The Unbearable Lightness of Being

This chapter is a “short dictionary of misunderstood words” between Sabina and Franz (89). Sabina realizes that she and Franz have wildly different definitions for common and (she thinks) easily understood terms. She views “woman” simply as one of the two sexes. To Franz, a “true” woman is the platonic ideal of woman, which he bases on his mother rather than his wife. Their definitions of fidelity and betrayal also differ. Franz, because he views fidelity to his mother, even after her death, as the highest form of love, sees betrayal as particularly vile. For Sabina, betrayal signifies “going off into the unknown,” which is, for her, the most magnificent part of life (91). She recalls her early love for cubism and her father’s disdain for it. Leaving home to attend art school in Prague was both a betrayal of her father’s values and the best decision she had ever made. There, where students were forced to paint according to the communist party-approved style of social realism, her affinity for cubism was another kind of exciting betrayal. She married and then divorced a man whose presence had become tiresome to her, and that betrayal she also found liberating. Music is another area of profound difference for the two: Having lived his life dedicated to words, language, and writing, he loves to get lost in the Dionysian thrill of music. For Sabina, music is little more than noise. Franz feels similarly about the dichotomy between light and darkness: For him darkness is preferable because he can get lost in it. For Sabina, an artist, light is sublime.

In Geneva, Sabina attempts to forge friendships among the group of Czech émigrés who have resettled there. They endlessly rehash the Russian invasion of Czechoslovakia and the country’s communist history. Sabina does not share their opinions and feels markedly out of place in their company. They dismiss her art as unimportant and look down on her for not having fought against communism more actively. She does not see in them any real understanding of the ideology of the dissident movement and thinks that they are attracted only to the glory of men like Jan Hus, a dissident who self-immolated in protest of the Czech government.

This chapter continues the dictionary of misunderstood words. Sabina detests parades because they remind her of communist pageantry, particularly the May Day parades she was forced to perform in as a girl. Franz adores parades because they remind him of his days in Paris and recall for him the idea of history’s “Grand March” and the grandeur of Europe itself.

Sabina attends a reception given by Franz’s wife, Marie-Claude, who does not know that Sabina and Franz are lovers. Franz observes his wife and daughter socializing and sees them in an unflattering light. Marie-Claude makes a spectacle out of criticizing a necklace Sabina is wearing, and Franz realizes that this is because Sabina’s most recent show met mixed reviews and Marie-Claude wants to let Sabina (and everyone else in the room) know that there is a power imbalance between the two: As a well-regarded patroness of the arts, Marie-Claude has more social capital than Sabina.

This chapter concludes the short dictionary of misunderstood words between Sabina and Franz. Sabina continues to realize that she and Franz see the world in fundamentally dissimilar ways, and this extends to the beauty of religious buildings, individual characteristics like strength, and even the meaning of “living in truth” (112). For Sabina, accustomed to life under communist rule, it was not possible to “live in truth” in public, because individuals are always being surveilled by the state. Anyone who knows they are being watched at all times ceases to act authentically. Franz, himself the product of a capitalist state, does not see privacy through that lens.

He decides to tell Marie-Claude about his affair with Sabina. After he shares the story of his affair with her, he feels “lighter and lighter” (114). He is at last living in truth.

Although she does not share this with Franz, Sabina is chagrined that Marie-Claude knows of their affair. She assumes that he will want to marry her now, and that is not at all what she has in mind for their future. In fact, she is going to leave him. She admits that he is one of the best men she’s ever known, and yet she finds him distasteful.

Marie-Claude reacts to the dissolution of her marriage in a way that Franz, used to seeing her as a weak woman not unlike his own mother, finds puzzling. She tells him that she expects him to move in with Sabina. He heads to Sabina’s flat but finds that she has moved out. With no other options, he rents himself a new flat. One day, he sees his wife through the window of a café. She is happy, laughing, and animated, and he thinks she looks years younger. Back at his flat, his new desk arrives and he is pleased with it. He finds that he too is happier to be single. He radiates such a feeling of well-being that one of his students promptly falls in love with him. Marie-Claude, Franz, and Sabina are all much better off apart than they were together.

Sabina moves from Geneva to Paris, where in spite of how light she feels after ridding herself of Franz, she is lonely. Tomáš’s son writes to her that Tomáš and Tereza have recently died. They were living in the countryside on a collective farm, and the pickup that they were driving crashed due to faulty brakes.