Hello, I'm your New Friend

“Last summer in Eyragues, fed up with the sun, the swimming pool, tapenade, wood-smoked sausages and the obligatory pastis, I decided to put an end to my life. By drowning. At midnight I stole softly down to the bathroom. I put the plug in the sink and I let the water run on the nape of my neck with my nose in the basin. Just as I started to run out of air, Christine appeared at the door and said, “Washing your hair at midnight? Things must be getting bad!”

Painting a self-portrait with light brush strokes is like walking a tightrope. You have to tiptoe between a foreshortened image and a still photo to find the right position in which the character can come to life.
Marc Villard looks scathingly at family life and work, heart-rending memories, and vaguely distressing adventures. He may be sincere but he is also cunning. We no longer know if “I” is someone else. Who is “I”?