All language subtitles for Le vieux pays où Rimbaud est mort (1977) EN

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Prior to take-off from Montréal,
the 2nd-largest French-speaking city

in the world,
fasten your seat belts

and stop smoking.
Our visit to the old country, France,

will last two hours

thanks to the flight pattern
of film abstraction.

They found it!

What?

Eternity.

Reality being too thorny

for my formidable self...

Men and women used to believe
in prophets.

Today we believe in politicians.

How can we understand?

We are burdened with a mantle
of ignorance, a paltry imagination!

Apes of men,
fallen from our mother's wombs,

our shadowy reason obscures
the infinite.

We yearn to see...

doubt tortures us!

Doubt, that dismal bird beats us
with its wings

and the horizon flees

in eternal flight!

I dream of a war
of right or might

of a logic unforeseen.

As simple as a musical phrase.

''Paris never sleeps''

When I was a boy

people told me of

the glories of France.

I saw d'Artagnan

and also Marignan.

I was present at Versailles

and many a glorious battle.

There was Austerlitz

and Lafayette.

We celebrated the Revolution

the 14th day of July.

Then I discovered

the dark side

of our glorious past.

Waterloo, Sedan...

Vichy and that gang.

I saw Dien Bien Phu

and Algiers too.

Peoples wronged,

weapons paraded.

The Paris Commune

was no celebration

at the Mur des Fédérés.

I don't know

how to tell children

about the glories of France.

''Paris sleeps no more''

The Loire and its châteaux

the parc de Chenonceaux.

I have met Racine.

Just thinking

of Cézanne and Rimbaud

sets my heart astir.

But where are our beaches?

Beneath the paving stones.

''Again today
I woke up fully dressed.''

That's pretty.

Hurry, mom'll be late.

The sun and the rain

are my friends.

The wind and the storm

are too.

The sun is my love,

the rain is my love.

I'm dazzled when it's sunny.

I'm delighted when it rains.

A ray of sun lures me
from my sleep.

A few drops of rain are always...

Come on...
Give me your hand.

Hello.
- Hello Mme Jeanne, hello Viviane.

She's better?
-Much.

Be good.

Give me a kiss. See you tonight.

Will you be a good girl?

When I was a boy

people told me of

the glories of France.

I saw d'Artagnan

and also Marignan.

Café au lait, please.

Here you are.

May I?

A croissant too.

A big one.

Dear Dad...

Time

as you told me eight years ago...

...just before Mom died...

time erases many things...

...but brings back many others.

The Revolution's a joke.

Fascist!

Today...

...I'd like to see you

and take you up in one
of the small planes I fly.

Don't know if you remember...

Québec is lovely!

To France!

To me!
- Fuck you!

- Anyway, here I am in Paris.

Wanted to have a look.

It's different
from what you'd expect.

When I got here...

France will never change.
Vive la France!

Nor will religion, Mr. Minister.

Nor will sex, my dears.

I was astounded to see
that the metro has

different colored cars
marked '1' and '2'.

I took no. 1

and had to pay a fine

for stepping out of my class.

France is coming apart!

Never!

I'm fine.

I'm seeing your planter friends,

the de Cassants.

End colonialism!

Dirty nigger!

Hope you're well too.

No hard feelings.

Napoléon's son.

There are other paintings I wish
I could show you. Come along.

Here are a few examples...

People obviously weren't ready

for Cézanne's colors...

being accustomed
to the palette and forms

of late 18th,

early 19th-century painting.

They'd have gotten used
to the colors.

Think of Expressionism...
I mean, Impressionism-

we mustn't confuse the schools.

But there was something else
in Cézanne... architecture.

Objects, people...

like the contours
of the card players...

Fuck!

...rendered by an abstract line
completely new to painting.

His way of decomposing reality-

and recomposing it...

They couldn't accept that.

Oh shit!
Not again!

I keep losing the thread.

Can you help me?

Mme Duparc!
- Oh, hello.

How are you?
- Fine, and you?

- Fine. Busy day today?
- I guess.

Your button...

You're missing a button.

You're missing a button.

Draw it in.

From the south?

Belgium? You Belgian?

I'm from elsewhere, Christ.

There!

That's not me.

What do you mean?

Where's the snow?

Never looked in a mirror!
What snow?

It's 100 balles just the same.

That's 100 francs?
OK, I got it.

Is he for real?

'That's not me!'

Here.
- So long.

It's settled, but watch out!

