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Brown Morning
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Brown Morning Franck Pavloff
photo: S.D.
Translated from the French by Chris Mulhern
Franck Pavloff is a psychologist and a specialist in children’s rights. He spent ten years working with community development projects throughout Africa and Asia and another twenty years supporting associations to combat delinquency and drug abuse. His published work includes novels for adults and children as well as two volumes of poetry. Of Bulgarian and French extraction, he lives in Grenoble, France.
THE O’BRIEN PRESS DUBLIN
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Brown Morning Franck Pavloff
photo: S.D.
Translated from the French by Chris Mulhern
Franck Pavloff is a psychologist and a specialist in childrenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s rights. He spent ten years working with community development projects throughout Africa and Asia and another twenty years supporting associations to combat delinquency and drug abuse. His published work includes novels for adults and children as well as two volumes of poetry. Of Bulgarian and French extraction, he lives in Grenoble, France.
THE Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;BRIEN PRESS DUBLIN
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This edition published 2003 by The O’Brien Press Ltd, 20 Victoria Road, Dublin 6, Ireland. Tel: +353 1 4923333; Fax: +353 1 4922777 E-mail: books@obrien.ie Website: www.obrien.ie First published 1998 by Cheyne Editeur, France under the title Matin Brun This translation originally published by acorn book company, England, 2003. English translation copyright © acorn book company 2003 ISBN: 0-86278-838-2 Copyright for text © Franck Pavloff Copyright for typesetting, layout, editing, design © The O’Brien Press Ltd All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or utilised in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or in any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 03 04 05 06 07 Editing, typesetting, layout, design: The O’Brien Press Ltd Illustrations/Design concept: Emma Byrne Printing: Zure S.A.
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PUBLICATION HISTORY OF MATIN BRUN (BROWN MORNING) Written for a conference on fascism in 1998 at a time when the Rhone-Alps region of France became involved with politics of the extreme right, Matin Brun, a little book of twelve pages, was published by Cheyne, a small French publisher specialising in poetry. In three years, Matin Brun had sold 20,000 copies, mainly through word of mouth. Then, in 2002, Jean Marie Le Pen got through to the second round of the French presidential elections and France was shocked into an awareness of the dangerous route it was pursuing. Vincent Josse, a broadcaster with radio France-Inter, spoke about the book and its message just before interviewing Le Pen. That day, as soon as the bookshops opened, the telephone and fax at the publishers began to ring, and they haven’t stopped since. Matin Brun has been continuously in the French bestseller list since then and latest estimates are that it has sold over 500,000 copies. It has also translated into several languages.
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This edition published 2003 by The O’Brien Press Ltd, 20 Victoria Road, Dublin 6, Ireland. Tel: +353 1 4923333; Fax: +353 1 4922777 E-mail: books@obrien.ie Website: www.obrien.ie First published 1998 by Cheyne Editeur, France under the title Matin Brun This translation originally published by acorn book company, England, 2003. English translation copyright © acorn book company 2003 ISBN: 0-86278-838-2 Copyright for text © Franck Pavloff Copyright for typesetting, layout, editing, design © The O’Brien Press Ltd All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or utilised in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or in any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 03 04 05 06 07 Editing, typesetting, layout, design: The O’Brien Press Ltd Illustrations/Design concept: Emma Byrne Printing: Zure S.A.
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PUBLICATION HISTORY OF MATIN BRUN (BROWN MORNING) Written for a conference on fascism in 1998 at a time when the Rhone-Alps region of France became involved with politics of the extreme right, Matin Brun, a little book of twelve pages, was published by Cheyne, a small French publisher specialising in poetry. In three years, Matin Brun had sold 20,000 copies, mainly through word of mouth. Then, in 2002, Jean Marie Le Pen got through to the second round of the French presidential elections and France was shocked into an awareness of the dangerous route it was pursuing. Vincent Josse, a broadcaster with radio France-Inter, spoke about the book and its message just before interviewing Le Pen. That day, as soon as the bookshops opened, the telephone and fax at the publishers began to ring, and they haven’t stopped since. Matin Brun has been continuously in the French bestseller list since then and latest estimates are that it has sold over 500,000 copies. It has also translated into several languages.
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HE’D BEEN TELLING ME SOMETHING ABOUT HIS DOG. ABOUT SOME INJECTION HE’D HAD TO GIVE IT. BUT EVEN THEN I DIDN’T REALLY TAKE TOO MUCH NOTICE.
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HE’D BEEN TELLING ME SOMETHING ABOUT HIS DOG. ABOUT SOME INJECTION HE’D HAD TO GIVE IT. BUT EVEN THEN I DIDN’T REALLY TAKE TOO MUCH NOTICE.
