Violette Page #4

I'll bring up yours with mine.

- See you soon.

- Yes.

Goodbye.

And my regards to your wife

and your daughter.

I'll tell them.

Leave that to men. Honestly!

If we left things to them...

And your book?

What about it?

In the Prison of Her Skin.

Thanks!

It isn't true what you say.

I sound like a monster.

You think so?

The lady on the wall. it's her.

Yes. it's her.

As if you didn't know!

Don't start misbehaving again

and embarrassing your mother.

You always belittle things.

Is the water closet on the landing?

Yes.

Don't forget the paper.

You depress me. Violette.

You're living in the Middle Ages.

Don't worry about it.

Thank you.

I sell my eggs to the poulterer.

They're good. my eggs. you'll see.

Everyone wants them.

But I can't come up with dozens.

I do chickens too.

I leave the eggs by the oven.

You should see them breaking

the shells with their beaks.

It makes me want to cry.

Ernest says

it's my maternal instinct.

He's understanding. Ernest.

Violette. what's the matter?

I don't know.

but I feel giddy.

It happened in the street.

Do you think it's serious?

Silly goose.

You should be happy.

Happy?

It's the menopause.

Every cloud has a silver lining.

You'll be able to enjoy it now.

Enjoy it? Enjoy what?

Find someone.

For that.

I'll have to be different.

What are you lacking?

Be feminine. And you'll succeed.

Be feminine.

for God's sake!

It isn't hard.

Look at your mother.

Where are you going?

- Is Mrs de Beauvoir back?

- No.

- The window's open.

- It's the cleaning lady.

- Are you sure?

- She isn't back.

You have her address.

She has her mail forwarded.

No.

She left 3 months ago.

When is she back?

- I know no more than you.

- You know no more than me?

- You're hiding something.

- Are you done?

Mrs de Beauvoir isn't back.

She isn't here!

Yes?

- Is Mrs de Beauvoir home?

- No.

- May I come in?

- Who are you?

You're insane!

Don't forget.

these women hate themselves.

They hate their condition

and. above all. they hate themselves.

They are incapable of loving.

All that remains

is the erotic ritual.

I don't understand.

Their hatred of Madame

is their hatred of themselves?

Obviously.

Please get back

into your positions.

Firstly. it is a rite.

It must be as tragic as possible.

This is Racine.

The women don't achieve their ends.

they destroy themselves.

Look at her gloves.

These are not any old gloves.

It is a rubber glove.

It must be at the heart of

your preoccupations. Yvette.

Monique. it isn't for me to say

what it represents.

- An erotic object?

- Indeed.

You make it come out

of the dishwater

and become skin. softness. fantasy.

Think about all this.

It's important. Back to work.

If you didn't like Famished.

at least tell me to my face.

Ah. Violette.

I was going to call you.

About time too!

Where have you been?

In the United States.

for a series of lectures.

In Chicago and California.

I got back 2 days ago.

You're lying!

What's all this racket?

Really. Simone!

Could we have a bit of quiet?

I don't have to justify myself.

Have you met someone?

Yes. An American.

Are you satisfied now?

- Do you love him?

- None of your business!

Famished is your most beautiful

and powerful piece.

but I didn't know

I was the object of love.

It isn't easy for me.

you understand.

Sartre thinks it's a great book

and Gaston Gallimard

will draw up a contract.

The Second Sex and Famished

will both come out in the autumn.

in the Blanche collection.

If only I could hate you.

What's going on?

No theatre rolls out

the red carpet for me.

I don't sell tons of books.

You can be so melodramatic.

Genet. I read your play.

It's rubbish!

Who asks Racine to be Rimbaud?

Or Rimbaud to be Racine?

Miss Leduc. please.

Last door on the left.

at the end of the corridor.

Thank you.

Yes?

It's me.

I'm not presentable.

I'm worried.

You don't answer my telegrams.

Go away.

I haven't done the cleaning.

I don't do mine every day either.

It's nice here. It's warm.

I'm almost out of coal.

Is this where you work?

Do you think I'm ridiculous?

For collecting photos of me?

Quite frankly. yes.

I didn't come to discuss that.

The Second Sex

Thank you.

Well done. What an uproar!

Everyone's talking about it.

I'm upset by some reactions.

such as those of the communists.

Camus. who I esteem.

says I'm ridiculing French males.

One man said.

I was humiliated to be a woman

so I was trying to humiliate men.

It'll take time.

Would like some wine?

It's all I have.

I never refuse good wine.

This is quite ordinary.

I'm not here to discuss

Famished's failure.

You know what I think about

the failure of a book.

I don't put it down to the fact

you described your love for me.

Get that out of your head

once and for all.

The book exists.

It's good. It will survive.

I came to discuss your future.

I hope you're going

to get back down to work.

I've lost faith.

What about the project

you told me about ages ago?

Your 1st sexual experience

with a pupil.

when you were

a young boarder.

- Isabelle?

- Yes.

No one is interested

in girls sleeping together.

I might as well become

a streetwalker.

but with the way I look.

who'd actually pay me for it?

I'm an old. mad. neurotic failure.

- You're not.

- I am.

I'm over forty

and I've no future.

No one wants...

Alone. always alone.

I've no money.

no love life. nothing.

Gaston Gallimard

will pay you a monthly sum.

I don't know how much. but...

enough so you can live.

and write in peace.

Provided you get down to work.

Are you serious?

A good publisher makes money

from mediocre writers

who sell well

then gives it to talented writers

who sell less.

Or not at all.

Let's discuss your project.

There's my 1st experience

in boarding school.

Plus my life with Jacques.

the abortion and so on.

- I've even thought of a title.

- All in good time!

Ravages.

That's just like you.

What I experienced

was a ravage.

Nothing but demolition.

Make something constructive of it.

I'm going away for a while.

To see your American?

Not at all. We split up.

- I'm going to Norway.

- Who with?

Sartre.

Take me with you.

Don't leave me on my own.

Go away. You never do.

Don't you like travelling?

We couldn't afford to travel.

It isn't a question of money.

but of curiosity.

I expect your first pages.

Don't disappoint me.

Your post.

"Miss. having reviewed

the accounts of the NRF.

"I am delighted to inform you

we will pay you from January 1

"a monthly sum of 25.000 francs."

"...octopus in my entrails shivered.

"Isabelle drank from my breasts.

"I drank with her.

"I suckled on darkness

when her mouth moved away.

"I guided her hand

to those rare tears of joy."

"I dug into her neck

with my teeth.

"I breathed in the night

under her gown.

"The roots of a tree trembled.

"I hold her. I stifle the tree.

"I hold her. I stifle the voices.

"I hold her. I erase the light.

"May she come.

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