—GUY DE MAUPASSANT (1850–1893), On Water MAY 2 Guy is irreproachable. He is deathly dull. The only thing to be done is to cheat on him, a course of action I have been pursuing for quite some time now. I dream of a husband who’s a lady-killer, a heartbreaker, a womanizer, a skirt chaser, a charming Casanova, a beautiful bastard! Alas! I share a sterilized bed with a faithful man. I am married to an easygoing family man who takes me gently, paternalistically, whispering words into my ear that are more tender than exciting, kissing me in a way that is more respectful than earthshaking. To reach nirvana, I must sink into some bawdy vision of lust and debauchery, a delicious dream of sinful violence, complex positions, and coarse language. MAY 21 My husband bores me. It’s sad but true. My children are beautiful, but they have never awoken any maternal instinct. I love them, of course, but it’s the nanny who brings them up. The idea of taking care of baby bottles, diapers, vaccinations, and walks in the park is utterly foreign to me.
