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SIX MORAL TALES

MY NIGHT AT MAUD’S

Have mercy on us all.

With the Virgin Mary,
blessed mother of God,

the apostles and all the saints,

may we share eternal life
and glorify you

through your beloved son
Jesus Christ.

Through Him, with Him, and in Him,

in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

all glory and honor is yours,
Almighty Father, forever and ever.

Let us pray.

Mindful of our savior’s bidding,
we take heart and say:

Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name...

Deliver us, we pray thee, Lord,
from every evil,

past, present and to come,

and through the intercession

of the blessed
and glorious ever-virgin Mary,

of thy blessed apostles Peter and Paul,
of Andrew and all the saints,

grant peace in our day,

so that, with thy merciful help,

we may be ever free from sin

and safe from all disquietude.

Through Jesus Christ,
thy Son, our Lord,

who lives and reigns with thee
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

God for ever and ever.

The peace of the Lord
be always with you.

And with your spirit.

Lamb of God...

who takes away the sins of the world,
have mercy on us.

Behold the Lamb of God,
who takes away the sins of the world.

Lord, I am not worthy
to receive thee under my roof,

but only say the word
and my soul will be healed.

It’s 6:30!

We came to a tight curve.

We were doing over 100,
despite the speed limit.

The car zigzagged back and forth,
but we made it somehow.

See what’s in store?

Where do you live?

In the Chanturgue hills.

I was lucky enough to find a place
to build a little house there.

- Among the vineyards?
- That’s right.

And where do you live?

We’re almost neighbors.
I live just south of you.

No, northwest.

It’s just a small apartment,
but it’s quiet.

It’s impossible to live
here in Clermont these days.

What about you?
- 1 live in Ceyrat.

Isn’t that a bit far?

- Not really.
- Nice place, Ceyrat.

The roads get real icy up there.

Not since I’ve been there.

It’s actually a friend’s place.
He’s working abroad.

That Monday, December 21st,

I suddenly knew without a doubt

that Françoise would be my wife.

“They began as though they did believe,
with holy water and masses, etc.

You too may follow that way
to unthinking belief.

- That’s what I fear.
- Why? What have you got to lose?

It’s the way to diminish the passions,
which are your stumbling blocks.”

- You staying here for Christmas?
- Definitely.

But I’ll be visiting family
for New Year’s.

Come skiing.
They’re forecasting snow.

- It never snows at Christmas.
- My friends have already been skiing.

I was joking.
I spent some time in Canada -

Ah, right. Protestant countries
make a big thing out of Christmas.

Families stay indoors
and don’t even know if it’s snowing.

- Are you Protestant?
- Yes. And you?

Catholic. My family was Catholic,
and I kept it up.

- Vidal! You’re here in Clermont?
- You too?

- Let’s get together sometime.
- How about now?

Good-bye.
Have a nice vacation.

- Are you teaching at the university?
- Yes, philosophy.

What about you?
- May I?

I’ve been with Michelin since October.
I’m just back from South America.

Strange we haven’t
bumped into each other.

I go straight home
to Ceyrat at night.

I eat out occasionally,
but I prefer to cook at home.

Social life abroad was hectic.
I need a little solitude.

I can leave.

No, I meant I’m not trying
to meet new people.

- People here are like anywhere else.
- I’m delighted I ran into you.

- You’re not married?
- No. You?

No. I mean... no.

I’m in no hurry.

But a bachelor’s life in the provinces
isn’t terribly exciting.

What are you doing tonight?
- Nothing. How about dinner?

I’m going
to Leonide Kogan’s recital.

Come along.
I have a spare ticket.

I don’t feel like listening
to music tonight.

All Clermont will be there.
Lots of pretty girls.

Your students?

There are very pretty girls here,
but you don’t see them around much.

I’m sure you’ll knock ’em dead.

I’ve never knocked anyone dead.

Very well.
I’ll go, but just to prove you wrong.

- Mineral water.
- Orange juice.

You come here a lot?

Almost never. You?

Never been in here before.

And yet our paths crossed here.
How strange.

On the contrary.
Our ordinary paths never cross.

Therefore, the point of intersection
must be outside those ordinary paths.

I’ve been dabbling
in mathematics in my spare time.

It’d be fun to calculate our chances
of meeting in a two-month period.

Is that possible?

It’s a matter of data
and how you handle it.

Provided the data exists.

Obviously, if I don’t know
where a person lives or works,

I can’t work out the odds
of running into them.

Are you interested in math?

It’s increasingly important
for a philosopher.

In linguistics, for example.
But even basic things.

Pascal’s arithmetical triangle
is connected to his wager.

That’s what makes Pascal
so amazingly modern.

Mathematician
and philosopher are one.

- Good old Pascal.
- You surprised?

Funny you mention him.
I’ve been reading him again.

And?

I’m very disappointed.

Go on.
I’m really interested.

Oh, I don’t know.

I feel I know him almost by heart,
yet he tells me nothing.

It all seems so empty.

I’m a Catholic,
or at least I try to be,

but he doesn’t fit in
with my notion of Catholicism.

It’s precisely because I’m a Christian
that his austerity offends me.

If that’s what Christianity is about,
then I’m an atheist.

Are you still a Marxist?

Absolutely. For a Communist,
Pascal’s wager is very relevant today.

Personally, I very much doubt
that history has any meaning.

Yet I wager that it has,
so I’m in a Pascalian situation.

Hypothesis A:
Society and politics are meaningless.

Hypothesis B:
History has meaning.

I’m not at all sure
B is more likely to be true than A.

More likely the reverse.

Let’s even suppose B has
a 10 percent chance of being true,

and A has 80 percent.

Nevertheless...

I have no choice but to opt for B,

because only the hypothesis
that history has meaning...

allows me to go on living.

Suppose I bet on A, and B was true,
despite the lesser odds.

I’d have thrown away my life.

So I must choose B
to justify my life and actions.

There’s an 80 percent chance I’m wrong,
but that doesn’t matter.

Mathematical hope.
Potential gain divided by probability.

With your hypothesis B,

though the probability is slight,
the possible gain is infinite.

In your case, a meaning to life.
In Pascal’s, eternal salvation.

