"Barry N. Malzberg - Ready When You Are" - читать интересную книгу автора (Malzberg Barry N)

her
and one Academy Award for best supporting, she lives in an eternal,
glistening present and tries not to think of metaphor. Or so she had
once
told Finzie in one of their serious conversations. "You can make it
better
if you want," she says. "You can make it even better than that."
Her hand pleads exactingly for a more convincing gesture, Finzie gives
it
to her. Unheeded now, the film clatters on in the clutch of the player,
the scenes of the great dictator's magnanimity and sexual skills not to
be
noticed by the pair tangled on the bed. It is splendor, splendor Finzie
thinks, but now and again that perilous insertion fails and he must
start
all over again. Take five, take six. Climb the slippery and elusive
Pyrenees. Groan the expiring sigh of the damned and the doomed into the
solid panels of his lady's neck.
And that groan then the true encapsulation of an admission which Finzie
could not have otherwise made: somewhere back there in Flatbush the
kid,
not yet a superhero, not even a top student in his audiovisual course,
tugs for a firmer grip upon himself, trying to overturn that sense of
fragility and despair which utterly encapsulates; but the mature
Finzie,
this sliding and groaning Finzie as it were, cannot help the kid,
cannot
communicate in any way. Finzie has his own and fraught concerns, not
only
 sexual climax but enlightenment seems to spill as he allows the calming
and soothing gestures of that appendage, Eve Harlow, to carry him his
anguished way home. In the spaces of his own theatre, on the internal
screen, an ever-greater and wondrous film of another kind seems to be
unreeling but Finzie is not able to see it now, so narrow is his funnel
of
attention, so elongate the tube of concentration. Oh Eve, oh Eve this
famous filmmaker grunts, oh Eve, hold me how he cries and softly,
insistently, in search of a plum role, Eve Harlow gathers him in.

Later, sometime after the press has disbanded and the juries have
returned
to their individual countries of origin, after the starlets have
replaced
their upper garments and the last cajoling interviewer has packed away
recorder and headed for the Concorde, Finzie walks out and along the
waters by himself, the fine grains of beach glinting at him with small
and
confidential messages. Gone too is Eve Harlow, returning to loop
dialogue
on a romantic comedy, then an Arthur Miller revival in London for a few