仇恨的代价

  看了carol在纽约的点映，一连两场，几乎满座。电影院6个厅里有四个在放carol，不禁感叹纽约人民在文化活动这件事上超高的幸福指数。你想看的，你想见的，只要穿过难以置信的肮脏与拥挤，都能见到。看完电影整个人都处在一种极其懵逼的状态下，站在寒风中等机场巴士，忍着一天没吃没喝的饥肠辘辘排队安检，这些场景现在回忆起来显得格外模糊。而清晰是，电影院里一对又一对沉默的情侣，为爱情流眼泪的男男女女，还有该死的忘不掉的爱情。首先做个总结陈词，谢谢海因斯，谢谢女王，谢谢麻辣妹子，谢谢纽约，谢谢感恩节。这对于我来说是一场万人齐心的梦，是近期感受到的最壮阔而又细腻的事情。

  然而故事还是那个俗套的故事，无非是性向摇摆的多金中年白富美与不满恋爱现状的文青小白兔之间的牵绊和拉扯。一见钟情，共进午餐，互生好感，结伴旅行。做陷入爱情的人都会做的事——做爱，亲吻，伤害，挽回。很多侧面或正面的小细节都处理的很好，比如小记者对therese说“你应该多拍拍人”，比如therese和男友之间关于boy’s love的争论，比如女王把手搭在therese的肩上时therese无法掩饰的紧张，再比如妹子读了carol给的分手信自己跑到草丛里吐。不得不说，todd比女人更了解女人，有些小场景一出，少女们纷纷捶胸顿足，恨自己怎么就没有过如此真实而又铭心的恋爱经历。

  有一幕给我印象格外深刻，是发生在carol抛下therese消失在旅行途中之后。carol坐在出租车里，正在赶去一个类似于庭外调解的小型会面。路上行人来去匆匆，carol望向窗外，看见了therese，穿着红色的毛衣格子裙，手中拿着黑色的小本子，穿过人群与车辆。与不久前曾经伤害过的恋人偶遇，她看不见你，你久久凝视，凝视着极力克制住的情感，凝视着她也凝视着自己。caol的心理转变发生在一瞬间，真实，克制，不说一句，没有流下一滴眼泪，内心却如同千万波涛汹涌着，冲击过早已瓦解的堡垒。在这里，cate为所有人奉献了教科书般的演技，细微到几乎无法察觉的面部表情变化，眼神里的隐忍，呼吸间的紧张与压抑——没有任何多余的动作，完美到令人发指。这是一场不动声色的崩溃，也是重生，它发生的极为突然，却让你如此深刻的体会到命运的定数和爱情的魔力。有了这一段的铺垫，自然有了后面在调解会议上她的一番话，承认和therese之间发生的事情，不抵赖，不妥协。她克制住自己的情感，最后一次表明了自己的立场，“我不会再妥协了。如果你执意不允许我见女儿，我们可以上法庭。但那样我们会变的ugly,我们都不是ugle的人，不是吗。”说完，carol哭着走出调解室，抛下其实无辜的丈夫，和一段再也没有意义的婚姻。其实这里关于ugly的说法是很有趣的，可能正是由于carol与前夫之间并没有太多单方面的情感，才会以ugly来定义整件事的未来走向，有种旁观者叙述故事时的清白与掌控力，又透露出婚姻生活的种种无奈与无力。也是因为这里，才更能对比出carol和therese情感间的交互，深刻，以及不受控。

  或许是看戏的过客过分敏感，太过痴心；或许是妹子超越年龄的演技（感觉凭这一部麻辣可以轻松拿到所有最佳女主，有几幕她比cate演的还要好），让自我代入变得极为容易与自然；又或许是导演的恶趣味，巴不得全世界的女人都因为cate弯成一盘蚊香（恶趣味这件事有证可循，详见nyff采访和cannes记者见面会，对于“中国女生看过预告片都变弯”的反复强调）。总之电影会让人产生一种持续力超强的crush，更致命的是你可能会发现这场crush是个无头案，既不是对therese也不完全是对carol，好像只是迷恋上了一种氛围，在现实中不可见，在电影中又转瞬即逝。但只要抓住了，便是掉入了不复的深渊，久久难以抽离。于是心心念念着再看一遍只看一遍，却可能不自觉又反反复复琢磨了好几十回。而充满胶片感的一帧帧画面，是这场集体暗恋的源头。

  不得不说，电影用16mm摄影机拍摄呈现出的明显的粗粝感，在电影院里感受的应该是最为深刻。复古拍摄手法的运用，也让一切感情的流动变的缓慢，宁静，克制。和原著不同，therese的设定从舞台设计师变成了摄影师。基本上胶片机不离手，也有一场在暗室里冲洗照片的独角戏。她把照片纸放进药水里，用夹子再加出来，抖落下水滴，然后久久凝视着照片中的carol。这是一种很奇妙的体验，胶片的质感为观众营造出一种触碰感，而影片里的人，也触碰着用胶片机拍摄出的照片。情欲的流动，不再仅仅局限在电影里。todd通过这个改编，创造出一种看似不可能的纽带，让一些东西从carol的一颦一笑滑落到therese的每一张照片上，再一转，自然的流进每一个电影院里观众的心。你要问我这些究竟是什么，我不太想说。因为这是一种隐秘的恋爱的心情——不可能之可能，每一个电影观众都曾深深幻想过的极为致命的不足为外人道的bad romance。

  我不否认有人指出的carol被过誉，因为的确它只是一部完美的水准之作。题材讨巧，演员惊艳，拿捏的恰到好处的复古，这一切让它在起点比其他电影高的同时也丧失了一种生气与惊喜。然而这部电影的精妙之处在于，在克制与爆发间找到了一个完美的平衡点。所有人都凝神屏息的站在这个平衡点上，以小格局来放大人类与人类之间最最普通的情感。同性爱的挣扎与抗争被弱化，最浓烈的笔墨都献给情感的摇摆。这是优点还是缺点，争辩在看完电影后已经毫无意义。因为没有人能抵挡住todd的特写。每一支烟，每一次转身，每一次欲言又止沉默不语，每一次眼神交汇意乱情迷。这是每一根发丝都生机勃勃充满爱意的美，这是寂寞世界上最远离天堂的天堂，这是每一个失魂人拼命寻找的归途与故乡。

  就让画面停止在最后的对视。当装饰统统撕去，彼此赤裸相对。好像有什么东西悄悄从你身体里升起，然后又重重落下。你带着它开始奔跑，身处千万个陌生城市，身处千万个房间，身处荒无人烟的小岛，身处地狱，身处天堂。

随手丢一个结合个人经历的观后感链接：http://www.douban.com/note/528243740/

毫无疑问，《卡罗尔》在视觉上有出众的细腻美感。影片的摄影风格节制，冷静，有着极强的艺术性，仿佛每一帧都可以被定格为精致优雅的画报。相较之下，《卡罗尔》的剧情似乎偏弱，被许多人评价为格局小，新意少，只是专注的讲述了一段隐秘深刻的爱情，而无更多对社会的注解与批判。

然而我认为，《卡罗尔》的格局并不小，它对政治和社会的批判只是没有在剧情大纲里直接表现出来而已。

实际上，电影的美学形式和内涵并不应该被泾渭分明的区分开来。《卡罗尔》对“大格局”的野心，恰恰体现在一些电影构图的小细节里：镜头下那些看似空洞的精致布景，可能蕴藏着丰富的象征，使电影表达的内涵远不限于剧本故事本身。而这其实才是电影有别于文学的独特魅力。

