RIC-J: Eva, I propose to you not to speak about your husband, ok?

E.B.: I prefer never to speak about him. One, it seems, is always condemned for speaking about love.

RIC-J: What was you last read book?

E.B.: Ukrainian folk tales, a favourite from my childhood. It’s less about humans and more about animals, which I appreciate. I admire the inherent amorality of animals. They know existence better than we can ever hope to.

RIC-J: Do you rather feel like Eva or Lilith?

E.B.: Does anyone ever feel like one or the other? In dark moments, Eva calls herself Lilith.

RIC-J: Lipstick or nothing?

E.B.: No lipstick? Quelle horreur! My favourite is red, but if I ever lived in the 21^st century, I would also have a soft spot for a particular Chanel pink (difficult to find in Nazi Germany since it’s not made yet! Maybe you can ask your editor to lend it to me?).

RIC-J: Virgin Mary or Kali?

E.B.: Kali, for it was because of her that Mary was not virgin.

RIC-J: The last words of your father?

E.B.: I do not know – you will have to ask him yourself in one of your Ouija interviews. If I can speak to you, so can he. And if there is afterlife, are there really any last words?

RIC-J: Children or not?

E.B.: Yes, of course, but only if I am able to look them in their (young) eyes and tell them, truly, that life is worth living. A great misfortune for a child is to have a mother (or a father) disappointed with life, because then the question is: why create life when you do not believe in life?

Death comes in many forms, and I do not want to be a dead mother.

RIC-J: One last trip: where?

E.B.: St. Petersburg, Russia. I won’t answer why because you didn’t ask.

RIC-J: One citation, which one?

E.B.: Robert Pirsig’s memory of Plato, “And what is good, Phaedrus, And what is not good—Need we ask anyone to tell us these things?”

RIC-J: Your personal recipe in case of an headache?

E.B.: A cup of strongly brewed Darjeeling tea, a dash of milk, with a little bit of grated ginger. I only drink Darjeeling tea, even during wars. Apart from love, it’s another one of my vices for which I am criticized.

RIC-J: In memory of a Sufi patient, give me a definition of life in only two words.

E.B.: Bitter Lemon.