Original subtitles

When your baby

Leaves you all alone

And nobody

Calls you on the phone

Don't you feel like crying?

Don't you feel like crying?

But here I am, honey

C'mon, and cry to me

When you're all alone

In your lonely room

And there's nothing

But the smell of her perfume

Don't you feel like crying?

Don't you feel like crying?

Don't you feel like crying?

Come on and cry to me

JANE AUSTEN WRECKED MY LIFE

"I've been reading Tolstoy for over a month now

to impress you."

"I always read the same page

because I spend my time admiring you.

"I hope you'll notice me one day."

"You were wearing the burgundy dress

and reading Vivian Gornick's Fierce Attachments

on the first floor."

"My only regret is that I didn't dare to speak to you."

"Your white skin, your mouth, your shoes have captivated me."

"I'm tall, dark and voracious."

"And you?"

Who's this bug?

What are you doing here?

Are your PJs in the wash?

Yes.

What a comfortable pillow!

Nice and fluffy.

Where's your mum?

She's asleep. There's a guy in her bed.

How do you know there isn't one in mine?

I've never seen one...

Maybe he's hiding under my bed!

-Hey. -Hey.

Tom, my son, and Agathe, my sister.

And this is...

-Raphael. -Gabriel.

Hi.

Bye, pumpkin.

I'm late, I'm opening the pool at 8:00.

I'd love a green tea.

I'm coffee intolerant.

Sorry.

Bye, zebra. I'll pick you up at teatime.

See you later!

Bye, er, Raphael.

Gabriel.

Right...

A bit of a memory issue.

You're so bloody slow!

God, you're so slow!

Are you okay?

Shit, sorry.

She's barking.

My little secret

is the stewed onions.

Look, it's her again.

I can't stand her anymore.

Ever heard of the concept of "breadcrumber"?

-"Breadcrumber"? -"Breadcrumber?"

No, never.

It was tailor-made for you.

What is it?

You give girls attention,

the hope of something special, but never commit.

You leave everything to stew!

Girls, onions...

See?

You keep them hanging on...

-Hey! -...just in case.

Give me a break! What would you know anyway?

Your only relationship is with your sandwich.

You're so vulgar, madam.

With that drop of sauce, you're disgusting too!

No, stop!

Shit!

All right?

Hang on.

When did you last shag?

Speak properly. I can't understand you.

Come on, tell me the truth.

Shut it!

What are you waiting for?

Mark Darcy?

Afraid he'll never show up?

-I'm not afraid. -Sure you are.

You're scared of suffering, love affairs, one-night stands.

You're scared of apps.

You're scared. You don't live, you hide.

I don't, it's just that...

I'm not into Uber sex.

I don't do digital. I don't want to have to "like" guys

or hear them tiptoe off so as not to wake me up.

I'm not living in the right century.

-Agathe? -Yes.

Let go.

I'm not sure I can write to a dead person.

Nobody's forcing you to be here.

You churn out cheap romances.

It wouldn't hurt to explore something else.

You need to be in tune with the times, Agathe.

Excuse me.

Oui?

Could I have the ladies' version?

-I'll fetch one right away. -Thank you.

-It's on the house. -Thank you.

-Voil�. -Thank you.

Wear your green socks. Change socks.

F�lix is snoring on our couch!

Again?

Wake him up. Tell him to make you toast.

His feet stink!

I know, but he's sweet.

Hey.

A�e.

Sorry, sorry.

Why are you still here?

Hey, Bukowski, could you go take a shower?

Don't push it, you!

Whoa.

You read it? It isn't even finished!

-F�lix, that's not on. -Calm down.

It's good.

Very good, even.

Seriously. It's a little weird like you, but...

it's touching.

It's not bad at all.

What happens next?

I don't know, as usual.

It's the umpteenth story I've started and can't finish.

You must. I want to know what happens next.

Okay?

Writing in English suits you.

It's really good.

There you go.

That's Sense and Sensibility.

-Okay, thank you. -My favorite.

Um, I think it's a good way to start with Jane Austen.

