All language subtitles for Le Genou de Claire (1970)

Downloaded From www.AllSubs.org

WINNER OF
THE "LOUIS DELLUC" AWARD

BEST FRENCH FILM
OF THE YEAR

SIX MORAL TALES

CLAIRE'S KNEE

MONDAY, JUNE 29TH

J�r�me!

Aurora!

- See? Anything's possible.
- With me it is.

I expected to run into you in Paris,
but not here.

You're living here now?

Yes, I found a room in a village.
I'm on vacation.

- Where? Near the lake?
- Talloires.

Then we're neighbors.
Are you in the town?

The far end of the lake.

I have a house there
where I spent vacations as a child.

I'm here to sell it.
I expect to stay three weeks.

I searched everywhere for you.
Are you no longer in Paris?

I am, but I moved.
Are you still in Morocco?

No, Sweden.
What are you doing on this bridge?

You know it's the Lovers' Bridge?

My coffee grounds predicted
an encounter, but it was only you.

You didn't even recognize me.
Have I changed that much?

Not at all. You're prettier
and younger than ever.

But I was steering the boat,

and besides, I don't look
at the ladies anymore.

That's right.
I'm getting married.

I'll tell you everything
over lunch,

and then I'll take you home,
if the idea doesn't frighten you.

How strange that we've never
crossed paths since.

We've spent our vacations
since 1945 in Brittany.

Last time I played
with your brothers, I was 12.

Philippe was very nice,
but Bernard was really mean.

But you were never there.
- I was 15. I despised young boys.

Besides, you never
paid attention to me.

Excuse me, but I remember very well.
You had bouffant hair,

and a blue bicycle.

I wore my hair straight
and had a black bicycle.

You're thinking of
Bernadette Paccard.

Ah, right. I didn't look at
the older girls. They scared me.

And the younger ones?

I only remember one girlfriend.

She was eight, with blonde hair.
Her name was Poupinette.

That was Marie-Th�r�se Charvet,
who's now my sister-in-law.

She married Bernard.

Ah, I suspected she was
cheating on me with him.

That's my daughter Laura.

This is Mr. Montcharvin,
who owns the Villa des Catalpas.

- Catalpas?
- Do you know it?

Some tea, sweetie?

You know the house?

She spent her vacations there
until she was 12.

It's a beautiful house.

Yes, but I'm selling it.

I hope they won't tear it down.

No, I think they'll restore it.
So you used to play there?

One year we ate
every single pear in the garden.

The new owner may not be
quite so obliging.

That's sad.

Aren't you sorry to be selling?

I'm never in France anymore.

J�r�me and I met
six years ago in Bucharest,

where he was
the cultural attach�.

Then I went off to Paris,
and you went -

To Stockholm,
where I'm about to get -

And you didn't even tell me.
You promised to write.

I hate writing,
especially to a writer.

I can sympathize.
Being a writer paralyzes me too.

Aren't you here to write?

For me, not for my friends.
I don't feel much like writing.

I think I'll decide
to take a vacation, like Laura.

Are you on vacation?

Just about.
School's out in two days.

I always skipped
the last few days.

Well, I won't.

We plan to play a trick on our teacher.
She's an old maid.

Not just old, but hateful.

She's only happy
when she's brought us to tears.

It's true.

You should see her
squirm with delight. It's revolting.

She's really evil,

and we're going to play
a nasty trick on her.

What kind of trick,
or is it a secret?

No, but we don't
really know yet.

We'll come up with something
at the last minute.

So she makes you cry?

Not me personally.
I never cry in front of others.

Seeing a girl cry
renders me utterly helpless,

especially if she's pretty.

So you make the ugly ones cry?

No, neither the ugly ones
nor the pretty ones.

I'm sure you do.
Just a bit, to see.

Aren't you ashamed
to reveal your dark side?

TUESDAY, JUNE 30TH

A Spanish soldier painted
these frescoes in the 18th century.

Recognize him?

Yes, Don Quixote,
with Sancho.

He's on a wooden horse,
but he thinks he's flying.

The bellows create the illusion of wind,
while the torch makes him think -

- He's nearing the sun.
- That's right.

They've been blindfolded.

The heroes of a story
are always blindfolded.

Otherwise they'd attempt nothing.
The plot would stall.

But no matter.
Actually, everyone wears a blindfold.

Or at least blinders.

Except you, since you write.

Yes, writing forces me
to keep my eyes open.

- But you work the bellows.
- No, I follow the characters' impulses.

Their own logic drives them on.

- But you help.
- No, I never invent. I discover.

Take anything.
I'm getting rid of it all.

A present. How nice.

"Index of official court stamps
and mortgages."

- Why, that's Lucinde!
- Of course. You knew her.

Yes, but I'd almost forgotten
what she looked like.

Her hair was shorter
and not tied back.

This picture
makes her look a bit severe.

No, she looks good this way.

I didn't think you were capable
of being faithful for six years.

Six years isn't long,
yet a lot has happened.

We've had occasion to break up
and make up five or six times.

Remember our first fight?
You were still in Bucharest.

Yes, but only vaguely.

We both thought
it was all over.

But the following year
I ran into her again in Beirut,

and later in Rabat,
where she was with UNICEF.

We tried to avoid each other, but
it was no use, so why not join forces?

I thought you were
dead set against marriage.

I actually was, personally,

but since our efforts
to break up kept failing,

it seemed we were meant
to stay together.

I'm marrying her because experience
has shown I can live with her.

I'm just acknowledging a fact,
not laying down some rule for myself.

When something pleases me,
I do it for pleasure.

Why tie myself down with one woman
if others still interested me?

Since I've been with Lucinde,
we've both had affairs,

and I've come to realize
that all other women leave me cold.

I can't even tell
one from another.

They're all the same.

Except friends like you.

And how's your love life going?

It's going nowhere.

Absolutely nowhere?

I've been alone for over a year.

It's a very pleasant feeling.

Perhaps once in a while,
but it can be an easy way out.

I'm like you, my dear.

If chance places a woman
in your path, you take her.

Chance insists on placing nothing
in my path, so I take nothing.

Why struggle against fate?

Solitude isn't just satisfying.
I actually relish it.

It's my greatest pleasure in life
at the moment.

And you say one should live
in accord with one's pleasure.

The garden's gone completely wild.
Something must be done.

You don't want a Versailles here.
It's nice like this.

