Relance de la consommation

[Nimoy, aussi clic-clic, Honorine et Joyce,  fête locale.]

Balnéaire #132

George Orwell with friends at Southwold beach in 1932.

[Le 21 janvier clic-clic, des morts, Orwell en 1950, tant d'autres, et même un qui ne l'est pas. Et les chansons de Peggy Lee.]

Relance de la consommation

[Michelangelo Antonioni, le 30 juillet. Et Robin Cook, bien sûr clic-clic. Un baiser aussi, pas n'importe lequel.]

Understatement (dans les livres #171)

There must have been numbers of men who were killed without ever learning that the newspapers in the rear were calling them Fascists. This kind of thing is a little difficult to forgive.

[Pour Andreu Nin, le 20 juin clic-clic, Bugsy Siegel, la Saint-Balthazar et Cioran, aussi.]

Everyone to be corrupt (un air qui vaut pas dix ronds #173)

I spat out Plath and Pinter
I am all the things that you regret.

clic-clic

Manic Street Preachers 1994

[Le 11 février, clic-clac, Cohen et Lama, Eloise 3 fois, Volodine en 777 mots et Sylvia Plath, 1963.]

We are the dead

We are the dead, he said.

We are the dead, echoed Julia dutifully.

You are the dead, said an iron voice behind them.

clic-clic

[Les mots de George Orwell, † le 21 janvier 1950. Des morts, il y en a tant, le 21 janvier clic-clic, et même un qui ne l'est pas, et les chansons de Peggy Lee.]

Des journées entières dans les livres #92

It sometimes happens that you meet a dame who's such a hot number that you want a second look. Maybe you're driving a car at the time of seeing her. Most likely you'll run up on the kerb or have a collision. Then, again, you may be walking along the street, and, turning your head as she passes, you bang into someone who starts bawling you out. Well, Fanquist was one of those take−a−second−look−dames. You know what I mean, don't you? An all−metal blonde with a build−up that does things to you, and a figure that weakens your resistance.

I saw her for the first time when she was working for a guy called Rabener. This guy ran a smart restaurant−floor show on Broadway. I'd known Rabener off and on for several months. He was smart; maybe he was too smart. Anyway, I didn't like him. He was a cold, hard−faced guy, and I guess he had a mean streak somewhere. It always knocked me how the hell he ever made a success of his restaurant; but he did.

Fanquist acted as his secretary. Odd name that, but it came out after that it was just a glamour build−up. I've forgotten her real name, but it was something pretty terrible. Anyway, we don't have to bother with that.

[James Hadley Chase est mort le 6 février 1985 - on en a lu comme tout le monde, à l'époque, tant et plus. On a aussi en stock clic-clac la plus que pertinente critique d'Orwell - several people, after reading No Orchids, have remarked to me, "It's pure Fascism." This is a correct description, although the book has not the smallest connexion with politics and very little with social or economic problems. It has merely the same relation to Fascism as, say Trollope's novels have to nineteenth-century capitalism. It is a daydream appropriate to a totalitarian age. Gaston Couté, autrement, jour de lessive clic-clac.]