A Tale of Love and Desire
- Ahmed, up already? - It's my first day.
Oh yes. Good luck, then.
Have a good day, Mum.
Bye.
Thank you.
I just need to see your student card.
Thank you.
Next.
Morning everyone. Welcome to First Year General Literature.
Find a seat as quickly as you can
so we don't lose five to ten minutes each session.
So, to get started,
what is literature?
To put it simply, literature today
is the combination of three subjects you've already encountered:
the novel, poetry and drama.
In you come. There's lots of space at the front.
People at the back come down here.
Don't be afraid. Words don't bite
and neither do I.
My name's Anne Morel.
This year will be intense. The course is rich, dense, but within your means.
You've chosen to major in literature
with this module in comparative literature.
Excellent choice!
A rare corpus
and a revolution to study it in year one at the Sorbonne.
So, Arab poetry.
Courtesans.
In love.
Desire. Desire.
And yet more desire.
Is that not what literature is all about?
Even at your age, you know all about that.
So, to the subject of desire.
Majnun Layla.
Ring any bells?
Literally: "Possessed by Layla".
Possessed by what?
Love, of course!
A major work from the 12th century.
A great influence on Western literature.
Elsa's Madman which of course you all know off by heart.
Or "Layla" by Clapton. Never heard of it? Not your generation?
Well do listen to it
because it's a poem by Majnun which has been translated into English.
Here's your reading list.
Pass them along.
With the addresses where you can find the books.
Those with an asterisk are the most urgent to read
for your tutorials
which, for some of you lucky people, will be taught by me.
To be read through quickly
but slowly enough to savour the intense eroticism of some of these texts.
So let's get to the heart of the matter.
Over a hundred words in Arabic describe the different states of love
with all its multiple subtleties.
From tenderness to passion.
From seduction to heartbreak
to mystical ecstasy.
This emotion is at the heart of two main poetic movements.
That of the elegiac chant where love remains platonic
to the point of merging with the divine.
"Lacking sun, know how to ripen in ice."
Simultaneously the second movement unfolds.
Dedicated to life's pleasures,
to pleasures of the flesh.
Where desire is law and pleasure reigns.
- Hey. - Hello.
- How's it going? - OK.
We're on the same course.
- Sorry? - We're doing the same courses.
Yes.
Are you off to buy the books?
I've only just arrived, I keep getting lost.
- Where are you from? - Tunis.
You speak great French.
In Tunisia, everyone speaks great French.
Excuse me.
And you? Do you speak Arabic?
A bit of Algerian Arabic. My parents are from there, but, otherwise, no.
I've heard Algeria's very beautiful.
I wouldn't know, I've never been there.
Really?
I'm Farah, by the way.
Ahmed.
Nice to meet you, Ahmed.
We're never suspicious enough of words,
they look like nothing much, not at all dangerous,
just little puffs of air,
little sounds the mouth makes, neither hot or cold
and easily absorbed, once they reach the ear
by the vast gray boredom of the brain.
- We're not... - ...suspicious enough of words
and calamity strikes.
You know it by heart?
It's a very famous quote.
The Declension of Love In Arabic Poetry
The Perfumed Garden
A Manual of Arabian Erotology
Do you know this one?
Have you read it?
Let's see.
It's a manual of Arabian erotology.
Written in the 15th century in Tunisia.
Who's it by?
Cheikh Nefzaoui.
I don't understand how come I've never heard of this.
Wow! That's mad!
Chapter 8: The Sundry Names To The Sexual Parts of Man.
So, for the penis, we can say:
"El deukkak", the striker.
"El âouame", the swimmer.
"El hakkak", the rubber.
Hilarious!
"El hammache", the exciter.
"El aouar", the one-eyed.
And what's this one? "El fortass" the bald.
Strong stuff, eh!
"El mostahi", the shamefaced one.
- I'm getting this! - You can't call that literature.
How can you say that? You haven't even read it.
It's obvious!
- You've got school on Saturday? - Yeah, I'm gutted.
- Bilal, eh? - No, it's Emma, about homework.
Give over. Give that back!
Love you, baby!
- Médé, give me that! - What did you write?
That's none of your business!
- I love you. - Give me my phone!
Good morning, children!
- Everything OK? - Fine and you?
I'm tired.