比如，《卡罗尔》中常出现一个有趣的取景角度：镜头常常是透过玻璃窗望向迷蒙的人物或城市街道的。那么这时常隔在视线中的玻璃窗应该被怎样解读呢？


1. 女性的困境

《卡罗尔》中的确没有激进的政治宣言，也没有热血的抗争，有的只是两位女主角之间静水深流的爱。然而，即使没有露骨地政治性批判，影片许多小细节都微妙地暗示了50年代美国女性的“不自由”。

鲁尼·马拉所饰演的百货公司售货员特芮丝在初见凯特所饰演的富裕家庭主妇卡罗尔时，调笑地说着，我很乐意带你去看我爱的火车模型，但现在我只能被困在这个洋娃娃专柜后。

当卡罗尔为了与女儿相见，只能同丈夫的家人一起用餐，她不断辩解着自己见的是心理理疗师而非医生。似乎在用一种间接隐晦但又毫无退让的方式坚持着自己的同性爱倾向并不是疾病。而极为讽刺的细节是，此时餐桌旁的电视里，某位名人正激昂地演讲着“自由”的美利坚所拥有的那个“自由”的未来。

50年代的美国女性已经拥有了选举投票权。但发生在60年代的，致力于解救中产阶级女性于家庭主妇命运的第二波女权主义，还远没有席卷美国。而一直要到80年代，女同性恋的权益才被纳入女权主义的讨论范围内。这些在法律上已拥有选举权的女性，看似已经身处在一个自由而平等的社会，然而卡罗尔显然并不“自由”。尤其当法律指认她的同性爱是道德问题，并剥夺她见女儿的权利时。

所以，当特芮丝坐在男性友人的汽车后座，隔着起雾的玻璃窗望向纽约夜间的街道和愉悦的行人时，或是当她站在卡罗尔家里，透过窗户望见正与丈夫纠缠吵闹地卡罗尔时——镜头的语言都是极富深意的。

表面上看来，她望向的“自由”的城市空间，或是她默默爱恋的人，就在她触手可及的地方。但如果她真的伸出手，触摸到的只能是冰冷的窗玻璃。



卡罗尔在与特芮丝分开后，正是经历了这样的幻觉和困境：她坐在汽车的后座，透过玻璃窗看见身着红衣的特芮丝行走在窗外的街道上。她的渴望已经近在咫尺，但她并不能真正得到。她能做的只有静坐在车里，继续前往裁决她命运的听证会。

从这个角度来看，影片中的玻璃窗可能象征着一种自由无拘束的幻觉，一种伪善的囚禁。换句话说，50年代的美国给女性开了一张“平等自由”的空头支票，自由对她们来说看得见却摸不着，她们依然在社会限制的眼光中周身不得动弹。而《卡罗尔》中频繁出现的玻璃窗意象，则是用艺术性的方式进行了类似的政治批评。

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2. 都市人的孤独

但是，电影中的玻璃窗显然远不止一种解读的方式。在我看来，除了女权政治相关的批评之外，玻璃窗这个意象还使《卡罗尔》有了对城市生活的批判性思考。

电影中有两组相似的镜头，出现在卡罗尔两次与法律系统关于女儿抚养权的失败交涉后。镜头里，卡罗尔独自站或坐在落地玻璃窗后，窗外大街上匆匆行人的身影也隐约倒映在玻璃上。

于是镜头记录下的是一个忧郁的错觉：在窗玻璃的平面上，卡罗尔的影子与窗外行人的影子叠在一起，似乎正身处在窗外行人的包围之中；然而事实是她独身一人，与城市的人群远远相隔。这其实正是都市生活中人最容易产生的情感。穿梭在城市空间中的都市人每日要遇见许许多多的陌生人，然而个体的孤独却始终难解。



与此同时，卡罗尔与特芮丝身为陌生人的一见钟情，大概是对城市偶遇最浪漫的想象。但是电影并没有用很浓烈的笔墨刻画她们变得亲密的过程，一切是克制而隐秘的。

《卡罗尔》仅用几个简洁的场景就描摹出她们的心意相通：在卡罗尔与丈夫争吵后，我们看到的是她没有泪水的悲伤。然而目睹了一切后的特芮丝乘火车归家，身旁的窗玻璃上却影映着她哭泣的脸。

一个简单的镜头就已经述说了所有。特芮丝的悲伤显然是与卡罗尔的一种共情。虽然此时她与卡罗尔只是仅见过三面的“陌生人”，她却仿佛感同身受着卡罗尔的痛苦，并代替她流下了眼泪。

由此看来，在《卡罗尔》中，玻璃窗的意向是复杂的：它既映照了城市人群的孤独，也成为了照出都市人内心感情的镜子。

无论是哪一种解读，其实都不仅仅局限于两位女主人公之间所谓“私人”的爱情。这些细节所投射的其实是一些社会性的情感：“城里人”的孤独和对知己的渴求。这个“大格局”的主题在电影史上早已被讨论了千万遍，但《卡罗尔》的高明之处在于其注重视觉美感的隐晦处理。没有过多义正言辞的说教和矫情烂俗的桥段，孤独和爱都通过精妙的摄影构图和玻璃窗这个视觉主题来呈现，让观众自己去看去感受。

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3. 电影艺术本身

然而，也许在大部分电影观众看来，《卡罗尔》中的玻璃窗到底意味着什么根本不重要。更重要的是，因为这些巧用玻璃窗的光影来拍摄的镜头，《卡罗尔》拥有了一种独特的美，并能让人置身一种怅然的情怀。

从某种程度上，其实无论是特芮丝手中的相机镜头，还是用以拍摄电影的相机镜头，都可以看做是一扇“玻璃窗”：特芮丝透过相机看到卡罗尔摄人心魄的美。而我们作为电影观众，透过托德海因斯的摄像机，看到的是一个能牵动人心弦的光影世界。

托德·海因斯本身就是一个影迷。他与所有观众一样，深深地迷恋着电影艺术的光影。《卡罗尔》复古的质感来源于胶片电影的独有魅力，同时也是导演继《远离天堂》之后，又一次对50年代好莱坞通俗喜剧大师道格拉斯·塞克的致敬。

关于塞克的电影，最著名的莫过于对比感强烈的配色。《卡罗尔》的色调是同样大胆的：从片中鲁尼·马拉常戴的那顶鲜艳的红黄相间的毛呢帽，到凯特·布兰切特雍容的衣着中点缀着的鲜橘色丝巾，总能成为纽约阴沉的冬天里亮眼的风景。

除了塞克，《卡罗尔》中两位女主人公的公路旅行也像是对著名女权电影《末路狂花》的致敬。只是与《末路狂花》中摧毁男权的旅程全然不同，当卡罗尔在愤怒中向偷窥她的私家侦探举起枪，那把枪里却并没有子弹。显然，在托德·海因斯的镜头下，卡罗尔与特芮丝并没有成为维权先锋。但海因斯用电影独特的美学形式书写了她们最美丽的感情，和最沉默的抗争。

无论是从女性主义角度的批评还是对城市生活的复杂刻画，《卡罗尔》首要顾及的从来不是政治正确和煲出正能量心灵鸡汤。影片的出发点始终在人与人之间的隐秘感情，这大概也是为什么许多人会觉得《卡罗尔》拘泥于儿女情长。然而我欣赏托德海因斯的视角，因为我也认为，在庞大的社会机器里，只有人的感情是永远无法被定义的变量。无论多么“大格局”的政治抗争和社会批评，都起源于个体因不愿放弃私人情感而勇敢突破禁忌。

在电影的结尾，当特芮丝终于在宴会的人群中走向卡罗尔，这一次她的视线里终于没有了玻璃窗的阻隔，也没有了她的相机，她坦然地走向了卡罗尔。手持摄像摇晃的镜头从她的视角望出去，我们看到卡罗尔的微笑。

