Marcel PAGNOL (1895-1974) Autograph letter signed "Your old Marcel", (Paris) Today 1920. 4 p. in-4 in black ink. Creases. "Joe, are you only up right now? (10:1/2 a.m.). Are you up, for God's sake! Yes? I'm surprised, but well...How is Germaine? Not well? Ah? A little fever? Of course. Give her some lemonade, and give her the electric thing again. But not right now, because it's better to let her sleep [...] It's upsetting that I'm writing to you while you're sleeping, but that's right. However, not quite; I don't write to you while sleeping, I sleep while writing to you: a very sensitive nuance (Ah! so sensitive!) and one that has its value. My eyes are closed. Between my reddened eyelids filters my atonic glance, which follows the soup of fishes! O bouillabaisse! Fries, mussels, arapeds, sea urchins, mackerels! O Chickens bought in the farms! O viandaille, tripaille, mangeaille, crevaille! It would be superb. By returning to Marseille, we would each have a pair of cheeks that would spread over the collar of the jacket and so many folds of fat that one would not see the navel anymore! [....] Why am I here, under this ceiling, white that two lead pipes cross? Mystery of the destiny. I have been dreaming since I got up of a villa by the sea, between Sausset and Carro, where the four of us would live (with a room to give, of course). What fishing for crabs, shellfish, octopus! What boat trips! What romantic moonlight on the waves... (shut up, Muse, you're making me nervous...) [...] As for me, I still haven't found my voice, in spite of incessant research. My students are very impressed by my silence and my gestures. I see very clearly that they judge me as a hammer. Fuck them. [...]". Beautiful letter to his friend Julien Coutelen in which he tells him of his dream to share with his friends a villa by the sea between Sausset and Carro for the next summer vacations.