No, certainly not Versailles,
but still...

Before these tennis courts were here,
there was a fantastic vineyard.

My grandfather made
very good wine.

There's some left in the cellar.
I'll let you taste it.

I'm looking to see if the little girl
you saw yesterday, Laura,

is coming to play
at 5:00 as usual.

It reminds me of a novel

I wanted to write
but could never finish.

It was about a man
getting on in years,

35 or 40 years old,

a diplomat, very austere,
very stern,

whose conduct
is above all suspicion.

This gentleman watches
young girls playing tennis.

Of course, as the days pass,
he gets ideas.

One day a tennis ball
falls in his garden.

He puts it in his pocket.

And when the girls come,
he pretends to look for it

among the nettles.

When they finally leave,

he goes to that lot over there,
where they're building a house,

and tosses the ball back.

But the house belongs
to a crippled old woman

who's hardly likely to be
playing this game

with budding young girls.

So the girls become intrigued.

The gentleman repeats
the little game three or four times,

and from this first folly

he descends ever closer
to the edge of madness.

What do you think of my story?
How should I finish it?

I don't know.
It's a great story.

I'm counting on you
for some ideas.

You know...

I shouldn't tell you this, but since
your armor's so impenetrable:

Laura is in love with you.

- You mean, in your novel?
- No. She told me.

Then it can't be too serious.
But if it serves as inspiration -

I'm sure you've noticed
how she looks at you.

She looks at me
very innocently.

- There are no innocents these days.
- Yes, there are.

She's a child, simple and straightforward.
That's what's so nice about her.

Besides, I can't go around
noticing every love-struck little girl.

It's your job to observe
these things.

But it wouldn't even make a good novel.
It's been done.

Just say it:
I don't inspire you.

It's true.

I've never wanted
to base a character on you.

Too dull?

Yes, though insignificant characters
can inspire good stories.

But I seldom draw
on things around me.

I'm rarely around.

All the same,
you've never inspired me.

Even if you slept with a schoolgirl
on the eve of your wedding,

you still wouldn't
be giving me a good story.

What if I didn't sleep with her?

Ah, that would make a better story.
Nothing actually has to happen.

There's always
the subject itself,

though we certainly can't write
about every possible subject.

Anyway, this one hits
too close to home.

At the moment I seem
completely incapable

of telling my own life story.

You know, I've been
in situations like yours.

I've had occasion
to be interested in young boys,

and my story
is similar to yours

inasmuch as I never
took anything to its conclusion,

meaning I was never in love
with any of them.

I could easily write this story
in relation to myself,

basing it on
my own experience,

but transposing it onto a friend.

Transpose away,
but don't expect much from me.

You're afraid!

And for no reason.
She's just a sweet little flirt.

I know. I was one myself.
She'll pull back at the last minute.

All you risk is her
becoming a nuisance.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 1ST

Nice place. Very quiet.

It's too beautiful here
to get any work done.

Is that our story?

It has to happen first
before I can write it.

And since it's not
going to happen...

Something's
always happening,

even if it's just your refusal
to admit that it is.

So I can't escape
being your guinea pig.

- Are they ripe?
- In a few days.

You should come stay with me.
It's bigger, more comfortable.

And you could observe me
at your leisure.

It would be unkind
to Mrs. Walter.

And I see too many writers
all year in Paris.

Here I live with normal people.
A good French family.

A young girl, a mother,
even a fianc�e.

They're more my guinea pigs
than you are.

I want to observe them.

And how could I dare
be with you

all alone in a big house?

You know I adore you.

Is this her room?

You see, I have the place
almost to myself.

The mother works in Nancy,

and the girls are always off
running around somewhere.

That's Claire,
the other daughter.

They don't look alike.

They're not sisters.

What do you think?
- Come on, stop it.

You were here after all?

Are you surprised?
Vacation's here - finally.

I'll leave Laura with you
and go make some fruit salad.

- Can I help?
- No, it's a secret recipe.

You happy because of vacation?

No, vacation's worse
than the rest of the year.

All my friends are gone.

Luckily, next month
I'll be in Cheltenham.

With a family. In England.

The truth is,

I'm just not sad.
That's different.

It's vacations that make me sad.

For me, vacation means
getting away, not staying put.

Anyway, I have to wait for Claire.

Claire's my sister.

Well, not really my sister.

My mother married Claire's father.

My father died.

She'll be here in a few days.

We love each other very much.

It's a pity Mother divorced.

She divorced Claire's father?

Mother's had two husbands,

and now she's all alone.

That looks great.

Vacation makes Laura sad,
and I sympathize.

What depresses me
is to be back where I grew up.

When I arrived, it felt
so oppressive that I almost left.

I have so many memories.

- And you don't want to add any more?
- Certainly not.

Do you like Sweden?

Very much, but it's not
so much the country as -

The climate.

You've said it a thousand times.
The climate agrees with you.

But let's not talk
about that again.

THURSDAY, JULY 2ND

Aurora...

yesterday afternoon

why did you stop me from mentioning
my marriage to Laura?

I didn't stop you.
What are you talking about?

You know perfectly well.

You cut me off
and talked about the climate.

But it's true.

You love the cold.
The heat's bad for you.

That's enough.

Why bring up your marriage?
You think they're interested?

The role of guinea pig
doesn't suit me at all.

I don't know
what you told that girl,

but when I see her again,
I'm going to tell her.

So tell her!

FRIDAY, JULY 3RD

I'm in Sweden
for personal reasons.

I'm getting married next month.

Even I didn't know.

Lucinde works for UNICEF.
Right now she's in Africa.

It must be hard being separated,
especially now.

They'll just be happier when
they meet again. They're used to it.

We've been separated
often these past six years.

- I hope you won't be anymore.
- No, or much less.

Besides, brief separations
bring people closer.

It's possible.

I must be too possessive.
I can't stand absence.

That's why I'm alone
after two marriages.

- Daddy died. That's different.
- In any case, I'm still alone.

- It's not your fault.
- I never said it was.

She's always contradicting me.

On the contrary,
I don't have the life I deserve.

I'm alone,
and I need to be in love.

My mistake -
if it is one -

was perhaps believing
in love too much.

You'll be happier because you don't.
- Me?

For you and people your age,
love is outdated.

I never said that. I don't care
what people my age think.

If girls are stupid,
it's not my fault.

Besides, it's not true.

