Philippe Djian - Betty Blue

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Djian's five novels have won acclaim in Europe, and the present one was a bestseller later adapted into an offbeat film. It's not likely, however, that this tedious and melodramatic on-the-road novel of the most formless kind will have much impact here. The story revolves around the love affair between a drifter with an unpublished novel to his credit and a beautiful girl with itchy feet who, for no discernible reason (Djian doesn't seem to believe in reasons), goes from such eccentricities as pouring paint over a car and torching a house to self-destructive madness. Her passion-driven lover follows her from place to place (none identified), flattered by her faith in his literary talents and ready to try his hand at practically anything to keep the affair afloatplumbing, housepainting, pizza-making, selling pianos and, finally, armed robbery. The lovers fail to inspire credibility, or even interest, the events smack more of fantasy than reality and every so often the generally sloppy prose sinks to the level of "A smile spread over her face like an atomic bomb." Here is one disciple Kerouac would have disclaimed.

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I was intrigued by the way she was fanning herself with the paper. It was winter after all, and despite the blue sky it was not particularly warm. The air seemed charged. Suddenly I froze-I blanched, as if I’d just stepped on a nail.

“It’s impossible!” I said.

“No, it isn’t.”

“Shit, no. It’s impossible-I left you here for ten minutes…”

“Yes, well, it was plenty of time. You want to see the order form?”

She held out the form-the one I couldn’t keep my eyes off of. I was floored. I slapped the receipt with the back of my hand.

“My God, why wasn’t it me who sold this? You want to tell me why it wasn’t…”

She came and took my arm, her head on my shoulder.

“It was you who sold it. It was thanks to you…”

“Yeah, right. Still…”

I looked around to see if some mischievous spirit wasn’t giggling behind a piano. Life tries to rattle you every chance it gets. I gave it my compliments-l saluted it for its skill at dealing out low blows. I breathed in Betty’s hair. Yes, I too knew how to cheat. I wasn’t going to be beaten so easily. I bit into the apple pie, and the miracle was accomplished-the storm went away, growling far behind me. I found myself standing before a calm sea.

“If you ask me, this calls for a celebration,” I said. “What would you like more than anything?”

“To go eat Chinese.”

“Chinese it is!”

I closed the store with no regrets. It was still a bit early, but why push your luck? One piano-I’d happily settle for that. We went off walking up the street-the sunny side-while she told me about her sale. I pretended to be interested. To be honest, it bugged me a little. I didn’t listen very closely to what she was saying; I was thinking more about the shrimp toasts I was going to scarf down. The girl bouncing around next to me reminded me of a school of glowing little fish.

We were walking past Bob’s place when he came running out, his eyes wild.

Buenos días , Bob,” I said.

His Adam’s apple was sticking out like a gigantic knuckle. It made you want to push him back into the store.

“My God! Archie’s locked himself in the bathroom! He can’t get out! What a jerk that kid is. I’m going to try to get in through the window! My God, it’s high!”

“You saying Archie locked himself in the bathroom?” I said.

“Yeah. Annie’s been trying to talk to him through the door for ten minutes, but he doesn’t answer-he just blubbers. You can hear the faucet running, too. Shit, there I was, peacefully watching TV-why do people have children…?”

I ran behind him into the yard next to the house. Betty went up into the apartment. There was a big ladder lying in the grass. I helped him prop it up against the side of the house. The sky was bright. After a brief hesitation, Bob grabbed the sides of the ladder and climbed two rungs, then stopped.

“I can’t,” he whined. “I swear I can’t. This makes me sick…”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“What do you think? I’m dizzy. What can I do? It’s like being up on a scaffold.”

I wasn’t especially acrobatic, but the second floor of a building didn’t scare me much.

“All right, come down,” I said.

He wiped his brow while I climbed up to the window. I saw Archie. The faucets were open full blast. I turned to Bob.

“I don’t see many alternatives,” I said.

He made a discouraged gesture below.

“Yeah, I know. Go ahead, break the goddamn windowpane.”

I smashed it with my elbow, opened the latch, and jumped inside. I was proud of myself-I’d compensated for the day, in extremis. I winked at Archie and closed the faucets. Snot was streaming down his chin.

“Have nice pIaytime?” I asked.

The sink was clogged and overflowing everywhere. I fixed that, then opened the door. There was Annie with the baby in her arms. Annie wasn’t bad. Her mouth was a bit floppy and she had a wild glow in her eyes-the type to avoid.

“Hiya,” I said. “Watch out for the broken glass.”

“Oh, for the love of Mike! Archibald, what’s got into you?”

Just then Bob showed up, out of breath. He looked at the puddles of water on the floor, then looked up at me.

“You can’t imagine all the stunts a three-year-old pulls. Yesterday he tried to close himself in the refrigerator.”

The baby started crying, twisting his little purple face into an abominable grimace.

“Oh darn, it’s time already,” sighed Annie.

She turned around and started undoing her buttons.

“Great, and now who’s going to wipe up this mess? Me, that’s who. I spend all day cleaning up after that little monster.”

Archie looked at his feet. He tapped them in the water. He couldn’t have cared less about what his father was saying. Betty took him by the hand.

“Come on, we’re going to read a book, you and me.”

She took Archie into his room. Bob told me to go make some drinks-he’d only be a minute. I went into the kitchen. Annie was sitting there, her nipple jammed in the mouth of Number Two. I smiled at her. I got out the glasses and lined them up on the table. We heard the bathtub emptying. I sat down at the table, having nothing else to do. Her breast was incredibly large-I couldn’t keep from staring at it.

“Hey,” I said. “You’re not kidding around there.”

She bit her lip, then answered.

“You’re telling me. You can’t imagine how hard they are. They hurt even…”

Without taking her eyes from mine, she moved her dress aside and got out the other one. It was truly impressive, I must admit. I nodded.

“Feel it,” she said. “You’ll see what I mean. Feel it…”

I thought it over for a second, then latched onto it from across the table. It was warm and smooth, with transparent blue veins in it-the type of specimen that’s a pleasure to get your hands on. She closed her eyes. I let go, then stood up to go look at the goldfish.

The whole house smelled like spoiled milk. I didn’t know if this had something to do with the dairy underneath, or if it was because of the little newborn. It was disgusting for guys like me, who don’t go in much for milk products. While she was burping him, the little tyke looked at me, dazed, then spit up on his Oshkosh B’ Goshes. I wanted to roll over and die. Bob showed up and got out a bottle.

“You will note that he only pulls this shit on my afternoons off,” he said. “Oedipus did not only fuck his mother-he also killed his father.”

“Bob, this one needs to go to bed.” Annie sighed.

“Bob, you got something to munch on?” I asked.

“Sure. Go get whatever you want out of the store.”

Annie didn’t take her eyes off me. I gave her a look as cold as a tombstone, then went down. I hate it when they think you’re easy. Stay away from easy shots-you come out better in the end. It’s never bothered me that I have a soul and know how to use it-it’s the only thing, in fact, that’s ever really interested me.

It was getting dark in the store. It took me a while to find the party-mix section. Roasted almonds have always been my vice. They were on the bottom shelf. I squatted down and loaded up. I must have been daydreaming. I didn’t hear her come in-I just felt a light breathing on my cheek. One second later, she grabbed me around the neck. She pushed my face between her legs. I let go of the almonds. I untangled myself in a hurry and stood up.

Annie seemed to be in some sort of delirious trance. She was vibrating from head to foot-bathing me with her burning eyes. Before I could come up with a good line, she popped her tits out of her dress and pressed herself against me.

“Hurry up,” she said. “For God’s sake, hurry up!”

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