Serotonin (9780374721688) by Houellebecq Michel; Whiteside Shaun (TRN)

Author:Houellebecq, Michel; Whiteside, Shaun (TRN)
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Macmillan

But why drag myself to past scenes? as the poet said; I want to dream and not weep, he added as if one had the choice. I need only say that our relationship lasted a little over five years – five years of happiness is quite considerable and I certainly didn’t deserve as much – and it came to an end in a horribly stupid way; things like that shouldn’t happen, but they do happen, they happen every day. God is a mediocre scriptwriter, that’s the conviction that almost fifty years of life have led me to form, and more generally God is mediocre: the whole of his creation bears the stamp of approximation and failure, when it isn’t meanness pure and simple; of course, there are exceptions, there are definitely exceptions, the possibility of happiness had to exist if only as bait – well, I’m digressing, let’s get back to my subject which is me, not that it’s especially interesting but it’s my subject.

In those years I enjoyed certain professional satisfactions; I even had during some brief moments – particularly when I was travelling to Brussels – the illusion of being an important man. And I probably was more important than when I had been involved in clownish promotional operations concerning Livarot; I played a certain part in the development of the French government’s position on the European agricultural budget – but I soon came to realise that while that budget might have been the first European one, and France the first beneficiary country, the number of farmers was simply too high to reverse the trend towards decline; I gradually concluded that French farmers were condemned, so I detached myself from that job, as others did: I understood that the world wasn’t one of the things I could change, and others were more ambitious, more motivated, probably more intelligent.

It was during one of my trips to Brussels that I had the wretched idea of sleeping with Tam. Pretty much anybody would have had that idea, I think, she was a ravishing little black girl, particularly her little arse, well, she had a pretty little black girl’s arse and that says it all, and my method of seduction was directly inspired by it. It was a Thursday evening and we, a group of relatively young Eurocrats, were drinking beers at the Grand Central; maybe I made her laugh at some point – I was capable of doing that kind of thing in those days – although it was just as we were going out to continue the evening in a club on Place du Luxembourg that I put my hand on her arse; in principle simple methods don’t work well, but it worked that time.

Tam belonged to the British delegation (Britain was still part of Europe at the time, or pretending to be) but she was originally from Jamaica I think, or maybe from Barbados – well, one of those islands that seem to be able to produce a limitless

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