The Diving Bell and the Butterfly Page #3

Today it seems to me that my whole life

was nothing but a string of failures.

the women I was unable to love,

the chances I failed to seize...

...the moments of happiness

I allowed to drift away...

A race whose result you know

beforehand...

...but in which you fail to bet on

the winner.

Have I been blind or stupid?

Or does it take the harsh light of disaster

to to show a person their true nature?

I'm still here.

Would you like me to work with you today?

Good.

We're going to master this.

Do you agree?

- Yes, mistress.

Ok.

I'll begin.

T?

H?

A?

K? Thank you.

Thank you?

Thank you.

May I call you Jean-Do?

- Women are not complicated.

Thank you, Jean-Do.

I?

I have?

I have decided not feel sorry

for myself again.

Apart from my eyes, there two more

things that aren't paralysed.

My imagination...

...and my memory.

My imagination and my memory are the

only way I can escape my diving bell.

I can imagine anything, anyone, anywhere

I let the sea wash over me

on the isle of Martinique.

Visit the women I love.

Bow before Ozym Andias, king of kings.

I can imagine anything.

As a child I dreamed

of my abilities as an adult.

Now I want to remember myself as I was.

Handsome, debonair, glamorous.

And devilishly attractive

Yes, glamorous and

handsome, some people said.

That's not me, that's Marlon Brando.

That's me.

Is this Betty Mialet?

- Yes, this is she.

My name is Henritte Durand. I'm a therapist

at Berck-sur-Mer Naval Hospital.

I'm calling on behalf of one of my patients,

Jean-Dominique Bauby.

Jean-Do? How is he?

Comfortable but...

- I heard he's completely paralyzed.

That he can't communicate with anybody.

- That's not absolutely accurate.

Come in.

He wants me to ask you for a favour.

Of course. Can you wait a minute?

Anything.

He says he has a contract

with you for a book.

He said that? He can speak, I thought he

couldn't speak.

He can. In a way. I'll explain later.

About this book...

- Yes, he's got a contract with us,

but now, given the circumstances...

- He wants to fulfill it.

He wants to write the book.

- You can't be serious?

Let me assure you, he can.

but do you think you can

find someone to take his dictation?

Someone who's patient.

Somebody with a lot of time.

Someone special.

Yes, I understand. I'll get back to you.

Betty Mialet said Claude Mendibil

was sent from heaven.

She said no one could be

more perfect for this.

Betty always exaggerates.

I will have to practise with Henritte.

Any time.

He wants to say something.

No?

No panic.

Claude has taken a room in a hotel.

Perhaps you ought to discuss a routine.

The nurses wake me at five a.m.

I'll think of what I want to write.

You can come at eight

then I'll dictate it to you.

Good. I'll do my best for you.

- I know you will.

Can we begin tomorrow??

- Of course.

Through?

- Through the frayed

curtain of my window...

...a wan glow announces the break of day.

My heels hurt, my head weighs a ton

my whole body is encased

in a kind of diving suit.

My task now is to write

the motionless travel notes...

...from a castaway

on the shores of loneliness.

This Naval Hospital has in its time been a

home to children with tuberculosis

In the hall, there's a white marble bust...

...of Empress Eugnie,

the wife of Napoleon III...

...the hospital's patroness.

She came here regularly.

There was a fat farm,

a school and a place where

...the great Diaghilev

rehearsed his Ballet Russe..

They say it was here that Nijinsky leapt

twelve feet into the air.

No one here now leaps into the air.

These days they are all elderly, enfeebled

or, like me, rigid and mute.

A battalion of cripples.

But I like being wheeled to the

place I call Cinecitta.

A perpetually deserted

terrace, a vast series

of balconies that open

onto a landscape...

...heavy with the poetic and offbeat

charm of a movie set.

A handful of buildings at

the foot of the sand dunes

give the illusion of a

ghost town in a Western.

And I enjoy seeing the suburbs of Berck

that look like a model train lay-out..

The sea foams such an

incandescent white that it might

be the product of the

special-effects department.

But my favorite sight of all

is the lighthouse.

tall, robust, reassuring

in red and white stripes..

I place myself under the

protection of this brotherly symbol...

...guardian not just of sailors

but of the sick...

...whom fate has cast

to the far edge of life.

The two highlights of this mini museum

are a white marble bust...

...which embodies the radiant youth

...of a princess who died with 94...

Five hours of work. Doesn't sound bad.

It's not Balzac.

Shall I continue?

- Read Balzac to me.

Or Graham Greene.

[Laurent reading Graham Greene's

The Honorary Consul]

I'm 45 divorced,

and I want to speak the consul.

What's that?

- Is it a man or a woman?

A man. I think.

- He winked at you.

Excuse me,

but did you order a speaker phone?

Did you order a phone?

Let's get out of here.

Who let you in? What are you doing?

We're from Telecom France.

You should have gone to Reception first.

- There was no one there.

Just install it by the table,

please, thank you.

Be careful, please.

We'll let people know

you've got a phone now.

They'll have to book

a time for their calls.

We'll make sure someone's with you.

Excuse me, madame, can't he speak?

- Don't talk about him

as if he weren't here.

Ask him.

Madame, excuse me, but, if he can't

speak what's he want a phone for?

Perhaps he's a heavy breather.

You think you're funny?

How dare you!

You miss a sense of humor, Henritte.

And three. Calm, four.

A very black fly settles on my nose.

I waggle my head to unseat him. He digs in..

Olympic wrestling is child's play

compared to this.

You moved your head.

When did you start doing that?

Thank you.

Just now?

A miracle! You can turn your head!

Marie sees miracles everywhere.

- Dr. Lepage, he moved his head.

Good morning.

- A miracle! He only

said good morning once!

Progress, progress.

- That's better.

How's the tongue?

- I'll open your mouth.

The tongue moves

Then we can go further with his speech.

- The movement of the tongue

is crucial so there's hope.

Great, that's awesome.

We're going to work really hard,

soon you'll be able to eat normally.

A text is only real when it's read.

I shaved my father when I visited him

the last time before my accident.

He was unwell and I stayed overnight

in his apartment in Paris.

The next morning I shaved his stubble.

Who can see if I'm shaven?

- Me.

I'm terrified.

- Of what?

You shaving me.

You were always so damned clumsy.

- That runs in the family.

Sure.

Coffee?

- No.

Don't tire him. He's not well.

- How can a shave tire him?

Your mother was prettier.

- That wouldn't be difficult.

Do you remember your mother?

- Oh yeah.

You always ask me that and I always say

the same thing:
not really.

What are you reading at the moment?

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