Won't be so easy next time.

Sign here.

Life may seem tough at times

but you learn as you go along.

I'll call your sister.

What's the time?

Ten to six.

Can we go?

It wasn't too bad?
- No.

It'll get easier.
- Think so?

- Sure.

What are you doing tomorrow?
- Buying jeans.

- What about you?
- I'll be with my daughter.

Smoke?
- Do I smoke?

Is that a joke?

This sign says all are barred
from smoking in my car.

Sorry.

No harm done.

Your accent isn't Parisian.

From Provence?
Quick, your response.

I'm not from France.
- Quelle chance!

France is a vestige of itself.

People on strike
for every wage hike.

Gas prices are astronomical
and taxes diabolical.

The young are stoned
and abortions condoned.

Oh groan!

I saw him.

Not to mention Giscard and the rest.

I wouldn't have him as my guest.

As for TV, best keep it shut...

French culture's in a terrible rut.

Movies have gone porno,
nothing but ass.

And where you're from?

In Quebec, too,

it's a helluva mess.

Right.

The last time
I saw your father was...

When was it?

Oh yes. In '58, in Algiers,

a year not easily forgotten.

Not in France.
As for elsewhere...

You Canadians
lost in all that snow...

Don't blame Voltaire-

surely you remember
his 'few acres of snow'.

Voltaire lived near here.

And I recall

that one of my great aunts...

Well... more champagne?

I managed to save some
of my cellar.

You wouldn't have
a nice cold brew?

What a charming accent!

Yvonne, ask the kitchen for a beer.

Right away.

As I was saying...

about your dear father, Napoléon,

quite astute to invest
his money outside Algeria.

DolorÚs...

a nice cold brew!

They have yet to pay us

our repatriation allowance.

Lucky we have Switzerland!

Are you planning to take over
your father's affairs?

Pardon my asking.

Of course

your father has
started a new life.

May I?

I collect insects.

What insects?
- Cockroaches.

Have a good weekend.

Then I discovered

the dark side

of our glorious past.

Waterloo, Sedan.

Vichy and that gang.

I saw Dien Bien Phu

and Algiers too.

Peoples wronged,

weapons paraded.

The Paris Commune

was no celebration

at the Mur des Fédérés.

I don't know how

to tell children

about the glories of France.

The Loire and its châteaux

the parc de Chenonceaux...

I have met Racine.

Just thinking of

Cézanne and Rimbaud

sets my heart astir.

But where are our beaches?

Beneath the paving stones.

Hers is a name dear

to the ears of all French
Canadians...

It's the sweet name
of Madeleine de VerchÚres,

terror of the Indians.

How much is it?
- 3.80 an hour.

- Which one do you want?

I guess you'll have
to take a red one.

Will you help me carry it?

Let's launch it.

Don't lose it.

No, we'll keep an eye on it.

Look, ducks... See them?

We'll put it down there.

Give it a little shove.

Ready?

The wind makes it go.
See how the wind pushes it?

Jeanne!

Hello Madame.

Call me Anne.

Sorry, Madame.
- Anne.

- Sorry, it seems strange.

How can I thank you?
- That's alright.

It wasn't easy,
but I'm glad I could help.

Now forget all about it.

People have done stupider things
because of their fathers.

Will he be OK?

Sure, but the further he is
from his dad, the better.

I'll try to keep him with me.

Thanks Anne.
I almost said Madame again.

Good luck Jeanne.

Thank you Ma... Anne.

Bye Yves.

Want something?

Some flowers.

So I figured.

Give me 3 yellow ones.

And 3 red ones.

3 mauve...

No, a fuller one.

And 3 of the yellow and white ones.

That's 15 francs.

Expect me to change that!

500 francs is all I have.

Well go get change.

Give me 500 francs' worth.

Thank you.

Think I'll go for a walk.

I'd go with you

but I have to finish.

I love you, you know.

Yes, I know.

I need some sun.

I know.

Yeah, you know.

We know all there is to know
about everything.

Anyway, I'm going for a walk.

70 centimes.

What?

The chair's 70 centimes!

You want to buy the chair?

Oh, you're a foreigner.

We rent the chairs
for 70 centimes.

I don't have change.

Can I pay with flowers?

Well, just this once.
It's summer.

Thank you.

Enjoy your stay.

May I see your permit?
- My what?

- Your permit to sell flowers!

And you've lost a button.

Right.
- Let's see it.

- I'm not selling them.
- Think I'm a fool?