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harlie and I were sitting in the sunshine. Neither of us was talking that much. Just sharing the odd thought as it came into our heads. To be honest, I hadn’t really been paying much attention to what he was saying. Time was drifting by pleasantly as we sipped at our coffees and watched the world pass by. He’d been telling me something about his dog. About some injection he’d had to give it. But even then I didn’t really take too much notice. It was sad to think of the poor animal suffering, although to be honest it was fifteen, which is pretty old for a dog after all, so you’d have thought he’d have got used to the idea that it had to die some day. ‘You see,’ said Charlie. ‘I couldn’t really pass him off as a brown one.’ ‘Well, of course not. I mean he was a Labrador, wasn’t he? A black Labrador. Anyway, what was wrong with him?’ ‘Nothing. He just wasn’t a brown dog, that’s all.’ ‘What? So they’ve started on the dogs now?’ ‘Yeah.’ 8
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harlie and I were sitting in the sunshine. Neither of us was talking that much. Just sharing the odd thought as it came into our heads. To be honest, I hadn’t really been paying much attention to what he was saying. Time was drifting by pleasantly as we sipped at our coffees and watched the world pass by. He’d been telling me something about his dog. About some injection he’d had to give it. But even then I didn’t really take too much notice. It was sad to think of the poor animal suffering, although to be honest it was fifteen, which is pretty old for a dog after all, so you’d have thought he’d have got used to the idea that it had to die some day. ‘You see,’ said Charlie. ‘I couldn’t really pass him off as a brown one.’ ‘Well, of course not. I mean he was a Labrador, wasn’t he? A black Labrador. Anyway, what was wrong with him?’ ‘Nothing. He just wasn’t a brown dog, that’s all.’ ‘What? So they’ve started on the dogs now?’ ‘Yeah.’ 8
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Last month it had been the cats. I knew about the cats. Had one myself. A stray I’d picked up. A scruffy little black and white thing. I was fond of the little fellow. But I had to get rid of him. I mean they had a point, the cat population was getting way out of hand, and as the State scientists kept saying, the main thing was to look after the brown ones. According to the latest experiments, brown pets are better suited to our modern urban way of life than the others. They produce smaller litters and they eat a lot less too. In any case, at the end of the day, a cat’s a cat and it made sense to solve the problem once and for all by getting rid of the ones that weren’t brown. The Militar y Police gave out free arsenic pellets. All you had to do was mix them in with their food and that was the end of that. I was heartbroken at first. But I soon got over it. I must admit the news about the dogs did rattle me a bit, though. I don’t know why, particularly. Perhaps it’s just because they’re bigger. Or maybe it’s because of them being ‘man’s best friend’ as they say. Anyway, Charlie seemed to have taken it in his stride, which was the right thing to do. After all, it doesn’t do to get too worked up about these things. And as for brown dogs being superior to the others, well I suppose it must be true.
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I MUST ADMIT THE NEWS ABOUT THE DOGS DID RATTLE ME A BIT, THOUGH. I DON’T KNOW WHY, PARTICULARLY. PERHAPS IT’S JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE BIGGER. OR MAYBE IT’S BECAUSE OF THEM BEING ‘MAN’S BEST FRIEND’ AS THEY SAY.
There didn’t seem to be much else to talk about, so after a while we went our separate ways. But at the back of my mind was a feeling that something had been left unsaid. A lingering doubt that somehow cast a shadow over the rest of the day. Not long after that, it was my turn to break the news to Charlie that the Daily would no longer be appearing. The Daily – the paper that he read every morning while having his coffee! ‘What do you mean? Are they on strike? Have they gone bankrupt or something?’ ‘No, no. Nothing like that. It’s to do with that business with the dogs.’ ‘What, the brown ones?’ ‘Exactly. Hardly a day went by without them going on about that new law. It got to the point where they were even 11
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Last month it had been the cats. I knew about the cats. Had one myself. A stray I’d picked up. A scruffy little black and white thing. I was fond of the little fellow. But I had to get rid of him. I mean they had a point, the cat population was getting way out of hand, and as the State scientists kept saying, the main thing was to look after the brown ones. According to the latest experiments, brown pets are better suited to our modern urban way of life than the others. They produce smaller litters and they eat a lot less too. In any case, at the end of the day, a cat’s a cat and it made sense to solve the problem once and for all by getting rid of the ones that weren’t brown. The Militar y Police gave out free arsenic pellets. All you had to do was mix them in with their food and that was the end of that. I was heartbroken at first. But I soon got over it. I must admit the news about the dogs did rattle me a bit, though. I don’t know why, particularly. Perhaps it’s just because they’re bigger. Or maybe it’s because of them being ‘man’s best friend’ as they say. Anyway, Charlie seemed to have taken it in his stride, which was the right thing to do. After all, it doesn’t do to get too worked up about these things. And as for brown dogs being superior to the others, well I suppose it must be true.
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I MUST ADMIT THE NEWS ABOUT THE DOGS DID RATTLE ME A BIT, THOUGH. I DON’T KNOW WHY, PARTICULARLY. PERHAPS IT’S JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE BIGGER. OR MAYBE IT’S BECAUSE OF THEM BEING ‘MAN’S BEST FRIEND’ AS THEY SAY.
There didn’t seem to be much else to talk about, so after a while we went our separate ways. But at the back of my mind was a feeling that something had been left unsaid. A lingering doubt that somehow cast a shadow over the rest of the day. Not long after that, it was my turn to break the news to Charlie that the Daily would no longer be appearing. The Daily – the paper that he read every morning while having his coffee! ‘What do you mean? Are they on strike? Have they gone bankrupt or something?’ ‘No, no. Nothing like that. It’s to do with that business with the dogs.’ ‘What, the brown ones?’ ‘Exactly. Hardly a day went by without them going on about that new law. It got to the point where they were even 11
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beginning to question scientific facts. I mean the readers didn’t know what to think anymore. Some of them had even started hiding their dogs!’ ‘But that’s asking for trouble!’ ‘Of course it is, and so now the paper’s been banned.’ ‘You’re joking! What about the racing?’ ‘Well, my old friend, you’ll just have to start getting your tips from the Brown News in future won’t you? There’s nothing else out there. Anyway, their racing section’s not too bad, apparently.’ The others had all gone too far. But at the end of the day you’ve still got to have some kind of paper. I mean you’ve got to have some way of finding out what’s going on, haven’t you? I’d started out having a quiet coffee with Charlie and here I was getting all worked up about becoming a reader of the Brown News. And all around me the other people in the café were carrying on as if nothing had happened. I was obviously just worrying about nothing.
