I was in two places at the same time.
That would be the end of me.
I had to gather my wits as fast as possible.
But where was I?
I thought I saw myself in 2 or 3 places.
Finally, emptiness.
I saw me through the eyes of an other.
I saw me walking toward the water, ready to jump.
An unrepressible thirst was forcing me.
I could hear me say:
"Sing!"
I said to me and my body:
"Sing!"
Suddenly, a voice was heard. A song broke out.
For once, everyone was singing the same tune.
That's how the song saved us.
Too bad for the other!
May God find him among the millions of tuna. Amen!
Perhaps it was this song...
The song...
Tell me about the letters first.
The other student wanted to know, too.
I mean, the tattoos...
This one?
Continue...
Now, you'll tell me about the shipwreck.
I was just about to tell you. We weathered several storms.
We weren't afraid.
We were sure the ship would never sink.
And the storms were our friends.
Each one had a name:
There was Lily, the singer,
Marguerite, the whistler,
Mimi, the bitch,
Belinda, the liar,
and then, the faithful Natacha
who came every December 15th.
Then, one day they stopped coming.
Nothing happened for a long time.
Now, I was really afraid.
One day, when there wasn't even a ripple,
not even a breath of wind, the boat sank!
The boat had begun to sink
and I saw disaster coming.
I tried to help the sailors. No use!
They showed no fear.
They were resigned,
simply to die.
I thought of my mother,
of my love in Buenaventura,
of my son in Singapore.
I wanted to live!
I managed to launch a lifeboat and get in.
Then I saw the ship.
I swear I saw it sink!
I swear by your mother, by your son, and by your only love!
The Funchalense was engulfed
by a glassy sea, under a full moon.
Oh yes, by a beautiful summer night.
I drifted for 4 days.
On the 5th, I woke up to a mixture of uneasiness and well-being.
Now that I think of it, it must've been the salt.
Or maybe
the weight of a coin under my tongue.
I really don't know.
I heard voices blaspheming:
"Star of the sea... Pray for us!"
The former is a tavern in Hamburg,
the latter is a brothel in Cyprus.
I'd gladly sell my soul for a pint of beer.
I couldn't help not being surprised by this weird scene:
the return of the Vallon de Marseille,
the ex-Funchalense,
ex-Socrates 4.
I said to myself:
"What's life? It's just an absurd wound."
By the way, I must tell you about Tangiers.
What do you know about Tangiers? Nothing?
Neither do I.
I got to know by chance a lady who managed
to soften me up with the story of her brother
who'd disappeared like me in a hurricane.
Two men walked towards us menacingly.
I decided not to fight back.
One was Ali. He was mean, weak and yellow.
The other was Ahmed. He was good, strong, resolute.
Men put out torches.
This knife is a torch which puts out men instead.
This knife's the sun. Your fear's its seed.
Your pockets are the trees,
and your money, their fruits.
Ali loved women, Ahmed loved only one.
You're the house where beauty lies.
Your mouth is the castle's door
through which my dove has flown away.
Your nose is the tower
from where I saw the car bringing my love to me.
Other women are drops of water, you're the sea.
Drops run through my fingers.
My hair is wet,
and I float on you.
Help!
How'd I get in this light on the brothers' side?
I don't remember.
I woke up in jail.
Some died, and the sentence might be long.
They told me their sad story.
A loanshark swindled them out of everything.
They killed him. I swear he was really dead.
We became inseparable, like three brothers.
They told me about their life
Ahmed thought he was Ali, and Ali Ahmed.
Both believed the world should be its opposite.
They acted as if the world was what it should be.
The prisoners called them "The Rebels".
One day, we were visited by the man who taught me about lies
and meanness.
May God find him among the 50000 unfaithful.
Open the cells!
He came everyday to tell us about the truths.
He insisted, curiously, that the cells be opened
and the guards taken away.
The father is God.
Very good.