It was Gorky, Lenin,
or maybe Mayakovsky

who said
about the Russian revolution

that the situation
forced them to choose

the one chance in a thousand.

Because hope
became infinitely greater

than if you didn’t take it.

Let’s get together tomorrow.

It’s Christmas Eve. I’m going
to midnight mass. Want to come?

Why not?

I was to spend it with a friend,

but she has some family problems.

- It was just an idea.
- No, I’d really like to.

I can’t see her before midnight anyway.
She has to go get her daughter.

She’s divorced.

We could both call
on her after mass.

The happiness
I wish for you this Christmas,

the happiness I seek for you
with this mass

that we celebrate together,

is a new and profound joy.

It’s not the joy of times past,
of childhood memories,

of Christian customs
piously maintained,

but a living joy,

a joy for today.

This birth we celebrate

is not only the birth of Jesus.

It’s our birth.

Something should be born
in each of us tonight.

Every man and every woman
is asked tonight to believe

in a fresh, pervasive joy...

for at this night’s core
lies the guarantee of our hope.

We can’t visit her tonight.

Her ex was in town.
They had financial matters to settle.

She’s exhausted
and went to bed.

We’ll go tomorrow.
- No, I don’t know her.

You’ll get to know each other.

She’s a remarkable woman.
There aren’t many like her.

You’ll be delighted
to meet each other.

Don’t get ahead of yourself.

She’s lived a secluded life
since her divorce.

She feels out of place
in her own crowd.

She’s a pediatrician.
Her ex is a doctor too.

He was a professor here.
Now he’s in Montpellier.

She’s...

very beautiful.

Marry her.

No.
I mean, we discussed it.

But we don’t get along well
on a day-to-day basis.

But we’re still the best of friends.

I asked you along because otherwise
I know she and I will make love.

Then I won’t go.

No, do.

We’d only make love to pass the time,
and that’s no solution.

Besides, I’m a puritan.
You know that.

More than me?

Much more.

Good evening, Teresa.

Such affection!
You’re in rare form.

- We haven’t seen other in ages.
- A whole week.

Have a seat.

So you haven’t seen
each other in 15 years?

About 14, really.

- And you recognized each other?
- At once. He hasn’t changed.

You neither.

Two cases
of protracted adolescence.

Is that a criticism
or a compliment?

Neither.
A simple statement of fact.

But we’ve led very different lives.

He’s had lots of adventures.

Tell me more.

No, it’s just that I spent
a long time abroad.

In the wilds?

No, in very bourgeois cities.
Vancouver and Valparaiso.

Valparaiso is bourgeois?

At least, the people I mixed with
were as bourgeois

as people in Lyons or Marseilles.

Or here.

One’s always condemned
to the provinces.

I shouldn’t say “condemned.”
I actually prefer them.

But you want to leave Clermont.

Not the place - the people.
I’m tired of the same old faces.

Even mine?

I’ve decided to leave.
If you love me, follow me.

- What if I did?
- I’d be very upset.

Is this any way
for a professor to behave?

Fine. Let’s be serious.

How was Christmas?
- Excellent.

My daughter was in seventh heaven
with all her presents.

What did you do?
- 1 went to midnight mass.

- 1 knew it. You’ll end up a priest.
- He dragged me there.

- Not really.
- No, I went willingly.

Are you a Catholic?

I mean, a practicing Catholic?

- He doesn’t look it, does he?
- Yes, he does.

- 1 can picture you as a boy scout.
- 1 was never that.

Yet I was a choir boy.

You’ll end up a priest, I tell you.

I must say,
you both reek of holy water.

How about a drink?
Nothing? Really?

What about you?
- A little scotch.

I was never baptized.

She comes from a great family
of freethinkers.

But Maud, your sort of irreligion
is another form of religion.

I know that,
but I have the right to prefer it.

Had my family been Catholic,
I might have lapsed, like you,

whereas I’m faithful.
- It’s easy to be faithful to nothing.

It’s not nothing.
It’s another way of looking at problems.

It has its principles,
sometimes very strict ones.

But it’s free of preconceived notions -
- We know the spiel.

Don’t be rude.

Girls like you turn me papist.
I don’t like people without problems.

Because you’re abnormal.
You should get psychoanalyzed.

Besides, I do have problems.
Very serious ones.

I understand being an atheist.
I’m one myself.

But Christianity’s inherent
contradictions are fascinating.

Dialectic does nothing for me.

You’ve read Pascal, at least.

“Man is a thinking reed.”

“The two infinities.”

- “Cleopatra’s nose.”
- He’s certainly not my favorite.

- Then I’m the odd man out here.
- Why? Haven’t you read Pascal?

I’ve read him.

He hates Pascal...

because Pascal lashes out
at phony Christians like him.

Really?

- He’s the quintessential Jesuit.
- Let him defend himself.

I don’t like Pascal

because he has a very particular
conception of Christianity,

condemned by the church,
by the way.

His Pensées wasn’t condemned.

But Jansenism was.
And he hasn’t been canonized.

Good point.

Let someone else get a word in!

You’re such a pain!

You were saying?

Nothing.

No, I think there’s another way
to look at Christianity.

As a scientist I respect Pascal,

but his condemnation
of science shocks me.

- He didn’t condemn it.
- At the end of his life he did.

It wasn’t exactly a condemnation.

I mean, he didn’t say -

I’m not expressing myself well.

For instance...

our talking distracts us
from what we’re eating.

Like this excellent Chanturgue wine.
My first taste of it.

Drunk only by the best
Clermont families.

If you say so.

- Old Catholic and Freemason families.
- Lay off it!

Pascal probably drank Chanturgue,
since he was born here.

I wouldn’t criticize him
if he’d abstained.

I’m in favor of abstinence.

You could say
I’m against giving up Lent.

It’s just that Pascal paid
no attention to what he drank.

Even when he was ill and had
to follow a diet of the finest food,

he never remembered
what he’d eaten.

His sister Gilberte wrote how
he never said, “This is good.”

Well, I say, “This is good!”

As a Christian, I say
not acknowledging what’s good is evil.

- Your argument’s a bit thin.
- Not at all. It’s very important.