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beginning to question scientific facts. I mean the readers didn’t know what to think anymore. Some of them had even started hiding their dogs!’ ‘But that’s asking for trouble!’ ‘Of course it is, and so now the paper’s been banned.’ ‘You’re joking! What about the racing?’ ‘Well, my old friend, you’ll just have to start getting your tips from the Brown News in future won’t you? There’s nothing else out there. Anyway, their racing section’s not too bad, apparently.’ The others had all gone too far. But at the end of the day you’ve still got to have some kind of paper. I mean you’ve got to have some way of finding out what’s going on, haven’t you? I’d started out having a quiet coffee with Charlie and here I was getting all worked up about becoming a reader of the Brown News. And all around me the other people in the café were carrying on as if nothing had happened. I was obviously just worrying about nothing.
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After that it was the library books. There was something not quite right about that either. The publishing houses which had belonged to the same group as The Daily were taken to court and their books ended up being banned from the shelves of the libraries and bookshops. But then again everything they published did seem to mention the words ‘dog’ or ‘cat’, and not always alongside the word ‘brown’. So it was obvious what they were up to. ‘That’s just taking the mick,’ said Charlie. ‘The law’s the law. There’s no point playing cat and mouse with it.’ ‘Brown,’ he added, looking around him, in case anyone had been listening to our conversation. ‘Brown mouse.’ Just to be on the safe side, we’d started adding ‘brown’ at the end of phrases, or after certain words. We began by asking for a brown pastis, which sounded a bit funny at first, but the slang is always changing anyway, so for us it was no different to add ‘brown’ at the end of a phrase than it was to add ‘bloody hell’ – like we usually did. At least that way we didn’t attract any undue attention. And that was the way we liked it. We even had a win on the horses. I mean it wasn’t the jackpot or anything. But it was a win all the same. Our first brown win! And that made everything else seem OK.
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WE EVEN HAD A WIN ON THE HORSES. I MEAN IT WASN’T THE JACKPOT OR ANYTHING. BUT IT WAS A WIN ALL THE SAME. OUR FIRST BROWN WIN! AND THAT MADE EVERYTHING ELSE SEEM OK.
There is one day with Charlie that I’ll always remember. I’d invited him to come over to my place to watch the Cup Final. And as soon as we saw each other we fell about laughing. He’d got this new dog. It was an enormous great beast. Brown from the tip of its tail to the end of its snout. Had brown eyes, too. ‘Isn’t he great! He’s far more friendly than my last one. More obedient, too. And to think of all that fuss I made about that black Labrador.’ As soon as he said that, his new dog dived under the sofa, and started barking its head off. And with each bark it seemed to be saying ‘I’m brown! I’m brown! And no one tells me what to do!’ We both looked at it in amazement. And then the penny dropped. ‘You too?’ said Charlie. 15
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After that it was the library books. There was something not quite right about that either. The publishing houses which had belonged to the same group as The Daily were taken to court and their books ended up being banned from the shelves of the libraries and bookshops. But then again everything they published did seem to mention the words ‘dog’ or ‘cat’, and not always alongside the word ‘brown’. So it was obvious what they were up to. ‘That’s just taking the mick,’ said Charlie. ‘The law’s the law. There’s no point playing cat and mouse with it.’ ‘Brown,’ he added, looking around him, in case anyone had been listening to our conversation. ‘Brown mouse.’ Just to be on the safe side, we’d started adding ‘brown’ at the end of phrases, or after certain words. We began by asking for a brown pastis, which sounded a bit funny at first, but the slang is always changing anyway, so for us it was no different to add ‘brown’ at the end of a phrase than it was to add ‘bloody hell’ – like we usually did. At least that way we didn’t attract any undue attention. And that was the way we liked it. We even had a win on the horses. I mean it wasn’t the jackpot or anything. But it was a win all the same. Our first brown win! And that made everything else seem OK.
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WE EVEN HAD A WIN ON THE HORSES. I MEAN IT WASN’T THE JACKPOT OR ANYTHING. BUT IT WAS A WIN ALL THE SAME. OUR FIRST BROWN WIN! AND THAT MADE EVERYTHING ELSE SEEM OK.