Then, there's the son.
We finally understood he wanted us out.
But first, we had to get rid of him.
Thanks to him,
I'm here before you today.
May God explain the bellies of the 100 million ants.
So, how many Gods weren't there?
Three...
No my children, that's not it.
First off, there's a father who is God.
Then there's the son who is God...
and the Holy Spirit who is God.
We promised to make a fortune together
one day.
I went to the harbor. I knew I'd find the ship.
It'd be too much to say it was waiting for me.
Let's just say it was there by chance, as usual.
I told you the sailors were continually eating.
I didn't tell you they never defecated.
Every time they thought they'd catch me at it,
they'd make fun of me for weeks.
One day, I had the answer.
Your hand!
Me tell you guess!
A moujik is walking around in a zoo,
near the walrus pool.
Two walruses are fighting...
Your hand!
...and when the moujik
passes near the pool, they stop fighting. Why?
Go on, keep on talking.
Why do they stop?
Tell me the story!
That's when I knew they couldn't defecate:
instead of sweating, worms oozed out.
That's really interesting.
- Metamorphosis? - Butterflies.
Yes sir, butterflies!
But it's not what you think.
The worms died,
butterflies came directly out of the sailors' pores.
The ship was invaded by worms.
Everyone went up on the deck; and then...
metamorphosis took place.
The butterflies were eaten by migratory birds
who fell on the deck, poisoned,
the ones we ate for weeks on end.
The boat went back to the Americas.
Valparaiso was seen off in the distance.
I was looking forward to see my mother again.
Some neighbors pretended not to know me.
No one had heard of my sister or my mother.
Carlos Alberto Cores, traveling salesman...
You're looking for the party, too?
Don't tell me you don't know anything!
I seem to be the only one who's unfamiliar
with this story.
The salesman told me a story
that I didn't want to believe.
This house's been closed down for many years.
You have to go around the back way.
A hallway leads to a tunnel under the city.
You'll see, it's very beautiful.
Look!
Now, we're walking past the room without windows.
From here, the Free Masons run the world.
This room is located exactly
under the famous Jesuit pool
where they drown their sons.
Maybe that's why, in this area
the laws of gravity are inverted,
and we walk on the ceiling.
It's not too bad.
You get used to it quickly.
It's very good
for the heart.
To top it off, it stimulates erections.
A year ago, there was a party here.
Several years ago, there was another party here.
We aren't the only ones. Let me guess...
Like me, you met a girl in the port,
she told you she was alone, her fiancé'd left.
You too,
you fell in love.
They invited you...
No, my case is different.
I'd just made a big sale when I saw her.
Maybe because I have
a mother and a sister too,
when I see a woman crying, I want to comfort her.
I told her tender things,
and all the jokes that traveling salesmen know.
I even got her to laugh.
Without her fiancé, life had no meaning anymore.
I liked her,
I told her about the moon, I said sublime things.
I alluded to a Platonic relationship.
I evoked the loneliness of night trains.
We kissed, her icy lips burnt me.
Carlos Alberto Cores, traveling salesman...
Delighted!
We were to meet in the garden of her house.
I took a bath, put on perfume, ate a steak and salad
so she wouldn't be disappointed.
She was waiting in a sexy negligee.
She wasn't bad, padded hips, small but firm breasts...
Why should I tell you what she told me?
Even I blushed.
When we least expected it,
we heard screams. We came back to earth.
My son,
it's about time you got here!
You sister's with God knows who!
She's not a little girl anymore.
Is that what they taught you?
That's how the brother and mother caught me
in the quite pleasant act of...
I narrowly escaped.
Now I'm back
to see her again
because this girl left a thorn in my heart.
I discovered the house in this state.
It hadn't been lived in for 10 years.
A drama must have taken place here.
Now, it's haunted by ghosts.
What?
All my characters are ghosts?
That's scandalous!
Excuse me, I'm going to take a piss...
