Chapter 8

... Meanwhile, while the whispered question hangs in the air, Suhrob answers Yuri:

“What does honor even have to do with it? You and your honor...”

“It has everything to do with it!” Yuri says stubbornly. Suhrob whispers into Annette’s ear again:

“Mine is big. They say you like that.”

He reinforces the words with a hand that travels much farther beneath the robe. That is how Suhrob discovers that beneath the bodysuit Annette put on to reconcile with her husband, she is wearing no panties. Annette is stunned. By now she does not stop Suhrob simply because she wants to know, to understand this unpleasant man. How far will he go, and why? It is ordinary female curiosity, which, however, absolutely must be satisfied, because unsatisfied curiosity spoils a woman’s character and, they say, even affects her physical health.

Meanwhile Suhrob keeps answering Yuri:

“I know one thing,” he says. “Better to share a sponge cake with four other people than choke alone on a pie filled with filth. Imagine living with a wife whose only virtue is fidelity! Her soul is black, her face is ugly, her cooking is greasy — but she’s faithful! And this miracle bird would happily cheat too; she whistles and chirps for attention, except no one wants her! People very often use fidelity to excuse every kind of vileness. Same thing with patriotism ... but I’ll stop there.”

“Yes, the last thing we need is an argument about politics too,” Yuri agrees, watching Suhrob whisper something else to his wife. “Let everyone worship his own political feed...”

Omar is almost ready to laugh openly at the “local sucker” whose wife is being worked on right in front of him. The Tragedian also finds Yuri’s tragedy amusing. Perhaps he is right. Life — any life — is tragic and comic at once. If you look at it with “kind eyes,” you risk missing thousands of grotesque little details. A human being, any human being at all, is extraordinarily funny ... Do not think Yuri alone deserves the Tragedian’s laughter. I have not described You yet. And I will not, because I do not want to hurt your feelings. A human being is defenseless and vulnerable; he cannot bear to look at himself in literature’s blinding mirror...