types come

down. See ya.

Thank you.

I'm getting some interesting shadowy images here.

Oh, I like it.

You fall in love with people's minds.

I'm afraid I could lose you to Henry.

so rough.

He calls me a kid.

I think I hate him.

He's a parasite, an egoist.

Maybe it's his jealousy.

What are you jealous of?

His life seems so full of pain and chaos.

He has someone who drives him to pain and chaos.

Anna, meet my wife, June.

Thanks for taking care of Henry.

He didn't describe you right.

He didn't, Henry.

The colors you've used.

It's as if you painted each room for a different mood, Anna.

It's Anaïs.

Henry gets everything wrong.

Oh, sorry.

Always merry and bright.

You said it.

So, Henry, what's the title of your book going to be?

I'm knocking around a couple.

I sing the equator and the tropic of cancer.

I like seeing the equator.

No.

Topic of cancer.

Without question.

Anais, you are so absolutely right.

See, Henry?

I told her so.

So?

What do you think of her, Hugo?

June? Not much.

You're afraid of her?

No. I just don't trust her. Do you?

Trust her?

Of course not.

But you do think she's beautiful, don't you?

No.

That's the truth.

You have no aberrations.

No cruelty.

I don't want to be cruel.

i hate men who are afraid of a woman's strength i'm not afraid of your strength

i love it the stronger the better come here

you don't hate me do you

Making love to her?

Yes.

To her body.

Her voluptuous body.

She's so perverse.

So naked.

Tell her that you love her.

I love you.

I love you.

Hold tight.

Possess her like a man.

to face a six-day bike race in Brooklyn.

You're pretty damn good to keep up. Yes, let's go. Yes, it's just natural with

me. I've always loved sports.

Hey, hey, come on.

I'll give you a bottle of kiss on this.

Goal

is

a tie pal.

It's a tie!

You're like the school teacher.

I'm like the young girl.

What's your name?

I'm Count Brugger.

Where'd you come from, Count Brugger?

Count Brugger's been on the stage.

That's why he's so spoiled.

Count Brugger is not spoiled!

Jean made Count Brugger.

She's an artist.

Her hands are incredible.

Her beauty's more like a man's. She's no ordinary woman.

No ordinary woman could meet Count Brugger!

Quiet, Bruegel, we're talking.

Shut up, you!

You shut up, too!

Where did you learn how to do this?

My parents were show people.

My father was a magician in the circus.

My mother was a trapezeist. I was born on the road.

What has Henry told you?

Nothing, really.

He mentioned Pop?

No. Who's Pop?

Pop is a patron saint of the arts, I know.

Henry's jealous of him because Pop's rich.

Henry sees a lecher under every rock. You know how men get.

Do you love women?

What do you mean?

What about Jean?

Did Henry tell you about Jean and I?

No, you've been telling me about her.

Sometimes he has a way of making everything ugly.

He's not sleeping with you, is he?

What?

Nah,

I guess not.

Did we pay?

Oh, let me get it. Okay, good, because I've got to book my passage.

Passage? To where?

To New York.

Come on, Ruga.

I got my own life to lead.

So many things up in the air. My friends, my acting.

There's an audition I don't want to miss.

Excuse me. Is this all the money you have?

Yes.

Sorry, I can't do anything for you.

What do you want me to do, Swim?

Of course not.

You'll find a solution.

Something's happened.

I don't know. The price has gone up, the exchange rate's gone down.

I tried to get a reduction, but I don't have enough even for third class.

Here. Oh, no, I couldn't.

Please, take this.

So, did you find a solution?

I hope so.

I'd really like to travel first class.

So, it's possible.

Maybe you know a place where we could meet for a drink.

Let's say six o'clock.

Seven's better.

This character, Mona, is she supposed to be me?

Why?

Nothing.

Henry, it's so good.

I always wanted you to be Dostoevsky.

Is that good?

Good?

I struggled, suffered for this.

This isn't me.

It's not me.

Of course it's you. It's the you inside me.

It's a distortion.

Henry, look at me.

Look.

You can't see me or anyone as they are.

