The Address Book
Thierry L.
TUESDAY
4.00-5.30 p.m.
I chose his name at random. He is the first on my list. I could not tell you why. He invites me to
his place and offers me a whisky. I reveal the identity of the owner of the address book. He barely
knows him.
“I’m not an intimate friend of his, and that’s what embarrasses me the most. I can tell you
about his looks. What’s very striking about him is that his eyes are hidden behind his glasses.
He looks like he is not looking, He wears very conspicuous glasses. Bad eyesight, definitely.
Physically, he looked like he walked out of a Marx Brothers movie. I see his body, the way he
walks–kind of clumsy, nearsighted. These are things I really like. He’s warm and sky, an unusual
combination. A constant stream of works, and yet totally reserved… He must be in his forties… A
good sense of humor… He would be a cool Marx Brother, a dispassionate clown. I’m sure he is
fascinated by Woody Allen. But he would be a flat Woody Allen, with no pizzazz. It’s hard to
think of more to say.”
Thierry L. has no idea where they met or when… It was probably seven or eight years ago at an
American university in Paris. Theirry L. was teaching classes in the film Theory Department. He
thinks Pierre was an instructor there at the same time. He also remembers an article on King Kong
that Pierre had published in a film magazine. I asked him for more details. He answers,
“As I said, I don't know him very well.” And yet he speaks of Pierre with such a tender
tone in his voice. I thank him for his help and leave. I sit down on the staircase.
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