Theseus, His New Life by Camille de Toledo

Author:Camille de Toledo [Toledo, Camille de]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Other Press
Published: 2023-01-10T00:00:00+00:00

so it goes with the lineage of men who die: a fiction of strength that holds fast and then lets go…but again, at this point I know nothing, understand nothing, I’m like the brother, Jerome, the one who picked up on the family anxiety and dread so as to try and make sense of them if possible and lift me in the process; as I look at you, dear parents, and as I uncover the ascensional life that carried you on the day of your marriage, I am just starting to grasp what comes after joy, youth, beauty, and the great promise you held for the times to come; I tell myself I probably have something to start with; the years when love was falling away, when the lie was expanding, when what gave us existence, the brother and me, the love that is part of a child’s raison d’être, got lost in myths; you were no longer together, but if there’s one thing that the upper bourgeoisie knows how to do better than any other class it’s seeming; and Paris helped you do it, because in that city to which we moved, lying is an art; you, dear parents, were rejoicing then that Mitterrand was still in power; it was your cohorts who wanted him, elected him, and it was your friends, your network, as we would say today, who came in on his coattails to assume positions of power; Gatsby was at this point far from the factories that the leftists had by then abandoned, along with the rest of the country; he took a job in the movie industry; you used to say, I think, that you worked in “the audiovisual sector,” so that no one would take you for a busker; but nothing happens by accident, right? there’s all this seeming: a seeming love, a seeming couple at dinners around town, and the father goes and gets a job in the movies; life has its little harmonies, no? Gatsby goes to work for Gaumont Productions, and he’s sent to Italy to set up a distribution network; he butts heads with the Mafia, comes back, sets out again; you, the mother, feel that he is the one abandoning you, because you’re both children and talk yourself into believing that it’s the other’s fault; it would be so much simpler to recognize that the contract of the summer of 1969 had expired, that fear had taken hold of you, that both of you had gone looking for protection, and that you now felt too alone; but no, for you, the mother…

he’s the one who left

you would tell me later, after the brother and I left home and the father had the courage to get his own apartment; he left me, you would always say, without mentioning Fanfan, your banker friend, who, as your letters report, made love to you so well; without explaining what I find in the copies of your files I have in front of me:

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