That Summer in Paris by Callaghan Morley;

Author:Callaghan, Morley;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Exile Editions

“Zelda has to get up early in the morning. She’s taking those ballet lesson,” and he pointed out that girls as a rule started studying ballet when they were about twelve! Zelda had started when she was over thirty and it was hard for her; it was all very tiring. I asked him why she wanted to take up ballet dancing at her age. It was quite understandable, Scott said; she wanted to have something for herself, be something herself. I recalled her sudden aggressive assertion at dinner that she too was a good writer. Was she bent on competing with Scott for the limelight? Of course, that was it. How unlucky for Scott. And I remember taking Loretto’s arm and looking at her, hoping she would never feel driven to jockey with me publicly for attention.

Scott was walking along with us, talking easily now as if nothing of particular interest had happened. He told us we really ought to visit the big cafés.

He suggested that we should walk along and sit at the Dôme. It was a place we ought to visit, he said. We wondered where he thought we had been all this time. Yet walking along to the Dôme, we held our peace. Why hadn’t we told him we had been in the Trianon with the Joyces, and now that we sat every night at the Sélect near the Dôme? Because of his eager enthusiasm, the pleasure he got out of offering a new experience he thought would please you. I always had the inclination when with him to keep quiet and not spoil his fun. Sitting at the brightly lit Dôme terrace, so crowded with tourists, he explained, like a man slumming, that the Dôme had been just a little zinc bar. All the tourists were there, he was sure, because they had readThe Sun Also Rises. I can still see him there on the terrace, all his wonderful availability in his quick conversation, his smile, his unspoilt eagerness to find goodwill and friendship in those he liked. Then suddenly he asked, “Couldn’t we all have dinner together? Couldn’t we get the Hemingways? Couldn’t you suggest it to Ernest, Morley?”

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