Madame Rosa didn't sleep a wink all night.
- Has Dad at least had breakfast? - Can't he get off his bum?
Right then, have a great day everyone!
Put the boxes over there on the right.
We really get to see the world with you, Karim!
- Hello! - Morning, Ma'am.
You got here fast!
I just wanted to tell you to be careful with the boxes
because the lift's very small and it's on the 7th floor.
- Hang on Krimo, we'll do that. - Yeah, careful with your back.
- Does Salima do massage? - Hey, respect if you don't mind!
- I hope you don't just talk! - Talking's the foundation.
Shagging's the foundation.
Revel like maidens, breast curves alluring
or gazelles that slow to graze and wander.
While the fly hums softly in the meadow
and a songbird trills a reply.
Very good, thank you. Mademoiselle.
Velvet is the fringe of the garden, tender the spring breeze,
the cloud, lit by lightning thunder rumbles the dark sky.
Rain bursts like tears of a lover
torn asunder from the one he loves.
Drink this ancient wine, drink deeply-
Let the spell of its song take you.
Very good.
The young man next to you.
We're at "Wine of the age of Adam."
Go ahead, take a deep breath.
You've lost your voice. Haven't heard that one in a while.
Well, I'll be expecting you to excel yourself next time, OK?
Mademoiselle, carry on for your friend.
Wine of the age of Adam!
Bearing word from the garden of sanctuary:
Wine, sweet as a rush of musk tasted on the lips' elixir kiss.
The Interpreter of Desires, Ibn Arabi, 12th century.
So, what's the main metaphor in this text?
There's still a few spaces in
Medieval Literature
or in Comparative Literature.
Greek Tragedy: The Rewriting of the Myth of Electra.
Madame Morel's course doesn't suit you?
Greek Tragedy's a good course, too.
She's actually very popular.
Right then, Greek Tragedy. The lecture's on Thursday, at 8 am.
May I have your student card?
Sorry, I need your card to confirm the change.
I still need to think about it.
- Do you have another card? - No.
Sorry, it says the code's wrong.
Put your tray back, please.
Thanks. I'll pay you back as soon as I can.
I don't understand. I'm sure my dad transferred the money.
- Aren't you on a scholarship? - No, my parents send the money to me.
Isn't the usual practice to send money to the village?
The village?
Tunis isn't the village. You need to stop that.
Foreign students are financed by their families. It's a big sacrifice.
So you're a bit of a rich kid?
A bit of a rich kid?
If I'm a rich kid then you're a zimigri.
A zimigri?
Tunisian workers who immigrate to France.
They're very conventional. Not well liked.
You're saying I'm conventional?
Yeah!
Fortunately, you're at the Sorbonne. That's a good point.
- Oh, you're giving out points? - Sometimes.
Well out of us two you're definitely the zimigri-villager.
Zimigri-villager? I'm a student. It's totally different.
OK, maybe I don't know all the codes here
and I hang out a bit too much with Tunisians but...
anyway I'm not doing any of the things I planned.
Like what?
Go out, have fun, make the most of Paris.
Be a bohemian.
How about showing me around?
Around where?
Show me around Paris.
It's your city, isn't it?
Yes.
Yes, it is.
Things to do in Paris
Trendy places in Paris
Don't close down my Facebook, I've lost my password.
Create a new one but note it down this time.
I can't. They ask too many questions.
You know Paris well, don't you?
You mean the libraries, museums and cinemas? Of course.
You never go there.
I've done all that.
So, how's uni going so far?
Term started three weeks ago, Dad!
It's beautiful.
It's the best in Paris, cheap too. You'll see, it's sick.
- Sick? - Yeah, sick.
Sick?
- It means really cool! - Ah. It's sick!
So you do Ramadan, pray and all that?
I must have had a drink a couple of times.
I just don't get the opportunity.
Like, if I drink you'll judge me?
No.
If you like reading, you've got to drink.
Why? I don't get it.
I don't know.
Wine is life.
One glass of wine and a coke.
Books are life, too.
By the way, you need to read Abu Nawas and Omar El Khyam.
The way they praise wine is
magnificent!
You'll love it.
Cheers?
To the village?
To wine!
Thank you. I love Paris even more now.
Good to get to know you better, too.
Thank you.
Médé?
