When the demonstrators first attacked the stage of the Odeon, there was a slight panic among the actors. Maria Casares did not move. This Spaniard, daughter of a minister of the Republic who, from the first days of the war, enlisted as a simple soldier, had seen others. Exiled from an early age, she became a French actress without denying anything, in her acting or in life, of her country of origin. Long acclaimed every evening by the public of the “Paravents”, Maria Casarès is not an ordinary star. She never confided in journalists. His theater comrade, Antoine Bourseiller, is not one.
Go away ! She laughs. It splashes against the walls, it clings to the chandeliers, it hurtles down the stairs. Get out, sensitive people! Get out, music lovers! She is screaming with laughter now. She leans back, like a weeping willow, she laughs, and a whole antechamber freezes in anguish, and the spectators shake their buttocks, some swooning (footballers, lame, Japanese, psychiatrists), others creaking teeth (rugbymen, polytechnicians, bishops). Get out the technocrats, the Casares groaned with laughter. Something rises in her, develops; she gives birth to an archangel or a monster, and it is perhaps this presence that seduced Jean Genet. She laughs, ladies and gentlemen, she devours, and when you pay for your orchestra seat, you pay to be devoured, or to see how people eat food.
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