Critique
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–Julien Delmaire rekindles a flame of hope in an America of the 1930s where racial segregation is the law.–
Mississippi, 1932. “Admire the painting: these superb loosers agglutinated like flageolets in sauce, these counterfeit trognes which no longer even dare to be reflected in a mirror. Take a look at those hands, black and worn out – hands of cotton pickers, peons, lumberjacks, high rollers. Nowhere will you find such a concentration of the damned per hectare. […] Blues singer in this kind of harbor, it’s a sacred responsibility. You watch over dozens of souls, you help them cross reefs of emotion and you have to beautify them, scrub them from the inside. You are the guarantor of the beauty of the breed, old man! ”
Because life outside these walls, once the heat of the dancefloor tired and dizzy from contraband alcohol, laughed at the beauty. “Kids grow up too fast, little girls see their bellies get bigger before they have solved the puzzles of tender age. Hunger obliges and misery drives back. The blood cuts to the point of blood. “ All are victims of “The ancient curse”, they have “Committed the crime of being born naked, of being born black and of believing in the infallible clock of the seasons”. So many noble or lost souls, but all of blood blues.
Weave talismans and summon spirits
There are Steve and Betty who love each other in the fringes of purity, that is, as much as we can get close to. When Steve comes home from the bakery where he has worked since he was about ten years old, he knows that “With a simple word, she [vengera] to…
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