Dear brother...
My beloved son...
fruit of my womb
piece of my flesh
esteemed and respected brother
my open wound, my torture...
Farewell, my brother.
I decided to return home that night.
You've come back! How dreadful!
Your sister couldn't take the shame.
She committed suicide.
Why?
First her fiancé! What despair!
What endless agony!
You'd never understand
your sister's languishing day after day
and finally dead! What a disgrace!
Think of your sister's shame.
And you added to it: your fighting,
your life-sentence...
She wasn't strong enough to wait.
Now that you're free,
everything will be better.
She died yesterday.
I wasn't strong enough to stay with my mother,
nor resist coming back the next day.
Are you on the demolition team?
No, I lived here before.
Really?
What's going on here?
We're to tear this house down.
They wanted a church,
but red tape...
So what are you going to put up?
A high obelisk in the middle of a large square.
You must forget the horrors of the past.
I used to live here.
I remember an old lady who waited
for her son's return. I saw him, then...
Accident?
the butcher's truck ran him down.
Then his poor old mother
starved to death.
You sure it happened here?
Of course I am.
Is it yours?
No it's not.
It sure is yours.
For days I wandered from bar to bar,
drunk, trying to forget.
That night, I saw the "Femme fatale"
who plays with the delicate heart of the sailor.
Here you forget all the worries of the world.
The only true haven is art,
beauty...
Mathilda was nudity made art.
This cursed woman made me suffer so much
that I forgot all my cares.
Yes, that's it...
or rather...
You see what I mean?
Was it that day?
I noted it down.
Woman...
I thought that...
I don't know...
I was feeling good,
no,
rather...
You see what I mean...
Yes,
that's it
or rather...
You see what I mean...
Nudity is an art. Besides, art is only nudity.
He admires you like one admires art.
There's no more art, only too much civilization.
Art is barbarious.
I don't know what your opinion is.
It's the same as yours.
That's what they all say.
But nudity scares them
sooner or later.
My friend'd like to stay alone with you.
He's right. Art is loneliness.
She accepted to see me the next day.
Tomorrow, when and where I choose!
Delighted...
This disgusts me.
We should have met outdoors,
in the eye of the storm, far from the prejudices of the world.
At the supreme moment,
lightning would have annihilated us.
Nothingness
is perfect nudity.
I'll render your desires transcendent.
I want to see you naked.
Tangible nudity is the skin
which clothes the being.
I want to make love.
Love can't be made,
love is!
I had never seen
someone completely naked.
But I'm not naked.
You see,
I have only one orifice.
I do everything with my mouth.
I wanted to escape, but she had it set up.
I had to do things I'll tell you someday.
Despite my growing disgust,
I couldn't help coming back to Mathilde night after night.
A week later, everyone was pointing at me.
Luckily,
the ship was leaving.
I couldn't get Mathilde out of my mind.
She's engraved in my memory.
I saw her in other women's gestures,
even in those of my comrades.
She even appeared
in my shaving mirror.
And later, only later, in my dreams.
I began to drink to forget her,
but it got worse.
She appeared in every glass I emptied,
staring at me with her fake eyes.
She half-opened her only orifice.
Until that fated day I was able to forget her.
It was in Tampico, if I remember.
Or rather in Puerto Viejo.
I was attacked and hit on the head.
Thanks to a child, I didn't die.
With an old gun, he frightened the aggressors.
When I came to, Mathilde didn't exist anymore.
Even her name meant nothing.
Who are you?
Antonio Morales' son.
I saw you being attacked,
but you didn't see me when you looked into my house.
I don't cry when I see bandits.
My parents say I'm free because I can go wherever I want,
within their domain,
but it's so vast
I'll never reach its edge.
I'm free and I'm a prisoner.
Morales'd seen a lot and experienced little.
He thought books were the opposite of life.
To prove him wrong, I told him my story.
It's good to hear some Spanish.
