Interviewing Matisse, or The Woman Who Died Standing Up: A Novel

Interviewing Matisse, or The Woman Who Died Standing Up: A Novel

Lily Tuck

Language: English

Pages: 148

ISBN: 0060832843

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Interviewing Matisse, or The Woman Who Died Standing Up: A Novel

Lily Tuck

Language: English

Pages: 148

ISBN: 0060832843

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Lily, Molly, and Inez are women of a certain age, of a certain bearing, of a certain class. Late one dire night, Molly telephones from Connecticut to catch Lily up with the news: Inez's corpse -- near-naked but wearing boots -- has been discovered propped up "like a broom" in a corner of her Soho loft. It is an occasion ripe for an all-night heart-to-heart conversation, bouncing deliriously from one evasion to the next -- until the pair of talk-crazy, talk-weary women have successfully diverted themselves with all the wonderfully vagrant stuff of life . . . with everything, in fact, except grief.

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never forget, was such a gentleman—this was before I had had my hair cut, Lily—Matisse was so complimentary. Matisse, too, kept right on painting from his wheelchair until the very end, Lily. Degas, too, was almost blind. So was Monet. Musicians maybe go deaf—oh, Claude-Marie, Lily. Either Claude-Marie is losing his hearing or Claude-Marie does not listen—like the parking, Lily. I told Claude-Marie: Don’t forget, unless you want to get a ticket. Oh, I almost forgot—forgot, Lily, what I started to

remember is that it must have been at a quarter past something. I was born at home, and the whole time, my mother said, she could hear the grandfather clock in the hallway. The grandfather clock chimed every quarter of an hour and made her crazy. The clock, too, was always slow, Lily. The clock lost several minutes a day, and a man from Switzerland came up all the way from Richmond to try to fix it. I will never forget this either—perhaps you are right and I do attract perverts—the man exposed

favor and say naked, but what was I saying? Oh—Kevin’s Texas accent.” Molly said, “I told you what Claude-Marie said on the phone, didn’t I? Claude-Marie said Kevin’s clothes were all in the garbage. His T-shirts, his dress shirt with French cuffs, and his toilet kit with everything in it—the electric razor, the toothbrush, the condoms—and Fiddle, I told you, wore gloves, only thank God, Claude-Marie said, Price did not throw out the tuxedo. The tuxedo, Claude-Marie said, was somebody else’s

favor and say naked, but what was I saying? Oh—Kevin’s Texas accent.” Molly said, “I told you what Claude-Marie said on the phone, didn’t I? Claude-Marie said Kevin’s clothes were all in the garbage. His T-shirts, his dress shirt with French cuffs, and his toilet kit with everything in it—the electric razor, the toothbrush, the condoms—and Fiddle, I told you, wore gloves, only thank God, Claude-Marie said, Price did not throw out the tuxedo. The tuxedo, Claude-Marie said, was somebody else’s

what I told Leonard: Leonard, I said, you have no idea how I want to go back to Paris, how I want to go back up the Eiffel Tower, how I want to visit those museums.” Molly said, “I told Claude-Marie the same thing, Lily. I told Claude-Marie don’t fly Air India.” I said, “Air India—ha, ha. Yuri and the lobsters—I know I will never forget this story, Molly.” Molly said, “Only you can’t always believe what Nora says—Nora may have made up the lobster part—just like you can’t believe what Nora said

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