I wanted Dostoevsky.

Well, who could be Dostoevsky with you? You make that impossible.

What do you want? What do I want? Yeah.

After I brought the world to you.

After I told you all of my stories.

Sing my praises.

Make me an admirable character.

I'm not a portrait painter.

Oh, say you not.

Look what you've done to Anais.

You make everything ugly.

Beauty is a joke to you.

It's so negative.

You're a failure as a writer.

You're not a man. You're a child.

You use women. You use me, you fucker!

Bye.

I want to be drunk.

And make you drunk.

Because I'm intimidated by you.

And I need to feel free to say anything and know that you'll forgive me.

I want to tell you things so you won't stumble through life.

I've done the wildest things, the foulest things,

but I've done them superbly.

I feel innocent now.

Do you believe that, Anais?

You are innocent.

I want to be innocent like you.

I want to experience everything you've experienced.

Anais, take care of Henry for me.

I'll be leaving in the morning.

What?

But when will you come back?

Maybe soon.

Maybe never.

There's so much I wish I could have done with you.

I wish I could have taken opium with you.

Give me your wrist.

No, you have so few things.

I wanted to give you more.

I wanted to hold you.

She's crazy.

Don't you see?

No, I don't see.

I don't care.

She's just using you.

No.

You just don't understand.

You're jealous of her.

No, I'm not.

Besides, you'll never see her again.

Where did you get this?

Show me Does she think she can love anything in you I haven't loved?

Henry, you may have genius and passion, but something is definitely missing.

Oh, yeah?

What?

Compassion.

Compassion for whom?

June, for instance.

Might as well have compassion for the moon.

I'm going to write a book about June.

I'm writing about her.

I know more than anybody will ever know about us.

But I'm talking about something totally different.

As a woman, I'm the inside out.

I can get into the poetry of June.

Hey.

She's my fucking wife.

You don't understand your own fucking wife.

Write about whatever you want to write about, for Christ's sake.

More power to you.

Gotta get back to work. I'll stay a while longer if you can, Henry.

She's been under stress.

Just getting back in her feet.

You know they've got some Haitian drums up there? That fellow said I might sit

in.

Yeah.

I saw your true nature when you were dancing out there.

You don't understand.

Maybe I'm just a peasant. Only whores can understand me.

You want to dance?

Dance.

I like you. Why not?

Love you.

Hugo. Hugo.

Hugo. Hugo.

Hugo. You're driving me wild.

I am a demon to be able to pass from Henry's arms into Hugo's.

Hugo lies next to me as I write this.

I love Hugo.

And I feel innocent.

Did I ever tell you, Anais, about the time when I was a little boy growing up

in Puerto Rico?

My father used to take me to the carnival.

There were wild drums beating and frightening masks.

There was something going on that was terrifying that I didn't understand.

And I said to my father, I'm not afraid.

Give me your hand.

Hello, Mr. Richard.

Hello, Hugo.

Mr. Grant can't join us till Friday at Dover.

Annis, I don't know how much I dare write you.

I would call you, only I'm afraid Hugo would answer.

God forgive if this letter's ever opened by mistake.

I can't help it.

I want you.

I love you.

I've been living with you constantly.

But I've been afraid to tell you.

I thought it would terrify you.

But today, as I watched Dreyer's Passion of Joan of Arc, I saw the mad monk

played by Antonin Artaud.

I thought of you, like Joan, in all your youth and purity and single-minded

madness. And I saw myself in Artaud, a hungering monk in love with you and in

love with my madness and your madness.

And the demon in Artaud's eyes was like the demon in your eyes.

Thank you.

But you and I fit so well together.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Isn't that something?

Yeah.

Yeah.

greater, finer than I ever thought.

Never mind how he failed or triumphed as a man, as an artist.

Did he succeed?

I say, magnificently.

He tried to liberate literature, and that's our task.

Liberation. Freedom.

Let's toast the Lord.

Let's toast God.

Toast to our friendship.

Drink cold, piss warm.

Oh,

fuck

the Huns.

But you know who I really am?

It's only me from over the sea. I'm Barnacle Bill, let's say.