-Thank you. -You're welcome.

Don't hesitate if you've got any more questions.

All right.

Do you have a Jane Austen for every circumstance?

Yes.

"oui."

What would you recommend to me?

Mansfield Park.

-Henry Crawford is you. -Why?

He's a liar and a seducer.

A Casanova caught out at his own game when he falls in love.

Okay.

And who would you be?

Anne Elliot in Persuasion.

Anne Elliot. Anne Elliot. Anne Elliot.

Why?

Because she's an old maid

who has wilted like a flower in need of water.

She has let life pass her by.

For an old dried-up flower, you smell good.

What's that?

An invite from the Jane Austen Residency

to spend two weeks at their writers' retreat.

They liked my first chapters?

Fuck, don't tell me it was you!

You needed a kick up the ass.

Thanks.

But I can't.

-Why? -You know why.

-Don't bail. -How do I get there? By bike?

Great idea!

Let's call Mona and celebrate.

No, forget it. You won't change my mind.

You're so annoying. I could bite you.

Can I help you?

Yes, please.

Would you have a first edition of Lawrence Durrell?

-You okay, pumpkin? -Yes.

-Did you sleep well? -Yes.

When does the retreat start?

Tom, do you want to go to the zoo?

Yes! I'll get dressed.

-Can I say something? -Nope.

I'm going to, anyway.

It starts in three days.

I can cover for you at the bookshop.

So we're good.

Plan to spend your life cycling around Paris,

moaning about writer's block?

Leave me alone, you two! I can't go, okay?

I can't get back in a car.

Is that clear enough?

A�e.

What the hell are you doing?

Duh, eating. I'm hungry.

Really?

Cold pasta at 2:00 am...

Can't you be like Duras?

Drink whisky, take pills, something a bit more flamboyant?

Nice. Thanks.

Hey...

what the fuck is wrong with you?

I know you're disappointed but this trip is too much for me.

You stupid cow!

I'm sick of your bullshit.

You've put your life on hold since the accident.

You refuse to go back to the Bergeronette.

I've had to spend every summer there

alone with Tom since he was born.

Sorry.

Are you okay?

No. I'm having a panic attack.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

-I can't. -Come on, breathe.

-Give me a cigarette. -No! You struggled to quit.

-Give me a fucking cig! -Hang on, calm down.

Here you go.

Give me one.

What are you doing? Cut that out!

Agathe, you're such a pain.

Excuse me, a dangerous individual

is hiding in your group.

Give me a break!

F�lix, do you honestly think

I'm a match for published authors?

Of course! You've just got impostor syndrome.

No, I don't, I'm a genuine impostor.

In my heart I have a funny Sicilian song

That you know by heart

Because my life resembles yours

I love you more Than the volcanoes of Italy

When the sound of glasses Of Chianti still rings out

Remember this?

Whoa,

I love you the Italian way

Whoa,

I love you the Italian Way

My heart pounds

I speak with my hands

And I see red

When you talk to anyone

When the south wind Plays la musica

I sing along with it Just for you

Whoa,

I love you the Italian way

Whoa,

I love you the Italian Way

It feels good to see the sea.

Oui.

You were right.

I miss the Bergeronette.

I know.

Here...

for your nerves, take half a pill on the ferry

and the other half before bed.

You'll feel better, okay?

How do you know I won't get anaphylactic shock or--

It's me.

Agathe Robinson, it's me.

Sorry, I thought you'd be much older. Um...

I was asked to collect an elderly lady.

I'm Oliver Lowe. I'll be driving you.

Is that your car?

-Yes. Yeah, that's-- -Right.

I must warn you about something.

I'm really not comfortable when it comes to cars.

It panics me to be in a car. It's...

Sorry, my head is kind of spinning all of a sudden.

Are you all right?

I'm really sorry.

No, it's all right.

Um, these things happen.

-Nice shoes, by the way. -Thank you. Um...

Yeah, thank you.

I'm fine.

-Good. -We can go.

