...of holy orders

Rue de l'Universite. An old woman with gnarled shaking hands is talking to herself, then addresses her as she walks by. The woman in the blue cape! The poor thing isn't all there, she's lost her marbles, and continues to repeat, the woman in the blue cape, her liquid gaze directed at the end of the street. So as to not hurt the old lady's feelings, she turns round: there really is a woman in a blue cape making her way quickly across the street. The mocking tone comes through the yellowed teeth: that one there was a nun and went to bed with a man; now she's got nothing. The old woman shakes her head, all but adding, serves her right. At the age of twelve, after a guided tour of a convent somewhere in the middle of the countryside, she considered taking holy orders. No one said a word about the vow of chastity, not even the guide. What appealed to her was the silence of the stonework, the calm of the inner courtyards. Shutting yourself away for ever was like hurling yourself into space. She longed for the challenge of absolute silence. She wanted to know what thoughts she would have after a few months, after a few years without uttering a single word.

[Voice Over, Curiol, C.]