Hey, Malika.
May I?
Long time, eh?
I wasn't sure if...
You know what I mean.
No worries.
That's life.
It's just a shame. We used to be friends.
So, how's it going?
I'm OK. Things are moving.
I'm in a relationship. It's serious.
Serious, like...
we're getting married.
Cool.
I guess you're happy, then?
So, what's going on with uni, Médé?
Not easy, but it's OK. It's all girls though.
Oh, yeah? Let's hear it.
Sophisticated, elegant,
middle class.
Blondes, redheads...
By the way, someone saw you at the station with Malika.
Are you guys working for the BBC or what?
Krimo, you just screwed up my daydream.
I was in a fancy neighbourhood with Médé's girls
all screaming "Saidou, Saidou!"
And you're on about Malika and commitment.
The perfect wife for Médé.
Stable, halal.
- She's found someone. - Good job you didn't touch her.
- Use the space at the back. - No worries.
Médé, come here a sec.
You don't know what's going on with the estate.
What?
I don't want to bore you with that now.
What's up?
Anyway, if I don't tell you someone else will.
It's Dalila. People are saying stuff about her.
What stuff?
Like she's going out with Bilal.
He's pretty harmless but...
she's not discreet, bro.
Bilal's nothing to worry about.
You don't get it. People are talking.
Médé's sister's done this, or that. It's gotta stop, bro.
It's your reputation at stake. And mine, too.
They're calling you The Parisian on the estate, cuz.
Is this your tea break? Give me a hand.
Be there in two.
Do you get what I mean?
I won!
- Alright? - Good, and you?
- You cheated! - No, I'm just faster.
- You can't be! - I can.
- Léa's in our class. - Hi.
She's doesn't know Paris well either, so...
Follow me, then.
All aboard for the guided tour.
Can we say "Saha" for alcohol?
Yeah, you can
but more often we say "santé" or "cheers"
or "nasdrovia".
Get it?
This way.
Those musketeer guys were totally crazy.
Like every time there was beef it turned into a duel!
I'm not talking about a little punch up.
- Even flirting. - They had class.
- They had much more class. - More charm.
For instance, see that guy coming.
Good evening, charming young sir!
Good evening, charming mademoiselles!
- See? - Yeah.
Magnificent!
What are you up to?
I'm off to see a mate.
Isn't it obvious they're with me?
No. You weren't here.
Show me some respect. Beat it. Get lost!
- Come on bro, relax! - Piss off, you hear?
- Is he a friend of yours? - Piss off!
OK, mate!
- OK, drop it. - Piss off!
Well, ladies. You have a good night, now.
- What's your problem? Move! - Enjoy your evening!
Lighten up, bro! You're making trouble for yourself.
Piss off! And you just encouraged him!
He wasn't doing anything!
Why behave like that?
He was drunk. He could've hurt you.
I can look after myself. Stop your zimigri act.
Shut up about that!
Sorry, but it's true.
- And you're judging me. - I'm not judging you.
Yes, you are. A bit.
You're not leaving us here? We don't know where we are.
- Oh no, fuck! - What?
- Fucking shit. - What?
I've sent a text to Maxence that was for Julien.
What a dumbass!
- Smart move. - Oh, it'll be OK. It's kind of general.
You're not so straight with them.
It's not like it's serious.
- They're just shags. - They're loveable shags.
That's it.
I can't decide, between the two of them, where to sleep tonight.
- Isn't your house the best place? - No.
It depends. Who's the best in bed?
Frankly, I'm really not sure.
The other night, I was at Julien's
and like, we were shagging
and the guy goes "are you OK?".
- I'd fallen asleep! - No!
I swear, I'd fallen asleep.
- Oh, mortified. - He woke me up!
My problem's the missionary position.
Just lying there. It's so boring!
You know where to go for a sleep.
Exactly.
And he's got soft skin, smells nice, he's cuddly.
Sends me straight to sleep!
That's better!
Ahmed, can you help me, please?
It's stuck.
Is it caught inside?
Sorry about this.
No worries.
Hang on, I'll help you down.
Mind your jacket.
My leg hurts a bit.
It's torn.
- Does it hurt when I press on it? - Yes.
- Oh, you're not well. - I think I'll head off.
- We'll take you back. - No worries, I know my way.