So, have you been working a long time

for the Jane Austen Residency?

I'm Jane Austen's great, great-great-great-nephew.

Wow.

Yeah. My parents set up the Jane Austen Residency,

but, um, I am not really part of the fan club.

I'm just helping out because my father

recently lost his driver's license.

Right.

And what do you normally do for a living then?

I teach contemporary literature at King's.

Sorry.

You teach literature, but you despise Jane Austen?

I just think her work is a little overrated.

She has a rather limited scope

if you compare her writings to, say,

Dickens or Shakespeare.

Do you know what the real problem is?

What?

Well, until Jane Austen came along,

all female roles were solely written by men.

And they were either portrayed

as idealized perfection or monsters.

Jane Austen made them human beings, that's all.

Even capable of humor.

Um...

Hang on.

What's going on?

Nothing, don't worry.

It's...

Blasted car!

Shit!

Fucking thing.

Take that.

Hello?

Not at all. I don't know where we are.

Our car just broke down in a forest.

Plus I'm stuck

with Jane Austen's great-great-great-nephew.

No, he's unbearable, really arrogant

and totally stuck-up.

I've never seen the like.

I threw up on his shoes, too.

Hello? Mona?

Shit, I'm out of battery!

Fuck.

Fuck it.

I speak French, you know.

Shit.

Sorry.

I lived with a French woman for five years.

One of my worst-ever decisions.

And you're rude to French women because she dumped you.

You don't know how to fix your car, do you?

Not a clue.

Do you have service?

None.

Okay.

Okay.

Is the next village far?

About 20 miles.

It'll be dark soon.

Okay, okay.

So what do we do now?

We wait.

What's the other option?

We decide who eats who to survive.

Okay.

What's your problem with cars?

Um...

I was in a crash with my parents.

My dad had a stroke and lost control of the car.

They were killed instantly.

I was in the back and escaped with injuries.

I'm sorry.

It is what it is.

If you're cold...

It's not much, but...

Thank you.

Try to get some sleep.

Yep.

Are you whistling La Marseillaise?

Jesus Christ.

-Thank you so much. -You're welcome.

You're enjoying this?

Kind of.

Welcome to the Jane Austen Residency.

Thank you.

You're incredibly young!

I thought you were much older.

-You speak French? -Yes.

I love it!

I'm sorry about last night.

My son Oliver insists on driving that old car.

Give me your coat. Voil�.

That's it.

Thank you.

Um...

To be honest, I haven't eaten for ages

and I'm starving. If I could grab...

My dear.

You've come to the right place for a proper English breakfast.

You're free to write wherever you like,

to stroll on the grounds...

And we always hold a ball

at the beginning of autumn.

A ball!

And a public reading of your work in progress.

Is the public reading...

compulsory?

Yes, my dear, but it's all very casual.

You'll see.

I hope you'll be inspired here.

Your agent said you needed peace and quiet

because of your age.

My agent?

I thought it was the bathroom!

What a direct approach.

I'd be grateful if you locked your side too.

Thank you!

l�, l�.

Killing is the logical conclusion

of revolutions.

He who ignores the desire to kill

may well hold subversive opinions,

but he will never be anything more than a conformist.

Marxist feminism,

as found in transcriptions of speeches by Clara Zetkin,

raises the issue of the manipulation of women,

first and foremost as a working and political force,

before their consideration as individual and thinking beings.

Write me down

Cover me up

Swallow my face

Mute my voice Hear my whisper

Listen to my cry...

-Think you've missed the point. -Yes.

-And missed its meaning. -You get it wrong.

Friends,

we're now gathered together all of us,

we can begin this year's writers' residency.

Ch�ryl, Olympia, Sybil,

it's a joy to welcome you again.

And we're delighted

to count amongst us this year a new recruit!

-Welcome. -Hello.

Good to meet you, Agathe.

Well, some...

some very important works have been written here,

in this building.

Not forgetting the gardens, which are very beautiful.

Um...

We're here if you need us. Um...

We hope you'll be inspired

and we look forward to reading your work.