There is one day with Charlie that I’ll always remember. I’d invited him to come over to my place to watch the Cup Final. And as soon as we saw each other we fell about laughing. He’d got this new dog. It was an enormous great beast. Brown from the tip of its tail to the end of its snout. Had brown eyes, too. ‘Isn’t he great! He’s far more friendly than my last one. More obedient, too. And to think of all that fuss I made about that black Labrador.’ As soon as he said that, his new dog dived under the sofa, and started barking its head off. And with each bark it seemed to be saying ‘I’m brown! I’m brown! And no one tells me what to do!’ We both looked at it in amazement. And then the penny dropped. ‘You too?’ said Charlie. 15
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‘I’m afraid so.’ You see, just then my new cat had bolted into the room and shot up the curtains to hide on top of the wardrobe. A cat with brown fur, and those brown eyes that seem to follow you wherever you went. And that was why the two of us fell about laughing. Talk about coincidence! ‘I’ve always been more of a cat person, myself ... isn’t he lovely?’ ‘Beautiful,’ he said, shaking his head. Then we turned on the telly, while our brown animals watched each other warily out of the corners of their eyes. I couldn’t even tell you who won the Final after all that. I just remember that day as being a real laugh. We really felt that the changes that had been going on in the city were nothing to worry about after all. I mean you did what you were supposed to do and you were safe. Perhaps the new regulations would make life simpler for everyone. Of course, I did spare a thought for a little boy I’d seen earlier that day. He was kneeling on the other side of the street, sobbing away to himself. On the ground in front of him, a small white poodle was lying dead. But I knew he’d soon get over it. After all, it wasn’t as if dogs were forbidden. All he had to do was look for a brown one. You can even get little ones like he had. Then he’d be just like us. It’s good to know you’re on the right side of the law. 16
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‘I’m afraid so.’ You see, just then my new cat had bolted into the room and shot up the curtains to hide on top of the wardrobe. A cat with brown fur, and those brown eyes that seem to follow you wherever you went. And that was why the two of us fell about laughing. Talk about coincidence! ‘I’ve always been more of a cat person, myself ... isn’t he lovely?’ ‘Beautiful,’ he said, shaking his head. Then we turned on the telly, while our brown animals watched each other warily out of the corners of their eyes. I couldn’t even tell you who won the Final after all that. I just remember that day as being a real laugh. We really felt that the changes that had been going on in the city were nothing to worry about after all. I mean you did what you were supposed to do and you were safe. Perhaps the new regulations would make life simpler for everyone. Of course, I did spare a thought for a little boy I’d seen earlier that day. He was kneeling on the other side of the street, sobbing away to himself. On the ground in front of him, a small white poodle was lying dead. But I knew he’d soon get over it. After all, it wasn’t as if dogs were forbidden. All he had to do was look for a brown one. You can even get little ones like he had. Then he’d be just like us. It’s good to know you’re on the right side of the law. 16
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And then yesterday, just when I thought everything was OK, I almost got myself collared by the Military Police. The guys in the brown uniforms. They never let you get away with anything, that lot. Fortunately they didn’t recognise me because they were new to the area and hadn’t got to know everyone yet. I was on my way over to Charlie’s. It was a Sunday, and I was going over to his place for a game of cards. I’d brought a few beers along for the occasion. You’ve got to have a good game of cards now and again. A couple of hours slapping the deck and munching away at something. As I came up the stairs I got the shock of my life. The door of his flat had been kicked in and two Military Police were standing in front of it telling people to keep moving. I pretended I was on my way to the flat upstairs and went up the staircase to the next floor where I took the lift back down. Outside in the street, the whispers had already started. ‘But he had a brown dog! We’ve all seen it!’ ‘Well, yes, but what they’re saying is that previously he had a black one.’ ‘Previously?’ ‘Yes, previously. It’s now an offence to have had one that wasn’t brown in the first place. And that’s not hard to find out. All they have to do is ask one of the neighbours.’ I hurried away, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of my neck. If it was an offence to have had one previously it was only a matter of time before the Military Police would be after me too. Everyone in my block knew that I’d had a black and white cat. Previously! I’d never even thought of that. 18
This morning, Brown Radio confirmed the news. Charlie was one of five hundred people who had been arrested. The official line was that even though they had recently bought a brown animal that did not mean they had in fact changed their way of thinking. ‘To have been the owner of a dog or a cat that did not conform at some previous time, is an offence,’ the speaker announced. Then he added: ‘An offence against the State.’ What came next was even worse. Even if you had never actually owned a dog or a cat, but someone in your family – your father or brother or a cousin, for example – if any one of them had at some point in their life owned a dog or a cat that was not brown, then you were guilty. You were all guilty. I had no idea what they’d done with Charlie.
THIS MORNING, BROWN RADIO CONFIRMED
THE NEWS. CHARLIE WAS ONE OF FIVE HUNDRED PEOPLE WHO HAD BEEN ARRESTED. THE OFFICIAL LINE WAS THAT EVEN THOUGH THEY HAD RECENTLY BOUGHT A BROWN ANIMAL THAT DID NOT MEAN THEY HAD IN FACT CHANGED THEIR WAY OF THINKING. 19
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And then yesterday, just when I thought everything was OK, I almost got myself collared by the Military Police. The guys in the brown uniforms. They never let you get away with anything, that lot. Fortunately they didn’t recognise me because they were new to the area and hadn’t got to know everyone yet. I was on my way over to Charlie’s. It was a Sunday, and I was going over to his place for a game of cards. I’d brought a few beers along for the occasion. You’ve got to have a good game of cards now and again. A couple of hours slapping the deck and munching away at something. As I came up the stairs I got the shock of my life. The door of his flat had been kicked in and two Military Police were standing in front of it telling people to keep moving. I pretended I was on my way to the flat upstairs and went up the staircase to the next floor where I took the lift back down. Outside in the street, the whispers had already started. ‘But he had a brown dog! We’ve all seen it!’ ‘Well, yes, but what they’re saying is that previously he had a black one.’ ‘Previously?’ ‘Yes, previously. It’s now an offence to have had one that wasn’t brown in the first place. And that’s not hard to find out. All they have to do is ask one of the neighbours.’ I hurried away, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of my neck. If it was an offence to have had one previously it was only a matter of time before the Military Police would be after me too. Everyone in my block knew that I’d had a black and white cat. Previously! I’d never even thought of that. 18
This morning, Brown Radio confirmed the news. Charlie was one of five hundred people who had been arrested. The official line was that even though they had recently bought a brown animal that did not mean they had in fact changed their way of thinking. ‘To have been the owner of a dog or a cat that did not conform at some previous time, is an offence,’ the speaker announced. Then he added: ‘An offence against the State.’ What came next was even worse. Even if you had never actually owned a dog or a cat, but someone in your family – your father or brother or a cousin, for example – if any one of them had at some point in their life owned a dog or a cat that was not brown, then you were guilty. You were all guilty. I had no idea what they’d done with Charlie.
