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Peggy Guggenheim, Santomaso,
and I were in a Venetian
restaurant. There were only
two other people dining in the same
room and they were not conversing.
I got to expressing my
changed views with regard to the
French and the Italians.
I said that I had years before
preferred the French because of their
intelligence and had found the
Italians playful but intellectually not
engaging; that recently,
however, I found the French
cold in spirit and lacking in freedom
of the mind, whereas the
Italians seemed warm and surprising.
Then it occurred to me that
the couple in the room were French.
I called across to
them and said, “Are you
French?” The lady replied.
“We are,” she said,
“but we agree with you completely.”
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