I've been watching you.
Your papers.

Here you go.

Vive le Québec libre,

as the General said.

Don't stay here
with all those flowers.

It's over now.

It's over.

That must be Abel.

You know that
you're more than a brother

and I'm more than a sister.

Yves?
- Abel?

Glad to meet you.

Come in.

Like them?

I have lots more.

Do you have any Cézanne?

I do the odd one now and then.

More coffee?

Please. Thank you.

And you?

Yes, please.

A little more?

Just a little, it's strong.

Stop!
Where's the milk?

Nice to meet Portuguese people.

Are there any in Canada?

Just a few, here and there.

Do you speak French in Canada?

Not everybody, but some do.

They speak pretty good too.

Let's go.
- OK.

We should go.

Don't let me keep you.

How do you say goodbye?

Adeus.

Adeus señor or adeus whatever.

Would you like the flowers?

I'd love them.
- Here you go.

I'll let you out.

Like airplanes?

I want to be a pilot.

I'm a pilot.

I don't fly the big ones,
just small ones.

You do?

Jeanne never told me.

Propeller planes.

Jeanne doesn't know everything.

We're good friends but...

Maybe I can learn.

I'm sure you can.

Mme Delpêche?

For you.

Thank you.

What is it?

Yves...

Mom's dead.

Thanks.

Stop for a bite?

No thanks.

Everything OK?

Not bad.

That's good.

I'd rather you waited
until it's finished.

What do you have to say?
Anybody?

Think it's funny, huh?

Go ahead, laugh...

Yeah...

In my day we knew how to fight.

We weren't scared.

Take a look!

Verdun, a bayonet!

Dunkirk, shrapnel.

In my day we knew how to fight!

I'm not finished!

You want to see?

Dien Bien Phu,
that was something.

But you're too young to know.

Napalm... you have to see it.

Know what napalm is?

You can't imagine.

But, in my opinion
the best was Algiers.

A grenade right in the...

with all due respect Miss...

Never mind,
you can't possibly understand.

I thought I'd never cry again

after my husband died.

If I look back

I had 3 good years.

That's all.

It started bad and got worse.

To think she died
without seeing Yves!

She was so worried about him.

I know what dad'll say.

He'll say Yves killed her...

that she died of grief.

But that's a lie.

I spoke to the lady,
the juvenile court judge.

She said he's not a bad kid.

A lot of kids steal cars

to act tough or whatever.

He was unlucky.

He would've tried anything.

With that drunken soldier
of a father.

He was fed up,

like me and all of us.

A life of getting yelled at
and beaten and punished

for nothing.

We couldn't breathe
except when he was away.

Especially Mom.

But when he came back...

Seven children.

One each leave.

Two died, poor things.

Yves was born after Algeria

when Dad came back from the war.

I never understood that war

till my husband explained it.

My dad spouted all the big words...

honor, patriotism

French Algeria!

Know what his honor was?

Making Mom's life hell.

He killed her. He did.

I hope he lets me have Yves.

I can help him.

I could've made it

if Pierre hadn't died.

I hardly ever talk about Pierre.

He was so calm.

He was funny, always laughing.

You're like him.

When you consider

how many work accidents happen
each year...

Why him?

Why us?

If not for Yves and Viviane

I couldn't have gone on.

I'm so tired of fighting.

Why does it have
to be like this?

Tell me.

You and your buttons!

Who's he?

Where were you?

Mourning your mother.

I won't have strangers here!

For sale:
anarchy for the masses!

Irrepressible satisfaction
for true connoisseurs.

Agonizing death

for the faithful and for lovers.

On the green,
chopped into prim lawns,

the square where all is just so,
the trees and the flowers.

The wheezing notables
strangled by summer's heat

flaunt their jealous vanities
on Thursday nights.

In the garden, the military band

bobbing their shakos
to the Fife waltz.

In the first rows,

the dandy parades.

The notary ponders
the figures of his watch.

Pince-nez investors
revel in the sour notes.

Fat, bloated clerks drag
their fat wives along,

then the unofficial
elephant-keepers,

their flounces
like advertisements.

As for me

I'm as dishevelled as a student.

Under the green chestnut trees,
the girls, so alert.

They know it well
and laughing turn toward me,

their eyes full of indiscretions.

The flag well suits
the squalid landscape

and our patois muffles the drum.

In our capitals, we'll nurture
the most cynical prostitution.

