Love Story / История любви

I liked the way she enjoyed my athletic qualities. But I had to shoot myself down by giving her my father’s.

“He rowed single sculls[47] in the 1928 Olympics.”

“God,” she said. “Did he win?”

“No,” I answered, and I guess she could tell that the fact that he was sixth in the finals actually afforded me some comfort.

“But what does he do to qualify as a sonovabitch?” Jenny asked.

“Make me,” I replied.

“Beg pardon?”

“Make me,” I repeated.

Her eyes widened like saucers. “You mean like incest?” she asked.

“Don’t give me your family problems, Jen. I’ve got enough of my own.”

“Like what, Oliver?” she asked, “like just what is it he makes you do?”

“The ‘right things,’” I said.

“What’s wrong with the ‘right things’?” she asked.

I told her how I hated the fact that I was programmed for the Barrett Tradition. And I had to deliver x amount of achievement every single term.

“Oh yeah,” said Jenny with broad sarcasm, “I notice how you hate getting A’s, being All-Ivy—”

“What I hate is that he expects no less!” Just saying what I had always felt (but never before spoken) made me feel uncomfortable as hell, but now I had to make Jenny understand it all. “And he’s so incredibly unemotional, when I do come through. I mean he just takes me absolutely for granted[48].”

“But he’s a busy man. Doesn’t he run lots of banks and things?”

“Jesus, Jenny, whose side are you on?”

“Is this a war?” she asked.

“Most definitely,” I replied.

“That’s ridiculous, Oliver.”

She seemed genuinely unconvinced. And there I got my first suspicion of a cultural gap between us.

I mean, three and a half years of Harvard-Radcliffe had pretty much made us into the self-assured intellectuals, but when it came to accepting the fact that my father was made of stone, she stuck to some atavistic Italian-Mediterranean notion of papa-loves-bambinos, and there was no arguing otherwise.

I told her about that ridiculous nonconversation after the Cornell game. This definitely made an impression on her. But the goddamn wrong one.

“He went all the way up to Ithaca to watch a lousy hockey game?”

I tried to explain that my father was all form and no content. She was still obsessed with the fact that he had traveled so far for such a (relatively) trivial sports event.

“Look, Jenny, can we just forget it?”

“Thank God you’re hung up about[49] your father,” she replied. “That means you’re not perfect.”

“Oh – you mean you are?”

“Hell no, Preppie. If I was, would I be going out with you?”

Back to business as usual.

5

I would like to say a word about our physical relationship.

For a strangely long while there wasn’t any. I mean, there wasn’t anything more significant than those kisses already mentioned (all of which I still remember in greatest detail). This was not typical of me, because I was rather impulsive, impatient and quick to action.

But I just didn’t know what to do.

Don’t misunderstand or take that too literally. I knew all the moves. I just couldn’t cope with my own feelings about making them. Jenny was so smart that I was afraid she might laugh at what I had traditionally considered the romantic style of Oliver Barrett IV. I was afraid she would reject me, yes. I was also afraid she would accept me for the wrong reasons. What I am trying to say is that I felt different about Jennifer, and didn’t know what to say. I just knew I had these feelings. For her. For all of her.

* * *

“You’re going to flunk out, Oliver.”

We were sitting in my room on a Sunday afternoon, reading.

“Oliver, you’re going to flunk out if you just sit there watching me study.”

“I’m not watching you study. I’m studying.”

“Bullshit. You’re looking at my legs.”

“Only once in a while[50]. Every chapter.”

“That book has extremely short chapters.”

“Listen, you’re not that great-looking!”

“I know. But what can I do if you think so?”

I threw down my book and crossed the room to where she was sitting.

“Jenny, for Christ’s sake, how can I read John Stuart Mill when every single second I’m dying to make love to you?”

She frowned.

“Oh, Oliver, would you please?”

I was squatting by her chair. She looked back into her book.

“Jenny—”

She closed her book softly, put it down, then placed her hands on the sides of my neck.

“Oliver – would you please.”

It all happened at once. Everything.