* 部分原文投稿于《大众电影》杂志

这是一部看完2分23秒预告片就想打5星的电影。不为别的，就为最后一幕特瑞斯穿过人群目光如炬的寻着卡罗尔，而卡罗尔侧过交谈的脸望向她后，两个人远远的，相视而笑。这一幕太赋有张力，以至于看着她们的对视，我心跳都快漏了半拍，所谓美得令人窒息大抵也不过如此吧。
那一幕中特瑞斯穿过人群，穿过痛苦与成长，穿过凄凉荒漠与泥淖沼泽，定定的看着卡罗尔，继而义无反顾的走向她，也走向了自己的命运；命运的另一端卡罗尔同样望向她，眼神笃定又昧味，我知道你会来，所以我等。一眼万年。
还好不是“此刻我多想拥抱你，可惜时光之里山南水北，可惜你我中间人来人往”，还好一切都还来得及，我为这样的Happy Ending暗自庆幸。有人曾问某位女同博主，“你开这个微博是不是在说还是有人幸福的？”她回，“不是，是在说还是有人在坚持的”。同性恋题材影片的Happy Ending意义大概也在这般。

整部影片以倒叙的方式，建构于五十年代美国的大背景下，服饰、音乐、建筑、交通工具复古、优雅并透露着极简的禁欲系。片头以卡罗尔与特瑞斯最后的进餐为开始，一辆火车驶过，镜头拉到两人第一次见面的场景，特瑞斯是给卡罗尔推荐小火车模型的超市雇员，如同后面卡罗尔给特瑞斯的信中提到“Everything comes full circle”，一切恍如隔世，世间万物千回百转归于原点，犹如轮回。

1.Some people change your life forever.
凯特所饰的卡罗尔几乎满足了我对御姐的所有幻想，漂亮优雅、温柔多金、有思想会疼人，重要的是，她还分分钟向我们展示教科书级别的撩妹技能。光是性感的声线，听一句都害怕会怀孕。这样的卡罗尔，有谁能不被她吸引？于是特瑞斯在一场猝不及防的对视中与卡罗尔相遇，只因为这一眼，”Some people change your life forever.”卡罗尔故意遗落的手套，特瑞斯痴汉般盯着她忘记下单的神情，注定纠缠不清。

2.试探
卡罗尔约特瑞斯第一次午餐，她问”Did you live alone?”，这就是成熟女人的聪明之处，她不直接问你“你有男朋友吗？”她问你“你是自己一个人住吗？”年长的人，阅历将她们淬炼的懂得如何将问题说的进退自如，既不令对方难堪又能保持自己的空间。

3.What a strange girl you are,flung out of space.
卡罗尔对总是神色游离的特瑞斯说这句话，是我最喜欢的场景之一。鲁尼的笑很美，是那种不自知的美，与《龙纹身的女孩》中叛逆不羁形成鲜明对比。《龙纹身》里她是一个主动女上位007的朋克攻少女，而《卡罗尔》里她俨然成为一个无意中自带一抹娇羞的大写弱受。很多人不理解特瑞斯对卡罗尔的感情，以及频繁出现的羞赧，其实只要暗恋过的人就会知道，那是内心的小雀跃与不确定的体外表征。面对一个比自己优秀的年上，崇拜带着点暧昧，被夸奖后的惊讶跟欣喜，对她话语的揣摩跟模仿，特瑞斯不过就是年少时懵懵懂懂的自己。

4.信
特瑞斯第一次写下Carol名字的时候，我有被打动到。网络时代你见过很多温暖的小段子，而作为一个不再年轻的怪阿姨，我经历过手写信的时代尾声。那个时候，花上一整个夜晚，写一封词不达意的信，寄给一个并不在未来里的人，想象读信人的表情，期待她能感受到自己的全部情谊。Carol，写在纸上的名字，记在心里的样子。

5.你不是不会拒绝，你只是不会拒绝她
前面看特瑞斯制止了她杂志社朋友的亲吻时，并未想太多，直到后半部分监听风波过后，特瑞斯跟卡罗尔自责到，“是自己从来不懂拒绝，什么都不了解却还是什么都不拒绝”，我突然就笑了出来。特瑞斯，谁说你不懂拒绝？你拒绝了未来男同事的吻，拒绝了男友的法国邀请，拒绝了更好更圆的月亮，你只是，不拒绝她。
无力拒绝。不想拒绝。卡罗尔每次询问你”would you?”，你都不假思考毫不犹豫的回答”yes,I would”，除了最后一次，都是，毫不犹豫。第一次约饭，你愿意吗？我愿意；第一次问你愿意来我家吗？我愿意；第一次问我可以去你家吗？我愿意；第一次问，你愿意跟我一起去西部吗？我愿意。
这才是问题所在，你不是不能拒绝，你只是不想拒绝，她。

6.最好的爱情，最坏的身份
看《卡罗尔》我哭不出来，因为太真实了，反而让我时刻惊醒自己，你要抗住，这就是生活，你不能哭，不然你就输了。可以说，这是个单薄又俗气的故事，女人跟女人的感情本来就细腻无比，表演的过了容易显得用力过猛，表演的清浅又让感情看上去太羸弱，所以，几乎是凯特女王跟鲁尼的演技和内心戏撑起了整部电影。
鲁尼的表现让我惊讶，甚至比女王更动人，在从卡罗尔家里出来坐火车回住处的一幕戏中，她倔强的眼泪从脸上掉下来，我心里也跟着落泪。那是要多委屈，才能击垮对卡罗尔的迁就，我喜欢你，你也处处暗示对我有好感，你约我到你家却意外撞上你的丈夫，他的责问你的冷淡，迫使我就这样狼狈而逃。刚刚我还弹奏潜藏表白的钢琴曲，下一秒就被你挥之即去，我到底算什么？你到底喜欢我吗？还是无聊寂寞时的消遣？
特瑞斯怀揣着最好的爱情，却背负着最坏的身份。

7.什么是道德？
在禁止卡罗尔见她女儿的强制令中，提到的理由是，Morality.看到Carol提到Abbey恍然大悟又欲言又止的时候，我默默骂了句fuck,甚至我想到余虹在《颐和园》里讲的，“什么是道德？两个人在一起才是道德”。我为卡罗尔跟特瑞斯难过，也为Abbey难过，因为在世俗的观念中，爱与道德竟然是不相容的，这真是讽刺。那是五十年代的美国，又何止是五十年代的美国，那不就是现在的世界吗。有的人永远不明白，欺骗自己才是最大的不道德。

8.I fell useless.
这是特瑞斯在卡罗尔告诉她，自己在强制令下无法看望女儿时所说的话。之所以对这句话印象深刻，是因为这似乎是同性群体中最普遍的无力感，“我觉得自己很没用”。我既没有能力为你分担艰辛，又找不到方法令你舒展愁容，看起来陪伴是唯一能做的事情，也有文艺的话来相称“陪伴是最长情的告白”。
可是，我并不只想陪伴你。
我想在你丈夫质问你时挺身而出，告诉他我们是因为相互喜欢而认识；我想同你一起争夺回监护孩子的权力，一起打扮世界上最好看的圣诞树；我想带你逃离世俗的社会，在你说my angle之前吻上你。我想的很多，可是，我一件都做不到，我甚至无法以家人的身份在你的手术单上签字，这是我最难过而无力的地方。