- Are you sure? - Yes, really.
- You take care, now! - Are you sure you're OK?
- Shall we walk a bit? - Yeah, OK.
Welcome.
I did tell you it's small.
- Where's the toilet? - In the hall.
Left, then right. The door in front of you.
Careful.
Wow!
Your little hideaway.
My little bit of paradise.
- Here. - It's class.
Thanks.
- Do you mind if I smoke a joint? - No, go ahead.
You see that man over there?
He's an insomniac.
What's weird is, you see the lady next door?
She's always watching the same thing as him.
And they're just separated by a wall.
It took me two months
to realise they're in the same flat.
May I?
Thanks.
We don't have to go so fast.
What's the matter?
We both want to.
Are you going?
I've got stuff to do early tomorrow.
Dalila?
Oh, fuck.
- What did you do now? - I didn't do my homework.
You didn't do your homework!
He gave me a warning.
- What a fuck up! - You're Ms Perfect?
- I didn't do anything. - Dalila!
I'll catch you up. How's the fam?
- Where were you? - What?
- Where did you sleep? - What you doing?
- Answer me! - I will.
You're bringing shame on us!
- Everyone's staring! - If mum finds out?
Stop it! What are you doing? Let go of me!
Are you insane or what?
How long's this been going on?
I've done nothing wrong.
- And your reputation? - I'm discreet!
Everyone's talking about you!
- You do what you want! - That's different.
Get out my way and leave me alone.
- Where were you? - Stop!
- Where were you? - I had to.
What do you mean?
You were with Bilal. The bros and I will sort it.
So what you gonna do? Go on, tell me.
Hanging around all day with those little weasels!
I do what I like. So what?
Get out my face, wallah. Doing my head in!
Some of you still don't know how to develop a writing plan.
- Farah Kallel? - That's me.
You've haven't understood the basics. Too eccentric. Keep to the text.
I've never had to write a critical commentary before.
In Tunisia we don't...
Sarah Vincent? Not bad. A bit more effort wouldn't go amiss.
Léa Philippon?
Slightly unusual, but quite good.
Léa Philippon?
Not here.
Ahmed Ouannas?
Plain, straightforward, direct.
It's still pretty conventional.
- It's what's required at this point. - Formatting, then?
Master the form first. Let your imagination run wild later.
Rose Petit? Some good ideas. You need to be more sure of yourself.
Théophile Sesmat?
Unsatisfactory.
Have a good week, everyone. Remember to re-read Les Orientales.
And don't forget your book.
Have a good week.
Mr Ouannas, I need to speak to you.
You still haven't signed up for your presentation.
I'm not comfortable with orals.
Everyone has to do them.
I've got one space left just before Christmas.
I'll email you the texts.
We'll be counting on you to save us from formatting.
What did she want?
I've got to do a presentation.
You forgot this.
Oh, yeah.
Thanks.
Welcome.
If this is new for you
we can take our time.
New for me?
What I mean is, I don't mind.
What are you on about?
What do you mean?
Hang on a minute. Wait for me.
Wait!
- What happened then? I don't get it. - Nothing!
I had stuff to do, that's all.
Stuff to do?
You had stuff to do.
I'm going that way.
So, what now?
It doesn't change anything.
What's that supposed to mean?
We're mates.
OK. Cool.
See you.
I ask only that you give me your hand to place on my heart, then I'll leave.
She gave him her hand. He placed it on his heart. Then he left.
I'd have to kiss each part of this body with no oversight before you are mine.
I ask only that you give me your hand to place on my heart, then I'll leave.
It says put the belgün on the belstagen.
Plank A goes on plank B.
We don't have a plank A and plank B.
This bit goes in that.
Careful.
- So what about the stag? - The stag?
Karim's stag do.
We should go to Amsterdam, to the red light district
go for a little ride.
Don't worry, my treat for everyone.
You want to pay for your first time?
If you want to die a virgin that's your business.
I'm not going anyway.
What are you doing?
- Hold it straight! - It is straight. Look!
It's not! That's your problem. Hold it straight.
- It is! - Come on, please.
- Hold it. - That's it.
Dear friend, If you would convey my greetings to her
Grief-ridden she would break down in tears
And the secret love of his heart, alarmed
Lost by one word from me would come to light
Pure love-
Prefers to turn away.
