In the heart of darkness, life

The-Tree-of-Life

After seeing "Tree of Life", I have long forbidden myself to write about this film. Two forces clashed in me. Subjugated by poetry, by the state of bliss in which I was plunged, I was afraid of disturbing the surface of this work. I got so tangled in the mystery of this film that I did not understand the negative reactions and was unable to have a critical mind 1 . "Tree of Life" is based on a book from the Bible, "Le Livre de Job". And this dark book speaks of the life and relationship of man to God. Which is present in many books in the Bible. But Job's book begins with a dialogue between God and Satan who play man. The impression that this inaugural dialogue leaves us is strange. Of course, the start dialogue would not be entirely from the same era as the central story. No matter in fact, the impression left is during the book. How can God play with his beloved creature? A hasty conclusion reports on the improbable of the situation. In truth, once the bark has been removed, Job's book delivers the heart of the relationship between God and man. And "Tree of Life", the film of Terrence Malick, has this same ambition.

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Emmanuel Todd or intellectual vulgarity

Emmanuel Todd was on France Culture the other morning to give us his good word. Emmanuel Todd is a prophet. He's got it. Above all, he claims it. He doesn't have the honesty. Indeed, one cannot be a prophet and an ideologue.

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The chronicler's hatred

I call this article the columnist's hatred. The French chronicler—because he is indeed dealing with a French disease—is how he invents himself master of time, of the world, and above all of how he is doing. It's unbearable. Redact the chroniclers and tear out the buds!

All these columnists together form nothing more than a Café du Commerce. With references.

I take for example the opening of the antenna of France Culture in the morning. For 30 years, I have listened to France Culture every morning. I am what is called a France Culture aficionado. Culture Matin by Jean Lebrun was part of my DNA. I loved him until his political correctness and partisanship came to the fore with the war in Yugoslavia. Fortunately, he left the ship which he seemed to scuttle all alone.

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