Paru en 2013, le roman Alias Ali de Frédéric Roux kaléidoscope la vie du boxeur de légende Muhammad Ali sous la forme d'un patchwork — coupures d'articles, déclarations radiophoniques, récits, rumeurs, murmures etc.
Au menu du jour, en signe de connivence avec Alias Ali, une
mini-fiction composée exclusivement de dialogues extraits du film Carol de
Todd Haynes avec Rooney Mara et Cate Blanchett, à qui nous avons déjà consacré
ce billet. Les thèmes
du blog y affleurent ici et là.
Cate Blanchett et Muhammad Ali
Friday night, in a bar, jazz music playing. Two men stand at the counter.
Not much going on for a Friday.
It's early yet.
Say Cal, make it a double, would you?
And one for yourself. I gotta make a call. Back in a flash.
The man leaves the counter and walks by a table.
Therese? Is that you? What do you know! I'm saying to myself, I know that girl.
It's great to see you, Therese. You look a million bucks.
Jack waves at the other man. They sit at the table.
My kid brother, Dannie, works at the New York Times.
It's a job.
You call that a job? I call it an illusion.
You get paid. Is money an illusion?
My kid brother, the jerk philosopher.
What I really wanna do is write. That's why I watch movies. Right now I'm charting the correlation between what the characters say and how they really feel.
My kid brother, the movie jerk.
So, you take pictures?
You should come by the Times, for dinner sometime?
I work at night, so...
I've got a good pal who's a junior photo editor. He loves to pontificate. I'll introduce you.
Really? Yeah, I'd like that.
What are your pictures like?
Oh I don't know. Not very good, probably.
I mean... what are they? What do you take pictures of?
Birds. Trees. Windows. Anything, really. What do you write about?
Always feel funny taking pictures of people. Like it's some sort of a ..
Invasion of privacy?
All of us, you know, we have affinities for people. We like certain people. You like certain people right?
You don't like others. And you don't know why you're attracted to some people and not others, the only thing you really know is... You either are attracted or you're not. It's like physics. Bouncing off each other like pin balls. Yeah but... not everything's as simple as a bunch of pin balls reacting off of each other. Some things don't even react. But everything's alive.
It's late. Maybe I should go.
Sunday morning, months later, in a diner, Frank Sinatra singing in the background. A woman enters and sees a man sitting at a table.
It's great to see you, Therese. It's been, months.
You look very fine, you know. As if you've suddenly blossomed. I'm afraid the coffee is not very good.
Long as it's hot.
What's in the case?
Oh. Notions. I'm a... I sell them. Or try to.
I don't really know what notions are. Exactly. But they do instruct us to use the word... You told me I should be more interested in humans.
What a strange girl you are.
Flung out of space. And how's that going?
It's going well... actually.
I'm glad. Is that what you want to be? A photographer?
I think so. If I have any talent for it.
Will you show me your work?
Sure. I mean, I haven't sold anything. Or even shown a picture to someone who could buy one. I don't even have a decent camera. But they're all at my place. Under the sink, mostly.
Invite me round.
You're full of surprises. Yes.
A little later, at Therese's apartment.
Therese, you know, these are seriously good. Really capture... whoever this is.
They're just practice.
You really wanna put together a portfolio. Say the word, I'll introduce you to my pal at the Times. There's always a clerk job going...
I'm going away for a while.
Wherever my car will take me. West. Soon. And I thought... perhaps you might like to come with me. Would you?
Yes, Therese. Yes, I would.