interest to her。
She said； You're too kind； really； but I'd rather stay at home。 I don't need a job。
The woman said； But will you be fulfilled sitting at home？
Tereza said； More fulfilled than by taking pictures of cactuses。
The woman said； Even if you take pictures of cactuses； you're leading your life。 If you live only for your husband； you have no life of your own。
All of a sudden Tereza felt annoyed： My husband is my life； not cactuses。
The woman photographer responded in kind： You mean you think of yourself as happy？
Tereza； still annoyed； said； Of course I'm happy！
The woman said； The only kind of woman who can say that is very 。。。 She stopped short。
Tereza finished it for her： 。。。 limited。 That's what you mean； isn't it？
The woman regained control of herself and said； Not limited。 Anachronistic。
You're right； said Tereza wistfully。 That's just what my husband says about me。
26
But Tomas spent days on end at the hospital； and she was at home alone。 At least she had Karenin and could take him on long walks！ Home again； she would pore over her German and French grammars。 But she felt sad and had trouble concentrating。 She kept coming back to the speech Dubcek had given over the radio after his return from Moscow。 Although she had completely forgotten what he said； she could still hear his quavering voice。 She thought about how foreign soldiers had arrested him； the head of an independent state； in his own country； held him for four days somewhere in the Ukrainian mountains； informed him he was to be executed—as； a decade before； they had executed his Hungarian counterpart Imre Nagy—then packed him off to Moscow； ordered him to have a bath and shave； to change his clothes and put on a tie； apprised him of the decision to commute his execution； instructed him to consider himself head of state once more； sat him at a table opposite Brezhnev； and forced him to act。
He returned； humiliated； to address his humiliated nation。 He was so humiliated he could not even speak。 Tereza would never forget those awful pauses in the middle of his sentences。 Was he that exhausted？ 111？ Had they drugged him？ Or was it only despair？ If nothing was to remain of Dubcek； then at least those awful long pauses when he seemed unable to breathe； when he gasped for air before a whole nation glued to its radios； at least those pauses would remain。 Those pauses contained all the horror that had befallen their country。
It was the seventh day of the invasion。 She heard the speech in the editorial offices of a newspaper that had been transformed overnight into an organ of the resistance。 Everyone present hated Dubcek at that moment。 They reproached him for compromising； they felt humiliated by his humiliation； his weakness offended them。
Thinking in Zurich of those days； she no longer felt any aversion to the man。 The word weak no longer sounded like a verdict。 Any man confronted with superior strength is weak； even if he has an athletic body like Dubcek's。 The very weakness that at the time had seemed unbearable and repulsive； the weakness that had driven Tereza and Tomas from the country； suddenly attracted her。 She realized that she belonged among the weak； in the camp of the weak； in the country of the weak； and that she had to be faithful to them precisely because they were weak and gasped for breath in the middle of sentences。
She felt attracted by their weakness as by vertigo。 She felt attracted by it because she felt weak herself。 Again she began to feel jealous and again her hands shook。 When Tomas noticed it； he did what he usually did： he took her hands in his and tried to calm them by pressing hard。 She tore them away from him。
What's the matter？ he asked。
Nothing。
What do you want me to do for you？
I want you to be old。 Ten years older。 Twenty years older！
What she meant was： I want you to be weak。 As weak as I am。
27
Karenin was not overjoyed by the move to Switzerland。 Karenin hated change。 Dog time cannot be plotted along a straight line； it does not move on and on； from one thing to the next。 It moves in a circle like the hands of a clock； which—they； too； unwilling to dash madly ahead—turn round and round the face； day in and day out following the same path。 In Prague； when Tomas and Tereza bought a new chair or moved a flower pot； Karenin would look on in displeasure。 It disturbed his sense of time。 It was as though they were trying to dupe the hands of the clock by changing the numbers on its face。
Nonetheless； he soon managed to reestablish the old order and old rituals in the Zurich flat。 As in Prague； he would jump up on their bed and welcome them to the day； accompany Tereza on her morning shopping jaunt； and make certain he got the other walks coming to him as well。
He was the timepiece of their lives。 In periods of despair； she would remind herself she had to hold on because of him； because he was weaker than she； weaker perhaps even than Dubcek and their abandoned homeland。
One day when they came back from a walk； the phone was ringing。 She picked up the receiver and asked who it was。
It was a woman's voice speaking German and asking for Tomas。 It was an impatient voice； and Tereza felt there was a hint of derision in it。 When she said that Tomas wasn't there and she didn't know when he'd be back； the woman on the other end of the line started laughing and； without saying goodbye； hung up。
Tereza knew it did not mean a thing。 It could have been a nurse from the hospital； a patient； a secretary； anyone。 But still she was upset and unable to concentrate on anything。 It was then that she realized she had lost the last bit of strength she had had at home： she was absolutely incapable of tolerating this absolutely insignificant incident。
Being in a foreign country means walking a tightrope high above the ground without the net afforded a person by the country where he has his family； colleagues； and friends； and where he can easily say what he has to say in a language he has known from childhood。 In Prague she was dependent on Tomas only when it came to the heart； here she was dependent on him for everything。 What would happen to her here if he abandoned her？ Would she have to live her whole life in fear of losing him？
She told herself： Their acquaintance had been based on an error from the start。 The copy of Anna Karenina under her arm amounted to false papers； it had given Tomas the wrong idea。 In spite of their love； they had made each other's life a hell。 The fact that they loved each other was merely proof that the fault lay not in themselves； in their behavior or inconstancy of feeling； but rather in their incompatibility： he was strong and she was weak。 She was like Dubcek； who made a thirty…second pause in the middle of a sentence； she was like her country； which stuttered； gasped for breath； could not speak。
But when the strong were too weak to hurt the weak； the weak had to be strong enough to leave。
And having told herself all this； she pressed her face against Karenin's furry head and said； Sorry； Karenin。 It looks as though you're going to have to move again。
28
Sitting crushed into a corner of the train compartment with her heavy suitcase above her head and Karenin squeezed against her legs； she kept thinking about the cook at the hotel restaurant where she had worked when she lived with her mother。 The cook would take every opportunity to give her a slap on the behind； and never tired of asking her in front of everyone when she would give in and go to bed with him。 It was odd that he was the one who came to mind。 He had always been the prime example of everything she loathed。 And now all she could think of was looking him up and telling him； You used to say you wanted to sleep with me。 Well； here I am。
She longed to do something that would prevent her from turning back to Tomas。 She longed to destroy brutally the past seven years of her life。 It was vertigo。 A heady； insuperable longing to fall。
We might also call vertigo the intoxication of the weak。 Aware of his weakness； a man decides to give in rather than stand up to it。 He is drunk with weakness； wishes to grow even weaker； wishes to fall down in the middle of the main square in front of everybody； wishes to b