Negative Hands

VERTAALD DOOR TRANSLATED BY TRADUIT PAR Elias Grootaers

Les mains négatives (Marguerite Duras, 1978)

We call ‘negative hands’, the hands found on the walls of the Magdalenian caves of sub-atlantic Europe. These hands were just pressed upon the rock, after having been covered with colour. Usually, they were black, or blue. No explanation has been found for this practice.

In front of the ocean
under the cliff
on the granite wall

these hands

wide open

Blue 
and black

Blue like the water
Black like the night

The man came alone into the cave
in front of the ocean
All the hands are the same size
he was alone

The man alone in the cave looked
into the noise
into the noise of the sea
the immensity of things

And he cried out

“You who have a name, who have been given an identity, I love you”

These hands
blue like the water
black like the sky

Flat

Pressed outspread on the grey granite

So that someone would see them

I am someone who calls
I am the one who called, who cried out, thirty thousand years ago

“I love you”

I cry out that I want to love you, I love you

I love whoever will hear my cry

On the empty earth, these hands will remain, on the granite wall, facing the ocean’s roar

Unbearable

No one will hear anymore

See anymore

Thirty thousand years
these hands there, black

The refraction of the light on the sea makes the stone wall tremble

I am someone, I am the one, who called, who cried out, in this white light

Desire

The word has not yet been invented

He looked at the immensity of things, within the roar of the waves, the immensity of its force

And then he cried out

Above him the forests of Europe
without end

He stands amidst the rock
corridors
paths of stone
everywhere

You, who have a name, who have been given an identity, I love you with an indefinite love

He had to climb down the cliff
conquer his fear
The wind blows from the continent, it drives back the ocean
The waves struggle against the wind
They advance
slowed down by its force
and patiently reach
the stone wall

Everything crashes

I love you more than you
I will love whoever will hear that I cry out that I love you

Thirty thousand years

I call

I call the one who will answer me

I want to love you, I love you

For thirty thousand years, I cry out, in front of the sea, the white ghost

I am the one who cried out that he loved you, you

Voice-over by Marguerite Duras from Les mains négatives (1978).

 

Image from Les mains négatives (Marguerite Duras, 1978)

ARTICLE
16.11.2016
FR EN
In Passage, Sabzian invites film critics, authors, filmmakers and spectators to send a text or fragment on cinema that left a lasting impression.
Pour Passage, Sabzian demande à des critiques de cinéma, auteurs, cinéastes et spectateurs un texte ou un fragment qui les a marqués.
In Passage vraagt Sabzian filmcritici, auteurs, filmmakers en toeschouwers naar een tekst of een fragment dat ooit een blijvende indruk op hen achterliet.
The Prisma section is a series of short reflections on cinema. A Prisma always has the same length – exactly 2000 characters – and is accompanied by one image. It is a short-distance exercise, a miniature text in which one detail or element is refracted into the spectrum of a larger idea or observation.
La rubrique Prisma est une série de courtes réflexions sur le cinéma. Tous les Prisma ont la même longueur – exactement 2000 caractères – et sont accompagnés d'une seule image. Exercices à courte distance, les Prisma consistent en un texte miniature dans lequel un détail ou élément se détache du spectre d'une penséée ou observation plus large.
De Prisma-rubriek is een reeks korte reflecties over cinema. Een Prisma heeft altijd dezelfde lengte – precies 2000 tekens – en wordt begeleid door één beeld. Een Prisma is een oefening op de korte afstand, een miniatuurtekst waarin één detail of element in het spectrum van een grotere gedachte of observatie breekt.
Jacques Tati once said, “I want the film to start the moment you leave the cinema.” A film fixes itself in your movements and your way of looking at things. After a Chaplin film, you catch yourself doing clumsy jumps, after a Rohmer it’s always summer, and the ghost of Akerman undeniably haunts the kitchen. In this feature, a Sabzian editor takes a film outside and discovers cross-connections between cinema and life.
Jacques Tati once said, “I want the film to start the moment you leave the cinema.” A film fixes itself in your movements and your way of looking at things. After a Chaplin film, you catch yourself doing clumsy jumps, after a Rohmer it’s always summer, and the ghost of Akerman undeniably haunts the kitchen. In this feature, a Sabzian editor takes a film outside and discovers cross-connections between cinema and life.
Jacques Tati zei ooit: “Ik wil dat de film begint op het moment dat je de cinemazaal verlaat.” Een film zet zich vast in je bewegingen en je manier van kijken. Na een film van Chaplin betrap je jezelf op klungelige sprongen, na een Rohmer is het altijd zomer en de geest van Chantal Akerman waart onomstotelijk rond in de keuken. In deze rubriek neemt een Sabzian-redactielid een film mee naar buiten en ontwaart kruisverbindingen tussen cinema en leven.