Confession of a Child of the Century

It was in circumstances such as these

that I was stricken by the disease of the century.

The man I had caught in my mistress' arms was one of my closest friends.

It was the first time I had seen a monster.

Back to back!

A moment of distraction, I...

I was never his, I swear! I...

I made a mistake, not committed a crime!

If you leave me, it will kill me!

Cock your pistols!

Walk!

Aim!

Fire!

It's the arm, he's alright!

What was I going to do with myself?

I had no situation, no occupation.

I had studied a little law, a little medicine, but I had given up.

I was writing a little.

Are you sure you won't come?

I would rather stay here.

You don't go out anymore. You don't see anyone!

I'm trying to think.

You think too much!

- Hmm? - You think too much!

I gave up long ago.

Thinking is out of fashion!

These days one has to mock!

Ask me the question, 'What do you believe in?'

What do you believe in?

In nothing!

Forget that woman!

If she's such a great loss, I mean, take the first woman that comes along!

What are you talking about?

You may show me trees, houses...

birds, blue sky...

Men who talk, and drink... women who dance!

Horses that gallop!

That's not life!

It's not life! It's... it's the sound of life!

Go.. go now.

Let me rest!

Then rest in peace, my friend.

Your life is a funeral!

Well?

Well?

I know what happened Octave, Elise told me everything.

I'm her closest friend, and yet...

Tell her, Madame...

Tell her that I'm sad.

So this whole business is beyond repair?

There really is no solution?

Nothing is beyond repair...

except for the pain that is killing me every day!

My story is quite simple to tell.

I can neither love her,

nor love another,

nor go on, without love.

I have been in love too.

He left me too.

Excuse me, Madame...

I'll get out here, Madame.

I feel dizzy.

But it's about to rain!

The great reason that was preventing me from recovering was my youth.

I thought only of women.

Possessing a woman meant loving,

and I no longer believed in the possibility of loving.

You should kill me!

I have lied to you.

I am loathsome and pitiful.

But I love you.

I can't live without you.

Is that you, Frederic?

We're going to be late!

I had lived only through that woman.

To doubt her was to doubt all.

To curse her, to renounce all.

To lose her... to destroy all.

I belong to a generation of youth born in war, for war.

Sons of the Empire, grandsons of the Revolution!

We left our schools, and no longer seeing sabres, nor cuirasses,

asked where our fathers were.

We were told that the war was over.

An anxious youth then sat on this world in ruins.

That's a true story!

I think she said, there's a relation...

That's Anna Morel, actually...

Then we can't...

Two sides had lined up.

On the one hand, exalted minds lowered their heads and wept.

On the other, the men of flesh remained standing amid the rebels.

And their sole concern was to count the money they had.

Let's drink to the idiocy of this government

which gives us such power over idiots!

Liberty has given birth to anarchy,

and anarchy leads to tyranny, and tyranny restores liberty!

But think of all the millions of men who have died

trying to make one of these systems triumph. And they've all failed!

Our century is laughing amid ruins!

And the moral world goes round this vicious circle!

Men try and make things better,

they're just moving things around!

Ah, politic bores me!

From now on the world belongs to the bankers!

Let us drink to the power of gold!

The rich man is in power, he's the king, he can do anything!

He's above everything! He doesn't obey the laws, the law will obey him!

There is no guillotine, no executioner for millionnaires!

Oh shut up you sceptic! You have ridiculed every power there is!

It is as vulgar as to deny God!

Hope for heaven! There is a commercial idea!

Deus Ignotus! To gods unknown!

A feeling of inexpressible discomfort began to ferment in all young hearts.

Sentenced to rest by the world sovereign

Sentenced to idleness and boredom,

the anxiety of death wormed its way into their soul.

If it was tantamount to a negation of all things,

then one can call it disenchantment or desperation, if one prefers.

The disease of the century.

- Take me now... - ... stay together!

I am the cat!

I am the cat, I tell you!

- I am the cat! - I am the cat!

Come here!

I am the cat, I am the cat!

The discovery of debauchery is like dizzyness.

At first we feel a sort of terror, mingled with voluptuousness.

The first movement is surprise.

The second, horror.

And the third... pity.

From that day on, I changed my life completely.

One may hesitate for twenty years before taking this step,

but cannot back away, once one has taken it.

It was not long before the whole of Paris

had declared that I was the greatest libertine.

Desgenais was delighted with me.

But while my vanity occupied itself in this manner,

my heart was suffering.

Virtually all the time, there was within me one man who was laughing

and another who was crying.

Once however, I was on the verge of falling in love.

Hello!

Old boy! How are you?

Have you been loved?

Do you want to be loved?

Are you a queen? Are you good or evil?

What are you doing there?

Will you come?

Yes.

Of course.

You're so beautiful!

Will you come?

Yes, I'm... I'm coming!

Just coming.

Take along with you the first man,

and say to him,

these are people who spend their lives wallowing in all forms of pleasure.

Women, as many as they want!

They are rich, every day is a holiday for them!

What do you think?

Unless he's sternly and deeply religious he would reply that he

could not conceive of greater happiness

Now, say to the same man: 'Look, this is your life!'

You are the happiest of men!

All your desires are realities.

Only be careful you don't read too much,

or find your body, no longer able to enjoy pleasure.

That'd be a great misfortune!

Beware of disgust.

It's an enduring disease.

A dead man is better than a living one who is disgusted of life.

Do you have a heart?

Beware of life.

What's worse than the disease of debauchery, is ridicule.

Do you have a conscience?

Beware sleep.

Do you have a body?

Beware suffering!

Do you have a soul? Beware despair!

Each woman that you kiss takes a spark of your happiness

without ever giving you one of hers.

You keep exhausting yourself with ghosts.

You must die!

You're the enemy of everything that loves!

But do not wait for old age.

Do not leave a child on the earth, do not fertilise a corrupt blood!

Erase yourself.

Like smoke.

This is what you taught me!

You've come too late, I'm afraid.

Your father would have liked to have seen you one last time.

Farewell my son.

I love you.

I am done.

Whatever suffering passion may cause,

one must not compare life's sorrows, with those of death.

Every day I visited his tomb,

the rest of the time I lived alone.

I lived the life my father had left

and for the first time in my life, I was happy.