All that you've told me
is there:
those writers have already written your story.
They spent their lives writing it.
I want to live it.
Take me with you.
I promised to find him a place on the ship.
We made a date, but when he showed up,
we'd sailed.
You can't change a destiny. You'll see.
Want a cigarette?
Not that one!
The middle one, the others are contaminated.
Everything around is always contaminated.
Pity the world's made up of things around...
So everything is contaminated.
There are two kinds of contamination:
solid,
like furniture, this ship...
gaseous,
the air, the wind...
Only one thing is pure:
Our Lady, the sea and some alcohol.
The rest is infected.
I'm seeing her today.
I don't know if mother wants to see you.
The 1st Officer hid a stowaway in his cabin.
Mommy!
Everyone needed a mother,
so he rented his.
Hello, Mom.
A little chap wants to see you...
Have a good time!
I thought I had met a person
able to explain the meaning of life.
Who are you?
A...
Nothing?
Where are you from?
Nowhere.
You must come from somewhere.
Valparaiso...
From Valparaiso?
From the North?
From the South?
Yes, the South.
Peasant blood...
What do your parents do?
I don't know.
My mother sews.
Service of provision...
What were you doing in Valparaiso?
Nothing.
Drinking.
Lumpenproletariat.
I wanted to see her every day.
- Where are you going? - To see Our Lady.
It's very expensive.
I'll pay.
I've already paid for your excesses.
I know you still owe a lot of money.
- Sooner or later, you've got to pay. - I keep my promises.
I don't believe it.
I'll find the money.
They all say the same thing.
Ghosts have told me their stories, you know,
and yet I don't believe it.
Once I saw some flying saucers,
yet I don't believe it.
Once I saw land coming out of the sea.
Next day, it was all gone.
I don't get it.
I don't believe it anymore.
People came to pay off their debts,
yet I don't believe it.
The only thing I believe in
is this!
And in Our Lady.
The 1st Officer stopped me from seeing my mother.
I felt repudiated. I rebelled.
I did things that I regret today.
Maybe I already told you, but to get on the boat,
you had to kill on land and on sea.
It was the secret rule. I obeyed it unknowingly.
I spent 2 weeks in chains.
When I was set free,
my mother had been made to leave the boat.
She had written us a letter.
You will follow her precepts:
develop the memory
which belongs to everyone.
If someone remembers something forgotten by the others,
let him forget it, too.
You will honor her with understanding:
let everyone understand the same thing.
And if someone seems to understand
something the others don't,
let him admit his ignorance.
You will honor her with feelings:
you will love and hate at the same time.
You will honor her with imagination:
invent new ways of being and acting together.
Never forget that memory, feelings,
imagination and understanding
must be used for an honest and productive life.
To pass the time, we told stories.
We even had contests where I always won.
Do you know the story of the albino twins?
Of the gray snakes?
Of the flying rabbit who kills newlyweds?
Never mention rabbits on a boat!
Of the crying bull?
Of the living dead?
- Of the mother with her children... - Stories... Stories!
I came back to the house. It was shut.
Neighbors told me the story...
Several years ago,
a mother and her daughter were waiting for a sailor.
One day, he came back.
He was crossing the street to embrace his mother
when he was run over by a truck.
Then the mother and his sister
starved themselves to death,
in the house.
Then,
other people wanted to move in
because the house was haunted.
Three men died there.
I spent a night in the house
with three ghosts.
With my stories
I even managed to scare the ghosts!
I know a ghost story.
A real one!
It happened to me when I was a young sailor.
When I got to the freighter,
everyone was dead...
A ghost freighter.
That's all?
It's too short to be a story.
Maybe it's not a story,
but it's a true ghost story!
A few days later, in Dakar,
I met an old black doctor.
He knew the Bible by heart, and also
the secret Testament where God says
the Blacks will become His Chosen People.
He taught me many things,
everything.
I called him "Father"...