There was no more love
in your day than now.

More hypocrisy, maybe,
but that's all.

Sometimes I think
you talk nonsense.

You see how she treats me?

I hate small talk.

And darn it, I can't speak
from experience on this subject.

I'm leaving.

I don't know
what got into her today.

She's never made a scene
like that before.

I think she's bored.
Her friends have all left.

She wanted to go to Corsica
with a group of friends, but I said no.

I didn't want her going so far away alone.
She's just a child.

And her sister arrives in a few days.
Then she's spending August in England.

So she has plenty
to keep her busy.

Good God, it's 2:10!
I'm due at the office by 2:30.

I'm late.

Please remind her
she has an errand to run at 3:00.

Thank you very much.

- You should go comfort her.
- What?

You heard me. You have an excuse.
Remind her about the errand.

I came to remind you
about the errand for your mother.

Did she send you?

No, Aurora did.

This is a nice spot.

Is it your special spot?
- Yes, when people upset me.

I don't mean you or Mother.

We adore each other, but she always
twists around whatever I say.

No, she was quite charming.
She made excuses for you.

She didn't say I was difficult?

Not at all.
She said only nice things.

She was even quite flattering.

I know. With other people,
she's very proud of me.

But when I'm there, I'm always wrong.
That's how she is.

She always has
to contradict people.

Usually I just go along with her.

Whatever happens,
she's my mother,

and if I argue,
I eventually have to give in.

But otherwise we get along fine.
I love her.

She loves you too.

I shouldn't have left like that.

She must be upset.
What did she say?

Oh, I don't know.

That you're mad because
she wouldn't let you go to Corsica.

She knows that's not true!
I didn't want to go.

I don't mind it here at all.

It can be a bit stifling though.

When I'm bored,
I'd rather be anywhere but here.

All my friends have left.

Maybe I should go
to Corsica after all.

It's funny. I've been feeling
just the opposite lately.

With all this beauty,
nothing gets me down.

It is beautiful,
but sometimes I feel smothered.

Then go hiking
up in the mountains.

When I was little,
Claire and I were always up there.

I know a lot of spots too.
I'll take you climbing one day.

You're not afraid of heights, are you?
- Not at all.

But it's not being hemmed in
that's so stifling.

It's too beautiful.
All this beauty can be exhausting.

You have to get away
now and then.

Just like I was saying earlier:

Lovers have to to get away
from each other now and then.

Exactly.

SATURDAY, JULY 4TH

Aurora went to Geneva.

I can't hear you.

Aurora went to Geneva.

Then you're all alone?

You must be bored.
- A little.

What are you doing?

- Reading.
- Reading what?

Nothing very interesting.

Come to my house.
I have great books.

All right. I'll get dressed
and be right back.

She's very beautiful,
but a little hard.

I pictured you
with someone less cold.

You don't think
we're a good match?

Not really,
on first impression.

You're right.
Lucinde isn't my type physically.

Though I don't really
have a type.

Looks don't matter to me.

That is, beyond a certain level
of acceptability.

All women are equal.
It's the character alone that counts.

But the character shows
in how a person looks.

What do you see?

That you're different
in character.

There you go again.
But you're right.

At your age
I had an ideal woman,

and she wasn't like Lucinde.

In body and character
she's not for me.

But then, a woman made for me
would bore me.

I'd find her tiring.

If I'm marrying Lucinde,
it's for one simple reason:

In six years of knowing her,
I've never tired of her,

nor she of me, and I see no reason
we shouldn't go on like that.

You must find this
terribly devoid of passion.

I like to feel I love
someone the very first day,

not after six years.

I don't call that love.
That's more friendship.

You think
they're really so different?

Basically, love and friendship
are the same.

No, I'm never friends
with someone I love.

Love makes me mean.

Really? Not me.

I don't believe
in love without friendship.

Maybe. But for me
friendship comes later.

Whether it's sooner or later
doesn't matter.

But friendship has something
I hope love has too:

respect for others' freedom.
It's not possessive.

I'm possessive.
Terribly possessive.

Really?
You shouldn't be.

You'll ruin your life.

I know.
I was born to be unhappy.

But no, I won't be unhappy.

I'm very happy.
I only think of positive things.

People are unhappy
because they want to be.

When I feel down,

I think about how there are happy times,
and that crying does no good anyway.

I think about how marvelous
it is to be here,

and how much fun
I'm going to have.

What do you call having fun?

Having fun is being alive.

For instance,
today I'm very happy.

Tomorrow I may be sad.

So then I make myself think
of something else.

I concentrate on one specific thing
and how fantastic it is,

and I'm happy
for the rest of the day.

But if I'm in love, I might -

You might what?

When I'm in love,
it occupies me totally,

and I forget that
I'm happy to be alive.

You mustn't forget.

You mustn't sacrifice life
or happiness for love.

But I think you're
sensible enough to know that.

- Really?
- Really.

I'm going to tell you a secret.

In fact, I'm not happy
when I'm in love. I hate it.

I stamp my feet.
Nothing interests me. I stop living.

It's no fun at all.
- See? I was right.

Wasn't I?

These are beautiful.
I'll pick you a nice bouquet.

What will Mother say?

It's innocent enough
to offer a girl roses.

She'd think it was ridiculous,
and she'd be right.

Then you give them to her.

- Give them to her when you come over.
- That was my plan.

- Give me this one.
- Which one?

This one here.

- Just one?
- That's right.

- It's not for your mother?
- No, it'll go in my room.

- What will you tell her?
- That you gave it to me.

She won't think that's ridiculous?

No, she'll think
just one is very nice.

But -

- But what?
- Nothing.

SUNDAY, JULY 5TH

Careful of the thorns.

Mr. Jacques Desmarais,
a friend and neighbor.

Mr. Montcharvin.

Roses from your garden?

Yes. They've opened a bit,
but they smell nice.

I prefer them that way.

I had a choice of two houses.

This one,
and one on the other shore.

I took this one for the view,
but now I'm sorry.

I don't like living
at the foot of the mountain.

Why?

It makes me uneasy.

I'd prefer to live
on the other shore too.

It affords a better view
of the most imposing mountains:

the Tournette,
the Dents de Lanfont.

They're very majestic,
very impressive mountains.

It's that majesty that stifles me.

I don't agree.

A mountain is most beautiful
viewed right from its base.

It's like a cradle.

