“My grandmother lived at the end of the runway at Orly Airport. She was a restroom attendant there, where I spent my holidays as a kid. In the Orly toilets—I loved it: ‘Departure for Rio de Janeiro…’ Holy shit, they’re going to Rio! And I’d run to see. I’d see all the cities of the world go by: Saigon, Addis Ababa, Buenos Aires… I was in the toilet. She cleaned the toilets; she worked for a company called L’Alsacienne. My grandmother shaved, and I was always fascinated.”
“My grandmother lived at the end of the runway at Orly Airport. She was a restroom attendant there, where I spent my holidays as a kid. In the Orly toilets—I loved it: ‘Departure for Rio de Janeiro…’ Holy shit, they’re going to Rio! And I’d run to see. I’d see all the cities of the world go by: Saigon, Addis Ababa, Buenos Aires… I was in the toilet. She cleaned the toilets; she worked for a company called L’Alsacienne. My grandmother shaved, and I was always fascinated. She had a double-bladed Gillette razor and she shaved. When I kissed her, I’d say, ‘You’re still prickly, Grandma!’ ‘I’ll shave tomorrow, don’t worry…’”
A life of tightrope walking, running above his personal precipices. The portrait of a player who doesn't cheat. Christophe Ono-Dit-Biot, The Point.
A book of memories so raw that it is devastating. Catherine Schwaab, Paris Match.
