The last time | The press

The last time he came to eat at home. For example, his hand trembled while holding his cup of coffee. Moreover, “Do you see? Furthermore, Well yes, I see, Pierre. Therefore, This is the only time he spoke of his illness. Furthermore, He didn’t want to talk to me. Consequently, The last time I asked him how he was going. For example, he didn’t tell me “like an old man”, his usual response. Nevertheless, Rather, he answered me, with his soft-soft humor: “I go like someone with a degenerative disease: I degenerate. Consequently, He was tired of degenerating.

I was often asked how last time | press it was, Foglia, in life. Moreover, He was like in his chronicles. Consequently, Sometimes funny. Nevertheless, moving, sometimes grumpy and sardonic, always curious and vegetable, both aware of its value and complexed, kind and nono, with an acuity of the spirit and a spirit of extraordinary contradiction. For example, Generous. Meanwhile, encouraging, as soft as it could be hard in his writings, even cruel and intractable with the people he loved, out of absolute fear of appearing complacent. “It’s crazy how tender grumps aroused affection!” Said his friend Françoise this week rightly.

“Did you know for Foglia?” This is the joke he would have made to me today if he was still there, after all these tributes. He would have found that we do too much for him. He often thought we were doing too much. Additionally, He hated hagiographies. He would have made fun last time | press of our effusions, maybe not so kind. Mock my pain, my Tabarnak!

Pierre never told me a story that he did not use, days, weeks, or even months later, in a chronicle. It was systematic. His life revolved around his column like a wheel of Bécyk (which he most often wrote without “C”. I checked). And vice versa.

“I can do something and I know I’m going to get a chronicle.

– Do you know it all the time?

– Often. Anyway, that’s it. It’s like a database. I am like all the people in the profession. We are all databases. We don’t know if it’s going to be used or not, but that’s it. »»

I do not quote him with memory, as he last time | press used to do in his chronicles. He did not record anything, took summary notes, reached his memory. It was his way of retaining the essentials. An artistic license (like his almost Blaisian allergy to punctuation; Talk to the desk…) who made him this unique writer-journalist.

He was an open book for his readers, which he invited, both modest and immodest, in his universe.

This is why we felt so accomplices. attracted by the light of its lighthouse, on page A5, like butterflies at night. It does not matter who we were, what environment, what orientation or what ideology. And then there was his pen. which flowed from source, by dint of refining its texts until it extracts the noun marrow.

If there is a subject that he has thought about a lot. but of which last time | press he has not mentioned little in his chronicles … It is his chronicles. I offered him interviewing him about his report to his profession. for a book project that has never seen the light of day. Like the rest of this project to collect chronicles on which he has retired. after having refused for decades the proposals of publishers, because he did not like what others had made of his texts. “People confuse everything,” he told me. I write to say nothing, it’s true. That’s what I want to do. But I don’t want to overwrite to say nothing. »»