Yeah.

Thank you, darling.

Wait. Wait, what was that?

What's the matter with him?

I don't know.

He refuses to see a doctor, but...

we're going to have to face facts soon.

Did you find your bathroom?

And I don't even want to look

at the cover, which I-- I ruined it.

You know, it's all about timing.

The book at the right time, and it means something to you...

If you don't, it's...

Please, go on. It's lovely.

I'm sorry, I--

I didn't want to disturb you.

I hadn't noticed anyone was here.

I love being disturbed.

People don't dare anymore. It's such a shame.

Your house is incredible.

-Have you always lived here? -I was born here.

My parents had the idea

of turning it into a writers' residence

when they retired.

Agathe, how come you speak such good English?

Um...

My father is...

was born in Bristol and spoke to us in English.

You remind me a little bit of him, actually.

Where the fuck am I?

Why isn't it working?

The house is that way.

I know. Thanks.

I love you the Italian way

Whoa,

I love you the Italian way

My heart pounds

I speak with my hands

And I see red When you talk to anyone

Hello, what are you doing here?

What the fuck!

What's your problem?

Stay away from me!

Hey.

I'm lying on my bed, thinking about you.

Thinking about when we kissed,

your tongue in my mouth,

your tongue in my--

Lunchtime!

"Your tongue in my..."

Fuck!

No!

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Good night, everyone.

-Night. -Good night.

I don't know when the last time

you actually looked at a book properly...

Where did you get the idea?

What idea?

Your novel.

A woman who falls for the man she sees in her sake cup.

In my local Chinese restaurant.

You probably think it's ridiculous.

No. It intrigues me.

Are you making headway?

Yes, a lot.

I'm writing non-stop. It's so inspiring here.

What is the point?

Your perception of literature

is confoundedly na�ve.

What do you think, Agathe?

Me?

Um...

I believe that some books become part of our lives.

They enter our most intimate selves and...

some of them move in forever.

They help us to live

because they reveal to us our true nature.

I once heard someone say that "Literature is like an ambulance

speeding through the night to save someone."

That isn't the job of literature!

Why not?

I don't believe that the main mission

of a writer should be political.

I believe that the main mission

of a writer should be to tell a good story.

Forgive me, Agathe.

Yours is a touching notion.

But in the 18th century,

the struggle of philosophers

paved the way for the French Revolution of 1789.

In the 19th century,

the novel tried to be a mirror to society,

a way to denounce social injustices.

-Yeah. -And we all know

how hard Dickens raged against poverty...

-I know. -...and Virginia Woolf

-defended feminism. -Yeah, that's all very true.

But what I'm saying is that

what I personally ask of, whether they are writers,

or painters or musicians,

is that poetic spark that doesn't exist in real life.

What I want literature to do

is to remind me that I'm only human,

and help me to understand my fears, and my sadness,

and my struggles in life--

That's ridiculous, Oliver.

You'll have to agree with me, won't you?

In the history of literature,

the interplay between the figurative and the literal

has given rise to many definitions

and semantic inventions that are quite frankly--

Jesus, Dad! What are you doing?

God, I'm so sorry!

You can't water the guests.

Excuse me.

Unbelievable.

Mona isn't home.

Leave a message.

Hi, it's me.

I hope you're both well.

Call me back when you can.

Tom, a llama spat right in my face.

You'd have loved it.

I miss you. I'll be home in eight sleeps.

Love you.

Your scrambled eggs,

scotch pancakes, crumpets, baked beans, scones.

She's brought some lovely fresh toast.

Would you like some of that?

-Thank you. -There we are.

I think that will do the trick, won't it?

Right. And...

Yes, there's some homemade jam.

Excellent.

Could you please ask your husband

to stop his naked poetry recital

in the garden first thing in the morning?

It's very off-putting.

How are we supposed to write?

Sun.

Which day by day caresses the flowers.

The little flowers that poetically...

And.

-Sunshine... -Dad!

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

And, which on the other hand...

-Hello. -Hi.

Damn.

