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Right from the opening credits we come into contact with logograms, starting with the place where this desire to write was fantastically formed, inspired by the love Dotremont has for Gloria, the woman of his life for whom he invented this new poetic form. Throughout the film the camera records the position of the body, the hands, the progress of the ink, the birth of his visual poems, right up to the burning that awaits those that are not perfect. With the fictional reconstruction of a morning’s work, ‘Pension pluie de roses, Tervueren, Belgique’, the film also gives an account of a morning like any other, one that summarises all of them: the confinement of an ill man, connected to the world by a huge amount of correspondence, infinite telephone calls, an accumulation of papers, books, souvenirs from travels, with Lapland, a mythical place, ever present. A Lapp song, Dotremont’s gravelly voice, that of a correspondent, Gloria maybe, emphasize what the image shows, the creative effort during ‘Proust-like’ declining years that are confined and feverish.
