It occurred to me that, in the future, I cast a shadow, Anna said; i couldn’t argue with that, but I also knew that representatives of congress come and go; so Anna Karenina, i think, might have hijacked Anna’s channel. But then it occurred to me that Anna and or Anna Karenina were unhappy with the voices I’d proscribed to them: they wanted me to stop conflating Anna and Anna Karenina such that I would end up confused and misguided by thinking that what I had with Anna Karenina could have been replicated with what I wanted to have with Anna. Furthermore, I think Anna felt that I was talking down to her. She seemed to know that I was using both her voice and the voice of my internal narrator to talk to her when, as I’d previously understood, thinking in one person’s natural voice means that you’re talking to that person.
So I switched it, which, honestly, didn’t change things that much. When I tried, while occupied, to think of Anna Karenina’s voice it usually merged with the voice of my internal narrator anyhow. Furthermore, I needed to back off Anna Karenina because I’d gone far enough: we weren’t going to be inviting people to the wedding any time soon—and, in all likelihood, my repeated invocation of her image and her voice, which, while occupied, might’ve merged, might’ve meant that I was in her head and driving her out of her mind. It was decided then: Anna Karenina’s image might mean I was imagining both Anna Karenina and Anna, but I changed it so that I didn’t bother myself or Anna too much by constantly intoning her voice.
So what are our options? Anna Karenina said. So I projected Anna Karenina’s voice and said, “We can do whatever we want.” Then I was certain that I’d heard from Einstein—because his image popped into my mind and he said, “I want to be like them.”
Like them? “Yes, sir, I want to be like them!”
It occurred to me then that I was talking to both Einstein and Anna Karenina because Anna Karenina answered my question: this, undoubtedly, was a woman that was good at math—and she wanted to show me that. Considering that the iceberg, for me, was theoretical physics, I figured I needed to incorporate Anna Karenina (and, at times, Einstein) into my research. I needed to think of Einstein less like a vain idiot and I needed to think of Anna Karenina more like a theoretical physicist or mathematician.
“That’s what I want,” Anna Karenina said. you can’t hurt me, Anna said. But how was I supposed to interpret that? Did she think I was trying to hurt her—or was she saying that, although I needed to dial it back a little, I didn’t need to dial it back all the way? The latter made me happy: i’d be sure to connect with Anna Karenina, perhaps while reading a book or something; i could report what was said between us, too. But I needed to understand that I might’ve confused my feelings for Anna with for my feelings for Anna Karenina—my protégé.
“What do you care?” Anna asked.
Now we were on to something. “You have a boyfriend,” I projected. But I think she might’ve been miffed because she didn’t think that a relationship between us should get physical—she might’ve just wanted to be my friend.