Another thing about Pascal
that shocks me deeply:

He said marriage was
the lowest state in Christianity.

I find it pretty low too,

but not for the same reasons.

But Pascal’s right.

You probably want to get married.
I do too.

But as a sacrament,
marriage ranks below priesthood.

I thought precisely of that
at mass the other day.

There was a girl in front of me -

I should go to mass to find girls.

They can’t be any worse
than at Communist Party meetings.

Your words reveal your true nature
as a petit bourgeois.

That’s right.

What about the pretty girl?

I didn’t say she was pretty.

But she was.

Quite pretty.

Actually, it was a young woman,
with her husband -

- Or lover.
- Stop it.

- They wore wedding rings.
- You took a good look.

Well, you see,

it’s hard to find the proper words.

I’ll stop now. You’re laughing at me.
- Not at all.

I think it’s great
to be obsessed with marriage.

It’s entirely a function
of your age - our age.

That Christian couple was sublime.

What you mean is:
Religion enhances a woman.

And I see nothing wrong in that.

Religion enhances love,
but love enhances religion as well.

What are you doing out of bed?

All right, come over here.

This is Marie.

What do you want?
- Can I see the lights on the tree?

Now?

Give me a kiss.

See?

Are they pretty?

Is that enough?

Happy now?

Good. Now back to bed.

Come on, sweetie.

Good night, everyone.

There must be
some Pascal around here.

Even in a Freemason’s home.

What did I tell you?

Isn’t there a specific reference
to mathematics

in the part about the wager?

“If there are not infinite chances
of losing compared to winning,

do not hesitate.
Stake it all.

You’re obliged to play,

so renounce reason
if you value your life.”

Exactly.
That’s mathematical hope.

It’s always infinite with Pascal.

“Unless the probability of salvation is nil,
since infinity times zero equals zero.”

So the argument is meaningless
for a confirmed nonbeliever.

But with the slightest grain of belief,
it becomes infinite again.

Then you must back the odds.

Yes, if I believe there’s any probability
and that the gain is infinite.

And do you believe that?

Yet you stake nothing.
You give up nothing.

- Sure, I give up some things.
- Not the Chanturgue wine.

That’s irrelevant to the question.
Why should I give it up?

What I don’t like about Pascal’s wager
is the calculated exchange,

like buying a lottery ticket.

Let’s call it choosing. You have to choose
between the finite and the infinite.

When I choose the Chanturgue,
I’m not rejecting God.

That’s not the choice.

What about girls?

Girls, maybe.

But not women in general.
Not the way I see it.

You still chasing after girls?

You used to.

When I met him,
he was quite the ladies’ man.

You met me when I was ten.

I meant when we parted ways,
after graduation.

- You’re full of it!
- Am I?

What about Marie-Helene?

What a memory!

I have no idea
what became of her.

She became a nun.

- Who’s this Marie-Hélène?
- A friend of mine.

- His mistress, to be precise.
- Really?

I won’t deny I’ve had “mistresses,”
to use his term.

So there’ve been several?

I’m not here to tell my life story.
He’s not my confessor.

I’m 34, and I’ve known
quite a few girls.

I don’t claim to be
a model for anyone.

Besides, that proves nothing.

I’m not out to prove anything.

Yes, you are.
I shock you, I know.

I’ve had affairs with girls I loved
and thought of marrying,

but I’ve never just
slept with a girl.

It’s not a moral stance.
I just don’t see the point of it.

Yes, but let’s suppose

that on your travels
you met a lovely girl

whom you knew
you’d never see again.

There are circumstances
in which it’s difficult to resist.

I won’t say God, but fate has kept me
from such circumstances.

I’ve never been lucky
with amorous flings.

Remarkably unlucky.

I’m generally unlucky,
but I’ve had my share of one-night stands.

Once in Italy
with a Swedish girl,

once in Poland
with an English girl.

Those two nights are perhaps
the most beautiful memories of my life.

I’m all for affairs on journeys
or at conferences.

At least they’re free
of bourgeois clinging.

In principle I’m against them.

But since no such thing
has ever happened to me -

But it could.

Be serious now.

If it did happen,
I take it you’d play along.

I was talking about the past.

You’re really pushing me
to dredge up the past.

I chased some girls,
but the past is the past.

But if tomorrow, or tonight,
a woman as lovely as Maud...

an amorous woman,
suggested or made it clear -

- You’re not funny.
- Let me finish.

He’s completely drunk.

Must be the Chanturgue.

Let’s hear your answer anyway.

In the past, yes. Now, no.

Why?

I told you: I’m a convert.

Conversion really does exist.
Read Pascal.

I may be tactless,
but I trust my intuition.

This conversion of his strikes me
as highly dubious.

I sensed something
odd about him.

Sometimes he seems miles away.

As if he were thinking
of someone.

Not something.

Someone.

I wouldn’t be surprised
if he were in love.

That’s news to me.

- Blonde or brunette?
- 1 believe he prefers blondes.

Tell us.
It’s nothing to be ashamed of.

I’m not in love.

Tell us.

In return
I’ll tell you my life story.

- That could take a while.
- Over several sessions.

There is no one.
I love no one. Period.

- Is she in Clermont?
- No.

Which implies
she exists somewhere -

I said no
because she doesn’t exist!

Even if she did,
I have every right not to tell you.

We’re not being very nice.

No, I’m enjoying this
more than you imagine.

Stop drinking.
I don’t want to drive you home.

You wouldn’t have to anyway.
He’d do it.

My friends, here’s what I propose:

As I’ve been quite exhausted,

the doctor has ordered
plenty of rest in bed.

- The doctor being you?
- Who else?

But I’m not throwing you out.
Please stay. That’s an order.

I’m not sleepy, and I enjoy
company around my bed.

- What about in it?
- Not you, that’s for sure.

It’ll be like a salon
from the olden days.

That’s why I sleep in here.
I hate bedrooms.

I’m going. I’m tired.

- You can’t do that to me.
- She wants to sleep.

Are you kidding?
It’s all part of her little game.

I think she’s up to something.

- Such as?
- You’ll find out.

Stay.

You’re drunk.
I don’t want to be rude. I’m leaving.

I admit they dressed
more elegantly for salons.