I never paid a lot for luxury items.
Bread is expensive, but a whole city
with its palaces, its shops,
can be bought with a single coin
if you know how to choose
the currency and the time.
Even though he was among the chosen
he didn't know the name of his people,
because he'd been brought to Dakar as a child.
I wanted to give him some money, he was so poor.
This is for you...
That's a lot of money,
and yet, not enough.
If you want to help me,
bring me, but don't ask me why,
three Danish crowns.
Why can't I ask you why?
The answer'd be too long
because each event of my life
is part of my explanation.
To explain one minute
of my life, I'd need a whole day.
To explain my whole life,
I'd need an infinite number of years.
Curiously,
this infinite number of years
would be totally found in this single instant of my life
that we will share
if you bring me three Danish crowns today.
I went straight to the captain's cabin.
He was sleeping,
but I knew he was singing "Ode to Joy".
I need three Danish crowns. I'll pay you back.
Three crowns?
You said three crowns?
We anchored in many little ports.
No one shared my joys and cares.
I became gloomy like my unfortunate comrades.
Sometimes, I'd stop a passer-by
and treat him to a drink, while I told him my story.
This stopped only a month ago.
It seems like yesterday. The captain called me.
Without reminding me of my debt,
he simply asked me to play cards.
We played all night long.
By dawn, I'd won most of the money in the safe.
You've won about how much you owe me.
Now, choose.
You keep this money, or pay me back.
I want to keep it, I need it. I'll pay later.
We'll be in Antwerp soon.
I want to buy me a bar in Antwerp.
With the rest, I'll send for my mother,
the black father from Dakar,
my son from Singapore,
the dancer from Valparaiso,
the seamstress from Buenaventura.
So be it!
Look here!
"Your" letter goes there.
I'll begin weaving this part in a few weeks.
I bought a bar, I sent for my family.
20 years time seemed to have been written on their faces.
My son hadn't changed.
My wife had suffered from my absence.
My two brothers from Tangiers were rich.
The kid from Tampico had drowned.
The black had died 10 years before we met.
The "Femme fatale" was still beautiful,
mean and treacherous.
Then,
I decided to be happy.
Last night, a company rep
brought me a letter from my captain.
He demanded repayment of my debt within 24 hrs
in the same currency he'd given me.
I gambled
and I won enough to pay.
Today, I changed this money.
But I still need
3 Danish crowns.
Everything comes to its end.
What do you mean,
"everything"?
You're looking for 3 Danish crowns.
It's the only thing
I need in this world.
I'll be the one from the here-after.
Let's look for these crowns together.
Follow me.
Let's get out of here.
I already know
where you're taking me.
The letters!
The spots...
No matter what shape those spots take,
we'll always be reminded of the image we have.
The world is poor.
It's a mix of lines and curves, squares, circles,
plus the misleading conviction
that we're surrounded by all these forms.
The world has two dimensions!
Currency...
I had them in my pocket all the time.
Our presence here is gratuitous,
like most of the things in life.
The first...
The second...
The third...
You promised me a job on the ship.
You promised me, so pay up!
I listened to you patiently.
If you want it, earn it!
I found the coins...
If you want my job, earn it.
But I already did!
You can't just "become" a sailor.
You have to deserve it.
It's not given to just anyone.
You owe me this job. Pay up!
Can I go piss while you're talking?
I'll only be 5 minutes...
May I?
No one's ever made fun of me!
Please excuse my slightly unusual reaction.
I swear...
It's not my nature...
It's the first time...
I did that.
It's the first time... believe me.
If all the jerks spread their wings,
we'd never see the sun.
Everything you told me about Valparaiso
was really beautiful.
Really beautiful.
But the worms oozing out... That was disgusting!
Disgusting!
That was poetry! True poetry!
That's disgusting!
You always need a living sailor on a ship full of dead.
That was me.
Subtitles: Paul J. MEMMI