And if something happens

Sujet du devoir

Bonjour,
Voilà mon texte, et plus bas je vais mettre mon travail.

And if something happens

"But what's the matter, Ben?"
"No use burdening you with it. All I want to know is whether I may and you some stuff to kep for me."
"Stolen goods?" I said playfully.
"Don't be ridiculous ! There's nothing illegal about it, you needn't be scared. It's juste that I -"He hurried on in silence for a short distance, then glancd round again. "I don't want them to find the stuff on me."
"Who are "they"?"
He stopped, as agitated as before. "Look, I'd like to tell you everything that's happened these last months. But I really have no time. Will you help me ?
"What is it you want me to store for you?"
"Papers and stuff. I've written it all down. Some bits rather hurriedly and I supposed confused. But it's all there. You may read it of course. If you promise you'll keep it to yourself."
"But."
"Come on." With another anxious glance over his shoulder he set off again. "I've got to be sure that someone will look after it. That someone knows about it. It's possible nothing will happen. Then I'll come round one day to collect it again. But if something does happen to me." He jerked his shoulders as if to prevent his coat from slipping off. "I'll leave it to your discretion." For the first time he laughed, if one could call that harsh brief sound a laugh. "Remember, when we were at varsity, I alwals brought plots for your stories. And you always spoke about the great novel you were going to write one day, right ? Now I want to dump all my stuff on you. You may even turn it into a bloody novel if you choose. As long as it doesn't end here. You understand?
"No, I'm afraid I don't understand you at all. You want me to write your biography?"
"I want you to keep my notes and journals. And to use them if necessary."
"How will I know if it's necessary or not?"
"You'll know, don't worry." A pale smile twitched his tense mouth. He stopped once more, an unnatural glance in his grey eyes. "They have taken everything from me. Nearly everything. Not much left. But they won't get that. You hear me? If they get that there would have been no sense in it at all."
We drifted along with the crowd.
"That's what they are aiming for," he proceeded after a while. "They want to wipe out every sign of me, as if I'd never been there. And I won't let them."
"What have you done, Ben?"
"Nothing, I assure you. Nothing at all. But I can't go on for very much longer, and I think they know it too. All I'm asking of you is to keep my papers."
"But if the whole thing is really all that innoncent."
"Are you also turning against me now."
There was something paranoic in his attitude as if he'd lost his grasp on the world, as if he weren't really in that city at that moment, as if he weren't aware of my presence at all. As if, in fact, he himseld were a stranger whose slight and superficial resemblance to the Ben du Toit I'd once known was pure coincidence.
"Of course I'll keep your stuff for you," I said, the way one would comfort of humour a child. "Why don't you bring it to my house tonight, then we can have a quiet chat over a glass of wine?"
He looked even more perturbed than before. "No, no, I can't do that. I'll make sure it gets to you. I don't want to cause you any problems."
"All right then." I sighed with resignation. All the sob stories I'd seen in my time. "I'll look throught it and let you know."
"I don't want you to let me know. Just kep the stuff like I told you. And if something happens."
"Nothing will happen, Ben," I insisted, not without some irritation. "It's juste hypertension. All you need is a good holiday."
Two weeks later he was dead.
André Brink, A dry white season.

Alors je ne comprends pas vraiment le texte, surtout le début avec le reste du texte je trouve que ça correspond pas.
C'est quelqu'un qui a fait quelque chose de mal, il arrive pas à en parler, il l'écrit sur un bout de papier à quelqu'un mais il ne veut pas que ça sorte d'ici. Je pense que c'est de la marchandise (illégal?) car il veut reprendre la route et il veut être sur que ça ira à destination. Il veut repasser le lendemain pour verifier.
L'ambiance est tendu car il ne sourit qu'une fois.
A partir de là, je comprends plus, car ça n'a rien avoir avec le début.
Ils étaient amis à la fac. L'un des hommes veut écrire un livre sur l'autre, mais ce dernier veut plutôt une biographie avec ce qu'il a déjà de lui en information. Il s'énerve parce qu'ils ont tout pris de lui, il est paranoïaque, mais on ne sait toujours pas ce qu'il a fait.
Il dit qu'il est innoncent, mais les gens croient le contraire, c'est pour ça qu'il veut pas que son papier soit connus par quelqu'un d'autre. L'homme ne le dénoncera pas, "l'innoncent" veut l'inviter chez lui mais l'autre renonce pour pas lui poser de problème. Et on apprend qu'il est mort 02 semaines après.
Donc voilà, je vois pas le rapport, mais c'est tous les élèments que j'ai compris dans ce texte en tout cas.
Je verrais pour le plan plus tard. Merci d'avance.

