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| BOOK: Going deeper into the first official still from ‘Cosmopolis’ Cosmopolis stills photographer, Caitlin Cronenberg, revealed the first official still today on twitter. With production starting May 23rd, this is certainly a treat for Cosmopolis fans. We’ve added a new menu page, Official Stills, to the limo bar.
After the dust settled (it hasn’t really but I’m too excited to not talk about this), I thought we could have a discussion thread about the scene in the still. We had an invigorating discussion series on the book back in February. You can check it out, The Discussion, found under The Story.
Book excerpt after the cut *SPOILERS*
From Cosmopolis by Don DeLillo:
He glanced out the one-way window to his left. It took him a moment to understand that he knew the woman in the rear seat of the taxi that lay adjacent. She was his wife of twenty-two days, Elise Shifrin, a poet who had right of blood to the fabulous Shifrin banking fortune of Europe and the world.
He coded a word to Torval up front. Then he stepped into the street and tapped on the taxi window. She smiled up at him, surprised. She was in her mid-twenties, with an etched delicacy of feature and large and artless eyes. Her beauty had an element of remoteness. This was intriguing but maybe not. Her head rode slightly forward on a slender length of neck. She had an unexpected laugh, a little weary and experienced, and he liked the way she put a finger to her lips when she wanted to be thoughtful. Her poetry was shit. She slid over and he got in next to her. The horns subsided and resumed in ritualistic cycles. Then the taxi shot diagonally across the intersection to a point just west of Second Avenue, where it reached another impasse, with Torval jogging hot behind.
“Where’s your car?”
“We can’t seem to find it,” she said. “I’d offer you a ride.”
“I couldn’t. Absolutely. I know you work en route. And I like taxis. I was never good at geography and I learn things by asking the drivers where they come from.”
“They come from horror and despair.”
“Yes, exactly. One learns about the countries where unrest is occurring by riding the taxis here.”
“I haven’t seen you in a while. I looked for you this morning.”
He took off his sunglasses, for effect. She gazed into his face. She looked steadily, with fixed attention. “Your eyes are blue,” she said.
He lifted her hand and held it to his face, smelling and licking. The Sikh at the wheel was missing a finger. Eric regarded the stub, impressive, a serious thing, a body ruin that carried history and pain.
“Eat breakfast yet?”
“No,” she said.
“Good. I’m hungry for something thick and chewy.”
“You never told me you were blue-eyed.” He heard the static in her laugh. He bit her thumb knuckle and opened the door and they stepped across the sidewalk to the coffee shop near the corner.
And the still certainly captures this moment, doesn’t it? Right here: He took off his sunglasses, for effect. She gazed into his face. She looked steadily, with fixed attention. “Your eyes are blue,” she said. And again here: “Good. I’m hungry for something thick and chewy.” “You never told me you were blue-eyed.”Fonte
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