We'll massacre logical revolts

in countries spicy and drenched

at the service

of the most hideous industrial
or military exploitation.

Conscripts of good will,
ours will be a ferocious philosophy

ignorant of science,

rabid for comfort,

death for the world around.

This is the true course!

Forward!
March!

As for me, I have my holy poetry

and my modesty.

How'd you meet my sister?

By accident.

Do you love her?

As much as you.

What's Québec like?

You have small cars
that make lots of noise...

We have big cars
that don't make any noise.

It's big too...

immensely big,

hugely immense.

I'd like to visit.

You can stay with me.

My sister too?

We'll see.
- Why?

- Cause of Viviane.
- I'd take care of her.

You love Viviane, huh?
- My sister too...

Why weren't you at the funeral?

I'm not part of the family.

I felt bad

but I'm not family.

Do you have a family?

My mom died too...

a long time ago.

My dad's in Brazil.

Haven't seen him in 20 years.

Why're you here?

Christ,

you ask a lot of questions.

Because...

the French came over

a few centuries ago...

and then forgot us

so I came to France

to see if there are still
Frenchmen here

and to see if they're like
the French who settled Québec

and to see if they're like me...

and...

Yeah, if they're like me.

And?

You're like the Little Prince

and I'm the pilot.

Think I could learn to fly?

If you want to.

But no war planes!

Never, I swear.

Better not.

Are you staying?

No, I'm leaving.

When?

Tonight.

That's too bad.

Come visit, huh!

You'll fly the plane... a big one.

Kiss Jeanne for me, OK?

Goodbye Yves.

There's my hand!

Why there it is!
Where's the other one?

Where is it?

It's not in yet.

Dad said it was my fault again.

Forget about it.
Kiss goodnight.

Beddy-bye now.

Time to go to sleep.

What about Abel?

He's just passing through.

Best leave him out of it.

Do you love him?

It's not that simple.

Big kiss. Sleep tight.

There you are.

About time.

Yup, she killed herself.

Without a doubt.

A pretty picture.

You should've seen her

hanging there.

When I found her she was cold.

You shouldn't even be here.

You killed her, you bum!

Stop it!

You were never any good,
a real punk!

You'll end up in jail.
- Will you shut up!

You killed Mom,
you made her life unbearable.

I forbid you to talk

to your father like that.

I'm your father.

Not anymore.

You sit down!
- Don't listen Yves.

You bastards.

You killed Mom

boozing and boasting
and preaching.

You and you alone.

And you're to blame for Yves too.

Always on his back.

Made him miserable-
like all of us.

Should've died in your Algeria!

Insulting a war invalid!

You've done hurting us.

Go on, get pissed every night.
We've had it!

You won't see us again,
any of us!

I'll teach you!
- Shit!

I'm going to Marseilles.

I need some sun.

I'll be at the villa or Mom's.

When will you be back?

Tuesday, probably.

Bye Anne.

Bye Jean.

When I was a boy

people told me of

the glories of France.

I saw d'Artagnan

and also Marignan.

I was present at Versailles

and many a glorious battle.

There was Austerlitz

and Lafayette.

We celebrated the Revolution

the 14th day of July.

Then I discovered

the hidden side

of the glories of France.

Waterloo, Sedan...

Vichy and that gang.

I saw Dien Bien Phu

and Algiers too.

Peoples wronged,

weapons paraded.

The Paris Commune

was no celebration

at the Mur des Fédérés.

I don't know how

to tell children

about the glories of France...

The Loire and its châteaux

the parc de Chenonceaux.

I have met Racine.

Just thinking of

Cézanne and Rimbaud

sets my heart astir.

But where are our beaches?

Beneath the paving stones.

Perhaps an evening awaits

with gentle drink

in some ancient town

and I will die content

because I am patient!

If my unrest should ease,

if ever I possess a few coins,

will I choose the North

or the land of vineyards?

''France exists. Sometimes... I...''

Come here little pigeon.

Easy...

There.

Bye now.

They found it!

What?

Eternity.

It's the sea melded

with the sun.

Thanks.

Waiter!

A large glass of milk
with red grenadine please.

My dear daughter

I've had my typewriter fixed

so I'll try it out on you.

The results are
little short of amazing!

Your brother drops by every noon.

I don't mind,
though it's extra work.

At five,
I pick Frédéric up at school.

It's unbelievable

the new reading method they use.

The first sentence
in his book is

'Valery plays with Daniel.'

How do you explain 'Valery plays'

to a six-year-old?