It's as if it's protecting us.

You mean threatening
and crushing us.

In any case, this house is
too low to see anything.

I'll show you the best place, near
the Col de I'Aulp. Have you been there?

Yes, when I was young.

Why don't we go?

It's not too far.
A three-hour hike at the most.

Three hours?

Very well. If you wish.

She's taking advantage
of your good nature.

No, I have nothing to do,
and I'd like to go for a hike.

If we have time,

we can climb to the top
of the Tournette.

We should leave
in the afternoon

and sleep
at the mountain inn.

It just reopened
a few days ago.

Laura, you're going too far.

Really, Mother? Don't you want
the two of us sleeping at the inn?

It's settled then.
Come by for me tomorrow.

All right.

Have a nice hike.

Good things come in threes.

I don't know if I should
entrust her to you.

She's in love with you.

No, she's just playing.

It's a dangerous game.

She knows I'm getting married.

I'm just kidding.
And anyway,

I'm glad it's with
someone so level-headed.

I'm not so sure.

I hope you're counting more
on your daughter's level-headedness.

Surely a man getting married
in a month is level-headed, isn't he?

I suspect Laura
is thinking the same thing.

Let's hope so.

MONDAY, JULY 6TH

This is the nicest spot.

Dead in the center
of the ring of mountains.

You can't see the house.

No, it's behind the pine trees.

Let's stay like this.
Are you okay?

Yes.

Really?

Really.

Would you rather be
with your fianc�e?

Well... sure.

Just "well, sure"? I hope you're
a lot happier with her than with me.

Well, yes,
since I'll be leaving you for her.

If I were happier with you,
I'd stay with you.

But how should I know
if I'd be happier with you?

And what's the point
in comparing?

I feel good.

You know, young lady,

I find your behavior quite reckless.

In your shoes,
I wouldn't be so trusting.

I'm not trusting,

but I need to enrich
my experience.

I take calculated risks.
You're taking a greater risk than I am.

You're practically married.
I'm a free woman.

But I'm free too.

I respect Lucinde's freedom,
and she respects mine.

I let her do
exactly as she pleases,

hoping, or rather knowing

that she won't do anything
to upset me.

If everything one person liked
upset the other,

it would be crazy
to live together, no?

Would she be pleased
to know you're with me?

Of course.

She knows my feelings
are purely platonic.

We certainly allow
for friends in our lives.

Aurora, for example?

Well, yes.

I really like her.
She's extremely nice.

- Have you two spoken about me?
- Of course.

What did she say?

That I should be careful
around you.

Let go of me!

Very well.
No more fun and games?

No, I'd like
to be in love for real,

with a boy who loves me
and whom I love.

Young lady, you have
your whole life ahead of you.

You sound like my mother.

I always thought
I'd get married very young.

Some girls get married at 16.

They're the exception,
and I can't say I approve.

I don't see why you'd want
to get married now.

- Did you know Mother's remarrying?
- Really?

Her friend
from dinner last night?

I think I'd have a hard time
living with them.

You have your studies
ahead of you.

You can live alone in Grenoble,
Lyons, or even Paris.

Of course.

I want to tell you something.

No, step back
so you're not so close.

You know, I think I fell
a little bit in love with you.

If someone like you were
to come along and carry me off

and he really loved me,

I think I'd go with him.

What would your mother say?

She'd be delighted.

Not with someone my age.

Age doesn't matter to me.

I've never been able
to love a boy my age.

TUESDAY, JULY 7TH

I don't like people my own age.

I don't know why.
I think they're stupid.

You know,
I may look like a little kid,

but appearances
can be deceiving.

I'm really quite mature
for my age.

After Mother divorced,
she began confiding in me.

I quickly grew more mature
than other girls my age.

My friends are
much more childish than me.

I could easily
see myself married -

not that I intend
to run off and marry right away.

I don't see why a girl your age
would want to get married.

This isn't the time of Louis XIV.

And your mother lets you do
whatever you want.

Not so fast.

Mother's much stricter
than you think.

And I admit
she's right to be.

She gives me advice,
which irritates and annoys me -

but I often find she's right.

She's right because...

Because?

Because I'm really crazy.

There are times when I'm capable
of absolutely anything.

But I love my mother very much,

and I know it would
make her unhappy.

So I behave myself.

I send all the boys away.

I've forged
a tough attitude for myself.

I could easily be crazy.
It would suit my nature.

For now,
I'm among the sane,

but one tiny step
and I could join the crazies.

Why don't I do it?

Mother's presence
holds me back.

But if I had a father,

like Claire's, for example,

it would push me
in the other direction.

So Claire's crazier than you?

No, Claire's in love with a boy
who spends summers here.

You'll see.
They're always together.

I've never really been
in love with any boy.

That's what worries me.

That's not true.
Once, when I was young.

Very young.

I loved a boy
when I was 12 1/2.

I can't say it ever came to much,
but I loved him.

But since him, no one, really.

So your love life
ended four years ago.

Now I want
to really love someone,

but I only see boys my age,

and they scare me.

It's an instinctive reaction.

They scare you how?

It's instinctive, I tell you.

Self-preservation.

The more handsome the boy,
the more he scares me.

You mean you're afraid
you'll give in?

No, it's -

It's less defined than that.

Young boys tend to insist.

A boy is nice,
so I go for a walk with him,

if I'm bored, for instance.

When I'm bored, I think
I'm in love with whomever I'm with.

What bothers me is that,
after a while,

he thinks he's something special.
He tells everyone, "She loves me."

He starts acting like a king.
Then it's over.

I don't feel safe
with young boys.

I only feel comfortable with a man
old enough to be my father.

Must be a lack
of fatherly affection.

In an older man it's like
I've found my father again.

I want to share in what he does,
give him my opinion.

I want to be with him always.

I want to be small next to him,
and it feels good.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 8TH

Are you Claire?

Is Laura here?
- No, Vincent just came to get her.

- Who?
- Vincent, a friend.

Is Aurora still in Geneva?

I think so.
I haven't seen her.

Then you're all alone?

You live in Paris?

You're lucky. It's a nice day.
- Very nice.

I guess I should
come back this evening.

Yes, do that.

- Gilles!
- How are you?

You look great.

- Who's that guy?
- Some friend of our lodger.

Where did you get your suntan?

- At the pool in Paris.
- Great!

THURSDAY, JULY 9TH

Is that all you're going
to tell me?

