from "art"

“Serge  He is getting on my nerves. It’s true.

He’s getting on my nerves.

It’s this ingratiating tone of voice. A little smile behind every word.

It’s as if he’s forcing himself to be pleasant.

Don’t be pleasant, whatever you do, don’t be pleasant!

Could it be buying the Antrios? . . . Could buying the Antrios have triggered off this feeling of constraint between us?

Buying something. . . without his backing? . . .

Well, bugger his backing! Bugger your backing, Marc!

Marc  Could it be the Antrios, buying the Antrios?

No --

It started some time ago. . .

To be precise, it started on the day we were discussing some work of art and you uttered, quite seriously, the word deconstruction.

It wasn’t so much the word deconstruction which upset me, it was the air of solemnity you imbued it with.

You said, humourlessly, unapologetically, without a trace of irony, the word deconstruction, you, my friend.

I wasn’t sure how best to deal with the situation, so I made this throwaway remark, I said I think I must be getting intolerant in my old age, and you answered, who do you think you are? What makes you so high and mighty? . . .

What gives you the right to set yourself apart, Serge answered in the bloodiest possible way. And quite unexpectedly.

You’re just Marc, what makes you think you’re so special?

That day, I should have punched him in the mouth.

And when he was lying there on the ground, half-dead, I should have said to him, you’re supposed to be my friend, what sort of a friend are you, Serge, if you don’t think your friends are special?”

-Yasmina Reza, “Art”