The Final Letter
Hi All,
If anybody knows some way I can read the text of that final letter, i would be so grateful...feel free to send to
[email protected]
Dear Silly Lars,
You thought you could trip me up. I hope you nderstand better now after mrore than a couple of days. You say your obstructions had no underlying plan. But you had a theory. You thought, “this is Jorgen. Just what is Jorgen?”
“Jorgen is a wretch, just like me.” He’d made the fiom you felt more akin to than any other,-“So I must be from the same family as Jorgen.”
Just as you wanted to be chasitesed, you would now chastise Jorgen.
It was a personal assault. Don’t pretend it wasn’t.
You thought, “Jorgen is trying to hid his true self behind his provocative, perverse perfection. He wants to conceal his angst behind a personal fiction of rows of Armani suits suits on hangers, protecting him through his months of depression on Haiti. Jorgen gets the rush of Sartre and Hemmijngways historical wings to wave away the discomfort and that damned insecurity, because he hasn’t the guts to take wing for himself.! I see though him.:
It was arrogant, but I reaqlize that it was meant kindly. You wanted to get into where the scream was, and let it out.
“He is the most beautiful bird but just doesn’t believe it. I’ll chase him till he takes wing.”
You ordered me around and issued prohibitions to distract me, to penetrate my armor.
“We could distract Jorgen by getting him to make a film. This is how the Perfect Human makes a fiom, watch him now….Then he’d give himself away for sure…or what if I provoke him? Film him with his guard up and we’ll find all the gaps.”
But no matter now odd the clarinet sounded, you could not see behind my eyes. No matter how close you got, you couldn’t see beneath the skin of my hand to the nerves and most delicate blood vessels. Nothing was revealed and nothing helped.
I didn’t come staggering out of the ruins to thanks you, Lars. Or did I? You’ve got me now. You’re forcing me to read your words. So let’s get it over with.
Dear Lars, thank you for your obstructions. They’ve shown me what I really am, an abject, human human. I try to fool the world because I don’t want to be a part of it. My trick is cheap and I repeat it endlessly. If I go on telling the viewer what I see- like a prisoner of war repeating his name and number, without adding anything….emotions are far too dangerous- the world and I will fall for it. I call it art, but I am certain that I cannot do a thing. I only do this so I can put up with myself. My films are bluff, a hideaway, Lars. Thank you for chastising me so lovingly! Was that nice? Does it make any difference? (Maybe you put words into other people’s mouths to get out of saying them yourself.) No, it makes no difference, and you know it.
Your theory didn’t stgand up, Lars. Your pedagogical mission didn’t get to grips. My hand shook less, obstruction by obstruction. I grew more sure of myself as we receded from the person my first film was really about to anbody but you. You say you didn’t dare to find my way into what I so dishonestly and skillfully conceal, and you imagine to be so valuable. But it’s no good.
The dishonest person was you, Lars. You only saw what you wanted to see. The skepticism you felt about yourself must go for me, too. But you exposed yourself. You wanted to make me human, but that’s what I am! You got me to play along but yo ulet me get on the defensive. As we all know, it’s the attacker who really exposes himself. The truth is, you got it wrong! I obstructed you, no matter how much you wanted the opposite. And you fell flat on your face. how does the perfect human fall? This is how the perfect human falls (shot of Jorgen falling).