Dialogue connes ...
Topo. We were three in the office. I had nothing to do but read a little. Bardamu rotting in a remote village in Africa. Dring. I put my book to answer the phone; Another idiot mother of student who does not understand why his son had so many hours of glue. Diplomat, I explained to him briefly. Upon re-engage the reading, while one of my colleagues did not care to peel around the fruit, the other began the conversation:
- Well ... I did a thesis on Céline. - Oh! What exactly?
- was the relationship he had with the Jews ...
- Ah! Like that ... what to say to thee!
I felt it would piss me off.
- Yes, that's for sure ... I looked for traces of anti-Semitism in the Voyage
... I felt good.
- Uh, in his pamphlets I will, but frankly in the travel, if you focus the above is unfortunate.
- Anyway, I do not like his writing ...
Doucette, I had the urge to slap her. I restrained myself. She continued:
- Too ground, without binder, too ... And then it felt hatred oozes from every page.
- On the contrary, it is this strength which makes it a great writer, an artist ...
While we talked, the third member, the student of psychology, to get by as best she could with her fruit. She heard what was told in bits and decided to intervene.
- You mean what?
- In literature, Celine.
- Oh, I know. She wrote what?
The other explained. Me, I wanted to laugh. And crying too, I do not know. I especially want to smoke a cigarette.
- I leave you ...
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