9.偷来的时光
床戏拍的美的不多，《卡罗尔》要算一个。美不是色情，不是你想跟她做爱，而是除了她们两个，你觉得谁跟她们做爱都显得不美好。《卡罗尔》的床戏时间不长，也不激烈，可是你看的时候就会觉得暗涌流动，你会不忍心联想污秽。凯特的淡然自若，鲁尼的紧张颤抖，卡罗尔霸道的索取，特瑞斯默默的承受，轻车熟路的年上，红到耳根的年下，缓慢又炽热，相拥又绝望。那一刻我甚至怀疑她们在戏外是不是相爱的。
很少有这样的床戏，让人看的难过。她们迫切的将自己献给对方，她们知道前路无望而漫长，好像在一起的一小段时光都是偷来的，总是要还回去。所以离别前与卡罗尔亲近的特瑞斯，眼睛里挤满了沉默的悲伤，我担心她就想这样死在卡罗尔的怀里。其实一切，她是有预感的。

10.抱得上一晚，撑不过一生
发现被监听往回赶的路上，特瑞斯坐在副驾驶上哭着自责，她说自己应该拒绝的，她怨自己什么都不懂就什么都接受。卡罗尔停下车，抱着她，吻她，帮她擦眼泪，轻声说”I took what you give willingly”.听到这句话，我难过到想流泪，“我想要的你可能全给不了，可是你愿意给的那一点，我都想要”，她们彼此给予，却又暗自担忧因自己给对方带来的麻烦。悲情两难。
特瑞斯从小是独立长大的，从她干脆的语调也能感觉出，她并不软弱，或许是鲁尼本身的特质，特瑞斯给人的感觉近乎是强硬，可是，只有面对卡罗尔的时候，她整个人才会软下来，成为一个需要呵护渴望宠爱的小女孩，这里面或多或少有对卡罗尔的依赖。我愿意相信她懂”I took what you give willingly”.
最后卡罗尔还是走了，为了回去争夺女儿的监护权，像及了一个事后跑路的段数，然后前女友来收拾与现女友的残局，留下一封既渣又深情的信。包在被子里的特瑞斯如同被抛弃的小白兔，无辜的感受着昨晚的温存，揽入怀中的一晚，却还是撑不过一生。

11.原谅我不能陪你长大
“you seek resolutions and explanations because you’re young”.我没想到卡罗尔的信中会有这样一句，看起来如此狠心。明明是你主动撩骚，最后却让人家小姑娘自己去找解决的方法跟解释，就是因为她年轻。突然的就想起看到的一句话，“珍爱生命，远离人妻”，对于这种有备胎和下家的人，敬而远之是上策。可是就在后面她哑着嗓子对Abbey说”I should tell Therese ,wait”时，我内心隐隐作痛的替特瑞斯原谅了她。
她不是不想陪你长大，只是有更重要的人需要她。是，孩子。无论如何，让一位母亲处于选择自己孩子跟爱人两难的位置上，都过于残忍。
于是，她选择让特瑞斯独自成长，即使特瑞斯怀有误解与怨恨，也不多解释一句，只是说”I release you”,她在等待，等你长大，等以后成熟的时机，再共你促膝把酒。

12.I miss you,I miss you.
特瑞斯在暗房里洗过去的照片，一张张都是关于卡罗尔。照片上的人慵懒妩媚，照片外的人情欲暗动，她走出去拿起电话又放下，又拿起来，拨通。她叫她的名字，”Carol”,电话那边的她手指徘徊在挂断的按钮处，煎熬无比，最后，挂断。特瑞斯对着忙音说，I miss you,I miss you.
连想念你，我都无法说给你听。两个人的隐忍、克制与轰轰烈烈。

13.不是我们不美好，是这个世界太丑陋
这并不是一部冲突不断的片子，以至于无法令人血脉喷张、震惊无比，即便节奏因为电影的时长看上去有些赶，但故事情节发展及其缓慢的，卡罗尔与他丈夫最后的谈判，大概是影片唯一引爆点。可是连这个场面，都被拍成是一种被压抑着的感觉，没有撕破嘴脸。
这一段凯特的演技着实让我大为感叹不愧是女王。发颤的声音、隐忍的表情，你会担心下一秒她就要崩溃了，就要歇斯底里了，就要咒骂整个世界了，但是，她没有。哪怕内心早已腥风血雨，表面还是死死的绷着，绷着自己的尊严与优雅，绷着对特瑞斯的直视与无悔，穿上外套，离开身后的卑鄙与肮脏。
在离开之前她说了这样一句话，”and it will get ugly,we’re not ugly people”。这句令我异常难过，想到《奇葩说》里蔡康永第一次失态痛哭的场景，好像一个委屈的孩子在恳求这个世界的包容，他说“我们不是妖怪”。为什么要世人包容呢？如若是正常，如若是平等，为什么要别人去包容，包容给人一种高高在上的感觉。卡罗尔的丈夫用了无比卑劣的手段去偷窥她们隐私，而卡罗尔最后却说”we’re not ugly people”.她对人性还抱有一丝希望，她希望大家不用凶神恶煞的以丑陋嘴脸相见，她希望这个世界是美好的。

14.你不在的日子，我兀自成长
是不是所有人都有一种高估自己的倾向，愿意看到别人的失落或欢欣都是因为自己？卡罗尔濒临崩溃的谈判过后约特瑞斯一起吃饭，这时的特瑞斯已经是某著名杂志的摄影师，小文青实现了自己的梦想。卡罗尔说，“我觉得你长大了，现在变得特别好”，停顿一秒问，“是因为离开我吗？”
看到这里我忍不住笑，天呐，为什么人们总是心知肚明却还是想要听别人亲口承认。
然而特瑞斯跟我预想的一样，急切又坚定的回答，NO.我又忍不住笑出来，女人之间的较量总是这样，看似不着边际，却又毫厘不差的暗自博弈。你当初狠心的离开了，那要我怎样？我只能兀自成长，我不是自愿的，我也想有你时刻在旁为我安抚保我周全，可是是你逼我要自己长大的，你说release，如今你又跑来问我，是不是因为你？
不，我偏不让你得逞，我就不承认一切都是因为你，痛苦因为你欢愉因为你颓废因为你成长因为你变好因为你，尽管一切与你有关，如今我却不想再轻易交出自己。“难道 这次抱紧就不会落空？”
而且我这次不仅不想承认是因为你，我还要拒绝你。即使你表达说，“我离婚了，孩子归丈夫，我在美国最贵房价的地方有一套大房子，你愿意搬来跟我一起住吗？Would you?”停顿五秒，”I love you”.（这样的表白，哪个妹子不脱光了跟她走...）
“No,I don’t think so”.特瑞斯学会了拒绝她。
我想，卡罗尔内心当时也是崩溃的，“我自己养成的花竟然在我不在的日子学会了拒绝我，让我冷静冷静”。但是，御姐总是有这样的本事，她深知特瑞斯的拒绝不是因为不爱她，而是小姑娘长大了，有自己的骄傲了，她不愿被呼之则来挥之即去，她想要平等的交往。
于是，她退一步。她吃定了特瑞斯心里有她。

15.我知道你在等我，所以我去寻你
这场电影规避了尽可能的人，只留下几个必须出现的角色，这就太考验演员的演技功力了。而鲁尼在这部影片中，丝毫不逊色于凯特，甚至在我心中，鲁尼更为真实出色那么一些（她演完真的不会弯吗...）尤其是最后几慕戏中，鲁尼的表现惊为天人。
卡罗尔在用餐时与她的对视，鲁尼复杂的眼神，因为深呼吸引起前胸轻微的起伏，欲拒还迎，欲迎还拒的拿捏，倔强又骄傲。（大魔王竟然忍住没有强吻上去...）
最后一幕，特瑞斯穿过人群眼光寻找着卡罗尔，当她发现卡罗尔坐在被环绕的桌子后面时，特瑞斯眼神中是闪过那么几秒犹豫的，她停下来，也许是在回想过去，也许是在担心未来，可是也只有那么几秒，她还是义无反顾的走向了卡罗尔，走向了自己的命运。
而看到她的卡罗尔，并未显得多么惊讶，而是望向她，笑的意味深长。
“我知道你会来，所以我等”
“我知道你在等我，所以我去寻你”
没有谁更技高一筹，也没有谁更毅然笃定。