You just wanted
to show off your legs.

Precisely.
My only means of seduction.

“Only means”? Come now.
Let’s say your principal means.

I’m a terrible exhibitionist.
It just comes over me.

Look all you like. It’s all real.

Careful you don’t break your neck.

Is that a sailor’s shirt?
- Yes, the real thing.

Practical and warm.

But I take it off before I go to sleep.
I always sleep naked.

I don’t see how people can wear things
that get all twisted around.

You need to sleep more soundly.
Take a sedative.

They’re very bad for you.

I only prescribe them
as a last resort.

Let me stretch out my legs.

I love feeling your toes
through the bedspread.

It should make you feel better too.

Sit down.

- Now, what were we talking about?
- Girls.

His girls.
- That’s right.

He was going to tell us his adventures.
- No, you were.

You really shock me.

Me? He’s the one
who told all these stories.

- Say it’s all lies.
- No, it’s not -

I thought a true Christian
remained chaste until marriage.

I don’t claim
to be a good example.

Anyway, between theory
and practice -

I know boys
who’ve never slept with a girl.

- Bald men or hunchbacks.
- Not necessarily.

I don’t set myself up as an example,
and it was in the past -

Don’t get angry.

The fact is, I like you a lot.

No, really.
I like your frankness.

Such as it is.

- Do I really shock you?
- Very much.

It bothers me
to hear you say that.

My Christianity and my love affairs
are different, even conflicting, matters.

Yet they coexist
in the same person.

It’s a rather stormy coexistence.

This may come as another shock,

but pursuing girls
does not estrange one from God

any more than pursuing
mathematics, for example.

Oh, but it does!

Coming back to Pascal,
not only did he condemn good food,

but at the end of his life,
he even condemned mathematics.

I’m actually more - No.

You’re more Pascalian than me.

Perhaps.

Mathematics
turns you away from God.

It’s a useless, intellectual diversion -
worse than other diversions.

Why worse?

Because it’s completely abstract,
and thus inhuman.

Whereas women...

I’d like to write
about Pascal and women.

He was very interested in women,

but in fact we don’t know if his
Discourse on Love is apocryphal...

Could you open the window?
It’s smoky in here.

...or whether he even “knew” women.

“Knew” in the Biblical sense,

though I find that
a stupid expression.

“To know someone
in the Biblical sense.”

It’s snowing.

It looks phony.

I don’t much care for snow.

It’s phony kids’ stuff.

I detest things
that remind one of childhood.

Because you have
a deeply twisted mind.

Back to bed.
You’ll catch cold.

Go to bed yourself, you brute.

It’s late. I’ll be going.

- Where do you live?
- Ceyrat, but I have my car.

- You’ll get killed.
- I’m not afraid of a little snow.

It’s most dangerous
when it’s falling.

A friend of mine died that way.

It left me traumatized.

You can sleep in the next room.

Please, or I’ll worry
and never get to sleep.

I think I left my window
open at home.

The snow must be pouring in.
I should go.

- I’ll go with you.
- No, you stay.

- I’ll give you a call.
- Did you forget about tomorrow?

- That’s right. What time?
. Noon.

- What about your daughter?
- She’ll be with her father.

Will you come with us?
- Where?

A trip with friends to the mountains.
Lunch at an inn.

It’ll be even nicer in the snow.

I really am used to driving in snow.
There’s absolutely no danger.

This type of snow
is very treacherous.

- I’ll go so you can get some sleep.
- Stay a bit.

Please.

You really want me to?

All right, go home. Good-bye!

I’m really sorry.

I was told -

Don’t be angry...

but I was told
people here are overly polite.

There’s some truth to that,

but at the moment
that describes you.

When I say something, I mean it.

If I want you to go, I’ll say so.

You did say so.

But I’ll stay just a moment.

- You really do shock me.
- So you’ve said.

No one’s ever disturbed me
as much as you have.

Religion has always left me cold.

I’m neither for nor against it.

But people like you keep me
from ever taking it seriously.

All you’re really worried about
is your respectability.

Staying in a woman’s room
after midnight - that’s just terrible.

The fact your staying
might comfort me

when I’m feeling a bit lonely,

the fact we might set aside convention
and make real contact,

even if we were
never to meet again -

none of that
would ever occur to you.

I find that stupid...

and not very Christian.

It has nothing to do with religion.

I just thought you might be tired.

Do you still think so?

No. You see I’m still here.

What bothers me about you
is that you dodge the issue.

You refuse to take responsibility.

You’re both a shamefaced Christian
and a shamefaced Don Juan.

That’s a bit much.
- That’s not true.

I was in love.
That’s very different.

I’ve loved two or three women in my life.
Okay, maybe four.

I lived with each of them
for several years.

Maybe I wasn’t madly in love.

Actually, maybe I was.

And they loved me back,
though I don’t mean to boast.

No false modesty.

I mean, I don’t think love
can be real unless it’s mutual.

That’s why I believe
in a certain predestination.

My affairs were fine,
and it’s fine that they fizzled out.

- Did you end them?
- No. And neither did they.

It was circumstances.

You should have risen above them.

These you couldn’t rise above.

I know, you can
always rise above things,

but it would have been pointless,
quite senseless.

No, it was impossible.

Sometimes it’s better
that things be impossible.

You understand?

Very well.

That’s all very human,
but not very Christian.

But as I said before,
Christian or not is not what matters.

Let’s set religion aside for now.

Women have taught me a lot,
morally speaking.

I know “women” sounds -
- A bit vulgar.

It would be idiotic
to generalize from individual cases,

but each girl I met posed
a new moral challenge

that I’d been unaware of
or never had to face concretely before.

I was forced to assume certain attitudes
that were good for me,

that shook me
out of my moral lethargy.

You could have concentrated
on the moral and ignored the physical.

But the moral aspect would
never even have arisen if -

Oh, sure,
you can always do anything.

But let’s face it: The physical
and the moral are inseparable.

Perhaps it was a snare
set by the devil.

Then I fell right in.
Yes, in a way I fell right in.

Otherwise I’d be a saint.

- Don’t you want to be a saint?
- Not at all.

Now I’ve heard everything!

I thought every Christian
was to aspire to sainthood.