They even have homework.

I asked his teacher.
It's true!

He's supposed to read
a page of his book

and practise writing.

Can you believe it?

He's six years old!

He has a lot of trouble spelling
horse, farm, with...

and it's hard for me to help

since I'm not familiar
with the method.

Last night was the limit!

He was supposed
to read and do exercises

using é, Ú, and ê.

It's impossible if not ridiculous

after a month of school

to teach the accents-
even circumflexes!

Waiter, bring me...

a large bottle of champagne.

But I must be boring you
with trivialities.

You see far worse in your work.

You maintain
that it isn't their fault.

I think that society's generous.

Today's kids
simply botch things up.

Sometimes I worry
about your son and my Frédéric.

As if I needed that.

Sometimes I even worry about you.

Your last letters sounded low.

and I'm so far from you here.

Enough of what you call
my 'moaning'.

A big hug. Kiss everyone

and tell them to write.

Mom... Momma.

To Momma.

To Momma!

What are you doing?

It's a cicada. It's dead.

I collect insects.

How strange! You like insects?

No, I don't like them, but...

I try to understand them.

You're crazy, Abel!

I've been told that before.

And what did you say?

I said:
Who can draw the line

between madness
and simplicity?

I don't know you
and I'm calling you 'tu'.

We only say 'vous' to old people

and to people we 'ate.

What?

People we 'ate.
- What does...

- Be gone with you, Frenchwoman!

People we... hate.

We don't talk like you either.

Enough, I get it.

Since you started,

you may as well explain the rest.

The rest?

Everything...

Everything?

Yes.

I'd never have enough time.

What for?

So I can understand.

Understand what?

Everything.
- Everything?

That's quite a challenge.

You see, all this...

it's my childhood...

When I'm at my wit's end
I come back

to where I was born.

And I feel happy,

selfishly happy.

I don't know
if we're allowed to be happy.

But, kind sir!

Don't let me dampen your spirits.

Tomorrow
I'll take you to mother's.

To Momma's.
- To Momma's.

You'll meet the best part of me.

I only served wine!

Would you prefer beer?

No thanks.
I drink white wine with fish,

red with steak and fries.

It's Coke with sandwiches

and beer only with ham.

And the olives?

Don't you like them?
- Seems not.

- Like my son-in-law.
He's from the North,

can't stand'em.
Are there olives in Canada?

No, it's too cold.

Well, I'll bring the fish.

Nothing fancy, but it's fresh.

I always buy it at Lina's.

Hand me the plates.

Your Canadian doesn't talk much.

Quebecker...

Anne told me,
but it's all the same to us.

You serve, I'll let him out.

More?

Just a little.

Take it easy,
you'll get what's left.

Not hungry? Don't you like it?

I'm waiting for you.

Here...
- Go ahead,

I'm big enough to serve myself.

A little salt perhaps?

Where is it?
- Here.

- No thanks, it's just

that my mouth was full.

Very good.

Are you here for long,
Mr. Canadian?

Quebecker, Mom.

No, I don't think so.

But you like it here?

Oh yes.

And the French too?

Why not?

France isn't as pretty as it was.

What do you do in life?

I'm a pilot, I fly planes...

the small ones.

Isn't that dangerous!

Not as good
as the bass we had, is it Anne?

No, it's delicious.
- It's very good.

- You didn't taste the others.

I'll put on the coffee.

Why don't you sit down?

Then I'll sew that button on.

A stitch in time...

Some more?

Just a little, it's strong.

There you go.

Thank you.

Care for some calvados?

Anne's husband brought it
from Normandy.

Just a drop.

Don't get up.

Hello?

Jean, how are you?

Fine, thank you.

I won't keep you.
It's long distance.

Anne, it's your husband.

Hello?

Yes, fine...

I'm not sure,
the day after tomorrow.

Tell him to join us.
- Hold on.

The sea air would do him good.

Mom says you should come down.

Oh right. Sorry, I forgot.

No, not at all.

Of course I understand.

It's my job to understand.

No, on the contrary, very well.

I feel almost happy.

I made a friend.

He's not French...

Don't be silly.

Absolutely.

Me too. Bye.

I'd love to be happy.
I'd love to be happy.

I feel old
like this old country.

And I've learned
not to trust in hope.

I complicate everything...

unless others do it for me.

I've lost the sense of tragedy.

I haven't the courage

to confront tragedy.

I learned so well
not to cry out...

like when I was a child.