THIS MORNING, BROWN RADIO CONFIRMED
THE NEWS. CHARLIE WAS ONE OF FIVE HUNDRED PEOPLE WHO HAD BEEN ARRESTED. THE OFFICIAL LINE WAS THAT EVEN THOUGH THEY HAD RECENTLY BOUGHT A BROWN ANIMAL THAT DID NOT MEAN THEY HAD IN FACT CHANGED THEIR WAY OF THINKING. 19
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This was all getting out of hand. The world was going mad. And there I was thinking I was safe with my new brown cat. Of course, if they took into account what colour pet you’d had previously, they could arrest anyone they liked. I couldn’t sleep a wink that night. I should have been suspicious of the Browns from the start. That first law of theirs about the pets. I should have said something then. After all, it was my cat. And Charlie’s dog. We should just have said: No. Should have stood up to them. But what could we do? I mean, everything happened so quickly. And then there was work and all the everyday stuff to worry about. Anyway, we weren’t the only ones. Everyone did the same thing. Kept their heads down. All we wanted was a bit of peace and quiet. Someone is knocking at the door. It’s early. Too early. No one comes round at this time. It’s not even daylight yet. It’s still brown. Stop knocking so loudly. I’m coming ...
I’m afraid.
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This was all getting out of hand. The world was going mad. And there I was thinking I was safe with my new brown cat. Of course, if they took into account what colour pet you’d had previously, they could arrest anyone they liked. I couldn’t sleep a wink that night. I should have been suspicious of the Browns from the start. That first law of theirs about the pets. I should have said something then. After all, it was my cat. And Charlie’s dog. We should just have said: No. Should have stood up to them. But what could we do? I mean, everything happened so quickly. And then there was work and all the everyday stuff to worry about. Anyway, we weren’t the only ones. Everyone did the same thing. Kept their heads down. All we wanted was a bit of peace and quiet. Someone is knocking at the door. It’s early. Too early. No one comes round at this time. It’s not even daylight yet. It’s still brown. Stop knocking so loudly. I’m coming ...
I’m afraid.
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Other books by Franck Pavloff Le Vent des fous, Gallimard, 1993 Foulée noire, Baleine, 1995 Un trou dans la zone, Baleine, 1996 Les Yeux de Bee, Baleine, 1998 La Gare de Lourenço Marquès, Baleine, 1998 La Nuit des friches, Le Verger, 2001 Après moi, Hiroshima, Zulma, 2002
For young readers: Pinguino, Syros, 1994 Lao, Wee et Arusha, Syros, 1994 Le Squat résiste, Syros, 1996 Menace sur la ville, Albin Michel, 1998 Prise d’otage au soleil, Nathan, 2000
Poetry: Les Jardins de Barbarie, Le Ricochet, 2000 Indienne d’exil, Tryptique, 2001
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Other books by Franck Pavloff Le Vent des fous, Gallimard, 1993 Foulée noire, Baleine, 1995 Un trou dans la zone, Baleine, 1996 Les Yeux de Bee, Baleine, 1998 La Gare de Lourenço Marquès, Baleine, 1998 La Nuit des friches, Le Verger, 2001 Après moi, Hiroshima, Zulma, 2002
For young readers: Pinguino, Syros, 1994 Lao, Wee et Arusha, Syros, 1994 Le Squat résiste, Syros, 1996 Menace sur la ville, Albin Michel, 1998 Prise d’otage au soleil, Nathan, 2000
Poetry: Les Jardins de Barbarie, Le Ricochet, 2000 Indienne d’exil, Tryptique, 2001
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matin brun
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matin brun
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Les jambes allongées au soleil, on ne parlait pas vraiment avec Charlie, on échangeait des pensées qui nous couraient dans la tête, sans bien faire attention à ce que l’autre racontait de son côté. Des moments agréables, où on laissait filer le temps en sirotant un café. Lorsqu’il m’a dit qu’il avait dû faire piquer son chien, ça m’a surpris, mais sans plus. C’est toujours triste un clebs qui vieillit mal, mais passé quinze ans, il faut se faire a l’idée qu’un jour ou l’autre il va mourir. - Tu comprends, je pouvais pas le faire passer pour un brun. - Ben, un labrador, c’est pas trop sa couleur, mais il avait quoi comme maladie? - C’est pas la question, c’était pas un chien brun, c’est tout. - Mince alors, comme pour les chats, maintenant? - Oui, pareil. Pour les chats, j’étais au courant. Le mois dernier, j’avais dû me débarrasser du mien, un de gouttière qui avait eu la mauvaise idée de naître blanc, taché de noir. C’est vrai que la surpopulation des chats devenait insupportable, et que d’après ce que les scientifiques de l’État National disait, il valait mieux garder les bruns. Que des bruns. Tous les tests de sélection prouvaient qu’ils s’adaptaient mieux à notre vie citadine, qu’ils avaient des portées peu nombreuses et qu’ils mangeaient beaucoup moins. Ma foi, un chat c’est un chat, et comme il fallait bien résoudre le problème d’une facon ou d’une autre, va pour le décret qui instaurait la suppression des chats qui n’étaient pas bruns.