I'm all up like a Christmas tree. I'm Barnacle Bill, let's say. I'll tell you

all the scenes in a second.

I'll fight and stray on drink and smoke, but I can't fit my bloody throat. I'll

put my mask on my fleas.

I'll drink and fight, fuck and smoke, but I can't fit my bloody throat.

Perverts!

Perverts yourselves!

Fuck you, Jack.

Say, fuck you, Jack.

Fuck you, Jack!

Okay.

Everybody says sex is obscene. The only true obscene thing is war.

I believe only in a God who understood how to dance.

Isn't that something?

Nietzsche says that at the same time the Hums in Germany are gearing up for

Britain like this.

We're given this gift, don't you know, the ability to understand if no one

wants to understand.

We're given the ability to read.

I mean, read Nietzsche. Read Thomas Mann, read Spengler, Joyce, Rimbaud.

Hell, read fucking Alice in Wonderland.

Everything's out of whack.

People just worry about money now and deny their inner self.

What the hell is money, anyway?

If shit had value, the poor wouldn't have asses.

Money, money, money.

They walk through the night crowd, protected by money, lulled by money,

dulled by money. No least single object anywhere that is not money. Money, money

everywhere, and still not enough.

And then no money, or little money, or less money, or more money. But money,

always money.

And if you have money or you don't have money, it's the money that counts. And

money makes money. But what makes money make money?

I say, what the hell?

We got to die to the world like the clowns. Right, clowns? Right.

I've never seen the sunrise in Paris.

I've never been up all night.

I've never been with a woman I could be so sincere with.

I feel so free to write now.

I'll help you.

And I'll help you.

I feel so pure.

So strong.

So new, Henry.

You and I together, not any man or woman together.

Yes.

I'll demand everything of you.

Even the impossible.

Because you encourage it.

I guess you get down on my knees and worship you.

I'm going to undress you.

Vulgarize you, Ben.

Lift up your dress.

No, Henry, not here.

Wrap your leg around me.

I'm going to make you come with me.

Remarkable.

This is one of the most beautiful things I've ever read.

I've never shown this diary to anyone before.

No one will ever know these things but you.

You're becoming all the things you wish to be as a little girl.

I had a cricket.

What?

A little pet cricket in a cage.

I love your accent.

And I carried it everywhere with me.

But when we arrived in America, they took it away at the immigration.

The only thing they let me keep in America was my diary.

And my accent.

I love you at 11.

I love you now.

I will love you at a hundred.

Here. This is good.

Yours, too.

Tell the truth, Rich.

Tell the truth.

I hope you don't mind.

Mind?

Why should I mind?

I welcome constructive criticism.

Good.

If it's constructive.

What are you doing?

Just a few things.

See here, it's all shrieks and abstracts.

It's too melodramatic.

You've got to take time to expand.

You're enjoying this.

What? Cutting me up.

I don't want to write the way you write.

I don't want you to write the way I write.

You've got to write in your own voice. I'm just making a few suggestions.

Tighten quite a bit. Here.

Read it out loud and see how it sounds.

I'm not going to give you that pleasure.

Pleasure? What?

Hold on a minute here.

Why can't you take it?

I mean, you gotta take a few taps on the chin.

A few taps on the chin?

Amuse yourself with someone else.

A prizefighter, for instance.

You're right. Exactly. A prizefighter. I mean, you gotta get knocked down

occasionally to a... Why the necessary ring tactics, the strategy, the art of

fighting?

You can't just shout a box in your room. You wouldn't last two minutes when you

stepped into the ring.

I'm not interested in stepping into a ring with you.

The world will give us plenty of beatings.

What we need is each other's support.

Should I criticize you like an outsider?

Should I say you write caricatures, that you write only?

From a man's point of view, and you can't understand women, should I say

that sometimes there's a touch of the brute in your writing, that you're too

much of a realist?

What's the matter?

Can't you take it?

The pie cider?

Hey, knock it off.

Fine, huh?

Hey.

Don't.

Leave it. Looks nice that way.

Wild.

Loose.

