Le Petit Pâté Illustré
Vous avez entre les
le premier numéro du
en ligne Le Petit Pâté Illustré, qui
vise à unir les talents de
pour votre plus grand
( Et on a du
Participez au projet en nous
S o m m a i re - LA QUÊTE DU PÂTÉ
Chronique d'OLIVIER PIVOT Illustrée par PAULINE SOURIS
- STRAWBERRY JAM
Nouvelle de LUCIE RONFAUT Illustrée par ALICE DES - MERCI BISOUS Chronique de CLÉMENCE MICHALLON Illustrée par JOANNA CELSE, ALICE DES et JUSTINE LOISON - WEIRDO! Nouvelle d'HUGO D'ARBOIS Illustrée par EMMANUELLE LY FRUIT DÉFENDU Poème d'OLIVIER PIVOT Illustré par CLEM DE NESLE - LA PROCRASTINATION Illustrée par ALEXANDRE CLARET
- PRÉSENTATION DES ARTISTES
OLIVIER PIVOT - PAULINE SOURIS
l était é une fois, dans un lointain lo pays, un jeune pâté du nom de Rillettes. Jeune encor, celui-ci se rendait rendai à la cour du duc de Terrine don dont il était l’homme lige. La veille de la Pâque de l’an de grâce 1163 après le premier pâté il arriva au château de son suzerain, auquel il devait rendre hommage pour être armé chevalier le jour même. Rillettes d’Oie était un vaillant pâté, toujours prêt à chevaucher pour défendre la veuve et l’orphelin. Assez grand pour son âge, sa texture était riche et épaisse, et un fin liserai de gras le bordait entièrement. Rillettes était courageux, avait le teint noble mais n’était pas issu des plus grandes familles qui peuplaient les Terres de la Volaille. Vêtu d’une simple baguette de pain noir à la croûte assez frustre, il se sentit immédiatement misérable à la vue des riches canapés napés et toasters qui habillaient les membres influents luents de la cour du duc.
Il se rendit néanmoins dans la salle d’honneur où étaient armés chevaliers les jeunes pâtés vassaux du duc de Terrine. Lorsque vint son tour, alors que le duc lui tendait son épée, une grande clameur retentit dans la salle et interrompit la cérémonie. Un héraut fourbu arriva dans la salle, accompagné d’une nombreuse suite. Sur un palanquin porté par quatre esclaves au pâté de sanglier, on apporta une jeune pâtée qui restait allongée et qui semblait souffrir. C’était la demoiselle Mousse de Canard, la nièce du duc de Terrine qui, sans enfants, avait reporté toute son affectation sur elle, bien qu’elle fût très malade depuis déjà de longues années. Celle-ci était de toute beauté : loin des charmes sauvages des pâtés de campagne aux multiples couleurs, elle était d’une texture riche et unie, bordée d’un liserai d’or. Devant la beauté de cette demoiselle, amour prit Rillettes et il se jura qu’il en ferait sa dame dusse-t-il errer de longues années pour gagner son cœur. Le héraut parla alors :
« O noble duc ! Une réponse est enfin arrivée. Le nom de celui qui pourra sauver votre nièce a été révélé par le Grand prêtre des Gésiers. Loin d’ici, près du pays qui borde la mer, réside le seul qui puisse rendre la santé à votre nièce, le Pâté de Poulpe, sujet et conseiller du Grand Sushi. Mais il faudra faire un long et périlleux voyage pour l’amener à votre cour et seul un courageux chevalier pourra accepter cette quête, car il lui faudra franchir les montagnes du Terroir et chevaucher dans des terres sauvages et fromagères. » Il était alors de coutume que le suzerain accordât une faveur à ses chevaliers lors de leur adoubement. Rillettes se leva alors et dit : « Seigneur ! Accordez moi, en gage de ma loyauté, la ffaveur fa aveur d’entreprendre cette quête et d’amener à votre vo cour le Pâté de Poulpe. »
Et une grande clameur retentit dans l’assistance car ca il n’était pas coutume de confier des missions si périlleuses à de tout jeunes chevaliers. Mais le duc était plein de désarroi et il croyait voir en cette annonce de la découverte d’un remède la veille de la Pâque un
signe de la Providence, et comme un nouveau signe lui apparut cette demande téméraire de Rillettes. Et il lui dit alors : « Va ! Je t’accorde cette faveur. Arme toi et retrouve ce sage, qui habite dans ces lointaines contrées et ramène le à ma cour, et si tu réussis dans ta quête et permets de guérir ma nièce, alors je te récompenserai comme nul pâté ne fut récompensé jusqu’alors.
Diana was about to pull the trigger when Death came in. At first she only saw him out of the corner of her eye: his shaven head and big glasses glowing under the lazy moonlight. Diana didn't mind it that much. It wasn't exactly the kind of thing she cared about while she was about to shoot herself in the head. “Who are you?” Diana asked The young man shrugged his shoulders. Diana looked away. “What are you doing here?” she asked again. She heard him come closer but only by one or two steps. She was still holding the gun against her temple, ready for anything. “I’m your neighbor,” he said.