That singer's so beautiful, her eyes one look and you melt.
She looks like you, actually.
Really? Thank you!
Her stage presence is amazing.
Excuse me.
We didn't order anything.
On Fridays couscous is on the house.
Wow! Thank you.
It's not like we do it in Tunisia.
The couscous isn't cooked in the sauce?
- Is it Algerian? - I don't know.
- Thanks. - Thanks very much.
Aren't you Algerian?
Yes, but not all Arabs make couscous.
Yeah, OK.
No one makes boeuf bourguignon in my house, either.
So, how come you two know each other?
We grew up in the same village in Burgundy.
Middle of nowhere. We've known each other ages.
Then my parents moved to Paris so we lost touch.
- He abandoned me. - True. I did.
- Now you've found each other again. - Mad, isn't it?
And Damien invited himself tonight because he's very interested, attracted
by anything to do with the Orient and all that.
Know what I mean?
- It's true! - Yes, it is.
He adores couscous.
With such a beautiful woman.
More vegetables?
Loads of things, like, I dunno, maybe he's impotent...
...premature ejaculation? Oh, that's so bad.
Fuck...
It's possible. Or maybe he's a virgin?
That only happens to me.
Or maybe he's a closet homosexual.
- He's gay! - I dunno...
Could be...
Small dick?
So, what you up to?
You got a good mark for Morel's oral. I need some advice.
Could you help me out?
Well, what I do is I learn it off by heart.
So I can look my audience in the eye. That's so important.
You need to constantly keep eye contact.
- What? - I'll never be able to do that.
Why do you say that? Really...
You've nothing to lose. You're thinking too much.
You've nothing to lose. At least try.
It's easier said than done.
What are you scared of?
People will be interested in what you have to say.
So what are you scared of?
Frankly for once, try to see something
through to the end.
What are you trying to say?
I read your commentary.
So, explain your line of thinking.
My line of thinking?
I dunno...
I needed an idea. That was the first one I came up with.
Why?
Exactly. 'Cos your first idea isn't necessarily the best.
It needs to work for the whole text.
You have to read it and reread it before you start. That's important.
You're right. You're totally right.
I'm always in so much of a hurry. That's probably why.
Exactly. It spoils everything.
It's important to know that sometimes, you need to take the time.
OK, I've got the message!
Are you going out with Damien?
- Nah. - What do you mean "nah"?
We got to know each other.
He's a bit needy but he's cute. He's cool.
He even invited me for Christmas.
If you don't like him, don't go.
I didn't say that.
I didn't say that, it's just...
I don't want to be alone in my room on Christmas Eve.
It's a pretty rubbish plan.
I'd have liked to invite you to my house
but we just do a simple dinner.
We don't do anything special.
Oh, yeah?
That sounds really nice.
Perfect. I'd much rather come to yours.
Perfect, then.
If you want, I can cancel.
No, that's not done. A Tunisian girl. That's good.
- Mum, she's just a friend. - Of course. I know.
It's true. she's a friend. That's all.
Don't try that one on your mama.
Don't forget I'm from Annaba.
That's right next to Tunisia.
So Tunisian or Annaba. It's all the same.
And she's not going home afterwards.
She'll sleep in Dalila's room.
What's that about Dalila?
At Christmas, Ahmed's girlfriend will sleep in your room.
No way! She's not sleeping in my room.
Not on Christmas night!
Yes she will.
She's not going home alone. I feel responsible to her parents.
Why's it always me on the sofa?
Cool for you. You get to invite some girl to our house?
Hasn't she got parents? Family? She's all alone?
Of course she does, but they're in Tunisia.
Cool for you, eh?
To finish, a word about how it all ended for our poet.
One of the many versions of the myth is
having devoted his poetry and his life to Layla
Majnun, The Possessed
received a visit from Layla.
Her husband had just died
liberating her from all that had prevented them being together.
You've done the hardest part but we still can't hear you.
So don't deprive us of these delights. Speak up in honour of Majnun,
at least for your conclusion.
So Majnun receives a visit from Layla.
She's the woman of his dreams
to whom all his poems are dedicated.
She comes to offer herself to him.
Now there's nothing to stop them being together.
And yet Majnun refuses to see her.
Why?
This episode seems to be particularly significant.