I ran some errands
in Geneva, that's all.

The rest is
top diplomatic secret.

But I certainly hope
you have lots to tell me.

Yes and no.

Nothing happened.
Or very little.

But since
it's your only inspiration -

Yes, sir,
I can be mysterious too.

It's a professional secret.

He's my guinea pig.

You can give me
all the details tomorrow.

FRIDAY, JULY 10TH

Quit it!

Who's that she's with?

Vincent. He's a friend.

You know, the only way
to get to me is through my curiosity.

I wanted to know if this little girl
was making fun of me

in keeping with a script
of your making.

When I kissed her
the other day to find out,

I really had to force myself.

When I took her hand,

not as you take the hand
of an old friend or a child,

I thought about the pleasure
of touching it,

and it bothered me.

We walked hand in hand,

and it weighed on me,
not like some sin,

but because
it was so pointless.

By being interested in another woman,
I don't betray Lucinde.

I just waste my time.

Lucinde is everything.
You can't add to everything.

Then why the experiment?

To please you.

I was obeying you.

And to see the experiment fail.

You can never be sure
of anything.

If I kept away from women,
didn't let myself talk to them,

didn't look at them,
even avoided their advances...

then...

my love for Lucinde
would feel

like a duty
rather than a pleasure.

I'm marrying Lucinde

because I enjoy being with her
and not some other woman.

Will has nothing
to do with it.

If I wasn't convinced
of that before, I am now.

But the will always has
to play some part in love.

I like it to be
a very small part.

And to discover, as I did the other day,
just how small a part it is...

is a delightful feeling,
believe me.

SATURDAY, JULY 1 1TH

I'll be ready in three minutes.
Be patient.

So with girls
it can only be love?

With girls
it can only be physical,

or if there's friendship,
it comes later.

But the first connection
is physical.

So friendship can come after love?

Yes, because then you get
into the realm of the absolute and -

With Laura, for instance?

Laura's different.
I'm not her type at all.

She goes for big, well-built,

athletic guys,
and I'm kind of the opposite.

So why are you with her?

We're friends. Classmates.

It didn't look that way to me.

There's nothing going on.
Really.

I'm sure
she's not in love with you.

One more reason
nothing's going on.

But you might -

I haven't thought about it,
and I don't want to.

I know exactly
what type she likes,

and I don't want
to get involved in her scene.

I want to be liked right away.
I don't want to get into courting her.

But you could win her over.
She might find you -

No, I can just tell
there's no chance.

Girls can surprise you.

Sure, you never know.
Women are kind of weird.

But so far, nothing.
- Do you see Laura as a girlfriend?

No, we're friends, that's all.

Maybe a tiny bit of affection
when I look at her,

because I like
to make love gently.

Caress her nose
and all that.

You've mixed it all together:
love, friendship -

I don't know.
With her it's something special.

Don't listen to him.
He's nuts.

You coming?
- Is the water nice?

It's great. Come on.

You're not coming?
- No, thanks. It's too cold for me.

You sure took your time.
I hope they'll wait.

I had to finish
this letter to my father.

I can't believe it took an hour.
What could you be writing?

What's it to you?
I'll do as I please.

We've got to hurry.
I warn you, next time I'm not waiting.

Fine, go by yourself.
You don't need me.

That's just great!
Good-bye.

- I'll pick you up at 3:00.
- You do that.

Come on.

Are you mad?

Really mad?

SUNDAY, JULY 12TH

Aurora! Put your pen down

and come enjoy
the pleasures of the countryside.

I'll finish this page
and be right there.

Laura...

could you get me
another basket?

You're gonna ruin them.

- Are you sure they're ripe?
- They're great.

Let me taste.

Here.

They're sour.

Want to try these?

This one should be good.

This one's great.

I'll pick some more.
- I'll put them in my hat.

You want one?

I can't reach them.

- Are they ripe?
- They're very good.

Throw a couple in my hat,
just to taste.

Not bad.

Wait, I'll help you.

Stop it.
You'll make me fall.

- Are there others?
- This one's great.

It's too long.
That's not quite it.

The Greeks
were really something!

No, the beard can't be too long.

This one.

- I don't like it.
- You don't like beards.

I had a fantastic beard once,
but it was too much work.

What's the story there?

TUESDAY, JULY 1 4TH

- Bastille Day is really something, huh?
- It's great!

Some people are getting
a little wild.

This isn't a dance for me.
I'm too old.

Shall we dance another?

- Care to dance?
- I'm too tired.

Just a few steps.

I leave tomorrow morning.

And why's that?

Because I met you!

Off on business again.
Just my luck.

THURSDAY, JULY 16TH

Nice shot.

- You played well.
- Not bad.

You're getting better.

- You're not playing?
- No, today I'm just a spectator.

Right into the net.

He's as bad as you.

Yeah, looks like my style.
I bet I win.

- I'd be surprised.
- You'll see.

- What are they doing?
- He's getting the ball.

That guy misses every shot.

FRIDAY, JULY 1 7TH

I much prefer your company
to a tennis game.

Besides, I have to lecture you.

You involve me in experiments, yet you
shrink from any adventures yourself.

Yours haven't gotten you
very far.

I'm just passing through.
My life is elsewhere.

For you this is serious.
It's your life.

I'm just passing through too.

Not for long, I trust.

It saddens me to see you lose
the bloom of youth.

The bloom of youth
comes and goes.

Listen, find a guy
and stop complaining.

I'll bet you I find one
before the year is out.

- What makes you think that?
- My coffee grounds.

Find a guy.
Who? Where?

Where are these guys
to be found?

All over the place.
Like on Bastille Day.

Oh, Bastille Day.

Admit it.
You found him attractive.

But I find all men attractive.
That's why I can't pick one.

Why one and not another?

I need a reason
to choose one specific man.

Since I can't have them all,
I prefer to do without any.

That's quite unnatural,
and quite immoral.

Hardly immoral,
since it keeps me chaste.

Should I throw myself
at the first guy who comes along?

Where would that lead?
What good would it do?

I didn't say
the first guy to come along.

If he's supposed to come,
he'll come.

Even here?

Here's as good a place as any.

You seem to think
I need to hurry.

To hear you talk,
you'd think I was an old woman.

Well, let me tell you something.

Last year I wanted to test
my charms on very young boys.

The young generation
is a complete unknown to me.