* * *

Our first physical encounter was the polar opposite of our first verbal one. It was all so unhurried, so soft, so gentle. I had never realized that this was the real Jenny – the soft one, whose touch was so light and so loving. And yet what truly shocked me was my own response. I was gentle, I was tender. Was this the real Oliver Barrett IV?

I had never seen Jenny with her sweater opened an extra button. I was somewhat surprised to find that she wore a tiny golden cross. On one of those chains that never unlock. I mean, when we made love, she still wore the cross. In a resting moment of that lovely afternoon, when everything and nothing is relevant, I touched the little cross and inquired what her priest might say about our behavior.

She answered that she had no priest.

“Aren’t you a good Catholic girl?” I asked.

“Well, I’m a girl,” she said. “And I’m good.”

She looked at me for confirmation and I smiled. She smiled back.

“So that’s two out of three.”

I then asked her why she was wearing the cross. She explained that it had been her mother’s; she wore it for sentimental reasons, not religious. The conversation returned to ourselves.

“Hey, Oliver, did I tell you that I love you?” she said.

“No, Jen.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

“I was afraid to, frankly.”

“Ask me now.”

“Do you love me, Jenny?”

She looked at me and answered:

“What do you think?”

“Yeah. I guess. Maybe.”

I kissed her neck.

“Oliver?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t just love you…”

Oh, Christ, what was this?

“I love you very much, Oliver.”

6

I love Ray Stratton.

He may not be a genius or a great football player, but he was always a good roommate and loyal friend. And how that poor bastard suffered through most of our senior year. Where did he go to study when he saw the tie placed on the doorknob of our room (the traditional signal for “action within”)? Where did he sleep on those Saturday nights when Jenny and I decided to disobey parietal rules and stay together? Ray had to ask for places to sleep in – neighbors’ couches, etc., assuming they were vacant. Well, at least it was after the football season. And I was ready to do the same thing for him.

But what was Ray’s reward? Before I met Jenny, I had shared with him all the details of my amorous triumphs. Now I never even admitted that Jenny and I were lovers. I just indicated when we needed the room. Stratton could draw what conclusion he wished.

“I mean, Christ, Barrett, are you making it or not?” he asked.

“Raymond, as a friend I’m asking you not to ask.”

“But Christ, Barrett, afternoons, Friday nights, Saturday nights. Christ, you must be making it.”

“Then why do you have to ask me, Ray?”

“Because it’s unhealthy.”

“What is?”

“The whole situation, Ol. I mean, it was never like this before. I mean, this silence about details for me. I mean, this is undeserved. Christ, what does she do that’s so different?”

“Look, Ray, in a mature love affair—”

“Love?”

“Don’t say it like it’s a dirty word.”

“At your age? Love? Christ, I greatly fear, old buddy.”

“For what? My sanity?”

“Your bachelorhood. Your freedom. Your life!”

Poor Ray. He really meant it.

“You are afraid you’re losing a roommate, huh?”

“Still, in a way I’ve gained one, she spends so much time here.”

I was dressing for a concert, so this dialogue would soon finish.

“Don’t worry, Raymond. We’ll have that apartment in New York. We’ll have different girls every night. We’ll do it all.”

“Don’t tell me not to worry, Barrett. That girl’s got you.”

“It’s all under control,” I replied. I was adjusting my tie and heading for the door.

Stratton was somehow unconvinced.

“Hey, Ollie?”

“Yeah?”

“You are making it, aren’t you?”

“Jesus Christ, Stratton!”

* * *

I was not taking Jenny to this concert; I was watching her in it. The Bach Society was doing the Fifth Brandenburg Concerto at Dunster House[51], and Jenny was harpsichord soloist. I had heard her play many times, of course, but never with a group or in public. I was really proud. She didn’t make any mistakes that I could notice.

“I can’t believe how great you were,” I said after the concert.

“That shows what you know about music, Preppie.”

“I know enough.”

We were in the Dunster courtyard. Her musical colleagues were strolling nearby (including Martin Davidson, throwing invisible hate bombs in my direction), so I couldn’t discuss music with her.