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Les milices de la ville distribuaient gratuitement des boulettes d’arsenic. Mélangées à la pâtée, elles expédiaient les matous en moins de deux. Mon coeur s’était serré, puis on oublie vite. Les chiens, ça m’avait surpris un peu plus, je ne sais pas trop pourquoi, peut-être parce que c’est plus gros, ou que c’est le compagnon de l’homme, comme on dit. En tout cas, Charlie venait d’en parler aussi naturellement que je l’avais fait pour mon chat, et il avait sans doute raison. Trop de sensiblerie ne mène pas à grand chose, et pour les chiens, c’est sans doute vrai que les bruns sont plus résistants. On n’avait plus grand chose à se dire, on s’était quittés mais avec une drôle d’impression. Comme si on ne s’était pas tout dit. Pas trop à l’aise. Quelque temps apres, c’est moi qui avais apprit à Charlie que le Quotidien de la ville ne paraîtrait plus. Il en était resté sur le cul: le journal qu’il ouvrait tous les matins en prenant son café crème! - Ils ont coulé? Des grèves, une faillite? - Non, non, c’est à la suite de l’affaire des chiens. - Des bruns? - Oui, toujours. Pas un jour sans s’attaquer à cette mesure nationale. Ils allaient jusqu’à remettre en cause les résultats des scientifiques. Les lecteurs ne savaient plus ce qu’il fallait penser, certains même commençaient à cacher leur clebard! - A trop jouer avec le feu … - Comme tu dis, le journal a fini par se faire interdire.
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Les jambes allongées au soleil, on ne parlait pas vraiment avec Charlie, on échangeait des pensées qui nous couraient dans la tête, sans bien faire attention à ce que l’autre racontait de son côté. Des moments agréables, où on laissait filer le temps en sirotant un café. Lorsqu’il m’a dit qu’il avait dû faire piquer son chien, ça m’a surpris, mais sans plus. C’est toujours triste un clebs qui vieillit mal, mais passé quinze ans, il faut se faire a l’idée qu’un jour ou l’autre il va mourir. - Tu comprends, je pouvais pas le faire passer pour un brun. - Ben, un labrador, c’est pas trop sa couleur, mais il avait quoi comme maladie? - C’est pas la question, c’était pas un chien brun, c’est tout. - Mince alors, comme pour les chats, maintenant? - Oui, pareil. Pour les chats, j’étais au courant. Le mois dernier, j’avais dû me débarrasser du mien, un de gouttière qui avait eu la mauvaise idée de naître blanc, taché de noir. C’est vrai que la surpopulation des chats devenait insupportable, et que d’après ce que les scientifiques de l’État National disait, il valait mieux garder les bruns. Que des bruns. Tous les tests de sélection prouvaient qu’ils s’adaptaient mieux à notre vie citadine, qu’ils avaient des portées peu nombreuses et qu’ils mangeaient beaucoup moins. Ma foi, un chat c’est un chat, et comme il fallait bien résoudre le problème d’une facon ou d’une autre, va pour le décret qui instaurait la suppression des chats qui n’étaient pas bruns.
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Les milices de la ville distribuaient gratuitement des boulettes d’arsenic. Mélangées à la pâtée, elles expédiaient les matous en moins de deux. Mon coeur s’était serré, puis on oublie vite. Les chiens, ça m’avait surpris un peu plus, je ne sais pas trop pourquoi, peut-être parce que c’est plus gros, ou que c’est le compagnon de l’homme, comme on dit. En tout cas, Charlie venait d’en parler aussi naturellement que je l’avais fait pour mon chat, et il avait sans doute raison. Trop de sensiblerie ne mène pas à grand chose, et pour les chiens, c’est sans doute vrai que les bruns sont plus résistants. On n’avait plus grand chose à se dire, on s’était quittés mais avec une drôle d’impression. Comme si on ne s’était pas tout dit. Pas trop à l’aise. Quelque temps apres, c’est moi qui avais apprit à Charlie que le Quotidien de la ville ne paraîtrait plus. Il en était resté sur le cul: le journal qu’il ouvrait tous les matins en prenant son café crème! - Ils ont coulé? Des grèves, une faillite? - Non, non, c’est à la suite de l’affaire des chiens. - Des bruns? - Oui, toujours. Pas un jour sans s’attaquer à cette mesure nationale. Ils allaient jusqu’à remettre en cause les résultats des scientifiques. Les lecteurs ne savaient plus ce qu’il fallait penser, certains même commençaient à cacher leur clebard! - A trop jouer avec le feu … - Comme tu dis, le journal a fini par se faire interdire.
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- Mince alors, et pour le tiercé? - Ben mon vieux, faudra chercher tes tuyaux dans les Nouvelles Brunes, il n’y a plus que celui-là. Il paraît que côté courses et sports, il tient la route. Puisque les autres avaient passé les bornes, il fallait bien qu’il reste un canard dans la ville, on ne pouvait pas se passer d’informations tout de même. J’avais repris ce jour-là un café avec Charlie, mais ça me tracassait de devenir un lecteur des Nouvelles Brunes. Pourtant, autour de moi les clients du bistrot continuaient leur vie comme avant: j’avais sûrement tort de m’inquiéter.
rajouter brun ou brune à la fin des phrases ou après les mots. Au début, demander un pastis brun, ça nous avait fait drôle, puis après tout, le langage c’est fait pour évoluer et ce n’était pas plus étrange de donner dans le brun, que de rajouter putain con, à tout bout de champ, comme on le fait par chez nous. Au moins, on était bien vus et on était tranquilles. On avait même fini par toucher le tiercé. Oh, pas un gros, mais tout de même, notre premier tiercé brun. Ça nous avait aidés à accepter les tracas des nouvelles réglementations.
