Everyone has a secret desire. Come in, walk into their homes, learn about their lives, and steal their secrets. Like the fragile and sensitive mucous membrane between tissues, others are both familiar and unfamiliar to us - we live in the same material world, but have different feelings, memories, and thoughts.
On the surface, it was only Claude who stole the secrets of the Hoffa family and the Germains successively. In fact, the Germains were also spying on the process of reading the composition. Isn't the reading of words and the watching of movies all a kind of snooping? We are all spying, not just observing the world with a bamboo tube, but also stroking at the junction of this strange and familiar relationship, feeling the throbbing from the tail vertebra to the top of the head. We are fascinated by this.
Having superb skills in a certain field is another kind of entry.
Claude followed the guidance of Mr. Germain and entered the classroom in literary writing. Sharp eyes unbearable? Substitute yourself. Characters lack conflict? Then arrange a mission for him. Are the characters dark? Then spark the show with something violent.
Germain has a good literary aesthetic, but lacks creative inspiration and can only teach mediocre students. Germain's wife, the derided "middle-class lady", runs a modern art gallery. Only Claude, with his enviable artistic inspiration, can turn ordinary life into works of art with different shapes.
No artistic talent, or even lack of artistic taste, does not affect the middle-class lady lying at Claude's feet, offering a wreath of love and honey. Bad writers who can appreciate art even ignite a bonfire of jealousy and joy and jump into it. Only the young Bacchus took the wreath and drank and danced around the bonfire.
Watching, scrutinizing, spying.
Do you also want to enter the hall?
View more about In the House reviews