What I mean is, I can’t be a saint.

What a defeatist attitude!
What about grace?

I ask grace to allow me to glimpse
the possibility of being one.

Rightly or wrongly...

since not everyone can be a saint,

I’m apparently
among those who cannot.

Given my nature,
my hopes, my potential...

even my mediocrity

and my halfheartedness -
which I know God spurns -

I can achieve, if not bliss...

at least a certain justness

in the scriptural sense of the term.

I’m a man of the times,

and religion acknowledges
the times.

I’m by no means a Jansenist.

- 1 never said you were.
- You or Vidal did.

- He talks rubbish.
- To get a rise out of me.

He was really smashed tonight.
I’ve never seen him like that before.

Would you pass me my cigarettes?

Do you know each other well?

We hadn’t seen each other
in 14 years,

but we were very close once,
even after high school.

You weren’t very nice tonight.

Not very nice?

Oh, I can be mean too.

Very mean.

The poor man will lie awake brooding
about the two of us together.

- He insisted on leaving.
- Pure bravado.

You can be a bit dim sometimes,
can’t you?

Didn’t he tell you
he was in love with me?

He said he admired you
and felt great friendship for you.

He’s very discreet.

He’s actually a very good man.

But he lacks humor-
in how he lives his life, I mean.

I know I make him suffer,
but I can’t help it.

He’s not my type at all.

I was stupid enough to sleep
with him once casually.

I’m very hard to please
when it comes to men.

It’s not just the physical aspect.
And he’s smart enough to know that.

I know why he brought you
here tonight.

To test me? No, I doubt it.

No, it’s more that

he wanted some reason
to hate and despise me.

He likes to look
on the black side.

Anyway, where were we?

You’re really not sleepy?

Not at all.

And you?

You’re really sure?

I’d tell you if I were.

It’s been ages
since I talked like this to anyone.

It feels good.

Still, it strikes me that you have...

a very tortuous mind.

Tortuous?

I thought a Christian
was judged by his deeds.

You don’t seem to attach
much importance to them.

Oh, but I do.

Enormous importance.

But for me what counts
is not one deed

but an entire life.

Every life is made of whole cloth.

By that I mean
I’ve never had to ask myself...

“Should I sleep
with this girl or not?”

I simply chose ahead of time
a certain way to live.

Could you please get me
a glass of water?

Although it’s disappearing now,
one thing I dislike about the church

is this bookkeeping aspect

of good deeds versus sins.

Purity of heart
is the important thing.

If you really love one girl,
you don’t want to sleep with another.

There’s no problem.

Why do you laugh?
- No reason.

So it’s true then.
- What?

You’re in love.

In love? With whom?

I don’t know.

The blonde.
The one and only.

Have you found her?
- No. I already told you.

Stop being so secretive.
Do you want to get married?

- Like everyone else.
- More. Admit it.

Why are you so anxious
to marry me off?

Maybe I’m a matchmaker at heart.
Some women are.

- And I flee them like the plague.
- So how will you meet your wife?

I don’t know.

A personal ad.

“Engineer, 34, Catholic,
medium height...”

“...nice-looking, has car,
seeks blonde, practicing Catholic.”

You’ve given me an idea.

Lots of people
get married that way.

No, I’m just kidding.
I’m in no hurry.

- You want to sow more wild oats.
- No, certainly not.

So if you found her today,

you’d marry her on the spot
and swear eternal fidelity.

Absolutely.

- You sure you’d be faithful?
- Of course.

- What if she wasn’t?
- If she loved me, she’d be faithful.

Love isn’t eternal.

My sort of love is.

If there’s one thing
I can’t understand, it’s infidelity.

Perhaps it’s just pride,
but I couldn’t go back on my word.

When I take a wife,
my love will stand the test of time.

If I stopped loving her,
I’d despise myself.

- There’s a lot of pride in that.
- 1 said perhaps it was.

Not “perhaps.” It is!

So you don’t allow for divorce?

So you damn me outright.

Not at all.
You’re not a Catholic.

I respect all religions,
even people who have none.

I’m speaking for myself, that’s all.

I’m sorry if I offended you.

You didn’t offend me.

Why did you get divorced?

I don’t know.

Actually I do.
We just didn’t get along.

It became clear very quickly:
a simple matter of temperament.

Maybe you could have
worked it out.

My ex is a good man
in every respect.

I’ll always have
the highest regard for him.

But he really got on my nerves.

In what way?
Was he like me?

No, you don’t get
on my nerves at all.

It would never have occurred
to me to marry you,

even in my wildest youth.

But you lived together.
You had a daughter together.

So? You think bickering parents
are good for a child?

Besides,
there was something else.

You sure you want
to hear my life story?

I had a lover...

and my husband had a mistress.

Curiously enough,
she was your type:

very upstanding, very Catholic.

Not hypocritical or calculating.

Very sincere.

Even so, I hated her like poison.

I think she was crazy about him.
He has that effect on women.

I was crazy about him too.

I tried everything to break it up.
It was my one good deed.

I don’t think she would
have married him.

That’s why I was amused

when you spoke
of insurmountable circumstances.

I suspect she felt the same way.

And your lover?

Ah, well.

It just proves how unlucky I am.

When I have a chance
at something good, it falls apart.

I was sure I’d found
the man of my life.

Someone attracted to me...

whom I found attractive
in every way.

Another doctor, brilliant,

full of passion for life.

I’ve never known anyone...

whose sheer presence
was such a joy.

He died just like that,
in a car accident.

He skidded on the ice.

That’s fate for you.

Is it still snowing?

That’s all in the past.

What’s done is done.

That was a year ago.

You’ve turned pensive.

I’m sorry if I spoke lightly earlier.

I’m always taking
a wretchedly selfish point of view.

Your point of view interests me.

Otherwise I’d have said
good night long ago.

It’s late.
Where’s this room you mentioned?

Nowhere.

- There’s no other room?
- Sure there is.

My office, my waiting room,
my daughter’s room, the maid’s room.

The maid is Spanish
and very prim.

Did Vidal know this?

Of course.
That’s why he left in a huff.

Don’t be childish.
Lie beside me.