Do you have kids?

It's for my nephew Tom.

I've lived with him since he was born.

My sister fell pregnant just after our parents died.

So we decided to all live together.

-How old is he? -Six.

I found this old illustrated edition

of The Wonderful Adventures of Nils.

-Does he know it? -I don't think so.

It's a good idea.

Wouldn't you like to have your own children...

with your partner?

Sorry.

It was none of my business.

I haven't slept with a guy in two years.

I fantasize about my sake cup and I snog my best friend.

The university suspended me for wrecking the staff room.

My partner slept with most of the literature department.

Men, women, everyone.

I'm very, very good at screwing up.

The Palme d'Or of losers.

The Turner Prize for drifting.

I moved back home, but Dad walks around half-naked,

forgets my name...

And I can't sleep without Tramadol.

Yes, you are very lovely.

-Very lovely. -Hello.

Hi, Agathe.

Have I had breakfast?

-I can't remember. -Yes, you had it this morning.

But you're...

-You're very beautiful. -Thank you.

I'm going to write a poem for you.

Let me take you back to your room first.

All right.

We'll find your trousers.

Um...

I'll take it from here.

All right.

Thank you.

Good night, Agathe.

Good night.

You have no new messages.

F�lix hasn't tried to reach you

and you still haven't written a single line.

You're wasting your time at this residency

and you're wasting ours.

Hi.

I baked them for ages.

I know you like them crunchy on top.

That's kind of you.

I'll have a taste.

Are you making progress?

Good.

So good.

How's your love story going?

I can't wait to hear your reading.

Well, I won't disturb you any longer.

I have to go and look after Todd.

Don't you ever get tired of doing everything?

Wordsworth spoke of...

"Little, nameless, unremembered acts

of kindness and of love"

as being the best part of life.

That's beautiful.

I love to see this house full of life.

All the writers who come here...

It's like a family, you know.

And you're part of it now.

Our Oliver has come home too!

He seems better.

I find him more...

I don't know.

-See you later. -See you later.

"Life is a great sunrise."

"I do not see why death should not be an even greater one."

"Lies, energy, passion."

"So many things that life admires."

"Still everything can be undone if humanity is not watching."

That's how I became an expert in I Ching.

And I had a lover in Shanghai.

What are you plotting? Can I play too?

Go on, then.

What do I have to do?

Think of a question and write it down here.

Okay.

"Is F�lix in love with me?"

"Have we been afraid of our feelings

these last few years?"

No, that's two questions.

You have to choose one.

Okay.

Toss the coins three times.

What?

"Obstruction."

There's a block.

A separation of yin and yang.

You have to find an alternative.

"A fallback situation must be considered."

"Many disappointments will arise over time

in your love situation."

I'm sorry.

Can we do it again?

No, we can't.

-Come on. -No.

I hate these things anyway. I'm going for a smoke.

Hello?

Agathe?

Are you in a busy place?

Yes. I can't hear. Can you hear me?

Yes, I can.

Did you get my messages?

Yes. Sorry I didn't call back.

I've been busy at the bookshop.

F�lix?

You're not ghosting me or breadcrumbing me, are you?

Just don't ruin this, okay?

I can barely hear you.

-What did you say? -Never mind. Take care. Bye.

I can't hear a thing.

Hi.

You should come with us.

I'll buy you a drink at the pub.

We don't have to talk if you don't want to.

We can just get drunk.

I don't drink alcohol.

Of course you don't.

Just had IVF.

It's my fifth attempt.

And the hormones are killing me.

Can I have one of your cigarettes, please?

Hey. There you are.

Shall we go to the pub?

Yeah.

I kinda want to dress up first.

I've got to put makeup on my eyes.

My mascara's run everywhere.

You look fine.

Keep the love light glowing

In your eyes so true

Let me call you sweetheart

I'm in love with you

Thank you. Thank you, ladies.

Even though the rain is falling

And the sun ain't in the sky

It's all right

-Guinness? -Yes.

-Two Guinness. Thanks. -Yeah.