You never liked the way I look.

I do. I do love your hair.

Just think it shouldn't be so severe.

So tight.

Like my writing?

No, not like your writing. I love your writing. I believe in you.

Last night, I thought that you were the woman I should have been married to.

You're always ironizing with me.

Ironizing? There's no such word. It's to be ironic.

Look it up.

Hey, hey.

Benny steals my ideas and puts them in his mouth.

Henry wouldn't do that, did he?

I'm sure of it.

Somehow he got into my briefcase and swiped my ideas.

Those phrases are mine.

That way of expression, that rhapsodizing, it's mine.

Nietzsche?

I introduced him to Nietzsche.

I introduced him to Hugo and you.

He stole you from Hugo.

Don't hate him.

And he stole you from me.

That's true.

It was my idea to become your lover.

He betrayed me by stealing you from me and from my best friend, your husband.

This man is treacherous to the core.

This Neanderthal from Brooklyn is trying to murder me.

For all his pretended friendship.

His most intimate friends are nothing but fodder for the unrolling of his own

sanctified destiny, his own creative urges.

I leave the two of you to your destiny.

And one more thing.

No more sex in my apartment.

I won't stand for it.

I won't stand for it.

I love that guy.

He understands.

Even though he is, uh, hey, hey, hey, how about now? Later.

Even though he is ironite.

Three desires now.

To live.

To sleep.

And... And?

Jerks out there.

It's just the art students, Paul.

Maybe you just don't want it tonight.

It's fine.

It's fine, I understand.

It's natural.

Have I had about such moments?

It happens to women, too, and the women can conceal it.

You feel that you have to fuck me or I'll be disappointed.

But you don't always have to fuck me.

Don't say that word.

What word?

Fuck?

It just bothers me now.

Maybe it's the accent.

Maybe it's just because you can't.

Fuck.

It's important not to imagine terrible things like being impotent from now on.

We should just laugh about it.

Bye-bye.

Thank you.

Thank you.

I love you, Priscilla.

I love you too, Hugo.

I

gave

myself with such feelings against Henry.

that I experienced a great physical pleasure.

My first infidelity to Henry was with my own husband.

I've changed.

I feel restless, spirited, adventurous.

To be absolutely truthful, I hope secretly to meet someone else.

I have erotic imaginings.

I want pleasure.

Every time I go out with you, I love you more than ever.

You seem so wild tonight.

Tonight, I could do anything.

I could, too.

We need to think of something that can stimulate us both.

Anything you say, kiddo.

Hannah told me about this place.

This ought to be something.

We're here.

Merci.

I'm with you. We'll just look.

What's an exhibition?

Then you must choose two.

An exhibition is us watching a man and a woman doing it?

No men.

Only women.

One pretends to be the man.

It is better that way, n'est-ce pas?

Of course.

You will not be disappointed.

You will see.

Everything. And now, you must choose.

66 words in which to make love. Oh, really?

They will show you love in a taxi, love when one of the partners is sleeping,

love in the street, etc., etc.

Thank you.

God.

You like something else?

Yes.

Stop pretending to be a man.

Would you like to join us?

As you wish.

As you wish, your boss.

Yeah.

of your green eyes, Eduardo.

I want to show you things.

I want you to relax.

We set ourselves in a room.

I began to undress.

I begged her to undress.

to let me see between her legs.

As she lay over me, I felt a penis touching me.

you glad.

I'm passing through a crisis, Eduardo.

Be careful, Anais.

Abnormal pleasures kill the taste of normal ones.

I hate you, Henry, because I now realize I love you as I have never loved anyone.

I miss your voice, your hands, your body, your tenderness, your bearishness,

and your goodness.

Most of all, I miss our friendship.

Thank you very much.

Finished.

It's just finished.

This is wonderful.

Stupendous.

Come and join us. Yes, come and light on with us, Henan.

I hope you don't mind.

Anais was just reading this, and I'm a pretty nosy guy, so I took a peek.

I just love it.

I've been trying to write something about it, about how necessary this book

is for our times.

You give us a blood transfusion.