Où j'en suis dans mon devoir

Bonjour,
Voilà mon texte, et plus bas je vais mettre mon travail.

And if something happens

"But what's the matter, Ben?"
"No use burdening you with it. All I want to know is whether I may and you some stuff to kep for me."
"Stolen goods?" I said playfully.
"Don't be ridiculous ! There's nothing illegal about it, you needn't be scared. It's juste that I -"He hurried on in silence for a short distance, then glancd round again. "I don't want them to find the stuff on me."
"Who are "they"?"
He stopped, as agitated as before. "Look, I'd like to tell you everything that's happened these last months. But I really have no time. Will you help me ?
"What is it you want me to store for you?"
"Papers and stuff. I've written it all down. Some bits rather hurriedly and I supposed confused. But it's all there. You may read it of course. If you promise you'll keep it to yourself."
"But."
"Come on." With another anxious glance over his shoulder he set off again. "I've got to be sure that someone will look after it. That someone knows about it. It's possible nothing will happen. Then I'll come round one day to collect it again. But if something does happen to me." He jerked his shoulders as if to prevent his coat from slipping off. "I'll leave it to your discretion." For the first time he laughed, if one could call that harsh brief sound a laugh. "Remember, when we were at varsity, I alwals brought plots for your stories. And you always spoke about the great novel you were going to write one day, right ? Now I want to dump all my stuff on you. You may even turn it into a bloody novel if you choose. As long as it doesn't end here. You understand?
"No, I'm afraid I don't understand you at all. You want me to write your biography?"
"I want you to keep my notes and journals. And to use them if necessary."
"How will I know if it's necessary or not?"
"You'll know, don't worry." A pale smile twitched his tense mouth. He stopped once more, an unnatural glance in his grey eyes. "They have taken everything from me. Nearly everything. Not much left. But they won't get that. You hear me? If they get that there would have been no sense in it at all."
We drifted along with the crowd.
"That's what they are aiming for," he proceeded after a while. "They want to wipe out every sign of me, as if I'd never been there. And I won't let them."
"What have you done, Ben?"
"Nothing, I assure you. Nothing at all. But I can't go on for very much longer, and I think they know it too. All I'm asking of you is to keep my papers."
"But if the whole thing is really all that innoncent."
"Are you also turning against me now."
There was something paranoic in his attitude as if he'd lost his grasp on the world, as if he weren't really in that city at that moment, as if he weren't aware of my presence at all. As if, in fact, he himseld were a stranger whose slight and superficial resemblance to the Ben du Toit I'd once known was pure coincidence.
"Of course I'll keep your stuff for you," I said, the way one would comfort of humour a child. "Why don't you bring it to my house tonight, then we can have a quiet chat over a glass of wine?"
He looked even more perturbed than before. "No, no, I can't do that. I'll make sure it gets to you. I don't want to cause you any problems."
"All right then." I sighed with resignation. All the sob stories I'd seen in my time. "I'll look throught it and let you know."
"I don't want you to let me know. Just kep the stuff like I told you. And if something happens."
"Nothing will happen, Ben," I insisted, not without some irritation. "It's juste hypertension. All you need is a good holiday."
Two weeks later he was dead.
André Brink, A dry white season.

Alors je ne comprends pas vraiment le texte, surtout le début avec le reste du texte je trouve que ça correspond pas.
C'est quelqu'un qui a fait quelque chose de mal, il arrive pas à en parler, il l'écrit sur un bout de papier à quelqu'un mais il ne veut pas que ça sorte d'ici. Je pense que c'est de la marchandise (illégal?) car il veut reprendre la route et il veut être sur que ça ira à destination. Il veut repasser le lendemain pour verifier.
L'ambiance est tendu car il ne sourit qu'une fois.
A partir de là, je comprends plus, car ça n'a rien avoir avec le début.
Ils étaient amis à la fac. L'un des hommes veut écrire un livre sur l'autre, mais ce dernier veut plutôt une biographie avec ce qu'il a déjà de lui en information. Il s'énerve parce qu'ils ont tout pris de lui, il est paranoïaque, mais on ne sait toujours pas ce qu'il a fait.
Il dit qu'il est innoncent, mais les gens croient le contraire, c'est pour ça qu'il veut pas que son papier soit connus par quelqu'un d'autre. L'homme ne le dénoncera pas, "l'innoncent" veut l'inviter chez lui mais l'autre renonce pour pas lui poser de problème. Et on apprend qu'il est mort 02 semaines après.
Donc voilà, je vois pas le rapport, mais c'est tous les élèments que j'ai compris dans ce texte en tout cas.
Je verrais pour le plan plus tard. Merci d'avance.