Un Chant D’Amour, 1950


“There were random walks through the town, along dark streets on sleepless nights. He would stop to look through windows at gilded interiors, through lacework illustrated with elaborate designs: flowers, acanthus leaves, cupids with bows and arrows, lace deer; and the interiors, hollowed out in massive and shadowy altars, seemed to him veiled tabernacles.”  Jean Genet, Our Lady Of The Flowers – he also likes to write about cock.  And it’s more hardcore than William Burroughs shooting his own wife.

The narrative in this film is clearer than the book.

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