Chapter XIV – a radical chic marquioness
This morning, following the advice of a chaffinch chirping on a pine tree, while I was watching the sea from my terrace in Elba island looking for the answer to this mystery that surrounds me, I called the Baroness. Distractedly I told her about a somewhat spicy tinder adventure I had.
‘Look, you have an emotional block’ she sentenced.
‘What do you mean?’.
‘You can not create stable emotional connections, in fact you have no children’.
‘Why do you blame me? How many do you have?’
‘None, in fact at 40 this is a problem’.
‘Mine or yours?’
‘Yours! In life the only thing that matters is to reproduce ‘.
‘But I told you that if you wanted a child I could impregnate you’.
‘Yes but not like this right off the table!’.
‘I thought more in bed’.
‘How superficial are you men’.
‘A lot’.
‘But how can you not want to share trips and beautiful moments with someone?’.
‘Actually, I am always surrounded by people, my priority is rather to find moments of solitude. And then I live my creativity writing, I do not feel the need to reproduce biologically ‘.
‘And why not falling in love and then get together?’.
‘But were you not the left one, the radical chic who hates romance novels? This is exactly the bourgeois marriage ideal’.
‘The problem is simply an emotional block’.
‘Mine or yours?’
‘Yours!’.
‘Do you remember Freud and the defense mechanism called projective identification, the one that projects one’s own patterns onto other people?’.
‘No’.
‘Indeed. Now pardon me but I have a notification on tinder ‘.