by Véronique Ovaldé
translated by Adriana Hunter
As strange and poetic as Kick the Animal Out (even the toponyms Camerone and Milena reappear here), but ultimately disappointing. Partly because, intriguing as it is, it does not resolve to my (or anyone’s) satisfaction. Partly because I fail to like its protagonist, Lancelot. After death of his beautiful wife, he discovers that he knew next to nothing about her. And whose fault is that, one may ask. When Lancelot cries out, “For God’s sake, what did she see in me?”, I totally share his bafflement.
Still, Ovaldé’s quirky sense of humour alone makes it a worthy reading.
Your job’s filming bears?
No, it’s filming animals in general.
Ah ha.
The DP called because the last director encountered some difficulties...
What sort of difficulties? Lancelot managed (while internally it came out as: but what’s a DP?).
The bear came across him one night and the guy got eaten.
Eaten eaten?
Eaten eaten.
Really?
The bear ate what he could and buried the rest. For later, she explained.
And you’re off to take this guy’s place?
Actually (flick of her right hand which sweeps open the stolen robe, revealing a portion of her vinyl corset, an utterly incongruous intrusion at this point), I don’t think he was very careful... I’ve worked with him before... He was the sort who didn’t follow any of the basic safety regulations... |  |
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