We see how much the object so sung about and desired
is not intended to become real
but to remain a source of poetry.
By remaining a fantasy, it is poetic and therefore almost divine.
If this story seems to be a classic love story
in Western literature
where two lovers are forbidden to live their love
here, there is a fundamental difference:
it's the poet-lover himself
who refuses to live love in the carnal sense.
For Majnun, poetry is born from the forbidden.
Layla must remain his muse.
Reality would be certain to be a disappointment.
To live out their love would be to demean it.
In Arab poetry, the number of poets who died for love is immeasurable.
Their only obstacle:
Themselves.
Can pure love be consummated?
Should it be?
The question remains unanswered.
Thank you, Mr Ouannas.
I see you've done your research.
However, your theory favours one particular version of the myth.
Don't forget that other literary currents co-existed
which sang of carnal pleasures.
But good work. Thank you.
I wish you all a good holiday
and work hard for your mid-term exams.
Tunisia has always been a modern country
thanks to Bourguiba and especially regarding women's rights.
But people still can't speak out there. Bourguiba had already muzzled everyone.
That's why the revolution was such a shock, especially in Algeria.
But in the end, it's a long process.
The real question is is there a worthy successor?
Frankly, I doubt it.
It's like for us. No one has a true vision for the country.
In Tunisia people are tired. Everything's breaking down.
It's getting harder every day. It's a good thing civil society exists.
Isn't it hard being far away?
I think it does me more good than bad.
I'm hoping to get into a good school of journalism afterwards.
So the Sorbonne's good.
Did you know I was a journalist?
No, I didn't.
We were forced to leave Algeria because of threats.
So now I'm here.
A nobody.
Just another unemployed person.
I'd have preferred to have died there.
What about your mum? Do you miss her?
Of course I miss her but we talk on the phone a lot.
She's really happy I'm here.
She doesn't want me to go back after uni.
She thinks there's no future in Tunisia.
My son is my great hope.
Always writing stories as a boy.
Perhaps he'll be a famous author.
Algeria has a great literary tradition.
That's true.
No one cares about girls, here.
- Girls don't have any... - Oh, come on.
If anyone in this family is to succeed, it's you.
You're incredible.
That's enough, you suck up.
It's hard for girls on the estate but you're a fighter.
It's hard for guys, too but it's not so obvious.
- Don't expect sympathy from us. - Totally!
So sweet of you, giving me these little presents.
That's OK.
Hang on a tic.
Look at you, so cute.
- I should've taken them down. - No, so sweet!
You really want me to read this.
No, it's just that I think it's incredibly modern.
Oh, amazing!
"The Stranger, Banquet Speech..."
To share what I like with you, Ahmed.
You never told me you write.
I don't know why my dad said that.
The writing the wrong way round always fascinated me.
Why do you think it's the wrong way round?
For me it's the right way round.
It says: For Ahmed Ouannas,
for your sumptuous career as a writer.
Médé?
We'd better go. It's our Christmas tradition.
- Come on, it's starting! - Coming!
This is my favourite bit.
So funny.
- Do you like it? - Yes, it's funny.
The Perfumed Garden
The languishing eye Puts in connection soul with soul,
And the tender kiss takes the message from member to vulva.
The kiss is assumed to be an integral part of coition.
The best kiss is the one impressed on humid lips
combined with the suction of the lips and tongue,
which latter particularly provokes
the flow of sweet and fresh saliva.
It is for the man to bring this about
by slightly and softly
nibbling
her tongue,
until
the moment where the tongue feels the effect,
when her saliva will flow
sweet,
exquisite,
more pleasant than refined honey,
and which will not mix with the saliva of her mouth.
In kissing her,
I have drunk from her mouth
The kiss should be sonorous,
it originates with the tongue
touching the palate, lubricated by saliva
Happy, yet sad, daring yet shy, bold yet tentative.
Guilt, no apparent schema to explain his feelings.
What's your problem?
Hey, man, you scared the shit out of me!
See what I bought?
- You just bought that? - I did, bro.
- Awesome. - I was waiting for you. Let's go!
- No, It's OK. - It's OK? It's New Year's Eve.
Oh, yes!
Look at you, dude!
Off to Paris, are we?
Wanna lift? I've got two helmets.