Après, ça avait été au tour des livres de la bibliothèque, une histoire pas très claire, encore. Les maisons d’éditions qui faisaient partie du même groupe financier que le Quotidien de la ville, étaient poursuivies en justice et leurs livres interdits de séjour sur le rayon des bibliothèques. Il est vrai que si on lisait bien ce que ses maisons d’éditions continuaient de publier, on relevait le mot chien ou chat au moins une fois par volume, et sûrement pas toujours assorti du mot brun. Elles devaient bien le savoir tout de même. - Faut pas pousser, disait Charlie, tu comprends, la nation n’a rien à y gagner à accepter qu’on détourne la loi, et à jouer au chat et à la souris. Brune, il avait rajouté en regardant autour de lui, souris brune, au cas où on aurait surpris notre conversation. Par mesure de précaution, on avait pris l’habitude de
Un jour, avec Charlie, je m’en souviens bien, je lui avais dit de passer à la maison pour regarder la finale de la Coupe des coupes, on a attrapé un sacré fou rire. Voilà pas qu’il débarque avec un nouveau chien! Magnifique, brun de la queue au museau, avec des yeux marrons. - Tu vois, finalement il est plus affectueux que l’autre, et il m’obéit au doigt et à l’oeil. Fallait pas que j’en fasse un drame du labrador noir. A peine il avait dit cette phrase que son chien s’était précipité sous le canapé en jappant comme un dingue. Et guele que je te guele, et que même brun, je n’obéis ni à mon maître ni à personne! Et Charlie avait soudain compris. - Non, toi aussi? - Ben oui, tu vas voir.
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- Mince alors, et pour le tiercé? - Ben mon vieux, faudra chercher tes tuyaux dans les Nouvelles Brunes, il n’y a plus que celui-là. Il paraît que côté courses et sports, il tient la route. Puisque les autres avaient passé les bornes, il fallait bien qu’il reste un canard dans la ville, on ne pouvait pas se passer d’informations tout de même. J’avais repris ce jour-là un café avec Charlie, mais ça me tracassait de devenir un lecteur des Nouvelles Brunes. Pourtant, autour de moi les clients du bistrot continuaient leur vie comme avant: j’avais sûrement tort de m’inquiéter.
rajouter brun ou brune à la fin des phrases ou après les mots. Au début, demander un pastis brun, ça nous avait fait drôle, puis après tout, le langage c’est fait pour évoluer et ce n’était pas plus étrange de donner dans le brun, que de rajouter putain con, à tout bout de champ, comme on le fait par chez nous. Au moins, on était bien vus et on était tranquilles. On avait même fini par toucher le tiercé. Oh, pas un gros, mais tout de même, notre premier tiercé brun. Ça nous avait aidés à accepter les tracas des nouvelles réglementations.
Après, ça avait été au tour des livres de la bibliothèque, une histoire pas très claire, encore. Les maisons d’éditions qui faisaient partie du même groupe financier que le Quotidien de la ville, étaient poursuivies en justice et leurs livres interdits de séjour sur le rayon des bibliothèques. Il est vrai que si on lisait bien ce que ses maisons d’éditions continuaient de publier, on relevait le mot chien ou chat au moins une fois par volume, et sûrement pas toujours assorti du mot brun. Elles devaient bien le savoir tout de même. - Faut pas pousser, disait Charlie, tu comprends, la nation n’a rien à y gagner à accepter qu’on détourne la loi, et à jouer au chat et à la souris. Brune, il avait rajouté en regardant autour de lui, souris brune, au cas où on aurait surpris notre conversation. Par mesure de précaution, on avait pris l’habitude de
Un jour, avec Charlie, je m’en souviens bien, je lui avais dit de passer à la maison pour regarder la finale de la Coupe des coupes, on a attrapé un sacré fou rire. Voilà pas qu’il débarque avec un nouveau chien! Magnifique, brun de la queue au museau, avec des yeux marrons. - Tu vois, finalement il est plus affectueux que l’autre, et il m’obéit au doigt et à l’oeil. Fallait pas que j’en fasse un drame du labrador noir. A peine il avait dit cette phrase que son chien s’était précipité sous le canapé en jappant comme un dingue. Et guele que je te guele, et que même brun, je n’obéis ni à mon maître ni à personne! Et Charlie avait soudain compris. - Non, toi aussi? - Ben oui, tu vas voir.
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Et là, mon nouveau chat avait jailli comme une flèche pour grimper aux rideaux et se réfugier sur l’armoire. Un matou au regard et aux poils bruns. Qu’est-ce qu’on avait ri. Tu parles d’une coïncidence! - Tu comprends, je lui avais dit, j’ai toujours eu des chats, alors … Il est pas beau, celui-ci? - Magnifique, il m’avait répondu. Puis on avait allumé la télé, pendant que nos animaux bruns se guettaient du coin de l’oeil. Je ne sais plus qui avait gagné, mais je sais qu’on avait passé un sacré bon moment, et qu’on se sentait en sécurité. Comme si de faire tout simplement ce qui allait dans le bon sens dans la cité, nous rassurait et nous simplifiait la vie. La sécurité brun, ça pouvait avoir du bon. Bien sûr, je pensais au petit garçon que j’avais croisé sur le trottoir d’en face, et qui pleurait son caniche blanc, mort à ses pieds. Mais après tout, s’il écoutait bien ce qu’on lui disait, les chiens n’étaient pas interdits, il n’avait qu’à en chercher un brun. Même des petits, on en trouvait. Et comme nous, il se sentirait en règle et oublierait vite l’ancien. Et puis hier, incroyable, moi qui me croyais en paix, j’ai failli me faire piéger par les miliciens de la ville, ceux habillés de brun, qui ne font pas de cadeau. Ils ne m’ont pas reconnu, parce qu’ils sont nouveaux dans le quartier et qu’ils ne connaissent pas encore tout le monde. J’allais chez Charlie. Le dimanche, c’est chez Charlie qu’on
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joue à la belote. J’avais un pack de bières a la main, c’était tout. On devait taper le carton deux, trois heures, tout en grignotant. Et là, surprise totale: la porte de son appart avait volé en éclats, et deux miliciens plantés sur le palier faisaient circuler les curieux. J’ai fait semblant d’aller dans les étages du dessus et je suis redescendu par l’ascenseur. En bas, les gens parlaient a mi-voix. - Pourtant son chien était un vrai brun, on l’a bien vu, nous! - Ouais, mais à ce qu’ils disent, c’est que, avant, il en avait un noir, pas un brun. Un noir. - Avant? - Oui, avant. Le délit maintenant, c’est aussi d’en avoir eu un qui n’aurait pas été brun. Et ca, c’est pas difficile à savoir, il suffit de demander au voisin. J’ai pressé le pas. Une coulée de sueur trempait ma chemise. Si en avoir eu un avant était un délit, j’étais bon pour la milice. Tout le monde dans mon immeuble savait qu’avant j’avais eu un chat noir et blanc. Avant! Ça alors, je n’y aurais jamais pensé! Ce matin, Radio brune a confirmé la nouvelle. Charlie fait sûrement partie des cinq cents personnes qui ont été arrêtées. Ce n’est pas parce qu’on aurait acheté récemment un animal brun qu’on aurait changé de mentalité, ils on dit. “Avoir eu un chien ou un chat non conforme, à quelque époque que ce soit, est un délit”. Le speaker a même ajouté “injure a l‘Etat National”.