Incomprehensible.
A total mystery.

I settled on the number five
in one week.

Five!

Actually, I had three.

Very handsome, all of them.

Did you enjoy it,
apart from the glory of conquest?

It was very nice.
I could have gone on.

But since it was a matter of ego,

and ego is quickly satisfied,

in this area, at least,

I prefer to wait.

I know how to wait.

Waiting is pleasant
in and of itself.

Sure, if it doesn't
go on too long.

Don't worry.

Your story is actually
more interesting than mine.

No, your relationships
with young girls interest me more.

They're harder to pin down.

Then you're in luck.
My little affair is evaporating.

Nothing's happening.
I have nothing to tell.

Is she trying to make me jealous
with her friend? I don't think so.

Her experiment is over,
and so is mine - period.

She'll take up her old ways,
and I mine.

You know -

What?

Nothing.

I find it amusing that you're no longer
in charge of the story. I am.

I have an idea,
but I'm afraid my ideas -

No, tell me.

You have to guess.

It's only an idea,
not a proven fact.

I'm such an obliging guinea pig
that I went a step further.

Putting myself
in my character's place,

I thought of something he might feel
that I don't really feel.

Actually, I don't feel anything.

You know, I'm through
running after girls. All of them.

That's right.
Young and old.

I'm speaking of me personally.

But I've said too much already.
Can't you figure it out?

You mean you personally
have reached the end of the story,

but I hope not
for the character.

He'll carry on.

No, I'm speaking of me.

The character is through too,
with that experiment at least.

Then it's all over?

In that regard, yes. But -

But what?

Actually, I shouldn't expect you
to guess something

that's purely
an idea in my head.

And in fact, it's not
a completely pure idea.

Laura suspects it, I'm sure.

The problem is that,
by going on about it,

I give it too much importance.

I'd rather you guess.

But you never will,
so I'll give you a hint.

It's over... with Laura.

You said that already.
So what?

It's over... with Laura.

Claire! My word!

You don't mean
that Claire too is -

No, it's just an idea.

Not that she's in love with me,
but that I'm interested in her.

It's classic.
She loves someone else.

It's not just that. If she didn't intrigue me,
why would I care about that?

Let's say she disturbs my character,
and me too, to a small extent.

So small I wouldn't mention it,
if you weren't so interested.

She disturbs you?
How? Her body?

Yes, the way she looks,
since it's all I know about her.

We've hardly ever spoken.

I'd find it quite difficult
to talk to her.

Well, well.
She intimidates you.

I feel absolutely powerless
around girls like that.

You know what I mean?

Some very attractive boys
have that affect on me.

I'm amused
you'd admit that you're shy.

But I am very shy.

Usually I'm spared
having to take the first step.

I've never pursued a girl
if she wasn't favorably disposed.

What about this one?

With this one
it's very strange.

She arouses a desire in me
that's real yet has no purpose

and is all the stronger
because of it.

Pure desire.
A desire for nothing.

I don't wish to act on it,
but it bothers me to feel it.

I didn't think I'd ever desire
a woman again.

And I don't even really want her.
If she threw herself at me, I'd refuse.

Jealousy?

But even though I don't want her,
I feel I have...

some sort of claim on her.

A claim born from
the very strength of my desire.

It's a feeling I felt long ago

that I suddenly find
very vivid today.

The turmoil she arouses in me

gives me a sort of right over her.

You know,

I'm convinced
I deserve her more than anyone.

Yesterday, for instance,
at the tennis court...

I was watching
those two lovers,

and I thought to myself that every woman
has her most vulnerable point.

For some, it's the nape of the neck,
the waist, the hands.

For Claire, in that position,
in that light,

it was her knee.

It was the magnetic pole of my desire,
the precise point where,

if I could pursue this desire,
I'd have placed my hand.

And right there is where
her boyfriend had his hand.

In all his innocence
and insipidness.

That hand was above all insipid,
and that shocked me.

It's very simple.
Place your hand on her knee.

That will exorcise the desire.

It's not simple at all.
That's the hardest thing to do.

A caress has to be accepted.

It would be easier to seduce her.

MONDAY, JULY 20TH

Gilles is playing great!

Come on, sweetie.

Basically,
I love thin, delicate girls.

All the girls I've known and loved

were too hardy,
in my opinion.

Hardy?

Lucinde, for example,
is quite athletic,

though in a way
I rather like her sporty side.

But if I had a woman
made to order,

I think I'd give Claire's
measurements.

Yes, she has a lovely figure.

I think she'll grow to be
a very beautiful woman.

I mean she'll fill out
in all the right places.

You know,
all these slender, pretty girls -

I'm sure you've noticed.
At 30, very few are still beautiful.

But I think Claire

will stand up to the onslaught.

But it's not too late.

If she suits you,
you're still single.

Marry her.

Looks aren't
all that important to me.

I told you: If she came to me,
I'd turn her down.

But I'd like to turn her down
of my own choice.

But it's been my misfortune

that whenever
I've desired a woman,

I haven't gotten her.

All my conquests
have come as a surprise -

to my surprise.

Desire followed possession.

Hit it here.

What's the matter?

Did you hurt yourself?

What's the matter?
Say something.

- You hit my finger. It hurts!
- Show me!

It's nothing.
I told you to use your fingertips.

I wasn't paying attention.

Show me.
You shouldn't be playing if -

Does it hurt?
Aurora'll take care of you.

The ball crushed my finger.

Sorceress, can you heal it?

- There's nothing broken.
- No, I don't think so.

It's all right.

It just needs some massage.

A little massage.
That's all.

I'll get you some fruit juice.

Does it still hurt?

A little.
Nothing too serious.

- Let's put some arnica on it.
- Don't bother. It'll go away.

I had the same thing once.

It turned all blue,
and they had to amputate.

You weren't too hot
playing volleyball?

No, there's a breeze.

- You like volleyball?
- Not at all.

Then why were you playing?

To make Gilles happy.

To make Gilles happy.

So when Gilles
wants something, you do it?

Not always.

You shouldn't do
everything boys ask.

I don't do
everything boys ask.

Feeling better?

You want to play?
- In a while.

All right.

THURSDAY, JULY 23RD

Please keep away
from the shore!

This is a campground.
- What?

Keep away
from the shore, please.

- Calm down, gramps!
- Mind your manners!

Watch your language!

Move away from the shore!