16.所谓视角转换
从电影一开始，卡罗尔就是处于被仰视的角度，主动权一直握在她手里；而特瑞斯就是个孩子，对她充满了仰慕和崇拜，被动的接受着。她们之间是不平等的。不仅是阶级身份地位，更多的是精神上的差距。
但这些差距在慢慢被化解。
特瑞斯的拒绝、穿着、工作、思想，无一不显示了这些差距的缩小，小姑娘也有长大的时候，这种平等，是两个人接下来交往的前提，卡罗尔是先知的，所以她在离开的时候信中才写“当那天到来时，我希望你能想象我会在那里，迎接你，我们的生命将在那里交汇，如同永恒的日出。但是在那之前，我们之间不能有任何联系，我需要做很多的事情，而你，我亲爱的，你需要做的更多...而我唯一能做的就是放手让你走”。
很多人看到这里会说卡罗尔渣，可是，这正是一个成熟女人深思熟虑后的决定，她在逼迫特瑞斯长大。而特瑞斯做到了。

17.两次凝望
第一次是卡罗尔坐在车里，望着走在街上的特瑞斯，想喊住她又不能，只有看她消失在自己的视野之中还没有回过头。凯特完美的在无声之中表现出卡罗尔内心的纠结与不忍，但又必须克制自己冲动的感情。第二次是特瑞斯拒绝卡罗尔后，她坐在朋友的车里，看着卡罗尔走在街上，“你看，我终于学会了拒绝你，可是为什么会这么难过？你在想什么？也会这样难过吗？”

其实，这部电影很像御姐一手将小朋友调教好的养成记。所谓御姐，并不只是有钱有颜，最重要的是她们思想独立，有自己站立在这个世界的坐标系和判断事物价值的独特方式，她们还聪明，恰到好处的世故和足够多的安全感，跟她们在一起会感到舒服。有人说，跟年纪大的人相处，像是在挖掘一座宝藏，每天都有新的惊喜，总有很多你不知道的事；跟年纪小的人相处，像种花，可以看到她们每一天的变化。卡罗尔跟特瑞斯就是这样的搭配，真是令人欢喜。
还有，这是一部每一帧都令人想落泪的电影，可是它又克制到让你觉得眼泪似乎不是那么优雅，而我，真的被这种让人哭不出来的浪漫给深深打动。

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可能几百年不说话，也可能话痨。[/img]

看过Carol两周了，我依然会想，女人间的恋情果真都像电影里那样美吗？一定不是的。《穆赫兰道》里的恋情有许多是痛苦。Blue is the warmest colour的恋情也许是美的，但更多的大概是毁灭性？其实我并没有看过Blue is the warmest colour，虽然我爱Lea Seydoux。

所以Carol是我看过的第一部描绘女性间恋情的电影。个人感觉Carol似乎是好莱坞大银幕上第一部以正面笔触认真描绘女性间恋情的电影，在这一点上，它具有不可忽略的历史地位。

纵然它的历史地位已不可超越，要命的是它还拍得这么美。Carol是我今年看过的最好的电影。它的美令我落泪令我震颤。

然而我并没有经历过女人间的爱情，凭什么被打动至此呢？对此我们只能说，爱情就是爱情，无论当事人是谁。爱情永远有令人心颤的力量。

我爱Todd Haynes勾画的那个50年代的世界，也是冬天，也是临近圣诞节（studio把上映档期安排得多巧妙），百货商店里的灯光闪耀着，Terese站在柜台后面，戴着圣诞老人的红帽子，沉静却似乎带着几分哀愁。我们随着她的目光看去，Carol立在玩具火车边。那是一见钟情吗？后来我一直在想。想象中怦然心动的爱情似乎就是这样子的。

两位女演员都太出色了，而我爱此片中的Rooney Mara胜于Cate Blanchett。Terese是个让人猜不透的令人着迷的姑娘。她冷静，自知，似乎在安然地等待，然而内心一定是澎湃如火山般的。Terese应该是个涉世未深的姑娘，但她的涉世未深也是让人琢磨的。She is her own person。她初次去Carol家里作客，却默默地在厨房里准备茶点，她简约的话语背后全是对Carol安静的依恋。她为什么爱她？回头想想Cate Blanchett的Carol。我最爱她的波澜不惊，她的经验和从容，还有她似乎潜在的疯狂（看到结尾发现其实并没有）。她的生活正驶向最莫测的未来：离婚，失去对女儿的抚养权，然而她永远举止优雅，妆容精致。似乎她已见过人性和生活中最艰深的角落，然而这些不足以击倒她，却成为她魅力的一部分。她开车来接Terese，对前来送行的Richard说，“Terese对你评价很高”。傻小子听罢只管高兴去了（你爱的姑娘就和女士谈恋爱去了哟呵呵）。更让人难忘的是电影开头（即临近结尾）餐厅的那一幕，一位Terese的熟人冒失地破坏了两人最珍贵的一刻，而且见鬼了，这熟人又是位傻小子。Carol温婉地笑着和傻小子问好，从容地起身告辞，临别时在Terese肩上一按。然而我们看见Terese的神情，便知道这肩上的一按非同寻常。Terese在颤抖呢，心中全是排山倒海的感情。

本片的叙事是实实在在的，自然，举重若轻。那些安安静静的试探承载了多少暗底下的波涛汹涌呵，这便是导演和演员的功力。她们的相互吸引是那样明显，让人感到空气简直要被电穿了，所以当Terese毫无犹豫地答应与Carol一起离开纽约，我们作为观众只感到欢欣鼓舞。还有那个关键的新年前夜，Terese轻声低吟说“take me to bed”，我觉得这真是近年来好莱坞银幕上最性感的时刻，比James Bond出场的相似场面性感一千倍。

除了对两人的感情描绘，本片还有三点值得一提。其一，它对生活和人的复杂性没有遮掩，而全是亮给我们看。Carol是复杂的，Terese是复杂的，其他人物如Carol的丈夫，Carol之前的恋人，追Terese的男孩子们（Richard，在《纽约时报》办公室里吻她的男生）各个立体可信。其二，复杂的女性成了电影的真正主角。我们看到的是她们的心理和行为如何推动故事的进展。她们的形象是鲜活丰满的。而相对的，男性角色在本片中全是陪衬，不但是陪衬，而且甚至是和女性角色对立的，给女性们设置障碍的绊脚石：Carol的丈夫和Terese的追求者Richard自不用提，长相creepy的私家侦探面目可憎，尤其在餐厅里高声叫Terese打断二人会面的男人，观众一定觉得他可恨极了。我猜这大概反应出原作者Patricia Highsmith对男性的态度（她也是女同性恋），而且也反映出50年代男女的社会地位差异。试想：如果Terese的男性熟人朋友看到Terese在餐厅里与一位男士共进晚餐，他敢不敢冒失地高声叫她的名字？当然不敢。第三，本片把浪漫和悬疑的气氛揉合得极好。悬疑主要来自我们对Carol会做出的行为的猜测。她看上去似乎像是会做出疯狂事情的女子，然而看到最后我们发现并没有。我猜这也是原作者的功劳，The Talented Mr Ripley有同样的氛围。而Carol会给我们这样的联想大概和Cate Blanchett在Blue Jasmine中的表演有关。