Saidou, I know your game. You're not crashing my night, bro.
- Oh come on, don't be precious. - I said, no.
Afraid I won't fit in? I can talk fancy like you!
They don't know you.
Ah, it's the girl you brought home the other day?
I get it now. You guys are all working for the cops.
OK, then.
Go do your thing, sell your soul. I don't give a fuck.
- After all I've done for you. - Like what?
Piss off to your party. Fucking collaborator.
In fact, you're just a traitor.
You're really going!
It's raining an' all. Piss off, then!
- Excuse me, have you got a light? - No.
Are they scared of us?
- They think we're hood rats. - You reckon?
They're Arabs, too.
They're not like the Arabs I know.
They're not real Arabs.
More like "Oreos".
Hey, twenty in 2020!
You drinking alcohol?
You insisted on coming so shut up, OK?
- Léa, this is Saidou. - Hey!
Do you want a drink?
Definitely!
Have you been here long?
About half an hour.
- There you go. - Cool, thanks!
Cheers!
But watch out, it's strong.
- See what I mean? - Hey! Robust!
Listen up, I've got a mission for you:
If I get too drunk tonight you get me a glass of water, OK?
You up for it? I wanna stay up all night for New Year.
Deal? Cheers, then.
Nice shirt.
Ten, nine, eight...
seven, six...
Happy New Year!
Are you going?
- Are you going? - Yeah.
- I want to go home. I want... - What's up?
What's up? Are you serious? Are you taking the piss?
I was trying to kiss you. You were checking no one was looking.
Do you think that's normal?
Do you think it is?
It was your friends. They're all racist. All staring at me.
Making me feel I'm not like them.
My friends? You know perfectly well I hardly know them.
Anyway, you're so closed off. Always on the defensive.
I wanted to help you, but it's not possible.
- Help me? - Yeah.
Help me to do what?
You know what? Stay as you are. It's your loss.
- Wait! Don't be like that. - Happy New Year, lovebirds!
Why are you reacting like that?
Are you serious?
Why am I reacting like this?
I care about you. I'm in love with you, don't you see?
No, you don't. Stop, back off.
I don't want someone who doesn't know what he wants. Or a macho!
You think I've been out with a million guys
I've been out with one.
Stop!
I see I'm back in favour now. You're unbelievable!
Look.
We're done. I don't want anything from you any more.
I don't want friendship or anything.
I just can't do this.
Come in, please. Sit down.
Sit down quickly, please. The exam's about to start.
Right, you can begin now.
You have two hours.
Good luck.
Mr Ouannas, you do understand what this means?
What's up guys. Still here then?
Médé why aren't you at uni?
Don't you know? Paris kicked him out.
What you on about?
They don't want him. Look at him, bro.
He don't care what's been goin' on here, he disappeared for 2 months!
Ain't that crazy? Paris makes people crazy, man.
Look how he dresses now!
- You're good for nothing, useless! - It's OK. He's joking.
- Shut the fuck up! - You're useless!
- Useless! - We're the same you and me.
- Are you mental? - Fuck you!
Fuck me? Anyway, why aren't you at uni?
I'm talking to you!
- I've given up. It's not for me. - To do what?
That life's for you! A good job as a teacher, school holidays...
Is this because of Farah?
Léa told me Farah's really into you.
- You're going out with Léa? - Yeah!
- You really are dumb. - Why?
Fuck it, she shags everyone!
That's what I like about her. She's got experience.
She started hitting on me. Trying to kiss me and stuff.
I wasn't ready for that.
- You're not happy for me? - No, it's cool. Great.
For all the time you've been breaking my balls about women. Great.
Farah, Farah, Farah...
Stressing at every word Wary of the slightest movement
The slightest movement
The strain of a stupid smile Killing me
Nothing but an idiot Repeating idiocies
Nothing but skin Calling for your poetry
Reaching out, We go towards something else
Tension and tension
Tension and nothing
All is folly As long as we don't kiss
All is idiocy As long as we don't touch
And still nothing
Yet moments of grace
Time spent with you
A word is enough for me Enough for you
No longer enough not enough Gaze lowered from impatience
Can't lie anymore shouldn't tell you Want you want you
But I'll run away and I run I run
Waiting for you to catch me But you don't catch me
Farah, Farah, Farah!