Is that your boat, sir?

Kindly tell your friends
to stay further out.

I'm the camp director,
and campers have complained.

I'm very sorry.
I'll speak to them.

They were rude to me too.

Please forgive them.
They're just kids.

I told them to stay away from the shore.
It won't happen again.

You can count on me.
Thank you.

What's the matter?

I'm warning you for the last time,
or there'll be trouble.

What?

Campers are complaining
that you come in too close.

I'm the camp director.

First of all,
this is private property.

Secondly,
we were 60 feet away.

There were people
swimming there.

This is ridiculous.
You're being absurd.

Watch your language,
or there'll be trouble!

He's stronger than you.
You looking for a fight?

That guy is completely nuts.

We were way out.
I don't know why he's screaming.

I'm not gonna lend you
the boat anymore.

Oh, come on!

What do you mean?
You're not being reasonable.

I asked you to stay further out,
but no, you harass the campers.

We didn't harass them!

We were 60 feet away, right?
- We were far from the shore.

When this guy points it out,
you insult him.

If it had come to blows,

Claire might have gotten hit.

You're being inconsiderate.
Mrs. Walter doesn't need these problems.

Mrs. Walter doesn't care.
Isn't that right?

Mrs. Walter?

What's my mother
got to do with you?

Keep out of this.
I'm talking to your sister and Gilles.

I heard: He took the boat.
What did you do with it?

He claims we were too close to shore.
He yelled at us for nothing.

It wasn't for nothing.
He asked you to keep 60 feet away.

There were people swimming.

Those campers again!
Great!

I hope you gave them
a hard time.

Listen to the little brat!

They throw trash on our lawn
and do other things to the house.

They open the gate
and walk right in!

They're horrible.
You did the right thing!

No, they didn't.
And I'll tell your mother about your tone.

Please do.
She'll agree with me.

No, she's sure to side with me.

Let's just drop it.
This house is nothing but problems.

Nothing but problems?

Anyway, you're a guest here.

So?

Guests can speak up too.
- If Mother has something to say -

Go back to your homework!
Off you go!

FRIDAY, JULY 24TH

Are you catching the ferry?

No, I'm on my way
back to the house.

I can take you.
I could say hello to Aurora.

She went to Annecy.

When are we going boating
or mountain climbing?

The Tournette was
our last excursion, wasn't it?

Yes, but I'm busy.
I'm having lunch with Mother's friends.

- Really?
- Afraid so.

Then tomorrow, if you like.

Tomorrow's no good either.

I'm leaving for England the day after,
and I have to pack.

Too bad.

I'm serious. Our beautiful
friendship sputtered out.

No, we see each other
every day.

I don't know
what more you want.

I'd hoped for something more,
that's all.

I think it's fine as it is.

And if there wasn't "more,"
as you put it, it's your fault.

Oh, really?

You always keep to yourself.

I didn't want to bother you.
You were with friends.

You're not that old.
You should have joined us.

I don't like them much. You don't
choose your friends very carefully.

I keep trying
to get rid of Vincent.

It's not him I mind.
It's Gilles.

Gilles is my sister's friend.
I don't criticize her choices.

Besides, he's fine.
They make a good couple.

Not at all. She's a hundred times
better than him.

You hate him
because he's not afraid of you.

You're crazy.
I like people who have character.

But his toughness is all show,
the worst kind.

Claire should drop him.
Open her eyes.

She loves him,
and she's right to.

And what's it to you anyway?

I just mentioned it.
No reason, really.

That's right:
You're jealous for no reason.

Then again...

Then again?

No, nothing.

Take me home.

SUNDAY, JULY 26TH

Let me help you.
Those are heavy.

In the trunk?
- No, it's too small. In the back seat.

- The little one too?
- Yes. Thank you.

- When do you leave?
- In three days.

Then we won't see each other again.
I'll be in Geneva a week.

So you're really
getting married?

I wish you every happiness.

Thank you.
Let me kiss you.

See you soon.

- Claire darling, we're leaving.
- I'm coming.

Be good.
I leave her to you, Aurora.

- Are we leaving now?
- Yes, darling.

- Don't forget my records.
- I won't.

- Will you write to me?
- I never write.

Just a few lines.

Send me a postcard.
I might answer it.

All right.

You have the number in Geneva.
Call if you need anything.

Have a good trip.

TUESDAY, JULY 28TH

- Is Aurora here?
- No, she went for a walk.

Would you please remind her
about dinner tonight at my place?

All right.

I'll pick her up at 8:00.

Are you going to Annecy
by any chance?

No, I just came from there.

Why?

Oh, nothing.

Do you want to go?

No, it's not important.

I can take you.
I could run another errand.

You sure it wouldn't be
a bother?

But cover up.
The weather's changing.

I'll get a jacket.

It's clouding over.
We'd better take cover.

I think this rain's
gonna last another hour.

Even if it clears up,
I couldn't take you into town.

You'll miss your appointment.

What appointment?

You wanted to go to Annecy.
I thought you had an appointment.

Oh, right. I had to drop
a note off at Gilles' place.

Isn't he home?

No, he left this morning
to visit his mother in Grenoble.

Well, well.

He'll be back late, and since
he's coming by tomorrow,

I wanted to leave him word this evening.
It's nothing important.

You wanted to go just for that?

You said it was no bother,
that you had an errand to run anyway.

Never mind.
It's not important.

Listen, maybe it's none
of my business,

but you're letting this boy
take advantage of you.

He didn't ask me to go.
I wanted to.

All the more reason.

You'd go to the ends
of the earth for him.

You shouldn't let boys
lead you around.

Especially a boy like him.

- You don't know him.
- I know him well enough.

Sure, if you believe
the camp director.

That's not it.
I just don't know what you see in him.

He's far beneath you.

He's just fine, and I'm not
interested in your opinion.

You're right.
I should mind my own business.

I was never interested in you
or your sister, and I'm getting married,

so it makes no difference to me.

But it bothers me

to see such a charming girl
with such an oaf.

Now, if you took him in hand -

You could have
all the boys at your feet.

Make the most of it!

He's fine.
He doesn't play up to you

like Aurora, Mother,
Laura and all the others.

It shows character.
He never kowtows to anyone.

Your opinion
means nothing to me.

What Gilles was doing this afternoon -
does that mean nothing to you too?

I didn't want to tell you,
but you should know, for your own good.