Well done.

Hang on in there, baby

We'll make it through the night

Just as long as we stay together

It's all gonna be all right

It's all right

Sometimes you make me happy

Sometimes you make me sad

It's all right

But I won't change you

I love you as you are

You're my inspiration...

Are you leaving already?

That depends. Do you play darts?

No.

You held me tight

You felt desire

Then why tonight

You quenched the fire

Dreams that seemed to promise You'd be mine

Have disappeared

Before their time

I'd rather you were conscious.

Can't you just eat me out?

What?

Hey.

It's me.

You look like shit.

Agathe.

What a welcome! Nice.

I was on the ferry earlier. I was afraid you'd realize.

I've come to distract you and take you to the ball.

Why didn't you reply to my message?

That was some message!

I loved it. Thanks a lot.

I just needed time to process.

I've thought of nothing but you since we kissed...

This new turn of events kind of freaks me out.

Yes?

Well, hello.

Um...

Your breakfast, Ms. Robinson.

Should I leave it on the table?

No, no, no. Nonsense, my boy.

Leave this to me. Thank you very much.

What is your name again, sir?

-Oliver. -Oliver. Nice name.

Thank you, Oliver. Have a nice day.

Breakfast for two! How splendid is that?

We've wasted 10 years. Let's not waste more.

Kiss me! I missed you.

Are you okay?

No.

Can I get you anything?

No! Stay where you are.

Here, put this on.

All right.

So what did you do?

Sleep with both of them?

No, neither.

Oliver tucked me in

and F�lix woke me up.

It was really weird but...

not at all unpleasant.

I'm relieved he's here.

Relieved? Yes.

That doesn't sound very exciting.

Yes. Thank you.

Ladies.

-You look beautiful. -Thanks.

You all right, my darling?

Beth, I feel dizzy. Go and dance with Felix.

Of course. I'd be delighted.

Hello.

I'll be right back.

Sir.

Sir, just going to grab a glass.

Sorry.

Please-- Sorry.

Is he nuts?

Agathe.

Thank you very much. Thank you.

Agathe. Agathe.

Hey.

Can I... You're a very good dancer, sir.

Very good.

-Shall we? -Yes.

Thank you.

Agathe.

No, turn!

Don't do that!

My nipples are sensitive. Are you nuts?

I'll have red marks too.

-Don't do it again. -Okay, fine.

-I mean it. -I got it!

Do you realize this house is 300 years old?

Have you seen how thick the walls are?

Yeah...

I have, yeah.

It's a nice temperature.

Very nice.

Should I open the window wider?

No, it's fine as it is.

There's a lovely breeze.

F�lix.

Maybe there's a reason nothing has ever happened between us.

Was it that bad?

No. That isn't the issue.

But when we're side by side like this,

I just want to eat kebabs and watch TV together.

Well, we know each other inside out.

So it'll take us a bit of time...

to adjust to this new situation.

-Are you serious? -Yes. It's perfectly normal.

With you, I have found my double flame at last.

Fuck no, F�lix!

You quote Octavio Paz to every girl you sleep with.

Don't say that crap to me!

Us being together is self-evident,

but we refused to see that.

So it's normal to feel afraid.

What's there to be afraid of?

Well...

Aren't we just afraid of ending up alone?

No.

I've always wanted to sleep with you.

You want to sleep with everyone!

I adore you.

But I don't feel...

that little inexplicable spark.

Okay.

So that's it? You won't even give us a chance.

Sorry.

It isn't that.

Okay.

-Where are you going? -For a walk.

-I'll come with you. -No. I'm going alone.

-Are you mad at me? -No.

-Are you sure? -Yes.

Okay.

-Should I stay for the reading? -Definitely not.

It's more stressful with loved ones present.

-We'll see each other soon. -Yep.

"Until death, it is all life."

What a fucking surprise!

Was it you who spat at me?

Are you leaving already?

Don't tell me it's because of your reading.

Beth...

I'm sorry.

I lied to you.

I haven't written anything, not a single word.