Beautiful. Thanks.

Wait till June reads this.

She'll be so thrilled that you've finished your book.

Each mention of her name, each page I read is painful.

Well, this was a swan song.

It's a way to understand her so I could free myself from her.

It's finished now.

Not yet.

Now we've got to get it published.

Published? Who'll publish it?

I know what they'll say.

There's even laws against what I've written.

But I feel good now.

I'm ready to celebrate my failure.

I won't let you be a failure.

I'll make the world listen to you, I promise.

I'm ready now to call on the Pope, on all the kings, and on all the editors

and the publishers in the world to get them to support you.

Hey, hey, hey, Ennis, Ennis, Ennis.

Eduardo. Hello, Henry.

Hey, where'd you go?

You could come and get me.

Osborne's gone too. Gone crazy. Really.

Totally. We're celebrating Osborne's madness. It's a rare occasion, don't you

know? It doesn't happen every day. I hope he's really insane and not just

faking. They just came and took him away. He was a monster.

And that was his best part.

That's for sure.

Show me something.

Well, we've got the whole place to ourselves.

You ever see what a good contortionist can do?

Once a little bit, let's get you something.

Fill me down.

Come on, I'll get you something to drink.

I'm sorry I couldn't keep in touch.

I thought of you every day.

But you know me with writing, I have a terrible time.

I don't have the gift like you and Henry.

I found your book lying around here.

I hope you don't mind.

Don't compete.

House insert?

It's nice.

This character, Sabina, is supposed to be me?

The muffled, close, half-talk of soft-fleshed women.

Deep into each other, we turned our hollered eyes.

Seems like... poetry, sort of.

It's so...

I don't know, damn sweet of you to try to write something about me.

I really... I really expected something more... I don't know,

more real.

More real?

Yeah. More about, you know, life.

Hey, don't get upset.

of it's really beautiful.

I promise I'll read it again.

Things have been so damn tough for me.

The acting didn't pan out. And then Gene, my friend, left.

Anais, what's happened to Henry?

He's so changed.

June, I don't know.

I don't know what to say.

I've been busy.

I've seen him occasionally. We work on our writing together.

Sometimes.

But... I don't know.

I've... I've been seeing someone.

You mean you have a lover?

That man you came with?

Yes, Eduardo.

Anais, I'm so happy for you.

I don't know who I came back for.

Don't let it come between us, Anthony.

Please.

I need your faith.

That could be good luck, too.

Henry. Dad.

Henry.

June. I'd like you to meet Jack, the man who wants to publish my book. My wife,

June. Hiya, Jack.

Nice to meet you, Mrs Miller.

I feel I already know you intimately from reading Henry's book.

Oh, yeah?

What do you think?

I think it's strong meat.

That's how we'll market it.

What's our cut?

Your cut?

That'll be 5%. Crummy 5%?

You mean Henry spends years writing the book, lives like a bum, busts his

nuts, and I scrape by and do without, and pour my heart and soul into making

him some kind of Dostoevsky, and all we get is 5%? With me, the percentage will

mean something. What does mean something mean?

I believe it's a fair deal.

Well, I'll be.

Of course, if you don't want to publish it, it's all right. No, no, no, no.

Henry just doesn't get business.

Let's us talk.

By all means.

But as I've said, before we can do anything, it's absolutely necessary to

have the money printed.

Jack, Jack, I've told you, I'll get the money.

Jack.

I guess I was naive about how things work in your business.

I hope I didn't upset you, Jack.

I was wondering if some sort of advance might be possible.

Or maybe there's room to improve on the percentage.

Let's not discuss it now.

Here's not the place.

Maybe you know a place where we could have lunch?

I do. I certainly do.

Marvelous.

Well, it's done, then.

It's been so good to meet you.

Really. It's been wonderful having you.

Good night.

Yeah.

See you.

Bye.

What is he trying to kid?

Crummy 5%. Well, he hasn't dealt with this Brooklyn girl yet.

Let's go to the dome for a nightcap, Henry.

Go ahead, we'll join you later.

A bientot.

Always merry and bright.

Yeah, to you too.

