Iggy Pop
Here are my treasures, and my companions. I gave them life, and they give me consolation. It is a pleasure to share them in this way. They are part of my spirit.
—Iggy Pop
Here are my treasures, and my companions. I gave them life, and they give me consolation. It is a pleasure to share them in this way. They are part of my spirit.
—Iggy Pop
One evening almost thirty years later, a call from an unknown number. The ringing brings your husband out of the kitchen, ladle still in hand. This is the prelude to the only scenario that keeps him up at night: some stranger, a kelp-rig medic perhaps, interrupting dinner to notify you that your son has been killed, washed overboard somewhere off the coast of Cambria amid the gray roil and boom of the Pacific.
To flaunt your immunity to these catastrophic fantasies, you let the phone ring and ring.
Tom’s smiling, but he doesn’t find it funny. “Pick up, Syl.” Then, . . .
My husband considers the bedroom shutters, all twelve of them closed, latched, taped shut around the edges.
“You’re the one who did that?” he says, pointing.
The question’s unnecessary. With all three children away at school, we are the house’s sole occupants. If he didn’t tape the shutters closed, I did.
“It’s all right,” I say. “It’s that special tape the painter left behind, the kind that doesn’t hurt the finish.”
“I’m not worried abo . . .
Mario Martone’s film Troubling Love, adapted from Elena Ferrante’s novel of the same name, premiered at the 1995 Cannes Film Festival. The editors present a correspondence between the writer and the filmmaker that shaped the adaptation.