You love Gilles,
but are you sure he loves you?

What's it to you?
It's none of your business!

So you're not sure?

Of course I am.

Then why was he kissing a girl
this afternoon in Annecy?

What girl?

You know her.
She plays tennis.

Her name is Marielle.

Ah, Muriel. She's a friend.
He has every right to see her.

Of course. As I said,
I saw him this afternoon.

So he lied to you.
He's not in Grenoble.

Maybe he was delayed.

Sure. Maybe he was.

He held her close
as they strolled along.

Nothing wrong in that.

And no one's forcing him
to go to Grenoble.

So forget what I said.
- Be quiet!

Fine, but you're acting strange.

You say he's in Grenoble when he's not.
Of course I'm surprised.

He can do as he likes.
It's none of your business.

Don't take it like that.
I was just telling you -

Be quiet!

Here.

It stopped raining.

We should try to get back.

She kept crying and had no handkerchief,
so I gave her mine.

She wiped her eyes and handed it back.
I motioned for her to keep it.

I'm sure at that moment
she must have hated me.

If I'd tried to touch her or said a word,
she'd have cried, "Leave me alone."

So I just sat there for a while,

watching her snivel away
and feeling very awkward,

pleased I'd landed my blow
but appalled at my own behavior.

I was ashamed to have made her cry.
Or rather, I felt ashamed for her.

She must have felt ashamed,
breaking down before a stranger.

And it embarrassed me all the more,
since I felt she'd refuse any consolation.

She'd never have let me

take her hand or her shoulder,
or hold her tight.

At least that's what I thought.

So she sat facing me,

one leg stretched out,
the other bent.

Her knee was sharp,
narrow, smooth, delicate,

within reach.

Within reach of my hand.

I had only to extend my arm
to touch her knee.

It would have been reckless,
the one thing I shouldn't do,

and yet the easiest thing
in the world.

Yet even knowing
how easy and simple it would be,

it felt impossible too.

Like being one step
from the edge of a cliff,

but even if you want to jump,
you can't.

It took courage, you know.
A great deal of courage.

I've never done anything as courageous,
or at least as willful.

It's the only time I ever
accomplished an act of pure will.

I've never felt so strongly that I was
doing something that had to be done.

I had to.
I'd promised you.

All right, go on.

Talk.
I won't say a word.

I put my hand on her knee
in one quick move

that gave her
no time to react.

The precision of my gesture
prevented her parry.

She simply looked at me,

indifferently,
with little trace of hostility.

But she said nothing.

She didn't push me away
or move her leg.

Why? I don't know.
Or maybe I do.

If I'd caressed her with a finger,
tried to stroke her brow,

she'd certainly have pulled back.

But my gesture
was too unexpected.

She thought it was the beginning
of an attack, but it never came,

so she felt reassured.

What do you think?

A nicely told story.

Pity I don't know shorthand,
or I'd have taken it down.

But what the hell do you care
what she thought?

You made such a perfect,
sculptural tableau.

What do your thoughts matter?

You know I hate
making girls cry.

But she needed a lesson.
I had to open her eyes.

It was my good deed for the day.

But if I'd felt I was shocking her,
even a little,

I'd have pulled my hand back,

blushing.

It's true. But not only
did I not shock her,

I even did her some good.

What I considered
a gesture of desire

she took to be
a gesture of consolation.

A sort of peace came over me,

mixed with fear at being unable
to control the moment.

A charming story,

but perfectly banal.

There's nothing perverse there
aside from what you see in it.

On the contrary.
The results are highly moral.

On the one hand,
I broke the spell I told you about.

On the other, I'm no longer
obsessed with the girl's body.

It's as if I'd had her.
I'm fulfilled.

At the same time,
I did a good deed.

I got her away
from that boy for good.

I don't think I could have
experienced such perfect pleasure

it it weren't
for the good deed I was doing.

She'll end up
with someone worse.

I don't think so.

She learned a lesson.
She'll be more careful.

What amuses me is that
you can't stand the idea

of a woman
escaping your clutches.

I freely admit that some women
escape my clutches.

You, for example.

- I'm not in the game.
- That's what bothers me.

To you, I'm just a guinea pig,
while to me, you're a great friend.

Everything I've done was out
of friendship for you, and you know it.

Laura was for me?
Claire was for me?

I hope Lucinde isn't!

What time do you leave tomorrow?
- Ten o'clock.

You'll come say good-bye!

Of course.

You won't believe me,
but if not for you,

nothing would have happened, even
if I'd met these girls some other way.

You know I believe you.

And nothing more will happen,
since you'll no longer be around.

Thanks to you,
I reached the ultimate delight.

There's nothing more
I want to happen.

I'm fulfilled.

And Lucinde?

Ah, Lucinde.
You're back to her.

Well, exactly.
Now everything will be for Lucinde.

The rest, the other girls -
all that was swept away, obliterated.

You're a magician.

- Did you doubt it?
- Not for a moment,

or I wouldn't have placed my fate
so recklessly in your hands.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 29TH

Say good-bye to Claire for me.

- Shall I wake her?
- No, I have nothing to say to her.

Be good.
Write to me.

You be good too.

You'll be all alone in Paris.
Try to find yourself a guy.

All alone? Not at all!

What do you mean?

You have a lover?

A fianc�.

You never said a word.

I tell you everything,
and you keep me in the dark.

You never asked.

Besides, you know him.
I introduced you.

The guy who drove you back
from Geneva?

Not bad.

How are you?

Very well, thanks.
And you?

All right.

Is Claire here?

Yes, but I think she's sleeping.

Ah, here she comes.

You were awake after all?

How was Grenoble?
Is your mother better?

I actually ended up not going.

I'll explain.

I had problems with my car keys
and I couldn't -

I lost three hours.
Then I thought I'd take the train -

- You could have let me know.
- I couldn't take the train either.

I tried to call, but every time -

There's always some way
to get in touch.

No, there wasn't.
By this time it was 5:00.

It made no sense.
I called, but there was no answer.

So I decided to stay in Annecy.
I had a dinner to go to anyway.

What were you doing with Muriel?

- You know how she is.
- But still!

She went on for an hour
about her problems.

She was sad, and I consoled her
for an hour. That's all.

You know her as well as I do.

Sure, but that's no excuse.

Listen, it doesn't -

Are you mad?
- It doesn't matter.

Come sit on my lap.

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