Fine.

Well, I should go now.

No, no, Anais, don't go.

You can catch up with Eduardo later.

All right, Eduardo?

Say, you know, I don't know.

I was thinking maybe it's not time to publish Henry's book just now.

I'll publish.

What are you talking about, June?

What I'm talking about is a crappy deal.

And the fact that you're taking advantage of Anais.

And Hugo, too.

They're not made of gold, Henry.

Am I right, Anais?

Well, yes, but no. We really believe we have to publish it.

I'll get it published.

The right way.

Just like I always have.

We've always managed to survive, you and me, Henry.

Besides, it needs work.

What? It's not ready.

It's much better than when I first read it. But it could be even better.

There's too much anger in the book, Henry.

Too much anger?

Too much fucking anger?

Even Anais agrees that you distorted me in your book.

She had to write her own book.

Isn't that right, Anais? No, June.

Well, I mean, I did tell June that you failed to perceive certain things.

Anais, don't.

After all I've done for him, Anais, he owes me. For all the years I sacrificed.

Oh, well, your sacrifices just add to your greatness.

I don't know what you're thinking.

You don't what?

No, June, what Henry really means is... Anais, don't, for Christ's sake, can't

you see what she's doing?

Don't yell at me!

He treats you like a child.

She's a woman, Henry.

I know she's a woman.

I'll bet you do.

Get some sleep, Anais.

I don't know why I keep on thinking of this little Chinese restaurant Henry and

I used to go to after I got off work.

He'd wait for me outside the dance hall at two in the morning.

Then we'd rush through the freezing cold, holding each other tight.

We get there just before closing time.

Sit in the booth by the window eating chow mein.

Watching the snow swirl by.

There was some kind of unbelievable thrill in the air between us.

I feel kind of haunted by it now.

Chinle's.

It's funny.

Seems like a dream.

Your eyes make me shy.

Don't be shy.

You're so lovely.

You're so small.

I burnt myself out.

worship you.

I don't want worship.

I want to understand.

We understand you.

We should go away somewhere together where there's lots of snow.

How little you are.

So thin.

I could break you in two.

June,

I feel innocent now.

No. Once Henry falls asleep, nothing can wake him up.

Oh, yeah?

I'm sorry.

I lost my hand. I was drunk, I guess. Don't be sorry.

This new lover of yours has really made you glow.

Oh, it's so chilly.

Tell me more about him.

Did you make curtains for him?

Did you give him books to read?

Did you give him a typewriter?

No.

June, no, you don't understand.

I don't understand?

What don't I understand?

That I love you.

Love?

You just want experience.

You're a writer. You make love to whatever you need.

You're just like Henry.

No, I'm just like you.

I can see exactly what you're doing.

You're so slippery.

So slippery.

You bitch.

Liar. Trickster. You bought his love.

June, shut up.

You both robbed me blind.

You stole everything.

What do I care?

I got plenty more to give. Shut up.

Some truly great writer.

Henry said you just took us in because you were bored.

That's a lie.

What?

to be for everything.

Very pretty.

Just like I figured it.

Now I know everything.

I just wanted to return something before I leave.

Just friends. I never touched her. Get rid of it, Henry. Get rid of it.

Okay. All right. You made your choice.

I've only got one more thing I can give you.

Your last chapter.

Watch closely.

Jules!

I thought you'd do something crazy. I never know.

I looked all over for her.

You like the war though?

Hey, what are you doing? Come on.

Leave that there.

Stay with me. For Christ's sake.

Let's get a talk.

I can't.

Hey, great guy.

Fuck you, Jack.

That won't do it.

That won't get rid of me.

You're my friend.

I'm gonna come after you.

Hey.

How could you leave me at a time like this? I need you.

I need you.

One eight.

I thought you might need a lift

Is

everything alright?

Give me your hand.

That morning, I wept.

I wept because I loved the stories that took me away from Hanoi and would lead

me back to him.

I wept.

because the process by which I had become a woman was painful.

I wept because from now on I would weep less.

I wept because I had lost my pain, and I was not yet accustomed to its absence.