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Примечания

1

последний год обучения

2

Библиотека женского колледжа Рэдклифф, организационно связанного с Гарвардским университетом (до 1999 г. имел отдельную администрацию, но общие помещения и профессорско-преподавательский состав)

3

востребованные

4

«Осень Средневековья» – философско-культурологический трактат голландского автора Йохана Хёйзинги

5

(разг.) выпускник дорогостоящей частной школы (preparatory school), готовящей к поступлению в престижный колледж

6

(разг.) студентка колледжа Рэдклифф

7

Соответствует оценке пять с минусом

8

Имеется в виду Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806–1861) – известная английская поэтесса

9

Comparative literature

10

Ежедневная студенческая газета Гарвардского университета

11

список лучших студентов

12

Член хоккейной команды – победителя чемпионатов Лиги плюща. (Лига плюща (Ivy League) – неформальное название группы старейших и самых престижных университетов США, обеспечивающих высокий уровень образования)

13

Выпускник Phillips Exeter Academy – престижной частной старшей школы в городе Эксетер, штат Нью-Гэмпшир, США

14

рост 5 футов 11 дюймов (примерно 1 м 80 см), вес 185 фунтов (около 84 кг)

15

зд. penalty box (спорт.) – штрафная скамья

16

(амер. сл.) разгромили

17

Одно из двенадцати зданий, где проживают успешные студенты, названное в честь колониста Джона Уинтропа и его праправнука Джона Уинтропа, профессора математики и естественной истории Гарвардского университета; находится в южной части гарвардского двора

18

The Memorial Church of Harvard University или Harvard Memorial Church – Гарвардская мемориальная церковь, построенная в 1932 г. в честь студентов и преподавателей Гарвардского университета, погибших в ходе Первой мировой войны

19

Спорткомплекс, в котором находятся раздевалки для спортсменов и комнаты для тренеров; хранится спортивный инвентарь; имеются душевые кабины; на втором этаже – зал, в котором проводят дружеские встречи после спортивных матчей

20

(идиом.) …ты-то можешь издеваться над людьми, но сама такого обращения не терпишь!

21

зд. то же, что score off (phr. v.) – одержать верх (над к.-л.)

22

(амер. сл.) недотрога

23

Bach Society Orchestra of Harvard University – главный камерный оркестр Гарвардского университета, все участники которого, включая дирижёра, – студенты

24

(идиом.) play hard-to-get – изображать неприступность

25

(идиом. груб.) Пошли вы!

26

(амер. сл. пренебр.) канадец

27

в пределах слышимости

28

кровоостанавливающий карандаш

29

Ай-ай-ай!

30

Гора Рашмор в горном массиве Блэк-Хилс в Южной Дакоте, США. На этой горе высечен барельеф с портретами четырёх президентов США – Джорджа Вашингтона, Томаса Джефферсона, Теодора Рузвельта и Авраама Линкольна

31

(лат.) Medicinae Doctor – врач

32

фингал

33

псевдоострота

34

имеет обыкновение

35

умалял свои достоинства

36

Корпус мира: агентство, созданное в 1961 г. по инициативе президента Дж. Ф. Кеннеди и с одобрения Конгресса США в рамках государственного департамента с целью формирования положительного имиджа США в развивающихся странах. В задачи агентства входило оказание помощи населению развивающихся стран в получении элементарных технических знаний и трудовых навыков

37

(идиом.) зд. ни с того, ни с сего

38

Мы сравняли счёт.

39

дежурная на коммутаторе

40

колонка в газете «Кримзон»

41

особое право на внимание Дженни

42

издали

43

50 фунтов, соответствуют примерно 23 кг (1 фунт составляет около 0,45 кг)

44

Пословица Out of sight, out of mind соответствует русской «С глаз долой – из сердца вон»

45

сокр. от midget car – малолитражный автомобиль

46

слитное написание son of a bitch – сукин сын

47

(спорт.) академическая гребля на лодках-одиночках

48

как само собой разумеется

49

(идиом.) зациклен

50

изредка

51

Одно из двенадцати зданий, где проживают успешные студенты, названное в честь первого президента Гарварда Генри Данстера; находится в южной части гарвардского двора