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Et là, mon nouveau chat avait jailli comme une flèche pour grimper aux rideaux et se réfugier sur l’armoire. Un matou au regard et aux poils bruns. Qu’est-ce qu’on avait ri. Tu parles d’une coïncidence! - Tu comprends, je lui avais dit, j’ai toujours eu des chats, alors … Il est pas beau, celui-ci? - Magnifique, il m’avait répondu. Puis on avait allumé la télé, pendant que nos animaux bruns se guettaient du coin de l’oeil. Je ne sais plus qui avait gagné, mais je sais qu’on avait passé un sacré bon moment, et qu’on se sentait en sécurité. Comme si de faire tout simplement ce qui allait dans le bon sens dans la cité, nous rassurait et nous simplifiait la vie. La sécurité brun, ça pouvait avoir du bon. Bien sûr, je pensais au petit garçon que j’avais croisé sur le trottoir d’en face, et qui pleurait son caniche blanc, mort à ses pieds. Mais après tout, s’il écoutait bien ce qu’on lui disait, les chiens n’étaient pas interdits, il n’avait qu’à en chercher un brun. Même des petits, on en trouvait. Et comme nous, il se sentirait en règle et oublierait vite l’ancien. Et puis hier, incroyable, moi qui me croyais en paix, j’ai failli me faire piéger par les miliciens de la ville, ceux habillés de brun, qui ne font pas de cadeau. Ils ne m’ont pas reconnu, parce qu’ils sont nouveaux dans le quartier et qu’ils ne connaissent pas encore tout le monde. J’allais chez Charlie. Le dimanche, c’est chez Charlie qu’on
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joue à la belote. J’avais un pack de bières a la main, c’était tout. On devait taper le carton deux, trois heures, tout en grignotant. Et là, surprise totale: la porte de son appart avait volé en éclats, et deux miliciens plantés sur le palier faisaient circuler les curieux. J’ai fait semblant d’aller dans les étages du dessus et je suis redescendu par l’ascenseur. En bas, les gens parlaient a mi-voix. - Pourtant son chien était un vrai brun, on l’a bien vu, nous! - Ouais, mais à ce qu’ils disent, c’est que, avant, il en avait un noir, pas un brun. Un noir. - Avant? - Oui, avant. Le délit maintenant, c’est aussi d’en avoir eu un qui n’aurait pas été brun. Et ca, c’est pas difficile à savoir, il suffit de demander au voisin. J’ai pressé le pas. Une coulée de sueur trempait ma chemise. Si en avoir eu un avant était un délit, j’étais bon pour la milice. Tout le monde dans mon immeuble savait qu’avant j’avais eu un chat noir et blanc. Avant! Ça alors, je n’y aurais jamais pensé! Ce matin, Radio brune a confirmé la nouvelle. Charlie fait sûrement partie des cinq cents personnes qui ont été arrêtées. Ce n’est pas parce qu’on aurait acheté récemment un animal brun qu’on aurait changé de mentalité, ils on dit. “Avoir eu un chien ou un chat non conforme, à quelque époque que ce soit, est un délit”. Le speaker a même ajouté “injure a l‘Etat National”.
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Et j’ai bien noté la suite. Même si on n’a pas eu personnellement un chien ou un chat non conforme, mais que quelqu’un de sa famille, un père, un frère, une cousine par exemple, en a possédé un, ne serait-ce qu’une fois dans sa vie, on risque soi-même de graves ennuis. Je ne sais pas où ils ont amené Charlie. Là, ils exagèrent. C’est de la folie. Et moi qui me croyais tranquille pour un bout de temps avec mon chat brun. Bien sûr, s’ils cherchent avant, ils n’ont pas fini d’en arrêter des proprios de chats et de chiens. Je n’ai pas dormi de la nuit. J’aurais dû me méfier des Bruns dès qu’ils nous ont imposé leur première loi sur les animaux. Après tout, il était à moi mon chat, comme son chien pour Charlie, on aurait dû dire non. Résister davantage, mais comment? Ça va si vite, il y a le boulot, les soucis de tous les jours. Les autres aussi baissent les bras pour être un peu tranquilles, non? On frappe à la porte. Si tôt le matin, ça n’arrive jamais. J’ai peur. Le jour n’est pas levé, il fait encore brun dehors. Mais arrêtez de taper si fort, j’arrive.
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