Riccardo Molteni, an impoverished cinema critic, becomes a scriptwriter to ensure a little well-being for his wife Emilia, whom he loves, and who adores him in return. But suddenly, after two years of a happy lovelife, she spurns him, gradually becoming cold and indifferent. Emilia doesn’t explain the change in her behaviour but stays enveloped in silence, convinced deep down that the words they might exchange would be banal and useless. It is not so much the occaisionally successful, attentions of the film producer Battista that split the couple as her growing distaste for Riccardo, whose basic weakness of character she has come to understand. Emilia’s defection is intolerable for her husband who continues to hope for reconciliation, a fantasy not extinguished even by Emilia’s death. Riccardo continues to dream of her, to try and interpret her behaviour and understand her.


This book, an ironic look at the world of cinema and a biting satire on all psychoanalytical pedantry, concludes the Moravian parable of ‘conjugal love’. It was made into an powerful film, Le Mépris, by Jean-Luc Godard, in the 1960s.

‘I noticed that she turned her face aside, as if to hide it. But she allowed me to hold her arm; and when I came close to her, so that my side was touching hers, she did not draw back. Then I grew bolder and put my arm around her waist. At last she turned, and I saw that her whole face was wet with tears. «I shall never forgive you,» she cried: «never shall I forgive you for having ruined our love. I loved you so much, and I’d never loved anyone but you... and I shall never love anyone else... and you’ve ruined everything because of your character... We might have been so happy together... and instead of that, it’s all quite impossible now. How can I possibly take things for granted? How can I possibly not dislike you?»’ p218