I'm not a writer. I need to accept that and move on.

Darling.

You should have told us you had hit a dry spell.

So many residents have before you.

We loved the first chapters of your novel.

Just ask Oliver.

He said that your first chapters were the most promising

he had read in years.

Thank you again for your kindness.

I'll never forget you.

I'm so sorry.

The bus doesn't run on Sundays.

My ex killed himself

after I cheated and left him.

I know I didn't pull the trigger but I pushed him to it.

I took everything from him.

I don't know what else to say. I'm a horrible human being.

And I don't know how I can move on or live anymore.

Have you ever had the feeling

you were made for something or someone?

That it was just a matter of luck

or timing?

Are you talking about writing or your boyfriend?

He isn't my boyfriend.

And I'm sorry about what happened.

I was talking about writing.

I always found excuses.

I thought conditions needed to be perfect to write.

And that I had to experience

interesting things to write but...

that's all bullshit.

At least I know that now.

Writing is like ivy...

like weeds and plants. It needs ruins to exist.

Look for your ruins.

Tramadol and Lexomil are on a boat. Who falls in?

What?

Nothing, forget it.

Bye.

Are you at the Bergeronette?

Yes.

You really shouldn't leave the keys under the flowerpots.

It's the first place burglars look.

You might as well leave the door open.

Agathe?

-What? -You're such a pain.

Okay.

Are you okay?

Well, I feel great joy

and immense sadness too.

I know, sweetie.

It'll pass, you'll see.

Remember what Dad used to say?

"Literature is the only remedy

for the disorder of thoughts and feelings."

I never did get his theories.

Dad kind of crushed you with his literature crap.

Don't you think it's time you told him to piss off?

He's dead, Mona.

All the more reason.

Dear Oliver,

Thank you for your gardening tips.

I found my ruins.

-Hi! -Everyone okay?

Okay.

Penetration is extremely painful...

Is this The Lion King?

Excuse me, sorry. Thanks.

There's a letter for you. It's on the fridge.

The hairs on the tip of the male's penis

are as hard as spines

but necessary to trigger ovulation in the female.

-Well? -Who's it from?

An English publisher. He loved my novel.

That's fantastic!

Cheer up! Don't kill yourself out of joy.

Smile!

Congrats, old cow!

"Agathe,

in vain have I struggled."

"It will not do."

"My feelings will not be repressed."

"You must allow me to tell you

how ardently I admire and love you."

There's a Jane Austen quote on the mirror.

Okay.

With my name on it!

Great.

Who made such a lame joke?

Don't look at me! How would I know?

You're weird.

Thank you.

And the final poem this evening

is Path by Jack Hirschman.

"Path."

"Go to your broken heart."

"If you think you don't have one, get one."

"To get one, be sincere."

"Learn sincerity of intent

by letting life enter because you're helpless, really,

to do otherwise."

"Even as you try escaping,

let it take you and tear you open

like a letter sent,

like a sentence inside you've waited for

all your life,

though you've committed nothing."

"Let it send you up."

"Let it break you, heart."

"Broken-heartedness

is the beginning of all real reception."

"The ear of humility

hears beyond the gates."

"See the gates opening."

"Feel your hands going akimbo on your hips,

your mouth opening like a womb giving birth to your voice

for the first time."

"Go singing, whirling into the glory of being

ecstatically...

simple."

"Write the poem."

Bravo!

Pardon.

You better get up for your mama

You better grab The best of your life

I know you're ready

To get older

Anyhow

Well, all you have to do Is wander

Over fields of dark time

Where do you find yourself

Feeling lonesome

And do you reckon

Your body and your mind?

Day on Earth

By the streets at night

Yeah

I saw you passing

There in the street lights

And do you have

A home for the morning?

And are you holding

Holding on so tight?

You say that's what You have been given

A whole lot of nothing For your time

Or have you sunken

Down in your bones

And do you toss and turn

And turn at night?

And are you holding

Holding on so tight?

And do you toss and turn

And turn at night?

And are you holding

Holding on so tight?