The Elegance of the Hedgehog
“The Great Work of Making Meaning I open the door.
Monsieur Ozu is standing there.
“Dear lady,” he says, “I am glad that you were not displeased with my little gift.”
In shock, I cannot understand a word.
“Yes, I was,” I reply, aware that I am sweating like an ox. “Uh, uh, no.” I am pathetically slow to correct my stumbling reply. “Well, thank you, thank you very much indeed.”
He gives me a kindly smile.
“Madame Michel, I haven’t come here so that you can thank me.”
“No?” I say, adding my own brilliant rendition of “let your words die upon your lips,” the art of which I share with Phaedra, Bérénice, and poor Dido.
“I have come to ask you to have dinner with me tomorrow evening,” he says. “That way we shall have the opportunity to talk about our shared interests.”
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