Want you but I'll run away Want you and I run and I run
Waiting for you to catch me but I'll run away
I run away but you don't catch me...
Farah, Farah, Farah!
Médé, are you dead, or what?
Seriously? Are you asleep?
- Hey, Dad No 2, what's up? - Go away.
Come on, wake up!
Get up. It's late.
What's with you? Why are you in bed?
You were right. Guys are weak.
It doesn't take much to get you depressed.
Wake up!
OK. Girls are stronger than guys. Now please, go away.
No. So, what's up? Tell me.
It makes me really sad to see you like this.
I can give you some advice. I can help you.
Tell your sis all about it.
Ahmed, come on!
OK, I'm watching a film if you fancy it. I'll just grab the laptop.
- What's up? - Give me that.
- Hold back fighting bull! - Give me that.
- What's up? - Give it to me.
You have no new messages.
Sent messages
So, go ahead.
I'm sorry I missed the mid-term exam. I had no choice.
Please, give me a second chance.
I imagine you have a good reason.
Yes.
- But it's personal. - I'm afraid it's not that simple.
But you can always repeat my course next year.
If I don't pass I'll lose my grant.
Your classmates all saw you leave.
I can't give you special treatment.
I'm afraid you'll have to fight harder than that, my friend.
There's no place for people like me.
That attitude will comfort all those who desire your defeat.
It's a shame.
- Faouzia, come here. - What is it?
- Come here. - Why?
The revolution's started. It's over for them.
- When was that? - Today.
Today. OK!
- Do you know that area, Dad? - Yes, it's in the centre.
That's the main drag. Didouche. I used to live there.
That's where your dad lived.
By the way, you've got a letter.
Fantastic!
I was wondering, can you read Arabic?
No, 'fraid not.
But Salima can.
Why? Do you want to learn it, Inshallah?
No.
Actually, I've got a poem I want to translate.
I can ask her to translate it if you want.
The problem is I don't know exactly what it says.
It might be a bit...
erotic...
It might not be, but...
An erotic poem in Arabic?
It's a text from the 10th century.
Why do you want to translate that?
For my course.
What a coincidence.
Is that the image they want to give of us now?
I reacted just like you, at first.
But in fact, in ancient times, Arabs
had textbooks which advocated physical pleasure. Inebriation.
Know what? The only people here who read Arabic
are Salima, my dad and the Imam.
Don't laugh because it's really not funny.
Isn't it crazy we don't know our own culture?
Oh come on, that's not our culture.
In actual fact, it is.
Médé you need to be careful. It's crazy how you're changing.
I'm changing...
Are you happy?
Really happy?
Yeah.
I've got a profession.
I've got a project.
And then with the wedding. Course I am.
I dunno.
You don't feel like you've bought
the Perfect Arab Life Kit?
You sit where you're supposed to sit
you don't make too much noise or move too much.
In the little box they gave you.
Did you just come round to insult me?
Have you become a white man now?
Not at all.
Why do you say that?
Leave my house, please.
I thought you and I understood each other.
I said, leave my house.
Go on! Leave!
You've read all these books.
Most of them.
But you and mum didn't teach us Arabic?
It wouldn't have been any use to you.
Was it for you to decide?
You shut yourself off from everything.
Even from us.
Come over here and sit down.
Come on.
When we arrived here
all that was available was labouring work.
I chose not to do that.
It's hard to not find one's place in society.
I didn't feel I should share that.
You can still learn it. It's not too late.
When you were little, I spoke to you in Arabic and you understood me.
Have you read ancient Arab poetry?
Yes.
Some of it's a bit...
A bit what?
A bit audacious?
Audacious?
It was more like a sort of belle époque.
Can you translate this please?
A lover in great suffering.
The clouds are disciples To my tormented eyes
Raining down on the universe This monotonous rain
And this night, in tears
Will it heal me of you, tomorrow?
Watching over me Will it keep me company?
For if it dispels the darkness
Sleep will be unable To close my eyelids
I've lost the path of light
With each passing moment My insomnia grows
As if the clouds Veiled the brightness of the stars
From eyes that so desire To contemplate them
Like your love, deep in my soul
Oh, my invisible desire
Which allows itself not To be deciphered.
Adaptation: Olga Helm
Subtitling TITRAFILM