On the spread.
Or under it...

if I’m not too repulsive.

- I’ll take the armchair.
- You’ll end up twisted in knots.

Are you afraid?

Of yourself? Or me?

I swear I won’t brush against you.

Besides, I thought
you had self-control.

May I take this blanket?

Would you please
turn out the lights?

Idiot.

You’ll be cold.

I’ll see.

No! I like people
who know what they want.

Leaving with no good-bye?

Just getting my coat.

Don’t see me out.
You’ll catch cold.

Will you come along this afternoon?

Please do, or Vidal will chatter on.
Be a sport.

You really want me to?

Besides, it won’t just be us.
A girl you might like will be there.

A blonde.

So you’ll come then?
At noon?

I’ll try.

Good-bye.

Coffee, please.

- Did I wake you up?
- How are you?

Wanna come skiing?

I’m leaving in half an hour.

No, I’m meeting -

I know I should have some line,
but they always sound so stupid.

How can I get a chance
to know you?

You’d know better than me.

No, otherwise I wouldn’t have
followed you against all my principles.

One shouldn’t go
against one’s principles.

Yet I do sometimes. Do you?

- Yes, but I’m sorry afterwards.
- I’m not.

And if I abandon my principles,
it’s for something really worthwhile.

Anyway, I have no principles.
I mean, about -

How to get to know people?

It’s silly to miss out on meeting
someone just because of principles.

Assuming the person in question
is worth meeting.

We’ll find out.

You’re not the type
to leave things up to chance.

Actually, my entire life
is nothing but chance.

- 1 don’t get that impression.
- It’s true.

That thing looks dangerous
in this weather.

I’m used to it, and I only use it in town.
I take the bus home.

- Where do you live?
- Saulzet, near Ceyrat.

When can I see you again?

- Next time we meet.
- Our paths never cross.

They certainly do!

How about tomorrow?
I didn’t see you last Sunday.

I stayed home to work.
That was an exception.

Good. And we’ll have lunch
together afterwards.

All right.

Maybe. We’ll see.

Good-bye.
Hurry now, or you’ll catch cold.

- We’re going!
- Meet you at the car!

Okay.

You look Ukrainian!

- 1 hope those two hurry up.
- You never know.

Good thing you came.

Otherwise I’d have been
a third wheel.

- Did you think I’d come?
- Why wouldn’t you have?

I almost didn’t...

but I keep my promises.

- Are you sorry you came?
- Not at all.

I’ve never had such a good time.

- Really?
- Can’t you tell?

- 1 feel so good with you.
- You’d feel better with the blonde.

Who? Vidal’s blonde?

Absolutely not.

The lesser of two evils.

Your lips are cold.

So are yours. I like it.

In keeping with your feelings.

True.
That was a strictly friendly kiss.

If only it were.

Don’t you believe in my friendship?

I don’t know you.

True, we haven’t even spent
a full 24 hours together,

yet I feel like
I’ve known you for ages.

Don’t you?

Maybe. We got down
to intimacies very quickly.

I can’t seem to stop talking
these last few days.

Like I need
to pour my heart out.

You need to get married.

To whom?

Your blonde.

- She doesn’t exist.
- Is that so?

What if I were to marry you?
What do you say?

- 1 don’t meet the requirements.
- What requirements?

Blonde, Catholic.

- Who said blonde?
- Vidal.

- He doesn’t know.
- Catholic, in any case.

- Yes.
- See?

- 1 might convert you.
- Fat chance. Especially you.

Is the answer yes?
Look how well we get along.

We’re perfectly at ease
with each other.

Why not?
You’re as good as Vidal.

But you wouldn’t marry him.

God forbid! Though I’ve done
stupider things in my life.

He seems resigned to the situation.

He’d better be.

I wonder what got
into him yesterday.

Actually, he pushed you
into my arms to protect himself.

But I’m not in your arms.

A mere detail.
You’ve cured him.

You did a good deed.
That way your conscience is clear.

It is anyway.

There they are.

How about a drink?

No, I have shopping to do.
It’s the maid’s day off.

Come shopping with me?
We can have dinner afterwards.

- 1 have to leave by 10:00.
- 9:30. I need my sleep.

I’ll call you.

Shall we get that drink?
Are you in a hurry?

It was nice of you to call.

Are you leaving tonight?

You still have some pajamas
and things here, you know.

Okay, I’ll keep them.
They could come in handy.

Know who that was?

My husband.

He’s really very nice.
He’s found me a practice in Toulouse.

A very attractive offer.

Did you know I’m leaving Clermont?

Yes, you mentioned that.
When?

Sooner than I expected.
In about a month.

Wasn’t that nice of him?
- Of your husband?

My ex-husband.

He’s a very good man.
Too bad we couldn’t get along.

He’s here on business
and to see our little girl.

Did he remarry?

- Why do you ask?
- No reason.

So you’re leaving me?

Know what I’m thinking?

These 24 hours
we’ve now spent together

are both a long time
and no time at all.

Not even a whole day.

You were unfaithful this morning.

I hate leaving people.
I’m faithful, even to you.

Ideally one should never have
to leave people.

One shouldn’t be forced to forget.

One should love one girl
and no other, not even platonically.

Especially not platonically.

Thanks to you, I’ve taken a step
on the path to sainthood.

As I said, women always aid
my moral progress.

Even in the brothels of Veracruz?

I’ve never been to a brother there,
or in Valparaiso, or anywhere.

- 1 meant Valparaiso.
- You have a match?

Anyway, it might have done you good
both physically and morally.

You think so?

You idiot.

What bothers me
is your lack of spontaneity.

I’ve laid my heart bare.
What more do you want?

I don’t care for this business
of love with conditions attached.

I didn’t specify any conditions.

I said one should love one woman only.
That’s not a condition.

It’s not that.

I mean your way of calculating,
planning ahead, classifying.

“Above all, my wife must be Catholic.
Love will follow in due course.”

Not at all.

I just think it’s easier to love
if there are shared beliefs.

For example, I could marry you,
but love would be missing.

Thanks a lot!

From your side...

as well as mine.

You’d really marry me?

Were you married in church?

Then in the eyes of the church
it didn’t count.

We could marry in grand style.