最后不得不说，音乐真好极了。原声配乐是Carter Burwell的杰作。音乐主题由钢琴引出，带着不安和寻觅，随后加入单簧管，孤寂，憧憬和欲望揉合进来，到后来，旋律稍稍奔放起来，美得令人感动。女性的爱情也应该这样绽放。此外配乐里用了大量50年代的名曲，crooners的轻歌曼舞，为电影氛围增色许多。本片的音乐总监是Randall Poster，从Rushmore到Grand Budapest Hotel的Wes Anderson电影音乐都是他帮着选的。我真想知道他的record collection是啥样。

等不到电影，只好先拿小说来解渴。

原著是以作者Patricia Highsmith自己的故事为原型的，她在快30岁时，在纽约Bloomingdale's百货公司的玩具区遇见了一位已婚妇女，并爱上了她。

原著虽是第三人称，但基本是以Therese的视角写的，内心描写很丰富，用词很美，不算艰涩，读起来很流畅，很抓人，不忍释卷。
读的过程中不断带入Cate和Rooney，因此十分有画面感，完全被带入到故事之中，许多描写太细腻，太真实，跟着Therese一起忐忑，也跟着她一起迷醉在Carol的冷漠与温情之间，这些文字，慢慢地在我脑海中拍成电影。

原著中Therese是一个stage designer，但在改编剧本中变成了一个photographer，其实我觉得这样反而更易于表达她作为Carol的暗恋者的角度。
Rooney和Cate绝对是Therese和Carol的不二人选，这点你看了小说就会明白这次的选角有多么完美。

书我还在读，读了大半了，书摘会陆续更，每晚都又期待故事，又不忍读完它，到了该睡的时间还是不情愿放下，不断安慰自己说“好东西值得等待”，才心不甘情不愿地关灯睡下。

即使读原著知道故事的始末，依然不会“剧透”电影，因为我真正期待的不只是故事本身，而是Rooney和Cate的演绎，服装，场景，Todd Haynes怎么营造1950s纽约的复古模样，以及代入感十足的黑胶唱片老歌，而这些都是文字之外的全新创造。

总之，北美上映都要到12月18，有资源的时候估计已经是2016了，只能先来感受原著了。

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附上非官方的原声，听吧，你会沉醉的。
http://pan.baidu.com/s/1bnfMneB
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以下为书摘，按阅读先后顺序

"How do you like it pronounced? Therese?"
"Yes. The way you do," she answered. Carol pronounced her name the French way, Terez. She was used to a dozen variations, and sometimes she herself pronounced it differently. She liked the way Carol pronounced it, and she liked her lips saying it. An indefinite longing, that she had been only vaguely conscious of at times before, became now a recognizable wish. It was so absurd, so embarrassing a desire, that
Therese thrust it from her mind.
----

Therese was propped on one elbow. The milk was so hot, she could barely let her lip touch it at first. The tiny sips spread inside her mouth and released a melange of organic flavors. The milk seemed to taste of bone and blood, of warm flesh, or hair, saltless as chalk yet alive as a growing embryo.
----

"There's a train in about four minutes," Carol said.
 Therese blurted suddenly, "Will I see you again?"
 Carol only smiled at her, a little reproachfully, as the window between them rose up. "Au revoir," she said.
 Of course, of course, she would see her again, Therese thought. An idiotic question!
 The car backed fast and turned away into the darkness.
----

But there was not a moment when she did not see Carol in her mind, and all she saw, she seemed to see through Carol. That evening, the dark flat streets of New York, the tomorrow of work, the milk bottle dropped and broken in her sink, became unimportant. She flung herself on her-bed and drew a line with a pencil on a piece of paper. And another line, carefully, and another. A world was born around her, like a bright forest with a million shimmering leaves.
----

They stopped for a red light, and Carol rolled the window up. Carol looked at her, as if really seeing her for the first time that evening, and under her eyes that went from her face to her hands in her lap, Therese felt like a puppy Carol had bought at a roadside kennel, that Carol had just remembered was riding beside her.
----

Happiness was a little like flying, she thought, like being a kite. It depended on how much one let the string out.
----

       "Are you busy? If you are, I'll leave."
       "No. Sit down. I'm not doing anything—except reading a play."
       "What play?"
       "A play I have to do sets for." She realized suddenly she had never mentioned stage designing to Carol.
       "Sets for?"
       "Yes—I'm a stage designer." She took Carol's coat.
       Carol smiled astonishedly. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?" she asked quietly. "How many other rabbits are you going to pull out of your hat?"
----

And perhaps she was in love with Carol, too. It put Therese on guard with her. It created a tacit rivalry that gave her a curious exhilaration, a sense of certain superiority over Abby—emotions that Therese had never known before, never dared to dream of, emotions consequently revolutionary in themselves. So their lunching together in the restaurant became nearly as important as the meeting with Carol.

