Cosmopolis Read Online Free
Author: Don DeLillo
her against the wall drawing, a minimalist grid executed over several weeks by two of the artist's adjutants working with measuring instruments and graphite pencils.
They did not get serious about undressing until they were finished making love.
"Was I expecting you?"
"Just passing by."
They stood on opposite sides of the bed, bending and flexing to remove final items of clothing.
"Thought you'd drop in, did you? That's nice. I'm glad. Been a while. I read about it, of course."
She lay prone now, head turned on the pillow, and watched him.
"Or did I see it on TV?"
"What?"
"What? The wedding. How strange you didn't tell me."
"Not so strange."
"Not so strange. Two great fortunes," she said. "Like one of the great arranged marriages of old empire Europe."
"Except I'm a world citizen with a New York pair of balls."
Hoisting his genitals in his hand. Then he lay on the bed on his back staring into a painted paper lamp suspended from the ceiling.
"How many billions together do you two represent?"
"She's a poet."
10/91
Don DeLillo
Cosmopolis
"Is that what she is? I thought she was a Shifrin."
"A little of both."
"So rich and crisp. Does she let you touch her personal parts?"
"You look gorgeous today."
"For someone who's forty-seven and finally understands what her problem is."
"What's that?"
"Life is too contemporary. How old is your consort? Never mind. I don't want to know Tell me to shut up. One more question first. Is she good in bed?"
"I don't know yet."
"That's the trouble with old money," she said. "Now tell me to shut up."
He placed a hand on her buttock. They lay a while in silence. She was a scorched blonde named Didi Fancher. "I know something you want to know." He said, "What?"
"There's a Rothko in private hands that I have privileged knowledge of. It is about to become available."
"You've seen it."
"Three or four years ago. Yes. And it is luminous." He said, "What about the chapel?"
"What about it?"
"I've been thinking about the chapel."
"You can't buy the goddamn chapel."
"How do you know? Contact the principals."
"I thought you'd be thrilled about the painting. One painting. You don't have an important Rothko.
You've always wanted one. We've talked about this."
"How many paintings in his chapel?"
"I don't know. Fourteen, fifteen."
"If they sell me the chapel, I'll keep it intact. Tell them."
"Keep it intact where?"
"In my apartment. There's sufficient space. I can make more space.
"But people need to see it."
"Let them buy it. Let them outbid me."
"Forgive the pissy way I say this. But the Rothko Chapel belongs to the world."
"It's mine if I buy it."
She reached back and slapped his hand off her ass.
He said, "How much do they want for it?"
"They don't want to sell the chapel. And I don't want to give you lessons in self-denial and social responsibility. Because I don't believe for a minute you're as crude as you sound."
"You'd believe it. You'd accept the way I think and act if I came from another culture. If I were a pygmy dictator," he said, "or a cocaine warlord. Someone from the fanatical tropics. You'd love it, wouldn't you? You'd cherish the excess, the monomania. Such people cause a delicious stir in other people. People such as you. But there has to be a separation. If they look and smell like you, it gets confusing."
11/91
Don DeLillo
Cosmopolis
He pushed his armpit toward her face.
"Here lies Didi. Trapped in all the old puritanisms." He rolled belly down and they lay close, hips and shoulders touching. He licked along the rim of her ear and put his face in her hair, rooting softly.
He said, "How much?"
"What does it mean to spend money? A dollar. A million."
"For a painting?"
"For anything."
"I have two private elevators now One is programmed to play Satie's piano pieces and to move at one-quarter normal speed. This is right for Satie and this is the elevator I take when I'm in a certain, let's say, unsettled mood. Calms me, makes me
They did not get serious about undressing until they were finished making love.
"Was I expecting you?"
"Just passing by."
They stood on opposite sides of the bed, bending and flexing to remove final items of clothing.
"Thought you'd drop in, did you? That's nice. I'm glad. Been a while. I read about it, of course."
She lay prone now, head turned on the pillow, and watched him.
"Or did I see it on TV?"
"What?"
"What? The wedding. How strange you didn't tell me."
"Not so strange."
"Not so strange. Two great fortunes," she said. "Like one of the great arranged marriages of old empire Europe."
"Except I'm a world citizen with a New York pair of balls."
Hoisting his genitals in his hand. Then he lay on the bed on his back staring into a painted paper lamp suspended from the ceiling.
"How many billions together do you two represent?"
"She's a poet."
10/91
Don DeLillo
Cosmopolis
"Is that what she is? I thought she was a Shifrin."
"A little of both."
"So rich and crisp. Does she let you touch her personal parts?"
"You look gorgeous today."
"For someone who's forty-seven and finally understands what her problem is."
"What's that?"
"Life is too contemporary. How old is your consort? Never mind. I don't want to know Tell me to shut up. One more question first. Is she good in bed?"
"I don't know yet."
"That's the trouble with old money," she said. "Now tell me to shut up."
He placed a hand on her buttock. They lay a while in silence. She was a scorched blonde named Didi Fancher. "I know something you want to know." He said, "What?"
"There's a Rothko in private hands that I have privileged knowledge of. It is about to become available."
"You've seen it."
"Three or four years ago. Yes. And it is luminous." He said, "What about the chapel?"
"What about it?"
"I've been thinking about the chapel."
"You can't buy the goddamn chapel."
"How do you know? Contact the principals."
"I thought you'd be thrilled about the painting. One painting. You don't have an important Rothko.
You've always wanted one. We've talked about this."
"How many paintings in his chapel?"
"I don't know. Fourteen, fifteen."
"If they sell me the chapel, I'll keep it intact. Tell them."
"Keep it intact where?"
"In my apartment. There's sufficient space. I can make more space.
"But people need to see it."
"Let them buy it. Let them outbid me."
"Forgive the pissy way I say this. But the Rothko Chapel belongs to the world."
"It's mine if I buy it."
She reached back and slapped his hand off her ass.
He said, "How much do they want for it?"
"They don't want to sell the chapel. And I don't want to give you lessons in self-denial and social responsibility. Because I don't believe for a minute you're as crude as you sound."
"You'd believe it. You'd accept the way I think and act if I came from another culture. If I were a pygmy dictator," he said, "or a cocaine warlord. Someone from the fanatical tropics. You'd love it, wouldn't you? You'd cherish the excess, the monomania. Such people cause a delicious stir in other people. People such as you. But there has to be a separation. If they look and smell like you, it gets confusing."
11/91
Don DeLillo
Cosmopolis
He pushed his armpit toward her face.
"Here lies Didi. Trapped in all the old puritanisms." He rolled belly down and they lay close, hips and shoulders touching. He licked along the rim of her ear and put his face in her hair, rooting softly.
He said, "How much?"
"What does it mean to spend money? A dollar. A million."
"For a painting?"
"For anything."
"I have two private elevators now One is programmed to play Satie's piano pieces and to move at one-quarter normal speed. This is right for Satie and this is the elevator I take when I'm in a certain, let's say, unsettled mood. Calms me, makes me
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