It’d make me a bit uneasy,

but no need
to be holier than the pope.

You’re such a Jesuit.

- So I’m not a Jansenist?
- 1 don’t get that feeling.

Good. Jansenists
are a mournful bunch.

You’re a happy soul,
in spite of appearances.

I’m happy around you.

- And around others?
- A drag. Really.

I’m happy with you
because I know we’ll never meet again.

Now I’ve heard everything!

The future needn’t depress us,
since you and I have no future.

Yes, but surely
we’ll meet again sometime?

Maybe not... or very rarely.

Is that a premonition?

Just a logical deduction:
You’re leaving.

Not right away.

And I’ll be very busy.

Business or love?

Love, of course.

So it’s true.

I love teasing you.
Anyway, you’ll be the last to know.

So there’s something to know.

If it makes you happy.

Shall we talk on the phone?

- You call me.
- All right.

See? Just this morning
we spoke of chance.

You recognized me
from that far off?

Even with 10-to-1 odds against,
I’d have stopped.

Well, it is me.

- You going home on that?
- 1 missed my bus.

- I’ll take you.
- No need.

I insist. It’s too dangerous
in this weather.

Besides, it’s on my way.

Get in.

- What do you study?
- Biology.

But I work in a lab too.
That’s why I’m not off on vacation.

You like the work?

I was good at math, but I couldn’t see
teaching or being an engineer.

- What about medicine?
- No, that’s not for me either.

You really live in the country.

No, it’s in a village,
a house rented to students.

There on the right.

Careful. It’s sure to be icy.

You’re right.

- Can we make it?
- I’m afraid not.

What shall we do?

- Don’t be afraid.
- Watch out for the wall.

I’m afraid I’ll get stuck.

- I’m stuck. I can’t move.
- We can walk the rest of the way.

Everyone’s away.
You can sleep in a spare room.

Will you come?

- Is it far?
- No, right there.

Think I can leave the car like this?

No one can get through anyway.
We’ll get help tomorrow.

Careful. It’s slippery.

This is my place.

So...

- Do you smoke?
- No, but go ahead.

I don’t have a match.

Care for some tea?

I’d love some.

- Can I help?
- No need.

There’s nothing to it.

I make very good tea.
One of my rare talents.

All right. Go ahead.

Where’s the tea?

Don’t put it in yet!

I thought it had to boil.

It’s nice here.

It feels homey.

I have a furnished place...

with a kitchen I hardly ever use.

Think I could rent a room here?

It’s full.
And it’s students only.

- Boys?
- Boys and girls. It’s not boarding school.

Then I’ll enroll at the university.
Save me a room for next year.

Have you been in Clermont long?

Three months. I work at Michelin.

Before that
I was in Canada and Chile.

I had doubts about coming here,
but I like it.

Clermont’s not a depressing place.

- The town or the people?
- The town. I don’t know the people.

Are they nice?
- Yes, the few I know.

Otherwise I wouldn’t know.

Do you see them often?

At the moment I’m a bit lonely,
but that’s just circumstances.

Why?

External circumstances.
Friends who went away.

It’s of no interest.

- To you or me?
- You.

But you must have colleagues at work.
- 1 do.

I don’t make friends easily.

I think it’s silly
being friends with someone

just because he works with you.

Don’t you agree?

In a way, but -

But?

No, you’re right.

Was I wrong to approach you?

No, but I might have said
to get lost.

The fact you didn’t
just shows how lucky I am.

Maybe I was wrong not to.

It’s the first time I’ve let anyone
approach me on the street.

It’s the first time
I ever approached a stranger.

Good thing I didn’t stop to think.
I’d have chickened out.

The water’s boiling.

No, let me. I enjoy it.

You’re laughing at me.

No, I’m picking up pointers.

That’s not much.

- You like it strong?
- Not too strong.

People always put in too much.

It’s crucial to let it brew
for seven minutes.

That long?

It says so
right on the container.

Don’t you ever read instructions?

You’ll poison yourself
one of these days.

Do you mind
my going on about my luck?

No. And you don’t go on about it.

Yes, I do.

I like to make the most
of chance opportunities.

But I’m only lucky
with good causes.

I doubt I’d have any luck
committing a crime.

That way you have no problems
with your conscience.

Very few.

Do you?

I’m the opposite.

Success makes me
a bit suspicious.

That’s called sinning against hope.
Very serious.

Don’t you believe in grace?
- Yes.

But that’s not grace.

Grace isn’t about material success.

I’m not necessarily talking
about material things.

If grace is given to us merely
to shore up a clear conscience,

if it’s undeserved,
just an excuse to justify everything -

- You’re quite a Jansenist.
- Not at all.

Unlike you,
I don’t believe in predestination.

I think we’re free to choose
at every moment of our lives,

even if God aids us in our choice.

I make choices too.

It just so happens that
my choices are always easy.

That’s been my experience.

Sugar?

Choices don’t have to be agonizing,
but they can be.

You misunderstand me.

I don’t mean
I choose what pleases me.

It just happens to be
for my moral good.

For instance,
a girl I loved didn’t love me

and left me for another.

In the end it was good
she married him and not me.

Yes, if she loved him.

No, I mean good for me,
because I didn’t really love her.

He left his wife and children for her.

I had no wife or children to leave.

But she knew that if I’d had,
I wouldn’t have left them.

So my misfortune
was really a stroke of luck.

Because you have principles
that took precedence over love.

She knew that your choice
was already made.

But I had no choice to make.
She left me.

Because she knew
your principles.

But if she’d had
a husband and children

and wanted to leave them for you,

then you’d have had to choose.

No. Luck was on my side.

It’s getting late, isn’t it?
I’ll show you your room.

TRUE AND FALSE CONVERSION,
OR ATHEISM DEBATED

Come in.

Excuse me.
I still have no matches.

They’re on the mantel.

Keep them.

Thanks.

Good night.

Pardon the interruption.
- Good night.

It’s 9:30.

Come in.

Sleep well?

It was tough at first.

It’s late.
Did you forget your rendezvous?

With a girl. At church.

That’s right. It’s Sunday.

I have to see to my car.
- We’ll get someone to help.

I should clean up at home first.