------
• Carol glanced at her. "You imagine," she said, and the pleasant vibration of her voice faded into silence again.
The page she had written last night, Therese thought, had nothing to do with this Carol, was not addressed to her. I feel I am in love with you, she had written, and it should be spring. I want the sun throbbing on my head like chords of music. I think of a sun like Beethoven, a wind like Debussy, and birdcalls like Stravinsky. But the tempo is all mine.
• As if she wouldn't turn down a job on a ballet set to go away with Carol—to go with her through country she had
never seen before, over rivers and mountains, not knowing where they would be when night came.
• Behind Carol, an airport searchlight made a pale sweep in the night, and disappeared. Carol's voice seemed to
linger in the darkness. In its richer, happier tone, Therese could hear the depths within her where she loved Rindy, deeper than she would probably ever love anyone else.
• It shook Therese in the profoundest part of her where no words were, no easy words like death or dying or killing. Those words were somehow future, and this was present. An inarticulate anxiety, a desire to know, know anything, for certain, had jammed itself in her throat so for a moment she felt she could hardly breathe. Do you think, do you think, it began. Do you think both of us will die violently someday, be suddenly shut off? But even that question wasn't definite
enough. Perhaps it was a statement after all: I don't want to die yet without knowing you. Do you feel the same way, Carol? She could have uttered the last question, but she could not have said all that went before it.
• "I suppose the first thing is not to be afraid." Therese turned and saw Carol's smile. "You're smiling because you think I am afraid, I suppose."
 "You're about as weak as this
match." Carol held it burning for a moment after she lighted her cigarette. "But given the right conditions, you could burn a house down, couldn't you?"
 "Or a city."
 "But you're even afraid to take a little trip with me. You're afraid because you think you haven't got enough money."
 "That's not it."
 "You've got some very strange values, Therese. I asked you to go with me, because it would give me pleasure to have you. I should think it'd be good for
you, too, and good for your work. But you've got to spoil it by a silly pride about money. Like that handbag you gave me. Out of all proportion. Why don't you take it back, if you need the money? I don't need the handbag. It gave you pleasure to give it to me, I suppose. It's the same thing, you see. Only I make sense and you don't." Carol walked by her and turned to her again, poised with one foot forward and her head up, the short blond hair as unobtrusive as a statue's hair. "Well, do you think it's funny?"
• Carol went into the green room, and stayed there while it played. Therese stood by the door of her room, listening, smiling.
 ... I'll never regret... the years I'm giving... They're easy to give, when you're in love... I'm happy to do whatever I do for you...
 That was her song. That was everything she felt about Carol.
• Was life, were human relations like this always, Therese wondered. Never solid ground underfoot. Always like gravel, a little yielding, noisy so the whole world could hear, so one always listened, too, for the loud, harsh step of the intruder's foot.
• Therese still felt the effects of what she had drunk, the tingling of the champagne that drew her painfully close to Carol. If she simply asked, she thought, Carol would let her sleep tonight in the same bed with her. She wanted more than that, to kiss her, to feel their bodies next to each other's. Therese thought of the two girls she had seen in the Palermo bar. They did that, she knew, and more. And would Carol suddenly thrust her away in disgust, if she merely wanted to hold her in her arms? And would whatever affection Carol now had for her vanish in that instant? A vision of Carol's cold rebuff swept her courage clean away. It crept back humbly in the question, couldn't she ask simply to sleep in the same bed with her?
• She rode up in an elevator and she was acutely conscious of Carol beside her, as if she dreamed a dream in which Carol was the subject and the only figure. In the room, she lifted her suitcase from the floor to a chair, unlatched it and left it, and stood by the writing table, watching Carol. As if her emotions had been in abeyance all the past hours, or days, they flooded her now as she watched Carol opening her suitcase, taking out, as she always did first, the leather kit that contained her toilet articles, dropping it onto the bed. She looked at Carol's hands, at the lock of hair that fell over the scarf tied around her head, at the scratch she had gotten days ago across the toe of her moccasin.
 "What're you standing there for?" Carol asked. "Get to bed, sleepyhead."
 "Carol, I love you."
 Carol straightened up. Therese stared at her with intense, sleepy eyes.
• Then Carol finished taking her pajamas from the suitcase and pulled the lid down. She came to Therese and put her hands on her shoulders. She squeezed her shoulders hard, as if she were exacting a promise from her, or perhaps searching her to see if what she had said were real. Then she kissed Therese on the lips, as if they had kissed a thousand times before.
 "Don't you know I love you?" Carol said.
• Then Therese set the container of milk on the floor and looked at Carol who was sleeping already, on her stomach, with one arm flung up as she always went to sleep. Therese pulled out the light. Then Carol slipped her arm under her neck, and all the length of their bodies touched, fitting as if something had prearranged it. Happiness was like a green vine spreading through her, stretching fine tendrils, bearing flowers through her flesh. She had a vision of a pale-white flower, shimmering as if seen in darkness, or through water. Why did people talk of heaven, she wondered.
• "Go to sleep," Carol said.
 Therese hoped she would not. But when she felt Carol's hand move on her shoulder, she knew she had been asleep. It was dawn now. Carol's fingers tightened in her hair, Carol kissed her on the lips, and pleasure leaped in Therese again as if it were only a continuation of the moment when Carol had slipped her arm under her neck last night. I love you, Therese wanted to say again, and then the words were erased by the tingling and terrifying pleasure that spread in waves from Carol's lips over her neck, her shoulders, that rushed suddenly, the length of her body. Her arms were tight around Carol, and she was conscious of Carol and
nothing else, of Carol's hand that slid along her ribs, Carol's hair that brushed her bare breasts, and then her body too seemed to vanish in widening circles that leaped further and further, beyond where thought could follow. While a thousand memories and moments, words, the first darling, the second time Carol had met her at the store, a thousand memories of Carol's face, her voice, moments of anger and laughter flashed like the tail of a comet across her brain. And now it was pale-blue distance and space, an expanding space in which she took flight suddenly like a long arrow. The arrow seemed to cross an impossibly wide abyss with ease, seemed to arc on and on in space, and not quite to stop. Then she realized that she still clung to Carol, that she trembled violently, and the arrow was herself. She saw Carol's pale hair across her eyes, and now Carol's head was close against hers. And she did not have to ask if this were right, no one had to tell her, because this could not have been more right or perfect.
• "Go to sleep," Carol said.
 Therese hoped she would not. But when she felt Carol's hand move on her shoulder, she knew she had been asleep. It was dawn now. Carol's fingers tightened in her hair, Carol kissed her on the lips, and pleasure leaped in Therese again as if it were only a continuation of the moment when Carol had slipped her arm under her neck last night. I love you, Therese wanted to say again, and then the words were erased by the tingling and terrifying pleasure that spread in waves from Carol's lips over her neck, her shoulders, that rushed suddenly, the length of her body. Her arms were tight around Carol, and she was conscious of Carol and nothing else, of Carol's hand that slid along her ribs, Carol's hair that brushed her bare breasts, and then her body too seemed to vanish in widening circles that leaped further and further, beyond where thought could follow. While a thousand memories and moments, words, the first darling, the second time Carol had met her at the store, a thousand memories of Carol's face, her voice, moments of anger and laughter flashed like the tail of a comet across her brain. And now it was pale-blue distance and space, an expanding space in which she took flight suddenly like a long arrow. The arrow seemed to cross an impossibly wide abyss with ease, seemed to arc on and on in space, and not quite to stop. Then she realized that she still clung to Carol, that she trembled violently, and the arrow was herself. She saw Carol's pale hair across her eyes, and now Carol's head was close against hers. And she did not have to ask if this were right, no one had to tell her, because this could not have been more right or perfect. She held Carol tighter against her, and felt Carol's mouth on her own smiling mouth. Therese lay still, looking at her at Carol's face only inches away from her, the gray eyes calm as she had never seen them, as if they retained some of the space she had just emerged from. And it seemed strange that it was still Carol's face, with the freckles, the bending blond eyebrow that she knew, the mouth now as calm as her eyes, as Therese had seen it many times before.
• "My angel," Carol said. "Flung out of space."
 Therese looked up at the corners of the room that were much brighter now, at the bureau with the bulging front and the shield-shaped drawer pulls, at the frameless mirror with the beveled edge, at the green patterned curtains that hung straight at the windows, and the two gray tips of buildings that showed just above the sill. She would remember every detail of this room forever.
 "What town is this?" she asked.
 Carol laughed. "This? This is Waterloo." She reached for a cigarette.
 "Isn't that awful."
 Smiling, Therese raised up on her elbow. Carol put a cigarette between her lips. "There's a couple of Waterloos in every state," Therese said.
• Therese threw the newspapers on the bed and came to her. Carol seized her suddenly in her arms. They stood holding each other as if they would never separate. Therese shuddered, and there were tears in her eyes. It was hard to find words, locked in Carol's arms, closer than kissing.
 "Why did you wait so long?" Therese asked.
 "Because—I thought there wouldn't be a second time, that I wouldn't want it. But that's not true."
 Therese thought of Abby, and it was like a slim shaft of bitterness dropping between them. Carol released her.
 "And there was something else—to have you around reminding me, knowing you and knowing it would be so easy. I'm sorry. It wasn't fair to you."