“I never saw you around here.” “I guess you didn’t look hard enough then.” This time Diana turned her head to get a good look at the young man in her apartment. He looked suspicious enough for her to step back. “I swear to God if you’re trying to stop me – “ “I’m not getting any closer,” the neighbor said, and his voice suddenly went so deep that Diana stopped moving. Everything went silent for a moment. Diana faced the young man, gun up in the air and her arm shaking. Outside she could hear the faint noise of the other residents of the apartment complex: laughing, talking, or maybe cooking? Living. Diana bit her lip. “I thought about this you know.” “Obviously.” “I’m going to do it,” she added “That’s fine,” he said – but then Diana shook her head. “Why are you here anyway?” The neighbor did not answer. He sat down at the kitchen table and stared at some jam jars that Diana had left there earlier in the afternoon. She blinked, her head suddenly feeling heavy and hot. Her finger was trembling against the trigger, just a tiny bit.
“Whatever,” Once again, Diana prepared to pull the trigger. “I'll do it anyway.” But just then, she realized she wouldn't. “I mean...” Diana didn’t finish her sentence. She could feel the cool air surrounding her bare legs and the cold sweat dripping over her neck. She realized she was still alive and she felt like dying because of it. “Did you change your mind?” The neighbor looked at Diana and this time Diana looked back at him. The weapon was very heavy and cold in her hand. “I’ll take care of this,” he said. He got closer to Diana, though only to pick up the weapon from her hand. “I don't want you in my apartment,” she said. “I know.” “Go away.” “I will.” He put the gun in his backpack and zipped it. After her neighbor left Diana felt like crying, but did not.
Diana didn't think that the young man would ever come back and he didn't for days, until she tried to kill herself again. This time she decided to hang herself. She made up her mind after reading in a magazine that according to statistics women usually killed themselves by overdosing on pills or by gassing themselves. It was neater, less scary too. Diana didnâ€™t want to be part of a statistic. People forgot about numbers very quickly. She was tired of being forgotten. In order to prepare for the night Diana left her apartment for the first time in weeks. In Wal-Mart everything was shiny and new. Diana spent five dollars on a long rope, and then bought several cartons of strawberries and some lemons too.
But when she was finally ready to jump from the chair, her neighbor came once again. The rope was tight against Diana's neck but she still managed to swear quite loudly. “What the hell are you doing here?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m just passing by.” Diana tried to raise her shoulders but was scared of falling of the chair. Small lights danced in front of her eyes. “I mean, how did you get there just before …” The small lights evolved into long snakes that crawled in front of Diana's eyes. She closed them for a bit; it was somewhat pretty. Her feet were heavy against the small chair, but only one step, one little step could solve it all. The rope was too tight around her neck. “I could explain if you came down, you know,” her neighbor said. Diana couldn't see anymore. “Tell me what?” “Why I’m here.” Diana looked down and blinked several times. Her neighbor was so tall that he didn’t need to raise his head that much to meet her gaze. He smiled at her.
It was over. For today, at least. Diana’s stomach tightened and a she felt a strong wave of nausea coming from the bottom of her throat. She put her fingers under the rope. After she freed her neck she sat on the chair. The rope was still hanging from the ceiling, just above her head. The neighbor sat on the floor next to Diana. She felt annoyed that he could see her eyes while his thick glasses were hiding his. “Okay. Tell me now.” “You don't have any guesses?” “Tell me or I go back on this freaking chair.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said, “I’m Death.” Diana frowned and briefly wondered if she was still brave enough to get up on the chair again. Her neighbor didn't seem to notice her irritation. “Is that all you had to say?” “I’m telling the truth.” “Come one, I’m not that dumb.” “I know.” Diana and the neighbor stared at one another. She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, but then said nothing. There was a long silence. “How do you do it?” the neighbor finally said. Diana lifted her head. He was pointing at the jam jars on the kitchen table. She frowned, “What do you mean?” “The jam. How do you do it?” “Why would you care?” “There’s jam everywhere in your apartment. I just
thought it was weird.” Diana thought about Christmas. She remembered the last time she went over the old house – the one they had lived in before daddy died – over winter break. Her mother had decided to teach her daughter to cook and the only thing Diana had managed to learn was strawberry jam. Every woman in Diana's family knew how to make amazing jam. Hers wasn't as good as her mother's or her grandmother's, but it wasn't so bad either. It tasted like strawberries and good old times. Definitely bittersweet. Diana wasn't really sure what her mother was doing with her life nowadays. From time to time she would receive an email from her with some pictures of her new husband and their newborn baby attached. “My mom taught me,” Diana said and then paused for a moment, “When I feel sad, I make jam. That's all.” Her neighbor nodded, “I see.” Diana took a deep breath, “But really, do you expect me to believe you’re Death?” “Maybe.” Diana shrugged her shoulders. “Are you going to come back next time I try to kill myself then?” she said. “Is there going to be a next time?” She did not answer.
