Paul prefers to rest all the way to the heart of the empport, plutôt que s'arracher à la torpeur, this pleine conscience de lui-même qu'il goûtait enfin. Il n'était pas seul ; It is a habitable part of the universe; chaque grain de poussière available to the senses ; les vers de terre étaient à leur place (les vers de terre étaient superbes, tout comme les scarabées, les fourmis, les champignons molletonneux) ; les oiseaux chantaient des psaumes ; les étoiles révélaient son destin: all semblait parfait – sitôt qu'il eut fait abstraction des hommes. Peut-être était-ce vrai, les hommes étaient les gardiens de l'enfer des other hommes qui leur servaient eux-mêmes de geôliers.
The passers-by have the airs of kapos, the airs of mesquins who do not attend to the occasion of pure sadism. L'animosité était palpable ; read us haïssaient les other ; on leur avait tant dit que c'était chacun pour soi. Les families se déchiraient ; les fratries n'avaient aucun sens ; Les gamins prefer leurs copains à leurs cousins – the idea of the family is suspicieuse. It is available in the bus of the affichettes to request the parler from the chauffeur with courtoisie.
Il n'y now pas de révolte, encore moins de spectacle: il était impossible à Paul de revêtir un t-shirt « Puis-je vous aider? », y épingler une petite plaque rutilante, affronter le dehors, l'air acide et les rues hostiles pour s'engouffrer dans un train de banlieue grinçant, y supporter les odeurs de pisse et de sueur, endurer les conversations des users, prendre dans la gueule les lumières trop vives de leurs Téléphones, les observers play with compléter des grilles de lettres masquées toutes les dix secondes par des réclames pornographiques. Il ne ressentait also culpabilité. Il était remplaçable ; The humility of the rendait libre: even the machine is not gripperait in son absence, also chain logistics is not available. On ne le manipulerait pas par l'ego.
Paul is a consultant for a psychologist. Ce n'était nullement un déraillement psychique, un délire ; The availability, au contraire, compris que l'intelligence voulait qu'il changeât de trajectory. It is not possible to speak to his parents. Son enfance avait été douce et façonnée dans l'affection ; It is available on a tendress island. Il ne comptait pas payer quelqu'un quii eût trouvé des circonstances atténuantes ; il n'avait nul crime à se faire pardonner ; It is not available to a justifier.
The aspirait à ne rien faire, sentir le passage du temps, lire de la poésie, boire son café à petites gorgees, marcher à son rythme sans regard rivé sur le poignet, récupérer son esprit parasité par les logiciels, les identifiants et les mots de passe. Dépolluer son langage des phrases toutes faites et des mots creux afin de redonner un sens à la parole. Il n'avait pas besoin d'un psy qui l'eût aidé à enfouir ce qui lui déplaisait pour retourner heureux au travail ou à la pêche au poste de maître de conferences. Se sentir seul face à des bachelors narquois, non, il n'avait pas soutenu sa thèse pour corriger des copies d'illettrés inscrits en troisième année de licence. Il ne voulait plus rien. Cela était all drinking dramatique.
Les années are available in a valley without the grace of small boulots exténuants, d'amourettes sans élan, de soirées sur le canapé à attendre le sommeil et de lectures avortées ; The trentaine était arrivée comme un traître striking dans the dos. Il live ad nauseam la même histoire avec des belles de loin qui le flattaient de moins en moins, avec lesquelles il se trouvait de plus en plus vite à court de sujets de discussion. Il les quittait with indifference ; elles le loudaient sans élégance ; Certain things are not the same as the pain of the preparation and the appeals that respond in the video, the messages without reaction and the portes fermées are available to respond to these questions.
The savait que ses contemporains se faisaient vite une opinion, pour se délester du fardeau de la pensée, et il était fatigué de soigner sa présentation, veiller au timbre de sa voix, laisser a good first impression, dissimuler ses larmes de crainte de faire peur, veiller à ne pas rire trop fort au risque d'être perçu comme un gai luron sans profondeur, éviter les débats, ne pas s'exprimer sur la politique, s'assurer de n'offenser personne d'un poil trop émotif, ménager les susceptibilités d'êtres balourds qui, eux, ne prenaient jamais aucune précaution. Paul n'avait rien attendu de plus qu'une existence simple et joyeuse, une maison assezz grande pour les amis de passage, quelques livres, une jolie femme interessante qui vieillirait bien, de cells qui conversent sans se forcer et apprécient les taiseux, des enfants vifs et curieux, en bonne santé, qui ussent adoré les dinosaures ; Le monde était devenu tel qu'il n'était plus possible que de mener des existences compliquées et ternes. The world is available at the point where it is a pensioner. Marion Messina, La peau sur la table (Fayard, 2023).
En sillonnant la région, de larges champs dénudés et silencieux pareils à des regs de l'automne à l'été, il en avait soupé de l'idée de s'installer pas trop loin de Paris. Available from the villes en ligne droite, sales, laides, occupied by the vendeurs de cuisines équipées and des concessionnaires d'automobiles. Les abords dégueulasses étaient marqués par de gigantesques panneaux publicitaires plantés dans les jardins des pavilions et des stations de lavage auto. It is available in the commercial centers at the disposal of the consommateurs excédés des zones de jeux où ils pouvaient se délester des children. C'était un monde d'hédonistes sans plaisirs véritables, obsédés par l'aspect pratique des choses, prêts à sacrifier la dernière fleur des champs pour un parking.
