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Charles est un écrivain qui n’écrit plus rien depuis longtemps. Non, quand on boit comme lui, on n’a pas une seule seconde à soi, car on ne fait que boire, et boire encore. Sa femme est partie, son fils aussi, mais il lui reste au moins une jeune Russe qui tourne autour de lui, et Louisa, sa bonne. Et son cancer. Et lui, le cancer, qui est venu sonner un matin, il ne laisse aucun répit, il pourrit sa vie. Charles n’en peut plus, et compte bien trouver une façon de s’en débarrasser. Mais ce n’est pas facile, surtout quand on sait qu’il en a contre son cerveau.
Charles Faulque is an alcoholic writer who never goes anywhere without his bottle of wine and wine bucket full of clinking ice. His work and marriage have long since fallen apart and, to make matters worse, his health fails him as well, which he finds out when his brain cancer shows up at his door. The cancer is annoying, talks too much and is here to stay, until Charles kicks the bucket. Things brighten a bit when his maid Louisa declares her love for him, though she too is soon visited by her own cancer. Their diseases befit them: the creatively blocked Charles develops brain cancer while the lonely Louise who hasn’t been with a man in years comes down with breast cancer. |