 Therese set her teeth hard. She watched Carol walk slowly away across the room, watched the space widen, and remembered the first time she had seen her walk so slowly away in the department store, Therese had thought forever. Carol had loved Abby, too, and she reproached herself for it. As Carol would one day for loving her, Therese wondered? Therese understood now why the December and January weeks had been made up of anger and indecision, reprimands alternating with indulgences. But she understood now that whatever Carol said in words, there were no barriers and no indecisions now. There was no Abby, either, after this morning, whatever had happened between Carol and Abby before.
• "You've made me so happy ever since I've known you,"
Therese said.
 "I don't think you can judge."
 "I can judge this morning."
 Carol did not answer. Only the rasp of the door lock answered her. Carol had locked the door and they were alone. Therese came toward her, straight into her arms.
 "I love you," Therese said, just to hear the words. "I love you, I love you."
• She looked at Therese, and at last Therese saw a smile rising slowly in her eyes, bringing Carol with it. "I
mean responsibilities in the world that other people live in and that might not be yours. Just now it isn't, and that's why in New York I was exactly the wrong person for you to know—because I indulge you and keep you from growing up."
 "Why don't you stop?"
 "I'll try. The trouble is, I like to indulge you."
 "You're exactly the right person for me to know," Therese said.
 "Am I?"
 On the street, Therese said, "I don't suppose Harge would like it if he knew we were away on a trip, either, would he?"
 "He's not going to know about it."
 "Do you still want to go to Washington?"
 "Absolutely, if you've got the time. Can you stay away all of February?"
 Therese nodded.
• "Do you mean that about not writing to him? That's your decision?" Carol asked.
• "Yes."
 Therese watched Carol knock the water out of her toothbrush, and turn from the basin, blotting her face with a towel. Nothing about Richard mattered so much to her as the way Carol blotted her face with a towel.
 "Let's say no more," Carol said.
 She knew Carol would say no more. She knew Carol had been pushing her toward him, until this moment. Now it seemed it might all have been for this moment as Carol turned and walked toward her and her heart took a giant's step forward.
• It was an evening Therese would never forget, and unlike most such evenings, this one registered as unforgettable while it still lived. It was a matter of the bag of popcorn they shared, the circus, and the kiss Carol gave her back of some booth in the performers' tent. It was a matter of that particular enchantment that came from Carol—though Carol took their good times so for granted—seemed to work on all the world around them, a matter of everything going perfectly, without disappointments or hitches, going just as they wished it to.
• "What's going to happen when we get back to New York? It can't be the same, can it?"
 "Yes," Carol said. "Till you get tired of me."
 Therese laughed. She heard the soft snap of Carol's scarf end in the wind.
 "We might not be living together, but it'll be the same."
 They couldn't live together with Rindy, Therese knew. It was useless to dream of it. But it was more than enough that Carol promised in words it would be the same.
• Carol picked up her wine glass and said, "Chateau Neuf-du-Pape in Nebraska. What'll we drink to?"
 "Us."
 It was something like the morning in Waterloo, Therese thought, a time too absolute and flawless to seem real, though it was real, not merely props in a play—their brandy glasses on the mantel, the row of deers' horns above, Carol's cigarette lighter, the fire itself. But at moments she felt like an actor, remembered only now and then her identity with a sense of surprise, as if she had been playing in these last days the part of someone else, someone
fabulously and excessively lucky. She looked up at the fir branches fixed in the rafters, at the man and woman talking inaudibly together at a table against the wall, at the man alone at his table, smoking his cigarette slowly. She thought of the man sitting with the newspaper in the hotel in Waterloo. Didn't he have the same colorless eyes and the long creases on either side of his mouth? Or was it only that this moment of consciousness was so much the same as that other moment?
 They spent the night in Lusk, ninety miles away.
• Carol wanted her with her, and whatever happened they would meet it without running. How was it possible to be afraid and in love, Therese thought. The two things did not go together.
How was it possible to be afraid, when the two of them grew stronger together every day? And every night. Every night was different, and every morning. Together they possessed a miracle.
• But there were other days when they drove out into the mountains alone, taking any road they saw. Once they came upon a little town they liked and spent the night there, without pajamas or toothbrushes, without past or future, and the night became another of those islands in time, suspended somewhere in the heart or in the memory, intact and absolute.
• Carol went into the bathroom arid turned on the shower.
 Therese came in after her. "I thought I was using this John."
 "I'm using it, but I'll let you come in."
 "Oh, thanks." Therese took off her robe as Carol did.
 "Well?" Carol said.
 "Well?" Therese stepped under the shower.
 "Of all the nerve." Carol got under it, too, and twisted Therese's arm behind her, but Therese only giggled.
 Therese wanted to embrace her, kiss her, but her free arm reached out convulsively and dragged Carol's head
against her, under the stream of water, and there was the horrible sound of a foot slipping.
 "Stop it, we'll fall!" Carol shouted. "For Christ's sake, can't two people take a shower in peace?"
• Carol wanted to know everything she had done, how the roads were, and whether she had on the yellow pajamas or the blue ones. "I'll have a hard time getting to sleep tonight without you."
 "Yes." Immediately, out of nowhere, Therese felt tears pressing behind her eyes.
 "Can't you say anything but yes?"
 "I love you.
• "Carol does?" Dutch said, turning to her as he polished a lass.
 Then a strange resentment rose in Therese because he had said her name, and she made a resolution not to speak of Carol again at all, not to anyone in the city.
• She wrote to Carol late that night.
 The news is wonderful. I celebrated with a single daiquiri at the Warrior. Not that I am conservative, but did you know that one drink has the kick of three when you are alone?... I love this town because it all reminds me of you. I know you don't like it any more than any other town, but that isn't the point. I mean you are here as much as I can bear you to be, not being here...
• In the library, she looked at books with photographs of Europe in
them, marble fountains in Sicily, ruins of Greece in sunlight, and she wondered if she and Carol would really ever go there. There was still so much they had not done. There was the first voyage across the Atlantic. There were simply the mornings, mornings anywhere, when she could lift her head from a pillow and see Carol's face, and know that the day was theirs and that nothing would separate them.
• They were happy weeks—you knew it more than I did. Though all we have known is only a beginning. I meant to try to tell you in this letter that you don't even know the rest and perhaps you never will and are not supposed to—meaning destined to. We never fought, never came back knowing there was nothing else we wanted in heaven or hell but to be together. Did you ever care for me that much, I don't know. But that is all part of it and all we have known is only a beginning. And it has been such a short time.
• You say you love me however I am and when I curse. I say I love you always, the person you are and the person you will become. I would say it in a court if it would mean anything to those people or possibly change anything, because those are not the words I am afraid of.
• And she remembered Carol saying, I like to see you walking. When I see you from a distance, I feel you're walking on the palm of my hand and you're about five inches high. She could hear Carol's soft voice under the babble of the wind, and she grew tense, with bitterness and fear. She walked faster, ran a few steps, as if she could run out of that morass of love and hate and resentment in which her mind suddenly floundered.
• Something Carol had said once came suddenly to her mind: every adult has secrets. Said as casually as Carol said everything, stamped as indelibly in her brain as the address she had written on the sales slip in Frankenberg's. She had an impulse to tell Dannie the rest, about the picture in the library, the picture in
the school. And about the Carol who was not a picture, but a woman with a child and a husband, with freckles on her hands and a habit of cursing, of growing melancholy at unexpected moments, with a bad habit of indulging her will. A woman who had endured much more in New York than she had in South Dakota. She looked at Dannie's eyes, at his chin with the faint cleft. She knew that up to now she had been under a spell that prevented her from seeing anyone in the world but Carol.
• Once that had been impossible, and had been what she wanted most in the world. To live with her and share everything with her, summer and winter, to walk and read together, to travel together. And she remembered the days of resenting Carol, when she had imagined Carol asking her this, and herself answering no.
 "Would you?" Carol looked at her.
 Therese felt she balanced on a thin edge. The resentment was gone now.
 Nothing but the decision remained now, a thin line suspended in the air, with nothing on either side to push her or pull her. But on the one side, Carol, and on the other an empty question mark. On the one side, Carol, and it would be different now, because they were both different. It would be a world as unknown as the world just past had been when she first entered it. Only now, there were no obstacles. Therese thought of Carol's perfume that today meant nothing. A blank to be filled in, Carol would say.
• The lights were not bright, and she did not see her at first, half hidden in the shadow against the far wall, facing her. Nor did Carol see her. A man sat opposite her, Therese did not know who. Carol raised her hand slowly and brushed her hair back, once on either side, and Therese smiled because the gesture was Carol, and it was Carol she loved and would always love. Oh, in a different way now, because she was a different person, and it was like meeting Carol all over again, but it was still Carol and no one else. It would be Carol, in a thousand cities, a thousand houses, in foreign lands where they would go together, in heaven and in hell. Therese waited. Then as she was
about to go to her Carol saw her, seemed to stare at her incredulously a moment while Therese watched the slow smile growing, before her arm lifted suddenly, her hand waved a quick, eager greeting that Therese had never seen before. Therese walked toward her.
 
The End



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