But when I don't cry out

I'm not aware I'm alive.

It's my own existential terror.

As a girl

when I was sick

I'd shut out the pain,
to see if it was real.

While giving birth...

I have a son who's 20...

I'd stop screaming

to see if I could...

to see if this was truly

the height of pain.

I prefer to suffer
than feel dead inside.

Colette puts it so well:

'Nothing fades,
but I grow distant.'

If I were to give up?

When I was a child...

that childhood again...

I wondered how people

in the nearby villages

could spend
their whole lives there.

Now I understand too well.

Having accepted life,

I could even live in jail.

I've probably changed
less than I think.

Crowds still terrify me.

A memory from Algeria.

I saw the animal savagery
of a crowd

and first met
injustice and fascism.

Sometimes I think love is
the perfect tranquillizer.

I'd like to refuse this medicine,

this ever so 'easy' way

of believing oneself unique.

Every monstrosity violates
the atrocious gestures

of Hortense.

Her solitude is
the erotic mechanism

her lassitude,
the amorous dynamic.

Under childhood's guidance

she has been, in numerous ages,

the ardent hygiene of races.

Her door is open to misery.

There, the morality of living beings is
disembodied in her passion

or her action.

A Frenchman wrote that.

Perhaps for you.

Rimbaud.

You see...

I'm losing you...

I lose you, lose you not...

in the meaning of your words...

...as if we had
different dictionaries

or spoke a different language.

How to say it?

By telling you

you're the first person

I'd give my insect collection to.

That means nothing to you...

...but everything to me.

I'm a guy with no history,
nothing to relate.

I've got forests
in my head and heart

and boundless horizons
dwarfing me,

dwarfing me...

with their overwhelming dimensions.

I have no history

but your Algeria is like my Québec.

Thus begins our romance.

Thus ends our romance.

It started by chance

and ends out of necessity.

How 'bout some coffee?

Who's there?

Why, our Canadian friend.

If it's for my daughter,
she's not here...

I know, she's in Cassis.

Say Cassi, Mr. Canadian

or you'll be taken
for a Parisian.

But look at me,
I'm not presentable!

I brought you a little something.
- You shouldn't have.

Goodness, prawns!

Sea urchins aren't in season.

How did you know?

Anne told me.

That girl! Come on in,
we'll eat them together.

The line's bad, I can't hear you.

That's better. It's me.

Yes, your wife.

I'll be home Tuesday.

Stormy.

You'll be happy to know
I learned how to cheat on you.

Yes it could've waited
till Tuesday.

No, I guess it couldn't.

I learned something: there's
no such thing as false love.

I said false love.

That's why we must be faithful.

True love is the love
we decide is real

or everything we do
would mean the same.

Yeah.
Of course, you're right.

I shouldn't make a fuss.

That's it, babbling as usual.

Let's talk about it Tuesday.

Bye.

There!

Now Mr. Canadian, open some wine.

When Anne's around
there's always a bottle on ice.

Nothing special, but drinkable.

Here's the corkscrew.

Would you answer?

The phone's in the hall.

Yes, this is the place
but she's not here.

She's in Cassis... I mean Cassi.

If it's urgent...

I can give her a message.

Who?

Not the Jeanne Delpêche I know!

It's Abel.
Yes, the Abel you know.

The world's so small.

Imagine you knowing her...

So Anne looks after Yves,

I see.

He didn't run away again?

Shit.

I understand.

Don't give up.

I know

but Anne will take care of it.

No, I've decided
I'm not going back to Paris.

But I won't forget you Jeanne.

I won't forget you.

I'll write.

Don't give up Jeanne.

I know, but try.

I'll think of you.

A lot.

Hi, Anne.

Bye, Abel.

I wanted to tell you...
about Yves.

I know.

Funny...

I look at the sea

and it all seems
like a big post card.

I'm here

but I'm from elsewhere.

We're on this huge post card

and I don't know
who to send it to.

And if you came to visit
and saw me

nestled in the snow like a bear

with my heavy racoon coat

you'd feel the same way...

...and wouldn't know
who to send it to.

Yes, I know.

When I was a boy

people told me of

the glories of France.

I saw d'Artagnan

and also Marignan.

I was present at Versailles

and many a glorious battle.

There was Austerlitz

and Lafayette.

We celebrated the Revolution

the 14th day of July.

Then I discovered

the hidden side

of the glories of France.

Waterloo, Sedan.

Vichy and that gang...