see...
''You've taught me that we must see
each other as two anxious children'' -
- ''filled with good will
and the best intentions.''
''But gov...''
Now l see it. ''But governed by forces
we only partially control.''
''Do you remember saying all of that?''
''We were walking in the woods
and you stopped and held my belt...''
There was a photograph
with the letter as well.
lt's a photograph of your son.
l don't know if...
Would you like it, Mrs Vogler?
He looks awfully sweet.
l've been thinking, Elisabet. l don't
think you should remain at the hospital.
l think it's harmful.
As you don't want to go home -
- you and Sister Alma can move out
to my summer place by the sea. Hmm?
Don't you think l understand?
The hopeless dream of being.
Not seeming, but being.
Consious at every moment. Vigilant.
At the same time the chasm between
what you are to others and to yourself.
The feeling of vertigo and the constant
desire to at last be exposed.
To be seen through, cut down,
perhaps even annihilated.
Every tone of voice a lie, every gesture
a falsehood, every smile a grimace.
Commit suicide? Oh, no.
That's ugly. You don't do that.
But you can be immobile, you can
fall silent. Then at least you don't lie.
You can close yourself in,
shut yourself off.
Then you don't have to play roles,
show any faces or make false gestures.
You think...
But you see, reality is bloody-minded.
Your hideout isn't watertight.
Life seeps in everything.
You're forced to react.
No one asks if it's real or unreal,
if you're true or false.
lt's only in the theatre the question
carries weight. Hardly even there.
l understand you, Elisabet. l understand
you're keeping silent, you're immobile.
That you've placed this lack of will
into a fantastic system.
l understand and admire you.
l think you should maintain this role
until it's played out.
Until it's no longer interesting.
Then you can leave it.
Just as you bit by bit
leave all your other roles.
rs Mogler and Sister Alma moved out
to the doctor's house in late summer,
The sojourn near the sea
had a favourable effect on the actress,
The apathy that had crippled her
in hospital yields to long walks -
- fishing trips, cooking,
letter writing and other diversions,
Sister Alma enjoys her rural seclusion
and takes utmost care of her patient,
Don't you know it's bad luck
to compare hands?
Elisabet? Can l read you something
from my book?
Or am l disturbing you? lt says here:
''All the anxiety we bear with us,
all our thwarted dreams'' -
- ''the incomprehensible cruelty,
our fear of extinction'' -
- ''the painful insight
into our earthly condition'' -
- ''have slowly eroded our hope
of an other-wordly salvation.''
''The howl of our faith and doubt
against the darkness and silence'' -
- ''is one of the most awful proofs
of our abandonment'' -
- ''and our terrified,
unuttered knowledge.''
Do you think it's like that?
l don't believe it.
Making changes...
The worst thing with me is l'm so lazy.
And then l get a bad conscience. Karl-
Henrik scolds me for lacking ambition.
He says l go around like a sleepwalker.
l think that's unfair.
l was best in my group with the exams.
But he probably means something else.
You know...
Oh, sorry. You know
what l sometimes think of?
At the hospital where l did my exam,
there's a home for old nurses.
Ones that have always been nurses,
lived for their work. Always in uniform.
They live in their small rooms. lmagine
devoting your whole life to something.
l mean, believing in something.
Accomplishing something.
Believing that one's life has a purpose.
l like things like that.
Sticking to one thing doggedly,
irrespective. l think one ought to.
Mean something to other people.
Don't you think so as well?
l know it sounds childish,
but l believe in it.
Goodness, it's raining a lot!
Oh, yes. He was married.
We had a relationship for five years.
Then he got tired, of course.
l was very