The third time Death walked in Diana's apartment, she was early and he was late. He found her half asleep in her bathtub, where she greeted him a lazy smile. The water was pink but the knife on the floor was definitely red. Diana tried to wave at her neighbor but she couldn’t. “Hey” she said “How long have you been here?” “Dunno.” The neighbor gave Diana an annoyed gaze. She moved her head to her right, put her chin against the white surface and took a deep breath. He bent down. Diana realized he could see her naked and that she didn't really mind. She smiled again. “You do care about me, don't you?” “It's my job. “ “Are you going to let me die then?” Diana lost her smile immediately when she saw her neighbor’s serious expression. “It depends,” he said, “Do you really want to die, Diana?” It was the first time he used her name and it made her feel even worse than ever. Diana tried to rise from her bath. She only managed to groan weakly. “O-of course I want to,” she said, “It tried several times already.” “And yet you never actually succeeded.” “Only because you show up every time to creep me out!”
Diana realized she was crying. “I wasn’t here to stop you today,” her neighbor said. “But you’re here now.” He let out a sigh. “I can leave the room until you die if you want me to.” “Don’t!” Diana’s neighbor stood up. “I’ll call 911 then.” “Wait!” It was getting hard for Diana to talk, but she made an effort anyway. He looked at her and she tried to smile at him again. “Will you be here next time too?” He walked out of the bathroom without answering. Diana held her breath and slipped into the water. The neighbor didn't come to visit Diana at the hospital. She waited two days and then decided to find his number through the University directory, because she wanted to see him. The next day Diana woke to find Death standing next to her bed. Diana looked up at him. For once he wasn't wearing his glasses. His eyes were brown and tired and she liked them a lot. “I guess I should thank you,” Diana said, “For last time.”
“Don't worry about it.” “Well, I mean, you did a pretty good job at saving my life,” she paused and then smiled, “Especially for someone who pretends to be Death in person.” He looked away for a moment, then bent over Diana's bed. She didn't expect her neighbor to hug her but he did it anyway. She let him put his arm on her back and pull her against his chest. The grip was strong enough to take Diana's breath away for a moment. She was surprised to be able to hear his heart beating so loudly. Very fast. The shiver that went through Diana's entire body was very different from the ones she would have before or after trying to kill herself. She didn't want this one to stop. Ever. Diana closed her eyes. “I didn’t think I would be your type of girl.” He laughed. “I'm not doing this to seduce you.” “You're very tall.” Diana added “I know.” “You smell good.” “I know that too.” “You're annoying.” “Most definitely.” When he stepped back he didn't look at her. Diana was blushing. “I don’t want to kill myself anymore.” “I assumed so.”
“So you can drop the act now.” He blinked. “I mean, I’m not sure how you always show up every time I try to kill myself,” Diana said again, “But I guess that means you somewhat like me, right?” “I wasn’t lying.” “Sure, whatever,” Diana laughed, “I don’t care if you don’t want to tell me your name. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing.” She took a deep breath. “I like it when you come see me. You’re the only one who does that.” Diana’s neighbor stood up. She lifted her head and looked at him. “I guess I should go now,” he said, “Try to rest a bit.” Diana nodded. “You’ll visit me again when I’m out of the hospital, right?” She smiled. His eyes finally met hers. “I hope not.” Death left the room.
WEIRDO! HUGO D'ARBOIS - EMMANUELLE LY
Le Fruit Défendu OLIVIER PIVOT - CLEM DE NESLE
Un soir, t’en souvient-il ? Nous marchions côte à côte Tous deux courbés Sous le chagrin des solitudes. Et de notre havre rouge Du hameau famélique Il ne restait Qu’un jardin d’Eden sombre et gris. Un jardin d’Eden sombre et gris Où poussaient le serpent, le vin, La lie et le fruit défendu.
Lilith, Tu buvais les larmes d’Eve Et nos soupirs languissants Lilith, Catin de Babylone Tu ondulais dans le soir Et tes grands yeux noirs.
Lilith, Fruit défendu Dans une alcôve ve d’Eden Lilith, Sorcière de Babylone bylone y Au ventre fécond nd Tu dansais.
Lilith, Reine brûlante Tu tournais autour de moii Lilith, Prostituée de Babylone Courtisane brûlante J’ai bu à ta coupe.
’Eve aabandonnée bandonnée Et loin du corps d’ d’Eve es De ses lèvres fades un songe Dans le délire d’un p Dans mon Eden prison des délices Dans mon jardin des Devenu jardin dess chimères
JJ’ai craché ma bilee J craché mon sil J’ai lence silence M venin adulté Mon érin adultérin
Su ur l’autel dde marbre vert Sur Dan ns le purgatoire purrgatoire ggr ris Dans gris Sur le confe fessionnal muet confessionnal De errière des des fenêtres f nêtres closes fe Derrière
Et lles chiens hurlant de la Baltique Ô ffi lllle de d Lili fille Lilithh Por rten en eux moins de désir et de haine Portent
Ô fille de Lilith Tu es le serpent et le fruit.
Procrastination, n.f. : Hm... J'ĂŠcrirai la dĂŠfinition plus tard.
PrĂŠsentation des artistes
Prochain numĂŠro le 1er dĂŠcembre