You’re fine as you are.
Come have some tea.

It’s a good thing
I brought you home.

Despite your rough night?

You mean I look that bad?

Why are you laughing?

No reason.

- You seem the cheerful type.
- 1 am. Aren’t you?

Not really.

Depends on who I’m with.

I feel very comfortable with you.

Françoise,
do you realize I love you?

Don’t say that.

Why?

You don’t know me.

I’m never wrong about people.

I might disappoint you.

Don’t say that.

Let’s go.

Christianity is not a moral code.

It’s a way of life.

It’s an adventure,

the most splendid adventure of all:

an adventure in holiness.

I don’t shut my eyes to the fact...

that one must be mad
to become a saint...

and that many of those
now canonized...

were afraid of the path
unfolding before them...

afraid of this progression

carrying them along to holiness.

But beyond our fears...

we must have faith

in Our Lord, Jesus Christ,

a faith that surpasses
the wildest hopes of man,

a faith that simply reminds us
that God loves us,

and that this man, this saint...

that we are asked to become...

is on the one hand...

governed by the difficulties of life,

of existence,
of living the life of man,

with his passions,
his weakness, his tenderness,

while on the other hand
also longing

to be a disciple of Jesus Christ.

Is the doctor there, please?

Left? For good?

She’ll be back on Friday?
Thank you.

- How are you?
- You know each other?

It’s a small town.

Anyway, why haven’t you called,
you so-and-so?

I tried you two days ago.

I was in Toulouse until yesterday.

I have a message for you:
Our lady friend is leaving.

- Is she gone?
- Not yet.

We went to check out Toulouse.

We just got back.

She’ll leave again soon,
without me.

- When?
- Tomorrow, I think.

Everything came together
very quickly.

Is she home tonight?
I’ll give her a call.

Good-bye now.

Happy New Year.

- You know him?
- He’s on the philosophy faculty.

- You don’t take philosophy.
- It’s a small town.

Anyway,
we hardly know each other.

Is he a friend of yours?

An old school pal.

- What have you got against him?
- Nothing.

We barely know each other.
That’s all.

- What would you wish for?
- That we’d always known each other.

Me too.

Though I feel like
I’ve always known you,

that you’ve always been
a part of my life.

Feelings can be deceptive.

So what if they are?

Besides, I know I’m not wrong.

Kiss me.

You don’t want to kiss me?

What’s wrong?

Nothing.

- You’re acting strange.
- No, I’m being sensible.

Listen, Françoise.

I’m 34, you’re 22,
and we’re acting like 15-year-olds.

Don’t you trust me anymore?

You think I’m not serious?

You are, yes.

Well, then?

I have a lover.

You have -

Now?

I mean, I did until not long ago.

You love him?

I did.

- Who is it?
- You don’t know him.

Don’t worry. It’s not Vidal.

Did he leave you?

No, it’s more complicated
than that.

He’s married.

You know I respect you
and your independence.

If you don’t love me -
- Are you crazy?

I mean, if you’re not sure.

But I am.
You’re the one I love.

What about him?

I loved him.

I was crazy.

I could say I’ve forgotten him,

but you can’t ever really forget
someone you’ve loved.

I saw him
just before you and I met.

Do you see him often?

No, he left Clermont.

It’s all over.

We’ll never see each other again.

Listen...

we can wait as long as you like.

But if you think I love or respect you
any less now, you’re wrong.

First, because I have
no right to judge.

And also because I must say...

I’m glad.

It’s true.

I felt a bit
conscience-stricken myself.

I’ve had affairs,
and some went on a long time.

This way we’re even.

- But they weren’t married.
- So?

And it was far away, in America.

I have another confession:
The very morning we met,

I’d just left a girl’s place.

I’d slept with her.

Let’s never bring
the subject up again.

Okay? Let’s never
talk about it again.

It’s you!

Have you been here long?
- We just arrived.

You’re the last person
I expected to run into.

But we come here every year.

- You haven’t changed.
- You neither.

Do you know my wife?

Yes. I mean, by sight.

Congratulations.
Why didn’t I get an announcement?

I didn’t know your address.

You could have called before I left.

I believe I tried.

No use lying.
I have an excellent memory.

You deserted me shamelessly.

Anyway, you had your reasons.

- Excuse us.
- I’ll catch up.

So it was her.

How strange.
I should have guessed.

- “Her”?
- Your wife, Françoise.

I never spoke to you about her.

You certainly did!
Your fiancee, the blonde Catholic.

I have a good memory.
- But I didn’t even know her then.

Why lie?

I met her the very day
after that evening at your place.

Evening?
You mean night. Our night.

You never stopped talking about her.

Has she mentioned me?

You’re as secretive as ever.

Well, let’s not stir up those cold ashes.
That was long ago.

It’s amazing.
You haven’t changed a bit.

Neither have you.

And yet it all seems so long ago.

No longer than anything else, really.

By the way, I remarried.
- Congratulations.

Thanks, but it’s not going well.

I don’t know how I manage
to have so little luck with men.

It’s nice to see you again...

even if it was to find out -

Enough.
I’m boring you with all this.

Will you be in the area long?

No, we’re leaving tonight.

Do you ever visit Clermont?

Never. Do you visit Toulouse?

Never.

But who knows?
Maybe in another five years.

Yes, in another five years.

Hurry now. Your wife will think
I’m telling you horrible things.

She sends her regards.

She and her husband
are catching the boat tonight.

I didn’t realize
you knew each other.

When she left Clermont,
I’d only just met you.

She says we haven’t changed.

Neither has she.

It’s amazing how little
people change in five years.

I couldn’t pretend
I didn’t recognize her.

Besides,
she’s a very nice woman.

You know...

when I met you,
I’d just come from her place, but -

I was about to say,
“But nothing happened”...

when I suddenly realized

that Françoise feared
not what she might find out about me

but what she was guessing
I’d found out about her,

something which was only
dawning on me

at that very moment.

So I said instead...

She was my last fling.

Strange running into her
of all people, huh?

I think it’s quite funny.

Anyway,
that was long, long ago...

and we said we’d never
bring it up again.

That’s right.
It’s of absolutely no importance.

Go for a swim?

How about a swim?

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