Chapter 7 Connoisseurs slam fur coats

"Look at a painting similar to this one." My strange friend ignored my words and said to himself. This painting is an excellent facsimile of Titian's famous Venus in the Mirror in the Dresden gallery. "Hey, what are you going to do?" Savunin stood up and pointed to the fur coat of the goddess of love in Titian's work. "That's it too," he said with a smile. "I don't think this Venetian old man concealed his motives. He merely painted a portrait of some nobleman of Messalina, and humbly asked Cupid to hold the mirror so that the lady could examine her with satisfaction before it. Beautiful arms - though for Cupid, mirrors were not his thing. It was a piece of flattery. Later, certain rococo 'connoisseurs' attacked the furs of Venus and female tyrants It is believed that this is a symbol of women's dictatorship and cruel nature. Although the original intention of women wearing fur coats in Titian's works may be that they are afraid of colds and runny noses rather than out of chastity considerations.

"Enough is enough, this painting, as you see it now, is the bitterest satire of our beloved. The Venus of the North, who lived in the cold Christendom, could only be protected by thick fur coats Cold, avoid catching a cold." Savunin laughed and lit another cigar. At this time, the door opened.In came a plump, fair-haired, blue-eyed woman with bright, friendly eyes and a black silk gown.We were brought tea with cold meat and eggs.Savunin picked up an egg and sliced ​​it open with a knife. "Didn't I tell you to boil the eggs softer?" he yelled so loudly that the young woman trembled.

"But, my dear Seifertes—" she said anxiously. "Don't call me Seifertseff!" he growled. "You must obey my orders, obey, you understand," he yanked at the whip on the wall, which hung from a nail next to his weapon. The woman ran away from the house in fear, like a rabbit. "Wait, I won't spare you later!" he shouted behind her. "But, Savunin," I said, putting my hand on his shoulder, "how can you do this to a beautiful woman?" "Look at her," he replied, blinking comically. "If I indulge her too much, she'll put a rope around my neck. But if I discipline her with a whip, she'll adore me."

"Oh my God!" "Come on, that's how women are trained." "As far as I know, you live in your wives just like a pasha, but don't reason with me—" "Why not?" he cried hastily. "This is Goethe's motto, 'You can either be a hammer to hit others or be a chopping board to be hit by others,' isn't it a more appropriate metaphor for the relationship between men and women. Doesn't the Venus in your dream also admit it? A woman's power lies in a man's affection for her. Whether a man cares or not, she knows how to use her power. A man's only choice is to be a woman's king or her slave. If he gives up, he A rope is already put over his head, and he will feel the whipping."

"Strange motto!" "Not an adage, just a rule of thumb," he countered with a nod. "I was whipped hard, and I'm healed. Would you like to see it?" He stood up, walked to a large desk, took out a manuscript, and placed it on the table in front of me. "Didn't you keep asking about that painting? I've owed you an explanation for a long time. Here it is—look!" Savunin sat down in front of the fireplace, with his back to me, and seemed to be daydreaming with his eyes open.The house was quiet again, and the fire flames began to sing again.So is the teapot.So are the crickets on the old wall.I opened the manuscript and read:

"Confessions of a Transsensory Man." The inscription in the margin is from the famous line of Faust, slightly altered: You extrasensory man, Women lead you by the nose! I opened the title page and read: "The following article is compiled during my travel time. People's past cannot be described in biased language; therefore, everything has its bright colors, which are displayed in you. Colors in front of you."