Charlotte. David Foenkinos
girl grows wild.
Her father hires nannies and she does all she can to drive them to despair.
She hates anyone who tries to take care of her.
Worst of the bunch: Miss Stagard.
A stupid, vulgar woman.
Charlotte is the most badly brought-up girl she has ever known, she says.
Thankfully, on an outing one day, she falls into a crevasse.
She screams with pain, her leg broken.
Charlotte is in seventh heaven, finally rid of her.
But with Hase, everything is different.
Charlotte loves her instantly.
As Albert is never home, Hase practically lives there.
When she washes, Charlotte gets up to spy on her.
She is fascinated by the size of her breasts.
It is the first time she has seen such big ones.
Her mother’s were small.
What about hers: what will they be like?
She would like to know what is preferable.
On the apartment landing she sees a neighbor boy her own age, and asks him.
He seems very surprised.
Then finally answers: large breasts.
So Hase is lucky, but she isn’t very pretty.
Her face is a little puffy.
And she has hairs on her upper lip.
In fact, you could probably call it a moustache.
So Charlotte goes back to see her neighbor.
Is it better to have large breasts and a moustache . . .
Or small breasts with the face of an angel?
The boy hesitates again.
In a serious voice, he replies that the second solution seems better to him.
Then he walks away without another word.
After that, he will always be embarrassed when he sees the strange girl next door.
As for Charlotte, she feels relieved by this response.
Deep down, she is pleased that men do not like Hase.
She loves her too much to risk losing her.
She doesn’t want anyone to love her.
Nobody but her.
4
It is the first Christmas without her mother.
Her grandparents are there, colder than ever.
The Christmas tree is immense, too big for the living room.
Albert bought the biggest and most beautiful one he could find.
For his daughter, naturally, but also in memory of his wife.
Franziska adored Christmas.
She would spend hours decorating the tree.
It was the highlight of her year.
The tree is dark now.
As if it, too, were in mourning.
Charlotte opens her presents.
They are watching her, so she plays the role of the happy girl.
A little theater to lighten the moment.
To dispel her father’s sadness.
Silence is what hurts most of all.
At Christmas, her mother used to sit at the piano for hours.
She loved Christian hymns.
Now the evening passes without a single melody.
Charlotte often looks at the piano.
She is incapable of touching it.
She can still see her mother’s fingers on the keyboard.
On this instrument, the past is alive.
Charlotte has the feeling that the piano can understand her.
And share her wound.
The piano is like her: an orphan.
Every day, she stares at the open sheet music.
The last piece her mother ever played.
A Bach concerto.
Several Christmases will pass this way, in silence.
5
It is now 1930.
Charlotte is a teenager.
People like to say that she is in her own world.
Being in one’s own world, where does that lead?
To daydreams and poetry, undoubtedly.
But also to a strange mix of disgust and bliss.
Charlotte can smile and suffer at the same time.
Only Hase understands her, and it happens without words.
In silence, Charlotte rests her head on the nanny’s chest.
Like that, she feels listened to.
Some bodies are consolations.
But Hase no longer spends so much time looking after Charlotte.
Albert says a thirteen-year-old girl has no need for a nanny.
Does he have any idea what his daughter wants?
If that’s how it is, she refuses to grow up.
Charlotte feels ever more alone.
Her best friend is now spending more time with Kathrin.
A new pupil in the school, and already so popular.
How does she do it?
Some girls have the gift of making others love them.
Charlotte is afraid of being abandoned.
The best solution is to avoid becoming attached.
Because nothing lasts.
She must protect herself from potential disappointments.
But no, that’s ridiculous.
She can see what’s happening to her father.
By separating himself from other people, he has become a gray man.
So she encourages him to go out.
During one dinner party, he finds himself talking to a famous opera singer.
She has just made a record, and it’s wonderful.
All over Europe, people are praising it.
She also sings in churches: sacred music.
Albert is tongue-tied, intimidated.
The conversation is full of silences.
If only she was ill, the doctor would know what to say.
Alas, this woman is in sickeningly good health.
After a while, he stammers that he has a daughter.
Paula (that’s her name) is charmed by this.
Chased constantly by admirers, she dreams of a man who is not an artist.
Kurt Singer, the dashing Opera House director, idolizes her.
He wants to give up everything for her (his wife, in other words).
His