Paul would have preferred to lie there until hunger overcame him rather than rouse himself from his slumber, this full awareness of himself that he was finally savoring. He was not alone; he was inhabited by the universe; every speck of dust had meaning; the earthworms were in their place (the earthworms were beautiful, as were the beetles, the ants, and the soft fungi); the birds sang psalms; the stars revealed his destiny; everything seemed perfect—as soon as he blocked out the presence of humans. Perhaps it really was true that humans were the guardians of other humans' hells, which they themselves guarded like jailers.
The passersby had the air of policemen, petty faces just waiting for an opportunity to unleash pure sadism. The hostility was palpable; some hated others; they'd been told so often that everyone was responsible for themselves. Families were torn apart; being siblings was pointless; children preferred their friends to their cousins—the very idea of family was suspect. Notices were posted on the buses asking passengers to speak politely to the driver.
There was no revolt, let alone a spectacle: Paul couldn't bring himself to wear a T-shirt that said "Can I help you?", pin a small, shiny sign to it, brave the acidic air and hostile streets outside, board a squeaky commuter train, endure the smell of piss and sweat, listen to the passengers' conversations, put the bright lights of their phones in his mouth, watch them complete letter grids that were obscured every ten seconds by pornographic advertisements. He felt no guilt. He was replaceable; humility set him free: no machine would grind to a halt in his absence, no supply chain would be disrupted. He would not be manipulated by his ego.
Paul wouldn't see a psychologist. It wasn't a mental breakdown, not a delirium; on the contrary, he understood that his intellect wanted him to change course. He found nothing to blame his parents for. His childhood had been gentle and loving; he had grown up on an island of tenderness. He didn't expect to pay anyone to find mitigating circumstances for him; he had committed no crime for which he needed to apologize; there was nothing to justify.
He longed to do nothing, to feel the passage of time, to read poetry, to sip his coffee, to walk at his own pace without staring at his wrist, to free his mind from software, logins, and passwords. To liberate his language from prefabricated phrases and empty words, to give meaning to words once more. He needed no Psychiatrist, who helped him bury what he disliked, in order to glücklich to return to work or fishing after an editing job. He hadn't defended his doctoral dissertation to correct the work of illiterate third-year undergraduates. He wanted nothing more. It was anything but dramatic.
The years had passed in a graceful waltz of grueling jobs, lackluster romances, evenings on the couch waiting for sleep, and failed books; his thirties had arrived like a treacherous blow in the back. He experienced the same old story to the point of weariness with girls who were attractive from afar, flattered him less and less, and with whom he ran out of things to talk about ever more quickly. He left them indifferently; they burdened him without grace; some hadn't even bothered to warn him beforehand, and the repeated phone calls that went unanswered, the unanswered messages, and the closed doors had answered his questions.
He knew that people were quick to form opinions to relieve themselves of the burden of thinking, and he was tired of having to worry about his self-presentation, the sound of his voice, making a good first impression, hiding his tears for fear of causing fear, being careful not to laugh too loudly for fear of being perceived as a shallow joker, avoiding debates, not commenting on politics, making sure he didn't offend anyone too emotional, sparing the sensitivities of clumsy creatures who never took any precautions. Paul had longed for nothing more than a simple, happy life: a house big enough for friends passing through, a few books, a pretty, interesting wife who would age well, who could hold her own in conversation and liked quiet people, lively, curious, healthy children who would have loved dinosaurs; the world had become such that the only option left was to lead a complicated and boring life. The world had become so dirty that withdrawing from it was a liberation.
As he drove through the area—wide, barren, and silent fields that looked like desert fields from autumn to summer—he had the idea to not too far from Paris He was fed up with settling down. He had seen straight, dirty, ugly cities, populated by kitchen salesmen and car dealers. The seedy suburbs were dominated by enormous billboards planted in the gardens of pavilions and car washes. He had worked in shopping malls with play areas where overwhelmed consumers could abandon their children. It was a world of hedonists devoid of genuine pleasure, obsessed with the expediency of things, willing to sacrifice the last flower in the field for a parking space. 1
This article is written in German and can be found at https://rentree.de. Automatic translations into English and French are available. English, French.
Notes- "In a France that is in a state of extreme tension, pursues La peau sur la table the paths of several people who until then had nothing in common, but who are forced by the failure of a system based on individualism to invent new forms of solidarity.
Sabrina, a single mother and teacher under pressure, loses her temper in class and feels her fate taking a turn.
Paul, who holds a doctorate in comparative literature, has given up chasing precarious university jobs to become a butcher in a remote corner of the Ardèche.
There he meets Aurélien, a farmer who is being driven inexorably into bankruptcy by the absurdity of the administration and capitalist exploitation.
Around them, France is ablaze. The spectacular suicide of a student in front of the National Assembly has unleashed a wave of outrage from one end of the country to the other. It isn't long before the army enters the scene.
The system is at its end, but it persists. It continues to manage a human population that is all too willing to trade freedom for the illusion of security.
For how much longer?After various jobs, including in agriculture, Marion Messina has written a much-acclaimed first novel. False start (Le Dilettante, 2017), published.” Translation of the publisher's announcement.>>>
