Afternoon sweets, pool outside the window, stove burning, waving goodbye

Braxton 2022-09-16 15:51:08

It was only when I said "For you. For the book" that I realized that it was like this—the writer has been famous for a long time. Although the serialized commercial novels are very popular, their creative passion has been wiped out by the stereotyped writing. Tired and disappointed with a publisher (lover?) who has been working together for 20 years, is full of money, and has lost his original intention.

In a villa in the French countryside, the writer makes up a story. The story was finally revealed as the content of the author's new book, and there seemed to be some metaphors for herself:

The girl's debauchery is her behavior that goes against her writing heart and blindly caters

The girls fooling around are all unattractive and unappetizing uncles in town: writing to please the market and readers, but I don’t like it (the fans recognized it at the beginning of the film, but coldly rejected the other party’s enthusiasm)

Girl finally kills an uncle: finally determined to get rid of publishers

The final wave: a symbol of a complete farewell to the past, a search for a new publisher, and writing about what you really approve of.

The writer drank tea and yogurt at first, then went to the store to eat sweets, and ate and drank at night.

From the tense attitude at the beginning to the relaxed expression she never had when waving goodbye at the end, she no longer suppressed herself.

I don't know if there is anything to say about the crosses that have appeared many times and the scars left by car accidents, too lazy to think about it _(:з」∠)_

This translation is very deceptive. I thought it was a crime film, but it turned out to be a suspenseful literary film emmm

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Extended Reading

Swimming Pool quotes

  • Julie: [sauntering over to Sarah's lounge chair, bikini bottom without the top, long legs, bare breasts, charming raw European accent] You not too hot?

    [the older woman wakes up, startled]

    Julie: Sorry I woke you up.

    Sarah Morton: [composing herself] No.

    [sitting up]

    Sarah Morton: I was just dozing.

    Julie: [soft laugh, casually sitting down flat next to Sarah's deck chair, not at all mindful of her lack of dress] You must be working too hard. You should take a swim in the pool. The water is cold. It will wake you up.

    Sarah Morton: Ah, well, thank you for your advice, but I absolutely loathe swimming pools.

    Julie: Yeah, I know what you mean. I prefer the sea too. The ocean,

    [smiling fondly]

    Julie: the crashing waves, that feeling of danger that you could loose footing and be swept away... Pools are boring, there's no excitement, its just a big bathtub.

    Sarah Morton: [coldly summing up] It's more like a cesspool of living bacteria.

    Julie: [looking back, clearly more optimistic about life] Oh that? No, it's just a bit of dirt and leaves.

    [Sarah nods, unconvinced, set in her ways]

    Julie: So, what are you writing? A romance novel?

    Sarah Morton: [smirks at the very thought] God, no, I write crime fiction.

    Julie: Oh, yeah.

    [disapprovingly:]

    Julie: That's how he makes his money.

    Sarah Morton: [haughtily] And that's how he can afford to buy a beautiful house in France for his daughter to enjoy.

    Julie: [slight frown, reminded of her status as Daddy's girl] What about you? Are your books selling well?

    Sarah Morton: [grimly] I can't complain.

    Julie: [chummily] What is this one about?

    Sarah Morton: [as if to quell her enthusiasm by pouring cold water over her] Murders. And the police investigation.

    Julie: [giggling] In the Luberon? With rich English stories?

    Sarah Morton: [her impatience now all-out] Listen, if you don't mind, I do have work to do.

    Julie: Okay! I leave you alone, Miss Marple. I need to make some phone calls anyway.

    [walks off, her wedge heels clattering, leaving Sarah to the emptiness of her departure]

  • Julie: [in French; subtitled] AHH! You scared me!

    Sarah Morton: [in French] Who are you? What are you doing in my house?

    Julie: [in French] Your house? This is my house! I should be asking you.

    [short pause; now speaking English]

    Julie: Are you English?

    Sarah Morton: [in English] That's correct. I'm Sarah Morton, I'm a writer and my publisher, John Bosload, is letting me have this house.

    Julie: Ah, so you're Daddy's latest conquest.

    Sarah Morton: You're his daughter?

    Julie: So what? He didn't say I was coming?

    Sarah Morton: No, he didn't tell me you were coming.

    Julie: I'm not surprised. Is he here?

    Sarah Morton: No, I'm here on my own and I'm here to work, and not expecting visitors.

    Julie: [lights a cigarette] So he's not here.

    Sarah Morton: Are you going to be staying long?

    Julie: I don't know. I don't have much work these days. So, which bedroom did you take?

    Sarah Morton: The one upstairs overlooking the pool.

    Julie: Of course. That's the best one. Well, I better unpack.